The path across the grasslands,
stretching from the foot of Adom Yekitza’s bridge,
was gentle and open.
Now and then,
the wind stirred a ripple through the grass—
that was all.
No birdsong.
No insects.
Just quiet.
Crys and TT walked on,
talking about the Tseva they would be assigned to.
Crys wasn’t fond of shared living,
but with TT,
he thought,
it might actually be fun.
TT felt the same way.
And even if they were placed in different Tseva,
they promised they’d still visit each other.
Crys hadn’t given up
on returning to the real world—
not yet.
But compared to a dull high school life
where he lagged behind in class
and had no friends,
being here with TT
was starting to feel
more worthwhile than he’d expected.
The path followed the river.
After a while,
an old castle came into view.
A massive oak stood as a marker,
where the road split in two—
left, toward the Rofeh village;
right, toward the castle.
Without thinking,
Crys and TT headed for the village.
Then—
voices.
Not just a few.
Shouting.
Angry.
Even animal cries,
carried from the direction of the castle.
They didn’t want trouble.
But the noise felt wrong—
too crude for a place that looked so grand.
Curiosity won.
They moved closer.
Past the old oak,
it was as if a deep green curtain had been drawn aside.
The bridge leading to the castle
lay fully exposed.
A line of youths stood across it.
All of them restless.
Uneasy.
Something was off.
One brayed in a strained,
almost donkey-like voice.
Another grabbed at his Guide,
ranting.
Others shouted,
their voices loud and incoherent.
Stretching up on their toes,
Crys and TT tried to see the front of the line.
There—
a girl sobbing uncontrollably.
And Rone,
looking flustered,
trying to calm her.
The girl pressed a hand hard over her mouth.
Even when Rone or her Guide reached for her,
she refused them completely.
TT spoke to the girl at the very back—
the one who seemed,
strangely,
entirely calm.
“Hey.
What’s this line for?”
The girl turned.
Crys saw her face
and blurted out,
without thinking—
“Suguri?”
What on earth had happened?
Suguri’s soft, cotton-candy pink hair—
so light it once looked spun from dreams—
had turned into brown, stringy curls.
From behind,
Crys hadn’t recognized her at all.
Girls could sink into a foul mood
just from their bangs not sitting right;
there was always at least one in class
complaining about it every day.
A change like that had to be a shock.
But Suguri herself
seemed completely unfazed.
With that same dreamy,
slightly nasal voice,
she answered.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“I wanted to match Lesa’s hair color.
Then I turned into
a pink emperor penguin chick,
then a long-haired kitty,
and now I’m a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel.”
“Lesamin.”
Perched on Suguri’s shoulder,
Lesamin looked at Crys
and let out a cry
that sounded profoundly fed up.
Irritating little creature, he thought—even for someone else’s Guide.
Speaking of irritating—
something felt missing.
He glanced around,
then asked.
“Where’s Rokyu?”
“When I couldn’t change back,
that kid freaked out worse than I did.
Kept insisting on coming with me to Rone,
so I told him to stay behind
and practice magic.
By now,
he’s probably scratching someone.”
“You couldn’t change back?”
“That’s everyone here.
Reri, at the front—
she just wanted nicer teeth.
And then,
poof,
no teeth at all.
Hard to say my-pen-lai like that.”
“Lesamin.”
Lesamin cried again,
clearly exasperated.
So that’s why
the girl at the front
was covering her mouth.
Crys nodded to himself.
Everyone here
had cast magic on themselves,
messed it up,
and come running to Rone.
Self-inflicted,
he thought,
letting out a weary sigh.
Suguri must have mistaken it
for impatience at the long wait.
She looked Crys and TT over,
from head to toe,
tilted her head,
and asked.
“What did you two do?”
“Well, I—”
Before he could finish,
a sharper scream rose from the front.
All three of them turned at once.
From what drifted back down the line, it sounded like the teeth had grown back—
longer than her lips this time.
At that age,
it wasn’t strange
to panic as if the world were ending.
Watching her,
the boys nearby let out low groans,
as if thinking,
We’re next.
Only Suguri remained calm.
“In this world,
things turn out
the way you imagine them.
Bad thoughts do too.
Rone said you have to calm down first,
but that’s really hard
when it’s happening to you.
She’s probably imagining the worst,
and it comes true,
so she imagines something worse,
and that comes true too.
It feels like she’s stuck
in a bad loop.”
“Are you okay?”
Crys asked.
He pointed at her hair.
Suguri twirled
the brown curls
stuck flat to her cheek.
“Cavalier King Charles Spaniels are cute.
But I want to be
a red panda princess.
I’m glad I didn’t try
making my nose taller.
If I’d turned into a blobfish,
even I would’ve panicked.
Then I’d probably become
a Mexican salamander,
then a proboscis monkey,
and finally
a star-nosed mole.”
“What kind of animal is that?”
“A nose covered in tentacles.”
Crys shuddered,
picturing it.
He’d felt it before,
when she’d called Lesamin a caterpillar—
Suguri’s sense of things
didn’t always line up with his.
Beside him,
TT was biting back a smile,
like he knew exactly
what Crys was imagining.
Crys shook the image from his head
and jerked his chin
toward Reri,
still wailing.
“If she needs to calm down first,
can’t you just use magic for that?”
“If we could,
don’t you think we would?”
Suguri said lightly.
“…Right.”
Only then did Crys realize
he’d been assuming
people here could fix moods with magic
as easily as breathing.
Hadn’t Soliorbis said it?
Different Tseva,
different strengths.
Maybe Rone wasn’t good at magic
that changed how people felt.
Or maybe she could use it,
but chose not to.
Or maybe Soliorbis—
who could do everything—
was the unusual one.
“What’s wrong?”
TT asked,
concerned,
as Crys suddenly grabbed his head.
“I just realized
I’ve started thinking of magic
as something normal.”
As if on cue,
Dimon appeared on the bridge,
surrounded by his entourage,
wearing that same smug grin.
Nope. Not dealing with that again.
Crys grabbed TT’s arm,
ready to leave—
but Dimon got there first,
raising his voice
so everyone could hear.
“I heard there was a circus troupe
camped out in the old castle,
so I came to see.
Never thought I’d find
a fellow Talmid putting on a show.
Testing what happens when you fail,
with your own body on the line—
I suppose that’s why you were chosen as a Rofeh.”
“What good does slander do!
It’s pointless, Dimon!”
A boy with a strong sense of justice
shouted back,
baring his teeth—
but his voice cracked,
warping into a strained,
rasping bray.
“—hee-haw.”
Dimon and his entourage
burst into laughter,
mocking him openly,
exaggerating the sound.
“Pointless, Dimon.
Hee-haw.”
One of them—Zimek—
jutted out his lower teeth
and mimicked the sound,
playing the fool.
Dimon waved a hand,
lazy and dismissive,
like a customer
looking down on a waiter.
“Regrettably,
I only respond to the King’s English.
If you wish to speak,
do correct your diction first.”
“I said be silent—hee!
This has gone too far—haw!”
At the edge of his patience,
the boy rolled up his sleeves
and reached for his staff,
long enough to span
from fingertips to shoulder,
stepping out of line—
—but his Guide,
a rabbit that leapt
many times its own height,
blocked him.
“I understand your concern, hee.
But this insolence
cannot be overlooked, haw.”
The Guide nodded,
as if in agreement,
then struck the ground hard
with its hind legs in Taref’s direction,
Dimon’s Guide.
Taref merely circled Dimon,
unbothered,
wearing an air of lazy indifference.
Either Dimon couldn’t control it,
or never intended to.
Either way,
the way it grated on people
felt very Dimon,
Crys thought.
Dimon and his companions
pressed on,
covering their mouths
and wailing “oo-ahh” to mock Reri, who had lost all her teeth,
leaping like frogs in front of a girl whose skin had turned toad-like,
baring their teeth and braying “hee-haw,”
apparently pleased with that one.
The girls in line
stepped back,
trying not to draw attention.
Among the boys,
those with shorter tempers
looked ready
to swing at any moment.
Only after their fill of ridicule
did Dimon finally notice Crys,
curling his lips
into a nasty smile.
“You’re still here.
Guide-less.”
Crys sighed.
He knew the type—
ever since middle school.
Boys like this
only wanted to look impressive
in front of their friends.
They didn’t actually swing.
He turned his face away,
clearly uninterested.
TT was about to speak—
but Suguri stepped forward first,
smiling softly,
and pointed straight at Dimon.
“You grew taller too.
Keeping it subtle was clever,
but your sleeves don’t fit,
and you’re not extending your arms.
The balance is off.”
Dimon froze.
He hadn’t expected
to be the one dissected,
let alone mocked.
For a moment,
he couldn’t even speak.
Then he noticed—
his own entourage
were smirking at him.
His face flushed red
as he stepped toward Suguri.
“Don’t talk nonsense!
Commenting on appearances—
this is exactly what I’d expect
from someone with no breeding,
no lineage!”
“Then what do you call
what you were just doing?
So it’s fine when you do it,
but unforgivable when it’s done to you?
That makes no sense.
You tried to lose weight.
But the skin on your cheeks is sagging.
You—
your hair color doesn’t match
where it’s grown out.
A bit tacky.
And you—
that brand doesn’t suit you.
That outfit doesn’t really feel like you.”
“Lesamin.”
Ignoring Dimon entirely,
Suguri pointed at each of them in turn.
The entourage reacted instinctively—
touching their cheeks,
checking their bangs,
and Zimek,
told his clothes didn’t suit him,
crossed his long arms
to hide the oversized logo.
Suguri’s voice
held no mockery at all.
But the truths she named
were exactly what they hadn’t wanted
anyone to see.
Behind them,
the boys who’d been mocked earlier
burst into laughter and applause.
That only worsened things.
“You’re one to talk—
look at that ridiculous hair.
Like a soaked dog.”
“A Cavalier King Charles Spaniel
is very cute.”
Suguri twirled her bangs again,
absently.
“But I want to adjust it more,
to suit my taste.
That’s why I’m in line—
to learn how to use magic properly.
Maybe you should ask too.
Fix that imbalance.”
“I told you—
I didn’t do anything!”
“Then you were unbalanced to begin with.
If you keep lying,
you forget when to stop.
You should be honest.
This is a place
where you can become
who you want to be.
Of course people try things.
Wanting to be taller
isn’t something to be ashamed of.”
Dimon’s face darkened,
red bleeding toward purple.
His teeth chattered.
His clenched fists shook.
He’d likely never known
a world
that didn’t bend his way.
His eyes,
rimmed with red,
held something raw—
humiliation tangled with rage.
Suguri’s eyes,
round and sweet
like candy,
met his directly,
unafraid.
“We’ll be seeing each other
for a long time,
so I’ll say this now.
If you want to pick fights,
that’s your choice.
But choose your opponent carefully.
Big animals are gentle.
Small ones bite first.
And by that measure—
you have no idea
what I might do.”
Her voice remained airy,
dreamlike—
yet even Crys,
standing beside her,
felt the weight of it.
If Crys felt it,
Dimon surely did.
At first,
Dimon looked blank,
as if he hadn’t understood.
Then he realized—
the boys he’d mocked
were now laughing at him,
and even his new followers
were whispering against him.
A shame he’d never felt before
flooded his face.
With nowhere left to retreat,
his hand moved
before his thoughts did.
“Don’t act superior—
you don’t even speak
the King’s English!”
His arm swung up
with a shrill shout,
and for a moment
it looked as if
his hand would strike
Suguri’s cheek.
Crys couldn’t move.
TT grasped the wand
he’d summoned midair.
Too late.
Unable to watch
a girl be hurt,
Crys squeezed his eyes shut.
