Chapter Text
“To my beloved Toa,” said Tetsukawa Kiyo.
Pain shot through her as she did, and she gritted her teeth, trying not to cry out. She focused on the orange glow of her CHARM’s core, the face of the magical computer printed with a single word: Recording.
Steady booms sounded from outside the shelter, the solid concrete that surrounded her quaking slightly with each and every one of the sounds. The Huge were on the move. Perhaps they were searching for any prey that had slipped through their clutches—like Kiyo had, for the time being. Or perhaps they were headed to new hunting grounds.
Kiyo found that other possibility far more disquieting than the chance that the Huge might break into the shelter that she’d shut herself in. If that were to happen, they would just be finishing what they had started.
“I so dearly wished to see you grow into a Lily of Yurigaoka who would bring succor to all Kamakura Prefecture, but it seems that wish is one that shall go ungranted,” Kiyo continued.
Yurigaoka Girls’ Academy was close. Just a stroll away, if your gait was that of a monster over twenty meters tall. They would have received warning by now, but could they withstand an attack by the Huge this fierce? Kiyo knew that most of Yurigaoka’s experienced Lilies were off fighting to take Makuhari back from the Huge that had overrun that place, far to the east, in Chiba. And while those Yurigaoka Lilies who hadn’t gone to Makuhari had accomplished a miracle at Odaiba only a few months ago, it seemed foolhardy to count on more than one miracle.
Kiyo didn’t expect Yurigaoka Girls’ Academy to fall to the Huge so easily. But she had expected the same thing of Zushi International Girls’ School.
Even as she tried to keep steady pressure on her wound with her free hand, Kiyo felt blood soaking through the bandage she’d wrapped around her waist. The shelter’s first aid kit hadn’t been designed to treat injuries like the one she had taken. She knew that if she didn’t get medical attention, she wouldn’t last much longer.
“...I wonder, when you cross swords with the Huge, will that timid nature of yours cause you to take fright?” she said into the recorder.
Lifting her head, Kiyo looked around. The shelter could fit quite a few people, but aside from her, it was empty. She wasn’t surprised that none of the Lilies had hidden here; Zushi’s Lilies did not run from battle, no matter how unforgiving the odds. But the Garden had civilians as well. Ones who, unlike Kiyo, hadn’t been Lilies when they were younger. Ones who couldn’t take up a CHARM and try to fight. Their only choices were to run, or to die.
Maybe all of those people had ended up in one of the other shelters. Kiyo hoped that was the case. She didn’t want to dwell upon the alternative.
Kiyo refocused her thoughts upon Toa. Her dear younger sister, who she was leaving a message for, in case the two of them never saw each other again. When she thought of Toa, she still saw a little girl, far younger than any Lily, shaking in fright even as she faced a training dummy made to resemble a small-type Huge. But despite her terror, that girl had clutched her training CHARM firmly in her hands. She’d fought to overcome her fear, and set herself upon the path to protecting others someday, as a Lily.
Toa was on the cusp of being a real Lily now. One from the legendary Yurigaoka Girls’ Academy, no less. Kiyo knew that her sister was no longer the timid little girl she saw in her memories.
But Kiyo also knew that fear never truly left you. For it was gnawing at her at this very moment. Would this be the place where she, Tetsukawa Kiyo, died? Would it be a quick death, or a slow and painful one? It was all she could do to disregard those thoughts and continue speaking. With all her heart, she tried to fill her voice with the bravery and confidence that she couldn’t truly feel. For Toa’s sake.
“Have courage, because when you wield the blade that I have entrusted to you, forever shall your sister be by your side,” she said, in conclusion.
Kiyo pressed a finger to her CHARM’s core, staining the glowing orange orb with a smear of her own blood. The word “Recording” faded away, leaving the face of the orb featureless. Leaving her finger in place, she tried the comms one last time. “This is Tetsukawa Kiyo, of Zushi International,” she said. “Can anyone hear me?”
Just like the last time, there was only faint static.
She had no choice but to accept what the silence told her. Yurigaoka wasn’t coming. St. Mercurius wasn’t coming. Kiyo, and everyone else still trapped in Zushi International Girls’ School, were on their own.
Kiyo stabbed her CHARM, point downward, into the concrete below. She lifted herself to her feet, unable to hold back a groan of pain as she did. Blood dripped onto the ground from the soaked-through bandage around her waist.
There was one choice left to her, and that was the manner of her death. Bleeding out in a shelter as she awaited rescue that might never come was not the way a Zushi Lily should die. And while Kiyo was, technically, not a Lily any longer, she could still hold a CHARM. She could still fight.
So, as futile as it was, she would do that. She would do as she knew all the brave Lilies she had taught here at Zushi had also done. She would bring no shame to Zushi International Girls’ School, even if all it would ever be from now on was the name of a Garden that had once been, etched into history.
Making her way over to the shelter door, Kiyo pressed the button to open it.
She hoped, with all her heart, that Toa would live a longer life than she had. But Kiyo knew that Lilies—and, it seemed, former Lilies too—could not expect this world to show them mercy.
Whether it was for decades, or years, or a far shorter time than that, she would wait for Toa.
And together, they would bloom as flowers in the Garden of Souls.
Hasebe Touka always found it embarrassing how ornate Álfheimr’s legion room was.
The table she was sitting at was made out of wood from a tree that had gone extinct before she was born. Her feet sank deep into the plush rug below them. Everywhere she looked, there was wrought gold adorning something or other. And from the room’s walls, hand-painted portraits of all thirteen members of the legion gazed serenely at her. Touka had resisted having a portrait painted of her for as long as she could, but when Chihana had suggested that the two of them sit for one together, she’d given in.
She couldn’t deny that she liked to look at the painting of her and Chihana. It was embarrassing… but it was also a comfort that there was a moment, frozen in time, in which she and Chihana would always be together.
Still, Touka would have liked it better if that eternal moment had happened before all of this, before Álfheimr had been given its name. Back when the two of them were young and untested Lilies on a reserve team, camping together in Koshu, full of hope for the future. Misuzu watching over them with that gentle smile of hers. Yuyu, and Mai, still able to have smiles of their own.
Álfheimr was a legendary legion—the strongest in the whole world, some people said. The battles that they had fought and won had saved countless people’s lives. But Touka would have traded it all to see her friends smile again.
The sound of the door opening brought an end to her reverie. Touka turned her head to see that Takegoshi Chihana, the captain of Legion Álfheimr, had arrived.
“Sorry I’m late,” said the red-haired girl, raising her hand in an apologetic wave. “You know how much of my time the student council takes.” Dropping into the chair at the head of the table, Chihana let out a sigh. “Maybe it was a mistake, running for Sigrún when I was already captain of a legion. But I won’t have to divide my time much longer, will I?”
Chihana gave the other members of Álfheimr a wry smile. Most of them smiled back—after having fought side by side for the better part of a year, they were good friends. When she saw that, Touka forced herself to smile as well.
“Chihana, where’s Soraha?” asked Banshoya Ena. Now that Chihana had arrived, only one member of Álfheimr was conspicuously missing from the legion meeting. “I thought she was with you.”
Chihana blinked. “Soraha? She’s giving an interview to a civilian. A girl from a school in Tokyo, I think. The Garden asked her to do it,” she said. “Didn’t she tell any of you?” When the others shook their heads, the captain of the legion sighed again. “That’s just like her to do. Anyway, we’ll hold the meeting without her. Ena, if we make any important decisions, will you fill Soraha in on them later?”
Ena nodded. “It would be my pleasure, Captain,” she replied with a smile.
Chihana gave an appreciative nod in return, then rested her arms on the table as she leaned forward. “Let’s get down to business,” she said, then paused. Dread started to build inside Touka as she awaited the next words that would come from Chihana’s mouth. She already knew what they would be.
“It’s time for all of us in Legion Álfheimr to go our separate ways.”
“But why?!” blurted Niinomi Nodoka, a look of distress on her face. “Hijiri’s told me that the rest of you feel that way, but I don’t understand! I want us to keep fighting together!” You’re not the only one who doesn’t understand, Touka wanted to say, but when she gazed at Chihana’s grave expression, her mouth refused to open.
“That’s not surprising, when you weren’t there,” Chihana said. “The Odaiba Counteroffensive changed us all.”
It didn’t change me.
Taniguchi Hijiri, who was sitting next to Nodoka, reached out and laid her hand gently on one of the other girl’s balled fists. “It was a fight for survival unlike any other,” she said to her roommate. “We evacuated all the civilians on Odaiba before we started our counterattack, but it was… a kind of reflex. Protecting people is what we Lilies do. If someone else lived because we died, then at least our deaths would have some meaning.” She closed her eyes. “But that was the furthest thing from my mind at the time. All I could think, as I fought, was that I didn’t want to die.”
The other Lilies sitting at the table nodded in agreement and understanding, except for a few of them. Nodoka. Hayashi Kaoru, Chihana's Schutzengel. And Touka herself.
“And that made us realize that Álfheimr has always been that way,” Chihana continued from where Hijiri had left off. “Ever since the Huge attacked while we were training in Koshu, we’ve only ever fought to survive. Not because we chose to fight together. Not because we want to save people.” She shook her head. “It isn’t right.”
“But we’ve won every battle we’ve fought, haven’t we?” Kaoru asked.
“We have. Even the Counteroffensive,” admitted Chihana. “But that was a miracle. We fought hard, but we were lucky. And I don’t want to keep doing this until our luck runs out.”
Silence filled the air, and Touka cast her gaze around the legion room. Nodoka had turned to Hijiri and buried her face in the other girl’s chest as Hijiri hugged her, stroking her hair gently. Kaoru was looking at Chihana, her Schild, with concern written on her face. The others were resolute. Just looking at them was enough to tell Touka that they were all of one mind.
She had to say something.
“It isn’t right for Álfheimr to end like this, either,” Touka said.
The Lilies’ faces turned to her, and for a moment, Touka wished she hadn’t said anything at all. She struggled to find the right words. Anything that would keep Álfheimr together for just a little longer. Anything that would let her stay by Chihana’s side.
“We… Álfheimr… we’re a legendary legion. Some say we’re the strongest in the world,” she said. “If we disband right here and now, won’t we cause other Lilies all over the world to lose heart? This isn’t about just us anymore.”
Chihana nodded. “I see what you mean, Touka,” she said. “Our legion should end with a final glorious victory. Something to inspire those who will come after us.”
No. That isn’t what I meant.
I want us to stay together forever. I want to be with you forever, Chihana!
Despite the words that felt as if they were trying to rip her way free of her heart, Touka couldn’t bring herself to say anything more.
“Wasn’t that the Odaiba Counteroffensive?” Akashi Manaka asked Chihana.
Chihana shook her head. “Odaiba was certainly glorious, but Álfheimr didn’t fight as a legion there,” she said. “Besides, not all of us were there. Nodoka and Kaoru-nee weren’t. Álfheimr’s final battle should be fought as one legion, with all of us who were there when it began.” She paused. “Well, aside from—“ Chihana started, then fell silent, thinking better of it.
Touka knew what the legion’s captain had been about to say. Everyone did. She cast a glance a Yuyu, who had abruptly turned in her chair, hiding her face from the others. Mai was also looking at Yuyu, clearly worried for her.
Misuzu.
If there was truth to what Hijiri and Chihana had said, maybe Misuzu was the only one of them who hadn’t just been fighting to survive, all this time. Maybe because she had died back then, others had lived. Maybe she had been the only proper Lily among them. But looking at Yuyu, at the other Lily’s shoulders shaking, Touka couldn’t truly believe that.
“It’s a shame Yurigaoka didn’t send us to respond to the attack on Zushi,” Aoki Kaho said, oblivious to the mood in the room. “That would have made for a worthy final battle.”
Watanabe Akane’s jaw dropped in shock at Kaho’s words. “That’s nonsense, Kaho! You saw the estimate of the enemy strength, didn’t you? There’s a reason those Huge were able to crush even a strong Garden like Zushi!” she exclaimed, raising her voice. “Even with support from other legions, we’d have died!”
“So what?” Yuyu spat abruptly, and an awkward silence filled the air.
After some moments, Chihana stood up and clapped her hands, forcing a smile. “Anyway! I think we’ve all agreed that before we say goodbye to Álfheimr, we ought to fight together one last time,” she said. “So why don’t we, uh, just wait for that to happen and adjourn the meeting here? I’ve been in meetings all day. I could really use some fresh air!”
There were some nods, none of them particularly enthusiastic. “Yeah, sounds great!” Mai chirped, managing to make it sound as if she meant it. The green-haired girl could always show more cheer than anyone else Touka had ever met, though how much of it was real—that she didn’t know. And perhaps she never would.
Standing up from their chairs, the members of Álfheimr filtered out of the meeting room. Touka stayed seated, closing her eyes. She suddenly felt exhausted.
“Touka, are you all right?” asked a familiar voice. As a warm hand rested upon her shoulder, Touka opened her eyes and turned her head to see Chihana there, standing over her. She smiled and nodded, rising from her chair, than casting her gaze over the empty legion room.
“I just can’t help but remember what our legion meetings were like in the past,” Touka said. “Everyone smiling. Everyone laughing. That’s never going to happen again, is it?”
It was a white lie. Touka couldn’t remember Yuyu ever having smiled during their legion meetings, or at any other time. Not since Koshu.
“Who knows? There might be a miracle,” Chihana said with a somber chuckle.
“There might be,” Touka agreed, then let out a sigh. “Some fresh air sounds like it would be lovely. Can I join you outside?”
“Of course,” said Chihana.
It was only a short distance to one of Yurigaoka’s many verandas. The two Lilies exited the school building to find themselves on a smooth pathway beneath a roof, held up by pillars on the side opposite the wall of the building. Beyond the pillars, several beds of flowers were laid out amidst the grass, the flowers inside them in full bloom. It was the height of spring, and the greenery wouldn’t let them forget it.
Chihana headed in the direction of the flowerbeds. She stopped just short of stepping out onto the grass, simply gazing at it from a distance. Touka joined her, looking out at the flowers. They reminded her of Soraha, who loved flowers so much.
Soraha would be able to name all of these. She could tell us all there is to know about them. But me… what can I do? What good am I? I can’t even keep Álfheimr together.
“Have you decided what you’ll do next, Chihana? After Álfheimr?” Touka asked.
“I can’t say I have,” replied Chihana, looking forward with a resigned smile. “I suppose I’ll have to join another legion. I don’t think freelancing is my style. Herfjötur would love to have me, I’m sure.”
“If… if you join another legion, can I join it with you, Chihana?” asked Touka. She wished that Álfheimr could stay as it was. Desperately. But as long as she was by Chihana’s side, she could keep going. She would be all right.
“Of course, Touka,” Chihana said, so quickly that Touka wondered if she’d even given it any thought at all.
Impulsively, she reached out and wrapped an arm around Chihana’s waist, pulling the other Lily to her side. Chihana wordlessly leaned her head on Touka’s shoulder. And for a moment, the world felt like it might stay like that forever.
“Will you get your hand out of your pocket?!” Yamanashi Hibari shouted.
Mitsui Ko twirled around, the blade she was holding in one hand slicing the small-type that was leaping at her in two with a movement that looked almost accidental. Rather than spraying blue blood, the dead monster simply dissolved into pixels and faded away, since they were in a virtual-reality combat simulator. Ko smiled at Hibari, her other hand tucked firmly in her pocket.
“It’s the way I feel most comfortable fighting, Hibari-chan. You should know that by now,” Ko said. “Ask anyone else in Svanhvít if they think I fight poorly because of it.”
Hibari didn’t need to ask the other Lilies fighting around her—not that the combat simulator was the place to do it. She already knew that if she did ask, some of them would laugh and tell her that Ko fought better with her hand in her pocket. Stricter Lilies, not that there were many in this legion besides Hibari herself, would tell her to respect her elders. Others would just smile gently and advise her to let Ko be herself.
Her own Schutzengel might take her side, but Hibari wasn’t confident that she would. The older members of Legion Svanhvít had been fast friends for too long.
Sometimes, it made her feel lonely... but right then, she was too annoyed to be lonely.
“Regardless, Ko-sama, there’s absolutely no tactical advantage to—” Hibari started to retort.
Ko whirled around and dashed over to an approaching trio of mid-types, slicing them apart in the blink of an eye with her one-handed grip on her CHARM. “Tactics, tactics, tactics!” she shouted back at Hibari, her voice filled with irreverent cheer. “That’s all you ever think about, Hibari-chan. If you’re so concerned about tactics, why don’t you lecture Nagi about them, not me?”
Hibari looked around. Through the trees, she spotted Tamura Nagi in the distance, far ahead of the front line and dueling the gigant-type entirely by herself; as she watched, the older Lily barely avoided being crushed flat by a massive fist. Hibari’s blood ran cold, and her instincts took over. She started dashing toward Nagi as fast as she could, hoping she’d make it in time to save the other girl’s life. Moments later, as she remembered they were in a simulation, she slowed and stopped.
She turned back towards Ko. “If this were a real battle, would you have stood here chatting with me instead of going to rescue Nagi-sama?” she asked.
Ko pulled her hand out of her pocket, but only in order to lift it to her chin as she raised her eyes in thought. “Maybe,” she said after a few moments. “Nagi can take care of herself, y’know?”
Hibari sighed deeply as a small-type, one that she’d noticed approaching her a good fifteen seconds ago, leapt at her with a screech. She didn’t lift her CHARM to intercept it; after what had happened a moment before, she wanted to be sure that she could, in fact, defy her instincts.
There was no sensation of impact as the small-type collided with her—the combat simulator wasn’t capable of that—but her vision turned red, notifying her that she’d have been injured if this were a real battle. Ko, as she chopped up several virtual small-types that were trying to ambush her without so much as turning towards them, watched Hibari with a bemused look on her face.
Hibari made the complex hand gesture that brought up the combat simulator’s menu, then hit the button to end the simulation. The sparse forest and the Huge that surrounded them shimmered away into nothingness, leaving the Lilies standing in a large, featureless room.
“Hey!” Nagi yelled in the distance. “Why’d you turn it off? I was having fun!” Her long, golden hair streaming behind her, the older Lily charged at Hibari as if she were one of their foes, swinging her CHARM about wildly. She’d gotten close enough for Hibari to notice the strange glow in her eyes when, without warning, she threw the Gungnir at Hibari.
Nagi’s aim was off. The blade embedded itself in the tile floor near one of Hibari’s feet, too close for comfort. Hibari had made no attempt to avoid it, but this time, it hadn’t been on purpose. She’d simply been caught off guard.
“Nagi!” Yanagisawa Ayako shouted sternly.
Nagi blinked, the glow fading from her eyes. A look of confusion dawned on her face. “I-I’m sorry, Hibari,” she said in a panicked voice. “I wasn’t trying to hit you. Just give you a scare. Honest! I… I was excited, that’s all.”
Wordlessly, Ayako walked up to Hibari and hugged her from behind. Hibari looked around at the rest of Legion Svanhvít. She couldn’t see Ayako’s face, but none of the other Lilies, aside from Nagi herself, seemed particularly alarmed that Nagi had thrown a CHARM at her.
This time, it did make her feel lonely.
“What were we supposed to be doing in here?” Hibari asked the others.
“Training!” Nagi chirped, looking immensely relieved that Hibari had moved to another topic of conversation.
“Training what?” Hibari asked. The others exchanged silent glances, saying nothing. Even when Hibari pulled the Neunwelt bullet from her pocket and started tossing it into the air, then catching it again and again, none of them made a sound. Embarrassment was written on Ko and Botan’s faces. Hibari was pretty certain they knew the answer, but didn’t want to be the ones to say it.
“We were supposed to be practicing the Neunwelt Tactic,” Hibari said. “We were supposed to do a Neunwelt together and kill the gigant with it.” The others nodded sheepishly, except for Nagi, who blinked as if she were hearing this for the very first time.
“Nagi-sama, if one of us had made a Neunwelt pass to you, would you have caught it?” Hibari asked. Actually, she suspected that at the distance Nagi had been from the rest of them, the best Lily in the world couldn’t have made a pass to her. Not successfully. But that wasn’t her point.
“U-Um,” Nagi said. “Maybe if you shouted my name first?” She smiled sunnily, but even so, she had the look of a cornered mouse in her eyes.
“Nagi-sama,” Hibari continued, glaring at the older Lily. “What were you trying to accomplish by fighting the gigant? We took the ring cartridge system off your CHARM back when Yurigaoka banned them. You couldn’t have done more than scratch it.”
“I… I was distracting it,” Nagi mumbled. “So that it wouldn’t come after one of you and catch you off guard.”
“Catch us off guard?” Hibari said sharply. “When every step that a real gigant-type takes makes the earth quake beneath our feet?” As she locked eyes with Hibari, Nagi shuffled backwards on her feet, looking as if she were genuinely intimidated.
Ko stepped forward. “That’s enough, Hibari,” she said, her tone of voice cool and firm, with none of the cheekiness that had been oozing from her during the battle. “Nagi knows that she made a mistake. You don’t need to keep rubbing it in.” Nagi nodded emphatically, several times, at Ko’s words. Hibari made no effort to conceal the skepticism that she was feeling, but she fell silent.
“Why don’t we all take a break and cool our heads?” Izumi Botan proposed, her blonde ringlets swinging around her head as she marched between Hibari and Nagi, then placed her hands on her hips. “We can have a review meeting some other day... if you deem it necessary, Commander Hibari.” Her inflection made the title sound tremendously insincere.
“That’s a great idea!” Nagi chirped. With Botan blocking the way, Hibari couldn’t see Nagi any longer, but she could imagine the sweet, innocent smile on the girl’s face—as if she hadn’t messed up their training session; as if she hadn’t flung a CHARM at Hibari with, at best, no heed to the consequences. “Everyone’s dismissed for the rest of the day. That’s my order as captain of the legion!”
Ko nodded and started strolling leisurely towards the exit of the training room, as did most of the other Lilies in the legion. Nagi circled around Hibari gingerly, keeping her distance, then disappeared in the direction of the door at a near-sprint once she had a clear path to it. She’d left her Gungnir behind, still stuck in the floor.
Botan stood right where she was, eyeing Hibari with displeasure for a moment longer, than yanked Nagi’s CHARM out of the floor and made for the door with it in hand. In a short while, only Hibari and Ayako were left in the room.
Throughout the conversation, Ayako had never stopped holding Hibari to her, her arms wrapped gently around her Schild’s waist. Hibari allowed her knees to sag, and Ayako held her upright for a moment before sinking down to the floor with her. Hibari closed her eyes with a deep sigh, leaning against Ayako as the other girl lifted a hand and stroked her head softly.
“Onee-sama,” Hibari said, able to hear the exhaustion in her own voice. “Why is Nagi-sama the captain?”
“Because that’s the promise we made,” Ayako said gently. “Ko, Nagi, and I. You know what a promise like that meant in the past, don’t you, Hibari?”
Twelve short months ago, there had been no Neunwelt Tactic. Back then, each and every one of the Lilies who were currently second years—Ko, Nagi and Ayako among them—had been able to look around herself here at Yurigaoka and know that by the next spring, many of the Lilies she saw would be sleeping forever in the graveyard atop the hill, having sacrificed her life to protect others from the Huge.
Twelve short months ago, the only way to defeat gigant-types had been ring cartridge systems, which allowed a Lily to make a single powerful attack and then left her utterly defenseless. CHARMs equipped with them were called “B-type armaments.” The B stood for “Berserk.” Legend had it that the berserkers of old had been invulnerable while in their battle trances; when it came to Lilies, the use of the word seemed like a cruel irony.
Twelve short months ago, when a Lily took up a B-type armament, it had been a promise to die, if the gods of war willed it. And when she formed a legion with other Lilies, it had been a promise to die together.
“I just don’t want any of you to get hurt,” Hibari said. “Not now that we have the Neunwelt.” She shifted, turning her head so that she could bury her face in Ayako’s chest.
Ayako slid her arms around Hibari’s waist again as she leaned down, pressing her lips to the top of her Schild’s head for a brief moment. “I know, Hibari,” she said softly. “And I promise you that they’ll come to understand. So just keep trying. Can you do that for me?”
Hibari said nothing. She tried to lose herself in Ayako’s warmth. She tried to escape the feeling that nothing had changed since a year ago. That Ayako, and the others who Ayako loved, and all the Lilies in the world, were all living on borrowed time.
She couldn’t make it happen.
But she kept trying.
Amano Soraha looked into the sparkling blue eyes of the girl before her, seated across the table from her in the small meeting room they were in. She knew, without needing to ask, that the girl didn’t have the aptitude to be a Lily. Otherwise, she would have been one already, and not a student at a civilian junior high school. The look in the girl’s eyes said it all.
I’d give you every drop of my magie, if I could, Soraha thought to herself.
The nation of Japan took pride in declaring that none of its people were forced to fight the Huge. Any girl who didn’t want to be a Lily or a Madec would be allowed to go to a normal school and live a normal life. That’s what the government said.
So back when Soraha had tested remarkably high for her age in a routine Skiller Value check, they had offered her a choice. They had shown her pictures of people who they claimed had died that very day, killed by the Huge. They had told her about those people’s lives up until then, and their hopes and dreams for the future, in exacting detail. They had pointed out that if Soraha had been a Lily, and had been there, she would have been able to save them.
But of course, if she still didn’t want to become a Lily, they would respect her wishes. Just as soon as they told her about a few more of today’s fatalities, to be sure that she understood the consequences of her decision.
Soraha wasn’t a monster. And because of that, she was a Lily now.
“What was your name again?” she asked the girl. “I’m sorry. The Garden told me already, but things have been so hectic lately—it just plain fell out of my head.” She smiled, despite the grim thoughts she’d been having earlier. Smiling had always come easily to Soraha.
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly expect a member of Legion Álfheimr to remember my name!” the girl exclaimed, shaking her head vigorously and making her brown pigtails fly to and fro. “But it’s very kind of you to ask. It’s Hamaguchi Kayu. You can call me Kayu, if you would like, Amano-sama!” She beamed a bright smile back at Soraha, with sentiment behind it that was undoubtedly more genuine than Soraha’s own.
“Nice to meet you, Kayu,” Soraha said. “Call me Soraha. Please.”
Kayu blinked in surprise. “O-Okay… Soraha-sama!” she said, with a moment’s hesitation, then paused. She let out a small giggle. “You know, calling you that makes me feel like I’m a Lily too,” she remarked. Soraha saw a touch of wistfulness, a touch of sadness, arise upon the girl’s face.
Before those emotions of Kayu’s could become more than a glimmer in her eyes, Soraha changed the subject. “What can I do for you today, Kayu?” she asked. “I understand that you wanted to know more about us? Legion Álfheimr.”
“That’s right,” Kayu said with a nod. “There are books about you, but I wanted to hear about Álfheimr from one of its members in her own words. I’m hoping to write my own history book someday! Um, not necessarily about you, but... maybe about you.” With an embarrassed smile, she took up her pen, preparing to take notes on the pad in front of her. “Could you tell me about how you first became a legion, Soraha-sama?” Kayu asked.
Soraha thought back to those days that seemed so long ago, even though it had been less than a year. The memories were still vivid, as bittersweet ones often were.
“Well, we started as a reserve team,” she began. “I’m sure you’re aware, Kayu, but Yurigaoka doesn’t normally send junior high school Lilies into live combat. And that means they don’t enter legions, either. Instead, in the last year of junior high, the most promising of them are organized into reserve teams so that they can learn to fight together with other people—and sometimes for other reasons, like to take part in the competitive cross-Garden evaluation for junior high school Lilies.”
“The one that Yurigaoka always wins?” Kayu asked.
“Yup, that’s the one. I’m honestly not sure why they still hold it,” Soraha said with a chuckle. “Anyway, there’s a couple of high schoolers in every reserve team too, to supervise us. So that’s what we were at the start—a bunch of Lilies in training and a few who weren’t, all thrown together by the Garden.”
“Then the Koshu Withdrawal happened,” Kayu murmured, casting her eyes down. “Um... actually, I lived in Koshu, a year ago. My friend and I got caught up in the fighting. And then a girl from Álfheimr saved us both.”
“Did she?” Soraha asked. It hadn’t been Soraha herself—she was quite sure she’d never seen Kayu before this day—and none of Álfheimr’s members made a habit of talking to one another about what had happened in Koshu. “Well, I’m glad we did some good. You know, we were just holding a training camp there when the fighting broke out.”
“But you fought to save everyone, Soraha-sama,” Kayu said brightly, smiling at her.
“Yeah. There were civilians running for their lives all over, and the Huge were coming, and Kaiseizan and the other Gardens from Koshu were nowhere in sight. So we split up to try and protect as many people as we could,” Soraha said. “Yuyu and some of the others wanted to go on the offense and stop the Huge from securing a foothold, but Kaoru—she was our captain, insofar as we had one—ordered us to fight defensively and help people evacuate.”
She had felt differently at the time, but in the end, Soraha was glad they had done that. The only reason she was a Lily was because she didn’t want to feel as if anyone had died because of her. What they had done in Koshu hadn’t spared her from that feeling, not entirely, but she wasn't sure anything could have.
“Well, um, you’re all amazing Lilies, so I don’t mean any offense to any of you… but if you hadn’t done what you had, I might not be alive today,” Kayu pointed out.
There was that much, at least.
“Yeah. I think it was the right decision. Even though—” Soraha paused, then shook her head. “Can we talk about something else? I’m sorry, it’s just… it’s painful to remember that time.” They had done the right thing. Innocent people like Kayu were alive because of them. But even so, Soraha couldn’t escape the memory of the silver-haired girl smiling and laughing together with the rest of them, before Álfheimr had become Álfheimr.
“Of course, Soraha-sama,” Kayu said, worry in her voice. “Um, so after that, you became a legion and Chihana-sama became the captain, right? And then, later, she also became the student council president.”
“That’s right,” Soraha said. It was because of what had happened to Misuzu under her watch that Kaoru had refused to stay the captain, but Soraha didn’t feel like volunteering that information to Kayu. “Also, Chihana’s a student council president—the Sigrún. Not the student council president. We’ve got three of them here at Yurigaoka.” She smiled, to soften the correction.
“Oh, that’s right. The other two are… um… the Brynhildr, I think... and the Ortlinde?” Kayu asked. She stumbled over the words, reminding Soraha of when she’d first entered Yurigaoka and had her pronunciation corrected dozens of times. Offering a single correction had been enough for Soraha; she spared the girl from her own fate.
“You got it. The Brynhildr commands Yurigaoka’s legions, the Sigrún enforces the school rules, and the Ortlinde does everything else that needs doing,” Soraha explained. Her pen dancing across the notepad, Kayu dutifully took notes.
And time slipped by.
Eventually, after they’d talked a great deal more, Kayu glanced up at the clock on the wall behind Soraha. “Oh, goodness. I can’t take up any more of your time, Soraha-sama, and I really should get back to Tokyo before it’s dark,” she exclaimed. Standing up, the girl gave her a bow. “Thank you so much for letting me interview you!” she said, a bright smile upon her face.
“It was my pleasure, Kayu,” Soraha said, smiling back at Kayu. Then, as she looked at the girl, curiosity resurfaced within her. She’d felt quite certain earlier, but she wanted to know for sure.
“This may be rude of me to ask,” Soraha said, “but your Skiller Value isn’t very high, is it?”
The smile disappeared from Kayu’s face, and she shook her head sadly. “Last time they tested me, they said it was around ten,” she said. Girls needed a Skiller Value of fifty, at the absolute minimum, to be a Lily. Twenty-five to be a Madec. There were ways to boost one’s Skiller Value, Soraha had heard, but not by an amount that would do Kayu any good.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Soraha. “But don’t give up hope, Kayu. Sometimes miracles happen.” That, at least, she could state with confidence.
Kayu smiled weakly. “I don’t think a miracle will happen for me, Soraha-sama,” she replied, “but I’m hoping my friend gets one. She’s in the Madec range right now, but she really wants to become a Lily, one here at Yurigaoka. She wants to be just like the Lily who saved us back then.”
“Is that so?” Soraha asked politely. “What’s her name? Maybe we’ll fight together some day.” Whether she was capable of being a Lily or not, it was unlikely that Kayu’s friend would even get into Yurigaoka—the Garden didn’t admit many girls at the high school level. Only ones who were as special as Soraha was. But she wasn’t going to crush anyone’s dreams today.
Kayu’s expression relaxed a little. “Her name’s Riri,” the girl replied.
Soraha surprised herself by letting out a chuckle. Riri, the Lily? It was just too amusing. So much so that as improbable as Soraha knew it was, she found herself hoping that this Riri’s wish would come true.
“Well, you tell Riri that when she comes to Yurigaoka, I’m looking forward to meeting her,” she said with a smile. “And hey... Kayu. If you become a Lily or a Madec somewhere, reach out to me. I’ll give you some tips, okay?”
If she took care of every younger Lily she could, at least Soraha could feel, in her heart, that she was doing some good.
The sands of Oiso Beach made a crisp sound beneath her feet as Tada Shiera trudged over them.
A long stretch of dusky brown, somewhat darker than that of the beaches close to Yurigaoka, spread out before her. If she turned her head and looked inland, Shiera could see Mount Fuji rising in the distance. Maybe the sand was the color that it was because Fuji’s fire had left its ashen mark upon this beach centuries ago, when it had been an active volcano.
“Why’s this place part of our defensive area?” complained a voice by her side; that of Kuma Ayane, her friend and roommate. “It’s so far away from Yurigaoka. Alchemilla’s closer to it than we are. I think even Sagami is.”
“Alchemilla still hasn’t recovered from all the Lilies they lost in the fall of Shizuoka,” Shiera pointed out. “And Sagami also has to defend the areas to the north. They’re spread thin. Since the coastal roads are still intact, we can get here more quickly.”
The girl walking ahead of them whirled around to face them, her pale pink hair whipping around her. If smiles were knives, Yatsuka Gyokuyo’s would be razor-sharp. “Would you rather be fighting over in Makuhari? I hear it’s gotten pretty vicious there,” she said teasingly to Ayane.
“If any of us were fighting in Makuhari, it would be you, Onee-sama,” Shiera retorted.
Ayane smirked back at Gyokuyo. “Yeah! We’re too you—” she began, only to find the point of Gyokuyo’s CHARM suddenly leveled at her face, a finger’s breath away. The CHARM was as long as a spear, giving the older Lily quite a bit of reach. If Ayane’s reflexes hadn’t been keen enough for her to stop in an instant, she’d have given herself a nasty cut, or worse.
“You’re never too young to be in fear of your life,” Gyokuyo said, her voice taking on a dangerous quality. Ayane narrowed her eyes, reaching for the grip of her own CHARM.
“U-Um, please don’t get angry at each other,” said a nervous voice behind them. Shiera turned to see that it came from the junior high school girl that had been shadowing them, as Lilies in training sometimes did to legions they were thinking of joining in the future. What was her name again? Miu? Something like that.
“We’re not angry,” said Gyokuyo, her spear still leveled at Ayane.
“We’re not angry,” said Ayane, her hand resting upon the grip of her CHARM.
Shiera couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “I bet you expected Legion Schwertleite to be more peaceful, huh, Miu?” she said, feeling no alarm at Ayane and Gyokuyo’s behavior—she knew her roommmate and her Schutzengel too well. “If that’s what you’re after, you should try one of the student council legions.”
Miu shook her head. “I want to defend Kamakura, Shiera-sama,” she said, with boldness in her voice that hadn’t been there before. “I want to be in a legion that fights the Huge, not each other.”
Shiera smiled at her. “Then you’re in the right place, as long as you can put up with the rest of us,” she replied. She gave the other Lilies a meaningful glance, and the two finally relaxed, Gyokuyo giving her CHARM a fancy twirl as she brought it back to a resting position.
Gyokuyo studied the young Lily-in-training, one of those worrisome smiles of hers rising back to her lips. “Are you prepared to defend Kamakura from those other than the Huge, little girl?” she inquired. “There are other threats out there. Lilies who would callously abandon others to die. Lilies crazed with bloodlust and not in their right minds. And—”
“Onee-sama, not a word more, or I’m going to get angry,” Shiera interrupted sharply.
“Oh, dear,” Gyokuyo said, with feigned chagrin in her voice. “The most fearsome threat of all is Shie when she’s angry. But it’s no use fighting her, so if she comes for you, just accept your fate and rue the cruel world into which you were born.” Shiera let out a sigh, glaring fiercely at her Schutzengel.
Miu giggled. “I think I can get used to the way you act,” she said, smiling at them. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”
After watching Gyokuyo warily for a few moments longer to make sure the older girl wouldn’t immediately embark upon more mischief, Shiera relaxed enough to smile back at Miu. “Should we continue our patrol? It won’t get done with us just standing here,” she suggested to the others, and Gyokuyo and Miu nodded.
Shiera turned towards Ayane, and paused. The other girl wasn’t facing them. She was looking out at the sea, her expression focused.
“What’s wrong, Aya?” Shiera asked.
“Thought I saw something,” Ayane said. She lifted her arm and pointed out at the water. All that Shiera could see in that direction were some clouds. They were dark, perhaps an omen of ill weather, but storms weren’t uncommon over Sagami Bay.
“Maybe it was just a shadow from the clouds,” Shiera suggested.
“Those aren’t ordinary clouds,” Gyokuyo said, her voice unusually grim. As the words reached her, Shiera suddenly saw lightning flash inside the cloudbank she was looking at. It wasn’t the yellowish-white of lightning, but a brilliant red; a hue that she could never mistake for anything but the color of negative magie.
Then the first of the Huge burst from the surface of the sea.
Shiera’s hands immediately darted to the handles of her CHARMs. She remembered, a year ago, when it had been Gyokuyo pointing out at the sea as she watched. She remembered her Schutzengel’s words of guidance.
“You’ll see the biggest Huge first, out in the water, but the small ones are faster. They’ll jump out of the shallows and come right at you. Don’t let them catch you off guard.”
“We’re retreating!” Ayane shouted, backing away from the water with her CHARM at the ready. “Get to the road! We’ll assess the situation from there! Miu, stay behind us and contact the Oiso command post!”
“Fighting right at the shoreline only makes things easier for the Huge. You’ll be less steady with sand beneath your feet. Even if there’s no sand, they can—and will—ambush you from underwater. Choose where you fight wisely. They might slip past you, but they’ll do that just the same if you’re dead.”
As Shiera backed towards the road, monstrous shape after monstrous shape emerged among the distant waves, lumbering towards them with slow, ponderous movements. Then, moments after she’d set her feet upon the surface of the coastal road, dozens of small-types leapt out of the water and charged over the sand at them. Shiera and the other Lilies fired a barrage of magie bullets at the small-types, blasting apart the front rank, but it scarcely reduced their numbers.
“Come in, Oiso!” Shiera heard Miu shouting. “This is Yurigaoka’s Legion Schwertleite! We’ve sighted Huge at Oiso Beach! Five… no, ten large-types!”
When the rush of air from the oncoming horde began tickling her skin, Shiera flicked her wrist, swiftly transforming her Durandal into blade mode. She swept the CHARM towards the oncoming small-types in a wide cleave, cutting several of the monsters in two, then raised the Charlemagne in her other hand to block one that had leapt at her. For a moment, the small-type flailed its mandibles and legs ineffectually at her before Gyokuyo skewered it with her spear.
“When we count twenty-three large-types, we run,” said Shiera.
Ayane leapt into the air, her blade sinking deeply into a mid-type from above as she came down, then kicked herself off it and landed next to Shiera. “That works for me, Shie, but why twenty-three?” asked the other Lily as the mid-type toppled backwards, crushing several smaller Huge and causing the ground to shake beneath their feet with the impact of its body.
“No time to explain,” said Shiera. As she fought against the oncoming horde, she listened attentively to Miu’s voice behind her. “Twenty large-types, now… make that thirty—wah!” the girl shouted.
Shiera whirled around to see that Gyokuyo had swept the younger girl up with one arm, hoisting her over her shoulder, and bounded into the air. Gyokuyo twirled her CHARM, transforming it, and blind-fired behind her at the pursuing Huge. Shiera leapt after her. She knew, intuitively, that Ayane was close behind them.
With vast leap after vast leap, the Lilies traveled east, rapidly outpacing the Huge behind them. Even when the monsters disappeared from sight, they didn’t slow down. One never knew when they might encounter irregular Huge that were able to keep pace with a Lily.
It didn’t feel good, running away. But there was nothing that a mere four Lilies, one of them a junior high schooler, could do against a horde of that size.
“Will Oiso be okay?” Shiera asked, concern in her voice. As she leapt through the air in the direction of Yurigaoka, she turned her head, looking out to sea. Dark clouds, flashing red with the light of magie, were gathering over practically the entire horizon. She’d only ever seen anything like it once before, in a place by the name of Odaiba.
“That’s not the question you should be asking, my dear Schild,” Gyokuyo said. Shiera’s eyes snapped over to her Schutzengel. She looked as serene as she always did, but the only times that Gyokuyo ever called Shiera something other than “Shie” were when she was feeling especially out of sorts.
“What you should be asking,” continued the other Lily, “is ‘Will Yurigaoka be okay?’”
Chihana looked at the tarot card she’d drawn, frowned, then flipped it over in her hand.
“You mustn’t do that,” Touka told her. “If you draw a card, and it’s upside down, that changes the meaning. Just place it down on the table exactly like you drew it.”
The other girl blinked. “Oh, I see,” she said, flipping the card around again and then laying it down on the table that separated the two of them. “Fortune telling’s more complicated than it seems, huh?”
“This is one of the simpler ways to do it,” Touka said. “Draw two more cards and lay them down, then I’ll explain what they mean.” With a nod, Chihana drew two more cards from the tarot deck, putting them down on the table next to the first one to make a row of three. “So where do we start?” she asked.
“The card on the left represents your past,” Touka explained.
“I’m pretty sure I would remember if I’d ever been stabbed with a bunch of swords and left for dead,” Chihana said. “Even if everything was upside down for some reason.”
Touka couldn’t help but smile. There was something about the way her roommate phrased things that always amused her. “That’s because it only represents your past,” she pointed out. “And since it’s upside down—in tarot, we call that a reversed card—the meaning isn’t the same.”
“If it means that I haven’t been stabbed to death, that seems self-evident,” Chihana said in a teasing voice.
Touka shook her head. “The ten of swords means disaster, or betrayal,” she said. “When it’s reversed, it means the disaster did happen, but that it wasn’t the end of everything. It means that if you have the inner strength to do so, you can start anew and regain the things that you lost. Or, in this case, that you already have.”
“That makes sense,” Chihana said. “So this card is about us moving on from the tragedy that happened at Koshu, and making Álfheimr into the world’s best legion?”
Touka nodded. “That’s certainly a valid interpretation,” she said.
But we never really moved on, did we?
“So if that card was my past, is the middle card my present?” Chihana asked. “It’s not nearly as creepy. Though that guy looks like he’s having a hard time carrying all those sticks.”
“It might not surprise you that the ten of wands means that you’re carrying a burden,” Touka explained. “But it also means that you’re well on your way to your destination, and you’ve accomplished a great deal already. Stay the course and take pride in what you’ve done, Chihana.” She smiled at her roommate.
Touka knew that she was letting her own wishes color her interpretation. It was naive to hope that a simple tarot reading that they were doing for fun would change Chihana’s mind about Álfheimr’s future, but nonetheless, she couldn’t help but hope that it might.
“Well, that’s a nice compliment,” Chihana said, smiling back at Touka, then looking down at the card. “Thanks, ten of wands. I appreciate it, little buddy.” Touka covered her mouth as she giggled.
Chihana frowned as she turned her attention to the last card. “I guess this card’s my future… but does this one even belong in the deck?” she asked. “The art style’s totally different. Abstract.”
“Tarot decks were never very popular in Japan, especially after the Huge appeared,” Touka explained. “This is the only complete deck I’ve ever found, and it must have been patched together from a couple of incomplete ones. That’s why not all the cards match.”
She looked down at the final card Chihana had drawn; the abstract cards mixed into the deck were hard to recognize, so she’d done no more than glance at it earlier. As Touka realized which card it was, a chill went down her spine.
“I guess it’s a stone tower or something? Like part of an old castle,” Chihana said, looking down at the card. “There’s clouds around it. And something else on top, but I can’t tell what it is.”
“That’s right,” Touka said. She swallowed. “Um, Chihana, are you sure this one wasn’t upside down when you drew it?” she asked, in desperate hope.
Chihana shook her head. “Only the ten of swords was,” she replied, then gave Touka a concerned look. “Is something the matter, Touka?”
Touka forced herself to smile. “U-Um, I was just surprised,” she said. “The Tower’s a special card, you see. A really good one. It means… it means that all your achievements will be like a majestic tower that you built, and you’ll stand atop it in a high place of honor, forever after. Isn’t that wonderful, Chihana?”
“Sure is,” Chihana said cheerfully. “I hope it comes true.” She looked at Touka with a warm smile on her face, oblivious to her deception; Chihana had never been very good at reading people. “Thanks for telling my fortune, Touka. I’ve never—” she began.
Outside their room, the bell of Yurigaoka’s chapel suddenly began to toll loudly, interrupting Chihana’s words. It was the signal that Huge had been spotted somewhere nearby, and the on-duty legions were to ready themselves for battle. Touka waited for the bell to stop, but it didn’t—meaning that more than just on-duty legions were needed.
“Shoot. Is that an all-legion alert?” Chihana said. She jumped to her feet and hauled her CHARM’s case up onto the table, disturbing the tarot cards, then began opening the clasps of the case hastily. “We’d better go meet up with the rest of Álfheimr.”
Wordlessly, Touka watched the abstract likeness of a burning tower flutter down to the floor of their room.
When she looked up, Chihana was smiling at her again. “Let’s go lay another brick in our majestic tower, Touka,” said the other Lily. “’Cause when it’s all built, and I climb up to the top to enjoy the view, I want you there with me.”