Cain's perspective 2

I knew my sister was special.

But that was special only within our family.

It should never have been anything else.

And yet, it was not so.

Recently, our family has been residing in the domain. The primary purpose was my magical research, and Spica’s earnest request to visit the current lord.

At first, it was to be a journey for two. But Spica, having not set foot in the domain since she was two years old, insisted on her father and mother accompanying her. Even her younger brothers joined in, conspiring to tag along under the guise of a family outing. A complete miscalculation. Yet, in the capital city, I became so occupied that I could not often reach Spica. Perhaps, in the end, it was fortunate. Unwillingly, of course…

Because I had been engaged in magical research, the church delayed granting me permission to visit. Just when I thought it had finally been granted, I was told it would only be allowed if the visit were conducted as a meeting between noble houses. Even if I had not already kept Spica waiting, the refusal of permission for my studies stirred some irritation. Yet I understood the church’s position, upholding secrecy and protection in matters of the arcane, and so I chose to yield this time. Above all, I could not bear to keep Spica waiting any longer.

And then, on the day of the visitation, the incident occurred.

There had been no trouble reaching the sanctuary. Perhaps a minor dispute between the cardinal and my father, but Spica likely did not notice—so it mattered not.

I had heard that the number of candidates for the Virgin of the Barrier had dwindled in recent years, but I had never imagined that someone would attempt to spit upon a child still too young to be a debutante.

It is said that the Cardinal rose to his current station by offering his youngest daughter, born in later years, as the Virgin of the Barrier. Should she secure the next Virgin through her own influence, her voice within the Church might grow stronger… I must remain vigilant.

Now, to the matter at hand.

We were led through the hidden sanctum with our eyes covered. The purpose, no doubt, was to disorient our sense of direction, rendering the true location of the sanctum unknown. The guides must have changed several times; only a select few within the Church are privy to the actual site.

I worried whether Spica was frightened, but it was a rule—there was nothing to be done. I, too, was blindfolded, and thus unable to verify anything myself.

After walking for what felt like a considerable time, we arrived at a small chamber, where the guide removed the blindfold. It was not a thick covering, and my eyes adjusted quickly. The room was a windowless cylinder illuminated by candlelight.

Spica appeared composed, a relief. She seemed calm, yet her tension and anticipation were evident. She must know that the Sanctuary lay beyond this chamber.

This room was familiar. Two years prior, during the succession ceremony of the Virgin of the Barrier, I had been brought here as deputy head of the household. At the time, preoccupied with duties, I had not observed much, but now I fixed my gaze on the magical array at my feet. It resembled a transfer rune, yet bore the marks of a barrier formation. Was it layered? Perhaps…

While pondering such thoughts, the cardinal’s voice summoned light from the magical array beneath my feet. It was a composite spell formation—part transfer rune, part barrier enchantment, interwoven with dummy incantations for dimensional shift, barrier magic, and seal-breaking rituals. Even I, though uninitiated, could not have deciphered it at first glance; yet this was the second time I had encountered it. Though not all of it was known, I recognized several elements from previously seen formations.

A pause, then the transfer completed. I stood in a dimly lit chamber, its walls of rough stone.

At the chamber’s center, a raised platform held a sleeping alcove. Two sarcophagi, known as sleeping chambers, rested there in solemn stillness. At each corner, magical artifacts were embedded into the stone, glowing faintly—enough to illuminate the space without hindering movement.

When the cardinal prompted me to greet the current master, Spica, without hesitation, stepped forward toward the sarcophagus on the right.

It seemed I was not the only one to find it strange, for the cardinal asked Spica, “Ah, you’ve noticed our current master resting in that bier, have you?”

Spica, being of her stature, could not possibly see the form of the current master without approaching closely. Of course, I had not informed her of this beforehand. I myself had not even remembered which sarcophagus housed the current master.

Spica tilted her head slightly, as if to ask why such a thing would be inquired about. “After all,” she replied, “if one shines so brightly, is it not natural to assume they are here?”

I was startled. Only four dim lights illuminated the corners of this dim chamber.

What, then, could Spica possibly see?

It became clear that to Spica, the bier appeared to glow.

I asked her how she perceived it.

A pale yellow light, like inscribed characters wrapped around the bier, appears to encircle it. And the band of these characters seems to stretch upward into the heavens.

I could not conceal my excitement at her words.

“Characters? Can you tell me what they say?” I asked in quick succession. Spica, startled, still answered.

“Um… since the script is ancient, I cannot read all of it, but I recognize parts of it—those sections are the same as in the sacred texts.”

What a revelation. If my hypothesis holds true, then Spica must be seeing the magical sigil of the Virgin of the Barrier!

That the cardinal declared Spica a holder of the divine eye matters not at all. I am overjoyed beyond measure that my sister holds the key to solving a mystery that has endured for years.

I asked her, voice rushing out faster than I could have imagined—whether any words were etched upon her, whether I could see the beginning of the incantation—so hastily that even I was startled. Spica was clearly flustered.

I had begun to ask another question when my father’s hand on my shoulder pulled me back into reality. “Calm yourself. You are before the current head of the household. First, you must greet the head. Satisfying your curiosity can wait.”

A wave of regret washed over me. As a scholar, perhaps it was the proper response. But as the next heir, it was undeniably inadequate. Worse still, I had made Spica uneasy. I had never wished to trouble her…

I turned to my father and murmured, “I apologize,” then reached out toward Spica, gesturing for her to greet the head of the household. Spica took my hand with a visible breath of relief.

In the span of just a few steps, I quieted my mind.

I understood that Spica had perceived the ritual. The research would now advance exponentially. I stepped forward to the threshold, the boundary raised by one level, and bowed in knightly salute. If the current lords are shields, then we nobles are spears. A gesture of respect, as fellow guardians of the realm.

Glancing to my side, I saw Spica not performing the lady’s bow, but the reverence due to a lord. So deeply did she regard the current lord that her expression faded, as if drawn toward the coffin. I reached out instinctively, only to realize my fingers had been struck by a sharp jolt, as if repelled.

A barrier, invisible yet undeniable, had appeared before me. I recognized it as the sanctum’s protective ward. Yet I could not comprehend why Spica stood within it. I pounded the wall and called her name aloud, but there was no response.

"Hey! Spica! Come back! Spica! Can you hear me?"

My father shouts, but there is still no reply. She does not seem to hear at all. Perhaps Spica is being forced to shake her head beside the current master... or perhaps she is enduring torment... too much is unknown... Suddenly, Spica kneels upon the floor. For a moment, I fear she has collapsed, but it appears she is praying. Seeing her posture, I breathe a quiet relief—there is no sign of injury.

Then I realize. A cardinal is present here. Perhaps he knows something. I turn to him, demanding answers.

"Cardinal, what is the meaning of this? What is happening? If the circumstances demand it, we cannot remain silent."

The cardinal’s own confusion is plain to see.

“We, too, are quite bewildered—this is our first time encountering such a circumstance. Yet the activation of the barrier suggests the will of the current Mistress has been enacted…”

The cardinal’s hesitant words did nothing to ease my father’s mounting frustration.

“You wouldn’t seriously be considering forcing my daughter into the role of next Maiden, would you?”

I flinched at my father’s words. It was not an impossible notion. The Church had long since voiced concern over the weakening of the Maiden’s power, urging swift consideration of her successor…

My father and I exchanged a glance, then struck the barrier with all our strength.

“Please, stop! To further attack the barrier may result in your expulsion. The Church does not currently intend to remove the young lady—but we cannot say for certain what will happen…”

Since expulsion was something we wished to avoid, we ceased pounding the wall. We abandoned quietly working to undo the spell as well.

It seems, for now, we can only watch.

It was about an hour and a half later when movement began. Spica rose and reached toward the current-century coffin.

At the moment I thought the glass top would strike her, the surface warped unnaturally, swallowing her hand whole. We clung to the barrier, hearts in our throats, fearing it would consume her entirely.

Yet, unbeknownst to our worry, Spica drew her hand back—and the coffin did not swallow her.

As Spica bowed toward the coffin, the barrier that had held me in place vanished. Father and I rushed toward her.

By a breath’s difference, Spica was caught in Father’s arms. She seemed unaware of the situation.

“Can you explain what happened?” I asked, leaning close to her delicate face. After a pause, as if searching her memory, Spica began to speak.

“Um… I was summoned by the current Lady of the Gate. It seems the Lady’s sacred power does not harmonize well with the land’s strength in Emmental, so she asked me to lend her my own power. I lent her my strength, as she requested. She said it would hold for a time. But now, the Lady of the southern lands is nearly spent—apparently, her power and the land’s do not align, just as with our Lady. Also, the Lady asked me to pass on a message: please do not overexert yourself, my lord father.”

I pondered Spica’s words.

Indeed, then, there is a connection between the land’s strength and sacred power… Perhaps this explains why the Virgin of the Barrier has changed so often in recent years. And Spica said she had lent her strength. If she can transfer her sacred power in such a way, might she not be able to endure her position for longer?

“Spica…? Spica! What is it? Spica!”

The voice calling Spica was the one that pulled me from the sea of thought. I turned my gaze immediately, and there she was—Spica, limp and unconscious. My blood ran cold in an instant.

She had returned from the barrier! I had let my guard down!

Could it be... she had truly fallen into the duty-sleep?

We stood frozen, unable to act, when the Cardinal stepped forward. “Nothing can be done here. Let us move her to the church’s infirmary, at once.” That was sound advice.

Without delay, we transferred her to a room beside the cathedral—no blindfold, no ceremony. It was an emergency evacuation route, and now was the time to use it.

Hastening to the infirmary, we received a diagnosis: “This is a state of dormancy due to exhaustion and overuse of sacred power. We cannot say when she will awaken. But when she does, she must drink holy water for several days.”

After observing for about three hours, there was no sign of her waking.

Though I did not wish to move her forcibly, I wished to have her rest properly in a proper bed, so I strained myself and brought her back to the manor. Seeing Spica sleep as if dead, Mother collapsed.

Spica awoke two days later, just before noon.

All family members took turns watching over her, staying by her side. She regained her strength quickly.

I am consumed with rage toward the Elder Brother. Because I could not manage on my own, I seized the power of a young girl who happened to be present, using it to compensate. And that child had only stayed there out of pure devotion to the Elder Brother, wishing only to express her gratitude…

If Spica had not said to me, “I am truly sorry for troubling you. But I did it of my own will, so please do not blame the Elder Brother. Promise me!”—

Thanks to the conversations I had with Spica after she awoke, my research culminated in a hypothesis presented to the academy, drawing widespread attention. It would be tested in the southern territories, shaking the foundations of the Virgin of the Barrier’s system.