Separation

“Stop! Stop, I beg you!”

Viviane’s cry for mercy rang through the air, piercing the sound of roaring flames that had once dominated the stadium. Tears flowed down her face uncontrollably as she could do nothing but watch as her knight shielded her from harm.

That gentle smile which brightened her day. Those toned muscles that protected her. That lustrous silver hair she loved. It was all burning away.

She could not bear it.

“Do you surrender?” Princess Gwenhwyfar’s voice was unbelievably cold in contrast to the flames she had conjured.

“Y-Yes! I surrender, I surrender! So please stop, princess!”

At once, the beam of flames dissipated into the air, leaving no trace of having ever existed other than the smoke that rose from Medrauta’s blackened body.

Upon laying eyes on her knight, Viviane’s tears increased tenfold. The pain that Medrauta must have experienced was on a level that was incomprehensible to her. In fact, she had already long fallen unconscious.

Yet still she stood.

But Viviane could not do the same. She collapsed onto her knees, unable to stop the stream of tears that ran endlessly down her cheeks and puddled beneath her as she sobbed upon the dais.

All she could do was stand upon that accursed dais uselessly yet again, watching as Medrauta threw herself into battle and risked her life while she did nothing but stand and look pretty on top of this damned platform.

As she wept, the words that Medrauta had said to her on the day they’d first met now rang again in her head.

‘It is the knight who determines the worth of a Crest. We’re the ones flinging ourselves at the enemy. All you nobles do is sit back and channel your mana into us after bestowing your Crest.’

And what did I say in reply? ‘We do a little more than that’? What a joke. I can’t even resonate with her... Just what am I even doing here? All I’ve done... All I’ve ever done is make Medrauta look bad.

“That’s not true, my lady.”

“H-Huh!?”

Medrauta’s voice was nothing more than a whisper. The flames had charred her entire body and seared the very air that she breathed. To regain consciousness so quickly despite that and even retain the ability to speak was a feat that defied logic itself.

“The look in your eyes... It’s as if you’re saying you’re useless...” Medrauta forced a wheezing breath with great difficulty. Strands of once-pristine silver hair fell from her burnt scalp.

The flames that Galatine spewed had reduced her beauty to literal ashes. Yet, in Viviane’s eyes, there was still no knight more noble or charming than she. There would never be.

“I have never once... thought that of you. Viviane... I will forever be your knight... no matter the distance... Al... ways...”

And at last, with a final shuddering sigh, Medrauta allowed herself to collapse into the tender arms of her lady... and the cold darkness that awaited her.

†

“Father will disapprove of this.”

“Silence, Galahad. Father will understand.”

Prince Galahad very much doubted that the emperor would understand the excessive force that his sister had employed. Gwenhwyfar should have stopped the beam the moment Medrauta cried out in pain, but she had already made her choice. The consequences would have to be dealt with.

The two of them had returned to their prep room after the match ended. Galahad required medical attention, and the royal surgeon that attended them during this excursion had seen fit to administer treatment immediately.

As he was being treated, Galahad focused his mind on the near future. He knew what the terms of this challenge had been, and now that the adrenaline of the match had left his body, he could not help but wonder.

“...Sister?”

Princess Gwenhwyfar turned to regard her brother with an impassive glance, waiting for his query.

“Are you... going to throw me away now? Am I... no longer fit to be your knight?”

The princess hesitated for a moment, but a certain steel quickly overtook whatever softness had been in her gaze. “Galahad. You know me very well. I always take back what is mine.”

Prince Galahad bowed his head. When he spoke, his voice was bitter. “...Of course, sister.”

†

“Begin administering the salve. We’ll need to lower her body temperature before Sir Horace can begin treatment with my Crest.”

“Understood, Lady Ysolte. We’ll begin administering the salve now.”

Viviane watched the silhouettes of the academy’s best medical professionals with trepid eyes. Her whole body trembled in fear and worry. Medrauta’s body was shielded behind thick curtains, and though Viviane knew that the academy’s staff would give it their best, she couldn’t help but plague her mind with the worst possible outcomes.

Every time a nurse or lady stepped out of the curtains, her eyes would invariably lock onto them until they disappeared from her field of vision. At first, the medical staff ignored it, but her wide-eyed and fearful stare soon became bothersome for those who exited and returned frequently.

Eventually, a nurse approached Viviane with a kind smile. She sat next to the blonde-haired noblewoman, laying a tentative hand on her shoulder.

“Your knight will be fine, young lady. Would you mind waiting outside? The staff need to focus, and some of them are finding it hard to do so when there’s such a beautiful lady waiting for them every time they step out of the curtains.”

Though the nurse’s voice was soothing, Viviane was anything but soothed. Even so, she could do nothing but comply. The last thing she wanted was to agitate the staff who were treating Medrauta and cause them to make a mistake.

“W-Will you please come fetch me when... W-When it’s done?”

The nurse nodded reassuringly. “Of course.”

With a reluctant curtsy, Viviane stepped out of the infirmary, only to find two familiar faces waiting outside.

“Viviane!” Brigitte seized Viviane by the shoulders, causing her to yelp in surprise. “How is she!? Is she going to be alright!?”

Though Levant remained silent as he stood slightly behind Brigitte, there was no mistaking the look of worry on his face. Likewise, there were a few more knights and nobles gathered around the infirmary entrance bearing worried looks, but Viviane didn’t recognize any of them.

“I... I don’t know yet... They said they’d let me know when they’re finished...”

“R-Right... Of course! I’m such an idiot for asking so soon!” Brigitte laughed nervously, attempting to shift the mood to something jovial as she heard Viviane’s voice crack. Anyone with eyes could tell that the girl was about to break into tears again.

“...It’ll be fine,” Levant said. “They have Lady Ysolte with them, after all. What was her title again?”

“Amaranth!” Someone in the crowd called out.

Levant smiled and nodded. “That’s right. Amaranth. The flower that never fades. It’s said that whoever serves as her knight can never die regardless of the wounds they suffer.”

He paused, looking to see if his words had any effect on Viviane. The noblewoman wasn’t faring any better, but it seemed as though her hands no longer shook so violently. Seeing this, Levant continued.

“Your father must’ve regaled you with his heroics at some point, right? I heard Lady Ysolte fought with him fifteen years ago when Kaslavna attempted to invade our northern borders. Surely he must’ve mentioned a thing or two about the lady’s crest?”

“...A-Ah. Now that you mention it, I b-believe he did. H-He said that Lady Ysolte could’ve b-brought the dead back to life, but I’m sure he was just exaggerating...”

Levant shook his head. “Nope. That’s actually true.”

At this, not only did Viviane’s eyes lock onto him, but the others followed suit as well.

“That’s right. I had a friend when I was growing up. We were on a hunting trip, but he was shot with an arrow through the throat by mistake. There wasn’t anyone close enough to help, so he passed away. I wept on my own as I cradled his body in my arms, but I was soon approached by someone.

“They wanted me to hand his body over, so naturally I refused. We argued for a bit, and they relented. Instead, they brought someone over and when that someone touched my friend, his eyes suddenly snapped open and he... Well, he was breathing again.” Levant laughed.

“No way!”

“Come on now, Lord Levant! You’re going to have to do better than that!”

“No, I’m serious!” Levant protested. “That’s really how I met Lady Ysolte and her knight! If you don’t believe me, you can ask her when she comes out!”

“Hah! I’ll hold ya to that!” One of the knights exclaimed.

“Um! I-Is that true! Did she really bring your friend back to life!?” Viviane suddenly burst out, her eyes now brimming with hope.

Levant nodded. “I’m not a great storyteller, but I assure you. Lady Ysolte did indeed bring my friend back to life. I swear on my name and House Ordis.”

“T-That’s wonderful! Thank you, Lord Levant!”

Now armed with the knowledge that Medrauta would not be lost to her even in the face of death, the last of Viviane’s worries lifted off her shoulders. She giggled happily, realizing how silly she’d been when someone so amazing was by Medrauta’s side all along. In doing so, she also realized how parched her throat was and quickly excused herself to retrieve a drink.

“She’s finally smiling again,” Levant remarked.

“...Are you sure that’s okay?” Brigitte frowned.

“What? I wasn’t lying.”

“...You were talking about Sessrumnir, weren’t you?”

Levant nodded. “Yeah.”

“My lord, you know as well as I do that Sessrumnir is a falcon. Lady Ysolte may be able to resurrect animals, but never has she done so for humans.”

“I know. It’s just... Don’t you think Medrauta would have wanted for her to smile?”

Brigitte sighed. She understood her lord’s sentiment very well, but she just couldn’t help but think...

...And if Medrauta perishes? What are we to do then?