Chapter 95 The Shadow (18)


    I put Trishas group proposal on hold for a while. I understood the difort with the current group members, but from the perspective of Cecil and her friends, I was aplete outsider. It didnt seem like a good idea to rece someone already in sync with the group with myself. I might consider joining if a vacancy naturally urred, but it was out of the question to disce someone just to make room for me.


    Upon arrival at the mansion, Liria rushed out from the entrance hall to greet me.


    Master Damian!


    Urgencyced her voice, a small paper envelope fluttering in her hand.


    Her first shout, in ce of a greeting, sent my heart plummeting.


    A letter from Miss Silveryn has arrived!


    It seems the response to the letter I had sent before had finally arrived. It was time atst.


    I took the letter from her and paused for a moment to catch my breath.


    Liria, with eyes wide, watched me for my reaction before discreetly exiting.


    Ill go prepare your bath water!


    Trisha hesitantly moved towards the corridor leading to my room, then stopped and turned back to me, a puzzled look in her eyes.


    Why does the mere act of opening a letter make me so nervous? The gap sincest correspondence felt unnervingly unfamiliar. I broke the seal and read the first line of the letter.


    Fortunately, it contained Silveryns warm regards.


    [I was quite worried not having received your letters. Im relieved to hear youre well.]


    [How regrettable that Stitch was destroyed in an ident, and that you had no one to share your entrance ceremony. I share your sentiments.]


    [In the north, where warfare is frequent, many children grow up without their fathers. Thats why northern parents consider it a blessing to watch their children grow. I somewhat understand the sentiment of those from the north.]


    [Regrettably, its likely we wont be able to share the uing important events and celebrations together. There are still too many in this world in need of a teachers strength. But dont be too disappointed. Heres one promise I can make: no matter whateven if the world should endI will be there for youring-of-age ceremony. That much I can assure you.]


    Silveryns writing was calm, just as usual. I hadnt been able to keep my daily promise to write, so a part of me worried she might be upset. Of course, Silveryn wasnt the type to be angry over dyed letters.


    However for some reason, the wording-of-age ceremony and a few other sentences were written with such pressure that the ink was heavier. Perhaps she wrote them in a swaying carriage? Aside from that, the overall tone of the letter was serene.


    [Joining the art club was a good choice. Professor Georgia may be demanding, but she genuinely cares for her students. And for your first project, painting someone dear to you in secret? You say Id like it  I truly wonder who it could be. Regardless, I look forward to seeing it.]


    [If Stitch is beyond repair, seek out the magi-engineer Phyto in Rigveds central district; he should be able to fix it. And send your letters via E while Stitch is being repaired.]


    I wonder if repairing Stitch, whichys in fragments, is even possible I must visit him sooner rather thanter.


    And in thest line, where the signature should have been there was a red lip print stamped instead.


    Did she think that alone would suffice to confirm who sent it?


    Well, at least to me, its a definitive mark. I know which shades Silveryn uses.


    As carelessness loosens its hold, a certain past event bubbles up from the depths of memory, followed swiftly by turmoil.


    Trisha, arms crossed behind her back, crept up to me while I was still contemting the letter and asked,


    What are you looking at so intently all by yourself?


    A letter from my teacher.


    Can I see?


    No.


    As I abruptly folded the letter to keep it from her view, she pouted and gave me a hard stare.


    Do you exchange personal letters often? Just how close are you with your teacher?


    We only spent six months together, but aside from the entrance exams, we were virtually inseparable the rest of the time  sharing meals, training, rxation, pics, and more.


    Quite special. And exchanging letters? Thatsmon in a teacher-student rtionship.


    Must be nice. I had teachers back at home, too. But we never got along. I wouldnt want to call them mentor.''


    Teachers?


    How many teachers had she had?


    Yeah, I was taught by twenty-one people.


    For a moment, I doubted my hearing.


    Twenty-one different people?


    No. Twenty-one people at the same time.


    Why on earth would you need an entire battalion to teach you?


    One after another, their job was to constantly nag at what not to do. Miss Trisha, dont do this. Dont do that either. This isnt allowed, nor that. There must be over a thousand things on the not allowed list.


    Whats your identity that you require such oversight?


    Trisha bit her lip and looked into my eyes, then seemed toe to a decision and started to speak.


    Should I tell you? Its a secret, but I can tell you.


    ?


    But it seems unfair if Im the only one sharing. Lets exchange pasts. Ill tell you how I lived beforeing to Eternia, and then you tell me about your past. How about that?


    Her gaze was serious, the usual innocence gone.


    She wasnt just proposing an exchange of past histories. Trisha wanted a conversation about something deeper.


    I evaded that probing gaze. Im sorry, but I cant tell Trisha about my past. Even Silveryn knows nothing of it.


    My past is a burden I must carry alone. Sharing pain wont alleviate it. I dont believe sharing and dividing the past holds any special meaning.


    I am


    Before I could refuse, Trisha quickly covered my mouth with her hand.


    Wait, it doesnt have to be today. Just remember this, and when you feel like it, tell me your story then! I can wait.


    Ill go wash up first!


    With that, she hurried off towards the corridor leading to my room.


    ***


    I entered my room a while after she had vanished.


    The ce was in disarray with clothes Trisha had discarded. It felt like she had marked her territory before being chased off.


    From my memories of the orphanage, undressing so carelessly was characteristic of young children. Usually, such behavior fades with maturity but Trisha sometimes acts childlike.


    At most, she is one or two years younger than me.


    I picked up a basket and gathered Trishas shed garments.


    Seeing no undergarments, it seemed she nned to hand-wash those herself.


    Considering her wild tendencies, I wondered what kind of life she had led in the past.


    Conversely, she might have had simr questions about me  a person so different from her.


    Her proposal lingered in my mind.


    Exchange pasts, huh?


    I set down the basket and sat at the table beside the terrace. The days were short this time of year, and the moon was already high.


    Under the moonlight, I pondered over old memories for a while.


    I could understand Trishas sentiments in asking about my past so earnestly.


    Reflecting back, whether it was Silveryn or Trisha, it was always them reaching out to further our rtionship.


    Was it not frustrating to them? Although we called each other friends, we barely knew anything substantial about one another.


    For a very long time, I had forgotten how to reach back.


    ***


    The next morning, I stopped the carriage in front of Eternias main gate. After getting out, I said to Trisha,


    Trisha, you go back to the mansion alone tonight.


    She paused in brushing her white hair and looked puzzled.


    Why? What are you nning to do in Eternia?


    Yes. I have something to take care of.


    Why wont you tell me what it is?


    I need to practice painting. Ill paint until dawn and then rest at the dormitory.


    Youre lying.


    Her shoulders slumped, and her expression dimmed. The umtion of her disappointments was clearly mounting.


    Was being left in the dark all the time so unsettling for her? Once again, I saw the shadow of the young Liza in Trishas behavior  always clinging, sulking even with a short parting.


    Are all girls like this, or do white-haired ones have a peculiar gic attachment disorder?


    Let me keep just one secret to myself. Dont be too upset. Instead of keeping youpany tomorrow night Ill bake you a Sankrotis-style apple pie.


    Crossing her arms in front of her, Trisha looked away in a sulk.


    If you dont want it, Ill eat it myself.


    I want some too.


    Her sulkiness disappeared as quickly as it came at the mention of making food. It wasforting that her moods could be easily swayed by such simple things.


    Good. Youre in charge of getting the ingredients. See you tomorrow.


    What? Why should I have to prepare!


    Before she could finish, I closed the door and tapped twice, signalling the carriage driver to move on.


    Thats how you teach people not to take kindness for granted. Youd have your way if you were an adult, but youre not, are you?


    As the carriage pulled away, Trisha pressed her forehead against the rear window, shouting.


    Hey! I dont know anything about that!!