Chapter 6 — To Trust a Stranger

It was indeed a long day for the young Princess Anne who had to take part on the funeral of the deceased honorary servants of the country at the Queen Regent's absence.

Despite having a close communication with the noble family members like the Hansens, she has never showed up on any occasion outside the palace if not for official meetings. Although no curious soul ever dared to ask her why for it is an obvious thing, she would say it is to not cause fright over the civilians she would meet by the road.

All dressed in black, the Princess directly made her way to her 'aunt's' office, only to be greeted by her apprentice alone who happens to be fixing papers on her Aunt's desk. "Hi, Sherfy. . ." she wearily replied back to her bowing before slumping her body down the couch. 

"Ugh, that was tiring. I just had to attend the guests and meet families on her behalf and I'm this exhausted already. . ."

"Maybe it's your mental capacity speaking, Princess," Sherfy said, making her usual honest remark. 

"No need to be harsh, Sherfy, but that's certainly true. Where is she anyway? It's late." Still lifelessly laying her body like a corpse, Anne worriedly thought about her aunt who seem to be real hard-pressed lately. 

With all the preparations, negotiations and meetings brought about or not by the tragic incident, she knew everything's been tough for her. Moreover, she has her suspicions up about something serious Serina has been digging into these past few days. Whatever it is, it is surely beyond her apprehension and capabilities, but she cannot help but feel like there's something she must do to be of aid. 

"She would be visiting the Wind Catcher to seek for advices, she said."

"Eh? Is she going to be fine alone at this rate?" 

"Of course, Princess. She could just burn the entire forest up to signal us for help."

"There's no way she'd be needing help if that's the case. Also, the forest's dear to her, ain't it?"

Anne has never been into Serina's privately owned place yet she has already heard so much about it before, being literally remote and far. She used to dwell in a huge manor house is all the Princess is knowledgeable about, but knowing her aunt for a decade being a perfectionist and all, it must be a beautiful place to live—befitting of a gorgeous and sophisticated lady like her. 

"Precisely, that's why she went there in the first place. There's no better place to unwind other than a forest, specifically the Realm of Doterraaoven."

"The land of fairies, is it?" she lifts her head up, gazing at the ceiling's intricate carvings. Recalling her late father's narratives from back then, she suddenly felt a slight touch of loneliness inside.

"That's not wrong, too."

"Ugh, I haven't seen her since last night. . ." another glimpse of 'that' moment from the not-so-distant past made her heart ache even more. 

Meanwhile, Sherfy, with her hands finally free of papers replies, "Mister Hansen's death wasn't the first. . but it is one. . ." she utters in a low, downhearted tone. 

". . ."

"I apologize Princess, but I have to go back to my workshop," she bid her farewell with a graceful bow. 

"Oh, sure. Bye bye."

Exactly when the elf just turned her back, Anne suddenly felt her sleepiness kick in. But even before she could finish yawning, Sherfy took another swivel towards her direction.

"I almost forgot, classes will resume tomorrow, please don't be late." 

Yes, she's a respectable professor in the Academia, by the way. Despite her age, seemingly misanthropic character (though it is not actually how it is) and undeniably frank tongue, she has been hailed as one of the best performing Master out there, having sent a lot of students to professional magecraft jobs in just a span of five years of her teaching career. After all, she has been trained by none other than the infamous Witch herself.

"I know. I know."

Hearing the sound of the door closing, Anne finally got to sigh a breath of relief and relaxation. "It'll be okay, right, auntie?"

With that, her eyes automatically closed, ready to call it a day.

But her daredevil inner self says no. 

After just a few minutes of a partial nap, her body — not used to doing royal duties and not doing anything 'fun' for the day, quickly got up to stand. Where such energy rooted from is no important, neither is the time being impractical for a far off stroll. 

"Uhm, it's late, but not that late. Tee hee."

Pulling herself a horse to ride, she straightway drove past the guards towards the main gate.

"Princess, where are you—"

"I'll tell auntie myself tomorrow, a'ight!"

***

It is a shame to admit how Tristan actually felt so much exhilarated when 'Ersilia' asked him to accompany her somewhere she never gave any clue on. Even without any knowledge of her identity nor any answer to the mysteries that stacked up tall on his mind concerning her every action and speech, he still willingly followed her from behind.

"Is there really a need for me to go alongside you?"

"You will see, now let's go." Fixing the hood of her cape, the woman then lit an oil lamp before taking the path of the dark forest behind. 

"H-Hold on! Forgive me but—" 

"I can help you earn a place at the selection."

"H-huh?" Her statement made Tristan's eyes widen in surprise. 'Earn a place at the selection,' who is she, really? Not that it's the first time he ever asked himself the same question, but in every thoughts she voices, all there is . . is mystery. The more she talks, the more his comprehension of her turns out wrong. 

"I sense neither an active mana point nor its route of flow in you. You have never considered becoming a mage, if I'm not mistaken."

"Uhm, ahe . . you see I am a breadwinner so I cannot afford to enter the Academia to train. Also, I do not think I would be that promising of a mage," he honestly answered. 

It is true that he never indulged himself into studying any mystic arts, but he did once dreamed of becoming one despite the fact that he's financially far-flung to. 

All of a sudden, he remembers that one mage who passed by their town during his younger days, said it's such a shame how his younger sister who's physically frail has more advantageous amount of mana than him who's really determined. 

From then on, he abandoned this little dream, and continued to practice his archery skill instead. 

"Surely. But mages are qualified for the selection too and they'd have the upper hand, undoubtedly. Now come with me, it's for your own benefit, anyway."

The night has completely swallowed the bright sky as they walk further, and the same forest he visits every twilight seems to slowly transform into an unfamiliar place from his perspective. He no longer see any wild plum trees, healthy green bushes, or lively flowers anywhere. All there is right now, are thorny, spooky-looking, lifeless trunks and thick roots of dead trees. 

"Uhm, ah—" he mumbled, trying to start a conversation with the woman. 

"I have been wondering," she interrupted, "How confident are you with your skill in archery?"

"I actually have never assessed myself that way."

"You'd be competing against various people of different skills and talents soon as you step up for the selection, and all you did was shoot at plum berries and an innocent deer to count."

"Uh, that's certainly true. However I know I have the reason to be there, I can tell where my destiny is taking me to."

. . . and that one 'truth' he's been seeking. 

"What a concrete conviction. Interesting."

"R-Really. . ." he embarrassingly uttered. 

"Now then, may I ask, would you entitle yourself an 'Archer'?" the woman once again threw a question, without turning to meet his gaze. 

It was a question he neither asked himself nor did he expects to hear. 

"I-I don't know. . ."

"Why not?"

He sighed. "I gained this skill from my late father, we used to live in a small village surrounded by forests— you know — outside any Kingdom's authority. Everyone depends on him to shoo the monsters away, even taught the youngsters how to fight. Back then, he wields his bow and shoots arrows like a real warrior—and I think that makes him worthy of being called an 'archer', unlike me. . you said it yourself—I still haven't found my resolve. . ."

"And by participating in the selection, you'll attain it?"

"Probably. . . I honestly can't think of anything to use this skill for if not for that."

"That reminds me, don't you think you'll just end up being another pawn for the Queen Regent?" 

His heartbeat went faster than the normal upon hearing her inquiry. Although this time, he has a prepared answer beforehand, he has never had a conversation with anyone regarding such matter, pulling him into a state of hesitation.

Collecting the courage left in him, he spoke his thoughts, "I-I don't think anyone even became one. As someone from below, I am aware of how anyone really feels about her. They never look up to her out of respect but because of her position and power alone."

"Isn't that a common thought. . ." 

"It is. And I do not believe being a servant to the country makes you a servant to the Queen Regent or any royalties up there."

He might have said his opinion clear as day, he still doubts it is right for him to tell someone he only knows the name of. 

". . ."

"By the way, Miss Ersilia, where are we going now? Aren't we straying off too far?"

"You can always tell me if you want to go back," she calmly answered.

"You should have told me earlier. . ." Tristan whispered, slightly regretting coming all the way to where she took him. 

"What is it?"

"Nothing, I have already decided I'll go with you." It was a half lie. 

"Is that so. Anyway, it seems we're a little close."

With that, 'Ersilia' took a halt and stood at one side, giving Tristan a clearer view of what is before them.

"A-A cave?"

"Oh, you're backing off? Tch. I guess you're afraid of the dark, I should not have—"

"N-No, it's not like that," he responded with a stutter, almost trembling. 

"Then, there's no time to waste now."

Those were her last words before completely allowing herself be swallowed by the terror-screaming pitch black hole ahead.