Fallen Brides Story: Mimil, "Gift"

Gift /gift/ noun 1. A blessing. An ability. Something bestowed. 2. Poison. Thus do children learn the ways of life: The child raised receiving harsh judgment learns to judge harshly; the child raised amid animosity learns the necessity of rejecting others; the child raised the object of envy learns baseless guilt; the child taught tolerance beyond its years learns patience; the child raised receiving justified encouragement learns self-confidence; the child praised as it grows learns gratitude for its life; the child raised in fairness learns the spirit of justice; the child who received selfless consideration learns piety; the child raised in awareness of its connections to others learns the value of the self in society; and the child raised amid the love of fellows learns the love that reside in all creation. —Extract from The Teachings of the Philosopher Arc Treis, Nadokie Publishing — In any age, there are people called "prodigies": Boys who, at eight years old, understand treatises that even adults struggle to read; children who perform advanced medical techniques at barely more than ten; girls who, at fourteen, make unprecedented discoveries that change people's way of life completely. These are only extreme examples, but I haven't the time to list more. Such children, despite the fact that they have not yet reached an age one can call "mature," are the equals of any adult. They give free reign to the talents granted them. How then do adults — no, all the people around them — view these boys and girls? Some consider them special beings, residents of another world unconnected with themselves. Others see their rare talents and think to make use of them for their own ends. Still others see them as objects of adoration, regardless of their age, and in some cases even worship them. There are also those who reject them as the unique mixed in amongst the commonplace, foreign objects in a miniature garden, but in general people's reactions seem to fall into these three types. Well, here's the problem: among the three types of people I just listed, is there anyone who views these boys and girls as "boys" and "girls"? It's true that they possess rare abilities that astonish their elders, and they make conspicuous use of their talents. The people around them acknowledge that. As possessors of talent, it's not unusual for them to be regarded as more than human. For the "have-nots," that way of thinking is inevitable. But I'd like you to pause a moment and consider: When everyone views them like that and showers them in praise, don't they overlook something important? That before they are beings of a different world, before they are able prospective right-hands, before they are objects of adoration that possess rare abilities, those "boys" and "girls" are individual, human children, born from the loins of individuals, who by nature will always desire the warmth of their parents and of others. ◊ ♦ ◊ ♦ ◊ Mimiru Miltié. If you ask any citizen of the nation of Lescatié about the owner of this name, seven in ten will proudly recite her accomplishments, two will describe her actual state in somewhat crude terms, and one will look disgusted and grumble complaints about her. "A matchless magician." "Divinely-inspired intellect." "A pink little angel." Along with nicknames like these, you will be told her activities and achievements in numerous fields with a good deal of embellishment. But even if you were only to view a record of her career, that would be more than enough to convince you of her greatness, and her ability, which from an outsider's point of view could even be said to be of a different order from that of others. At the age of three she had memorized the letters and pronunciation needed for magical incantations, and at the age of five she had mastered all elementary spells. Her practical ability grew conspicuously at the greatest institute of magic in Lescatié, the College of Sorcery, which had been monitoring her talents and recruited her, and at nine years old she prevailed against the then-number two in the magical duels sponsored by the College. A year later she defeated number one as well, and it is said that she has remained undefeated until the present day. She is now twelve. And it wasn't only magical ability with which the heavens had endowed her. Just as she had fully acquired language at the age of three, she possessed intellect beyond her years in other areas as well. Not long after she was admitted to the College of Sorcery, she finished reading all the intermediate books of magic kept there, and a year after that she read through a variety of documents, including advanced books of magic as well as volumes on strategy and tactics. A year after that, she was writing treatises based on what she had read. Even in the annals of the Order, she holds the record as the youngest full-fledged magician in history, and some say that her record will never be broken. Between then and the present day, she has left her name on several records of magical war and monster suppression, along with a number of exceptional achievements. An especially famous anecdote of her activities comes from the war to repulse the amazonesses who inhabit the forests on Lescatié's borders. The amazonesses surpass humans, even adult men, in average physical and magical strength, and while their individual skill was impressive, they make group combat their specialty. Just ten years old at the time, Mimiru was able to see through their escape routes through this country where successive generations of magic guides had been at a loss how to proceed by mapping the terrain with an "Eye in the Sky." She then used the "Mirror-mist" spell, rarely used in ordinary battle due to its significant disadvantages, so that the terrain, with high humidity and little wind, would work only to the advantage of her allies, and successfully repulsed the amazonesses with the minimum military and magical force. It is said that her words to the College of Sorcery's ruling council following the repulsion, that "it is not only sorcery one ought to study," prompted self-reflection in the College of Sorcery at the time and hastened improvements to its curriculum. And right now, this young girl genius whose ability is several orders of magnitude greater than that of the other sorcerers in the College of Sorcery and who serves as the lynchpin of Lescatié's magical strategy, is... "—Delicious!♪" Grinning broadly, her mouth filled with the fresh cream of the "Sacred Parfait," which vies for the title of most delicious in the entire nation. The place is the cafe Loumède in the neighborhood of the great cathedral, known as a favorite of the church's female soldiers. It's a shop she's fond of visiting when there's no work for her at the College of Sorcery and she's able to make some free time. The "Sacred Parfait" she is now scooping into her mouth is one of the cafe's specialties, known for the refreshing aroma of herbs it leaves in the mouth, the fine flavor of the white chocolate layered as a sauce over the herb ice cream, and the crisp texture of its maize flakes. Naturally, it is one of Mimiru's favorite dishes. Mimiru worked her spoon with a complacent smile on her face, as if she had not a care in the world. She shoveled the pale-blue solid of the mint ice cream, its color mixing the blue that stood for political astuteness with the white that stood for moral rectitude, into her mouth, quickly followed it with a scoop of the baked corn sweets, and took a bite. That alone was enough to put a look of warm relief on her face and send a little shiver of delight through her body. No human could remain unmoved by such a delicious flavor. On that point, Mimiru shared the same feelings as ordinary people. As Mimiru was bringing the umpteenth scoop of cream to her mouth, a heavy, damp sound like a tree collapsing resounded in the main street. She did not so much as glance in that direction, and this time took a scoop of the herb ice cream. Even without checking, she was well aware what made that sound on this street, and at this hour. "...Should I invite Ms. Sasha again? I doubt it would do any good..." Mimiru muttered to herself in a manner unbecoming her years, while across the street a horse-drawn carriage gaudily adorned with ornaments patterned after myths that the church taught to children clattered past. Probably someone highly-placed in the church had sent a messenger to Sasha Folmoon, who was Mimiru's own senior. Or perhaps they had gone themselves. As if that would make any difference. After all, she — Mimiru's illustrious predecessor — had something to protect. Something she wanted to protect. Now that she had made up her mind, it would probably me more difficult to change her mind than to freely manipulate the Egnati Stone, which stood in the center of the city and which legend had it could only be moved when the fate of the world approached a turning point. You must have something better to do than waste precious time on such things, she caught herself thinking. Ensuring employment for the poor and improving the labor environment, for example. Or correcting income disparity... Having thought thus far, realized that such a thing was absolutely impossible in this country as things stood, and couldn't help letting slip a sigh. It was absurd to expect that much here. Everyone was wrapped up in defending their own station, and forgetting to act as a people. The power to correct that was not in this country. By all rights, someone ought to take the lead and manage things, but...? "...Oh, honestly." Having ended up depressing herself, Mimiru shook her head from side to side to clear it. She tended to get lost in thought whenever she was on her own. She had a plan, in a sense, but it had only gone as far as a proposal. And she was well aware that it was likely to be received not with a storm of praise, but with a wave of scorn. At the age of twelve she understood that often, no matter how justified she was, the mere fact of her youth was enough to cut down her power to persuade and make opposition easy to stir up. The more she thought, the more Mimiru was forced to accept that Lescatié was at an impasse. It was at an impasse, and everyone was turning a blind eye. The taxes taken at every opportunity to support the sunny society of nobles and clergy, which boasted the second most advanced systems of military preparation and education in all the nations of the church; the destitution of the poor classes, who spent their days scrimping and saving; other paths blocked by the coercive forces of the Chief God's creed, the church, and the state, which forced people to act out "desirable" roles and to assimilate themselves with the parts they played (as she thought this, Mimiru understood that she herself was such a person). She had overheard her father and mother discussing a rumor than resistance organizations were being formed. Perhaps she might end up having to suppress them under the label of monster suppression. Or else the "shadow corps" in the service of the state might "restore them to the path of righteousness." Either way, she couldn't see anything particularly good in store, at least as far as her own feelings were concerned. ...Well, I know I'm in no position to speak, given that I receive support from such people myself, but... Mimiru shook her head again with a disgusted sigh that seemed to leech the flavor out of the first-class parfait she had been eating. Such grim imaginings always depressed her. Why did such dark thoughts have to come to her in her long-awaited break time? The carriage a moment before was the cause — they might be the ruling class that shaped the nation's present predicament, but she couldn't possibly speak ill of the upper echelons of the church. Any objection to them would be treated as practically a rebellion against God. The reality of it was religious fanatics and the villains who inhabited Pandemonium... How did it make her feel to not only know a bit of those schemes, but to have understood them — no, to have been able to understand them? That nervous irritation, unbecoming her age, was turning even the refreshing flavor of mint bitter. Even though she had gone to all the trouble of finding time to visit her favorite cafe and eat her favorite treat, she couldn't help spoiling her own fun. But then, if someone had asked her what was wrong, she couldn't have said that anything really was. The present state of things certainly wasn't her fault, and the ruling class had their own reasons for what they did. Even if she thought up a plan and made a proposal, she wouldn't be able to change anything. And in the first place, her reason for making such a proposal would be the irritation that had spoiled her wonderful sweets time. It would just be her throwing a tantrum. Such things might be all very well for everyday situations, but there were limits... Or so she told herself, but it was hard to say if she was really getting through. "Speaking of which, I haven't been to see big brother yet, have I?" The aftertaste of mint, which had now almost entirely vanished, caused her mind to drift to thoughts of a soldier serving in Lescatié's vaunted Order of Holy Knights. Thoughts of the only person that she, an only child, called "big brother" — Elt. She didn't know his surname. She didn't even know if he had one. As for his abilities as a soldier, Mimiru doubted whether he would be able to match an officer-class monster, to say nothing of those that possessed real power. He was that sort of youth. And yet he treated Mimiru, who was powerful enough to strike down officer-class monsters in a single blow and to fight even truly powerful monsters to a standstill, just like a child. There was something about that she just couldn't stomach, so against her better judgment she'd snapped back at him. But in response Elt had just chided her without even getting angry. That had exasperated Mimiru, and she had ended up leaving him with a sharp parting remark and walking out... although she had since become a regular at the Order's barracks. But she wouldn't be going today. It wasn't as if she really needed to, but... not going felt somehow unsatisfying. After a little thought, Mimiru paid her bill and was soon racing along the stone-paved street towards the barracks. "Look — Lady Mimiru is eating a parfait alone." "You're right. I suppose her ladyship keeps to herself..." All the while trying not to pay attention to the end of the callous comments she could hear from her surroundings. ◊ ♦ ◊ ♦ ◊ It was several years ago that she'd become acquainted with Elt. She hadn't even known his name back then. She'd just happened to overhear some grumbling about Lescatié's poster-hero. "As I thought, separating Wilmarina from that brat was the right decision." "Yes, it seems so. We couldn't possibly leave a child of Lady Wilmarina's exceptional ability in company with some nobody from who-knows-where. Her being a 'Hero' will serve the whole country, after all." "Precisely. A mere servant trying to be my daughter's companion — the nerve of that boy!" Wilmarina Norscrim. One of the heroes who served in Lescatié's Order of Holy Knights, and talented woman who boasted ability unequaled in the nation at the tender age of seventeen. Mimiru and the others couldn't hold a candle to her military exploits, and the people's love for her was such that there were some who became overcome with emotion and burst into tears at the mere touch of her hand. It was also common knowledge that she never missed her daily training in order to polish her abilities, and it was an everyday thing in this country for mothers to admonish their children by saying "Don't you know Lady Wilmarina is working hard every day to drive the monsters from this world?" Wilmarina was such an ideal hero that even Mimiru, who had been recruited to join her in suppression operations at times, felt overawed in her presence. And she had had to be forcibly separated from a servant boy...? Wilmarina's father, who was a high-ranking priest, and another man, a leader of the Order of Holy Knights. Their conversation went round and round in Mimiru's head — she had been on her way to return materials she had been using for a treatise to the Order court. Now that she thought back, it wasn't a complete surprise. It was true that a faint tinge of unease existed in the determined expression that Wilmarina the hero sometimes wore. That unease always vanished soon after, so completely that Mimiru had thought it was all in her head, but... It was also true that a different interest had sprung up inside Mimiru. An interest in something that should by all rights have more excited girls a year or two older than she — a love story. What sort of person was this boy who had captured the heart of Wilmarina the hero and wouldn't let it go? Mimiru had tried to picture him as she turned the first page of a romance novel and absentmindedly perused the letters on it. During her break time, all by herself, of course. But she just hadn't been able to picture a man to suit Wilmarina, who was practically a national symbol. She could picture a servant — his position — because her own parents had originally been such, but when she tried to imagine that beside the hero... She just couldn't see it. "...Oh, finished already." The romance novel Mimiru had just finished reading was another story of two lovers burning with passion separated due to the difference in their social standing. Still, she certainly wasn't in love herself, so it only registered as somebody else's problem. Using a stepladder to return the book to its high shelf and starting on her way back to the College of Sorcery, Mimiru decided to forget the subject for the time being. After all, it was just a silly story in any case, and she didn't particularly enjoy spreading rumors — especially when it was gossip that could only be a danger to her. It was several days later that Mimiru's thoughts returned to the subject, after witnessing a clear change in the expression of Wilmarina's eyes when she saw the register of the names of those newly admitted to the Order of Holy Knights. After that Mimiru had reviewed the histories of all the newly-recruited soldiers, and had finally learned the name of the one who even now held captive the heart of the hero the nation loved and respected. Elt. If a person's status wasn't high enough to merit a surname, even belonging to the Order of Holy Knights was not sufficient to ensure they would be granted one. That would only happen once they had risen to a post of sufficient rank, or else once they had established a suitable military record. And as Mimiru had thought, he had no surname. Surely it was only natural that he had been considered unsuitable for a hero who served as a symbol of the nation, and whose father was a high-ranking priest. "An idol must be set on a suitable podium and coated in a hard lacquer." Mimiru recalled having once read such a line. What sort of person must he be, to seek the soul inside the lacquered idol? Mimiru, who watched the investiture of the new Holy Knights by the bishop from her seat in the front row, had ascertained his personal appearance. A youth quietly but clearly singled out by his blazing red hair. He wasn't exactly what you would call handsome, but there was something attractive about his intrepid countenance. Training was easily perceptible in his taut body, even through the magnificent ceremonial armor emblazoned with the arms of Lescatié. Rather than joy at having succeeded in becoming a knight, his eyes showed a strong determination... or so it seemed to Mimiru. With further training, he would probably become a fine knight. ...But... He would likely never be able to walk at Wilmarina's side. A person of ordinary ability who works hard can beat a genius who doesn't, but Wilmarina and those around her were, without exception, geniuses who worked hard. And would the prelates let someone like him near the hero the nation idolized? No. Even if they were to meet by chance, their positions as "hero" and "soldier" would prevent them from meeting as childhood friends. Mimiru secretly sympathized with Wilmarina. Separated couple might transcend time and fate to reunite in old fairy tales, but reality was less kind to dreams, and the wall that time and circumstance had raised between the two was now practically a sheer cliff. Still, there was perhaps one chance in ten thousand, or a hundred million, that they might one day meet as equals. But even if that did happen, how long would it take...? It would probably be impossible while Wilmarina's father was alive, to begin with. Still, it was certain that Mimiru, even as she thought such things, had developed an interest in what sort of person this "Elt" would turn out to be. But then an event occurred that caused Mimiru to revise her estimation of Elt for the worse. It was a training exercise that took the form of mock combat among the newly-enlisted knights. Elt's marks there were among the lowest in the entire Order. It was true that Mimiru hadn't actually witnessed the exercise — at the time she had been unable to attend due to her work for the College of Sorcery — but she had overestimated his ability because he was a man with whom a hero had fallen in love, and this result was enough to make her emotions take a turn towards despair. So, the nation's hero has her heart set on such a weak man... With that thought, she became somehow unable to forgive herself for having once taken an interest in such an person, and at the same time unable to forgive this man, who even now brazenly kept his place in the hero's heart, beyond his ability or position, for existing. That concealed irritation had probably been what caused her to pay a visit to the barracks. She marched rudely into the barracks, pushed her way through a crowd of people who smelled of sweat — some of them noticed Mimiru and made way for her of their own accord — and came to a stop, striking a daunting pose, in front of Elt, who, as she had expected, was performing routine maintenance on his weapons. The first words she had spit at Elt, matching his gaze — he had paused in the work he was doing on the sword in his hand — were still a topic of conversation among his fellow knights. "Hey, you've got some nerve joining the Order of Holy Knights with skills like yours. I don't know why you joined up, but I don't think you're cut out to be a knight." Actually, what they discussed was more likely Elt's reply. While the dumbfounded knights of the Order looked on, he kept his gaze fixed on Mimiru and quietly opened his mouth. "...Ah, umm... Little Mimiru, isn't it? Don't you think it's rude to say something like that to a person you've just met?" Perhaps those words struck a nerve, but in any case Mimiru had gone red in the face and run out of the barrack without saying anything more. Being spoken to in the tone of one admonishing a child, including being called "little," was a fresh experience to her and it felt extremely — how to describe it? — embarrassing. Having ended up, to her own surprise, fleeing under enemy fire, Mimiru swore an oath to herself as she made her hurried way home. She swore that the next time they met, she would not flee. And that she would show him just how right and amazing she was, and force him to correct his estimation of her. This was the pair's first contact. Since then, Mimiru telling Elt to quit the knights and working hard to show off her own magical ability, and Elt for his part lightly brushing off her attempts had become an almost daily routine. As an aside, although one would certainly come to Elt's name on the list of marks for that training exercise faster if one counted from the bottom, that was because it had been a condition of the exercise that each combatant use a weapon other than their specialty. I will add that when Elt was using his preferred weapon, his ability was among the best of the newly-enlisted knights. Children are more sensitive to the subtleties of others' feelings than their elders suppose. ◊ ♦ ◊ ♦ ◊