The light of the crystal ball went out.
At the same time, the light that had been illuminating Lyriette's consciousness went out too.
Just moments ago she had been sitting in her chair, giggling like a fool.
But now, as if she'd just run a full sprint, she collapsed against the chair, utterly drained.
Her arms flopped uselessly, like squid hung out to dry on a laundry line.
No thoughts came to her at all.
One minute passed. Two minutes. Three.
It was only after roughly five minutes that Lyriette let out a gasp and shot upright.
"W-wait, what was that voice just now? Who was that? Being with a girl at this late hour, Uncle...."
The time was now nearly eleven at night.
Baal had clearly been in the middle of preparing for bed—he'd been dressed simply.
Which meant he must have made that call from his bedroom.
Then did that mean he was in the same room as a girl, at this hour?
'A lover? No, the voice sounded young. Around my age....'
My age?
The moment her thoughts reached that point, Lyriette's pupils quaked like the ground during an earthquake.
It wasn't out of some delusion that Baal had laid a hand on someone her own age.
Her trust in her uncle had long since broken through the ceiling and reached the heavens.
It was simply an instinctive unease that had taken hold of her.
Baal was kind.
Sure, he could be mischievous and full of pranks at times, but at his core, he was gentler and more considerate than anyone she'd ever known.
He'd taught her all sorts of things, since she knew nothing of the world.
When times were hard, he'd always stood by her side, steady as a pine tree she could lean on.
But could she really be certain that she was the only one he did that for?
No—she couldn't.
After all, during the two years he'd been away from the estate.
Lyriette had no idea who he'd met, what bonds he might have formed.
Among them, perhaps, there could be a girl who'd received Baal's help just as she had.
And through that, had come to hold feelings for him.
She wanted to believe he wouldn't have let it go so far as sharing a bed with someone.
But her own past behavior thoroughly demolished that comforting thought.
'Uncle Baal accepted it so readily, even when I was being spoiled and clingy. There's no guarantee the same thing hasn't happened again....'
Her whining that he feed her at every meal.
Her whining that he sleep beside her for four nights straight.
He had granted every single one of her requests, wholeheartedly, without missing a single one.
So if someone her own age made a similar request, would he refuse it?
'There's no way he would.'
Without even realizing it, Lyriette had begun biting her nails.
That had always been Abel's bad habit, not hers.
She'd never understood why he'd picked up such a habit, watching him get scolded by Cassdia for it time and time again—but today, she finally understood.
'No, wait—maybe she just asked without thinking much of it. I shouldn't jump to conclusions.'
Lyriette took a deep breath, trying to somehow suppress her thoughts as they spiraled toward the worst possible conclusions.
'Wait. But why did Uncle Baal shut off the crystal ball so hastily? Why didn't he explain to me who that girl was?'
The question that had suddenly bubbled up again dragged her right back down into the depths.
If it hadn't been for that one detail, Lyriette wouldn't have minded so much.
Even just a simple explanation—who the girl was, why the two of them happened to be together at that hour—would have solved everything.
But he hadn't offered one.
Why?
Was it a secret worth keeping from her?
So why—why on earth?
'I can tell Uncle Baal anything.'
Even the smallest, most trivial things weighing on her heart, she could share without hesitation.
Well—there was exactly one thing she couldn't tell him.
But that was only because she herself hadn't found an answer to it yet—certainly not because she had anything to hide from Baal.
"Mnyah."
When her mental fortitude finally hit its limit, Lyriette let out a wail like a sickly cat and collapsed face-first onto her desk.
Should she turn the crystal ball back on and call him again, right now?
But what if Uncle Baal found it annoying?
No, she could just say she wanted to hear his voice a little longer, that would work.
Wait—was she seriously considering lying to Uncle Baal?
Was lying even the priority right now? What mattered was that 'her thing' might be taken by someone else.
'Your thing'? What is that supposed to mean? Uncle Baal isn't a possession.
"Gasp!"
Feeling as though some dangerous thought had crossed her mind, Lyriette—forgetting it was the middle of the night—swung her hand forward with all her might.
Thwack!
"Eek!?"
And the place that hand landed was, of all things, her own head.
It hurt enough to draw an undignified yelp from her, but it was still better than being devoured by pointless brooding.
A composure and judgment that seemed unbelievable for a ten-year-old girl.
It was proof, if any were needed, that she hadn't earned her place as a contender for the next head of House Argent for nothing.
And so ten minutes of worrying became thirty.
And before long, one hour turned into two.
"...Let's just sleep."
In the end, Lyriette reached a conclusion.
For now, at least, she would try to get some sleep.
It was already well past midnight.
Baal had told her that children ought to be in bed by ten at the very latest.
And Lyriette was a good girl who listened to her uncle better than anyone.
No—she had to be a good girl.
And so, just as she pushed her chair back and rose from her seat—
Flash.
"...Huh?"
The crystal ball he had gifted her began glowing with light once more.
***
Yuria woke from her sleep sometime near one in the morning.
It wasn't because her bed was uncomfortable, exactly.
The bed was certainly soft, the blanket warm, and Baal was the kind of good adult who slept soundly, without so much as a snore or a mutter in his sleep.
It was simply a habit of hers.
A kind of survival skill the frail girl had picked up after being abandoned by her parents at the age of six, forced to endure a harsh life.
Without even a house to her name, she'd had to sneak into village stables to sleep.
Or make do in a wheat storehouse piled high with straw.
If she were ever caught, she wouldn't just get an earful.
More than once, she'd been chased out of a village entirely.
So she'd learned to wake every hour or two, to check carefully whether anyone was coming.
An environment demanding a level of vigilance akin to a night watch—one most grown adults would struggle to endure.
But Yuria had never once questioned that environment.
"Mm..."
She tried to fall back asleep, but it was no use.
It seemed she'd have to hold out like this for an hour or two.
Poke, poke.
With nothing better to do, Yuria began poking at Baal's cheek.
Squish, squish.
Just to test it, she tried pulling at his cheek too.
He must have been sleeping very soundly, because Baal never once stirred.
After doing it once or twice, she grew bored of that too and sat up, looking for something else to do.
"......?"
That was when she noticed a ring sitting on the table.
It seemed Baal had taken it off earlier and forgotten to put it back on.
She was sure a person's face had popped out of it earlier.
Yuria turned the ring over in her hands, examining it curiously.
Just then.
Flash.
Unbeknownst to her, the mana that still lingered and swirled around her—an effect of the Chaos Mana—seeped into the ring and triggered a reaction.
As a burst of light spilled out, Yuria's eyes widened, just slightly.
A difference so small it would have been hard to notice with the naked eye.
- U-uncle Baal?
Soon, just as before, fragments of light began sketching out the shape of a girl.
And the voice she'd heard earlier came through from the other side.
"...Who's this?"
Without so much as a greeting, Yuria asked for the other party's identity.
There was no hostility in it—only pure curiosity.
- Huh? U-um, more importantly... who are you?
"Yuria. My name's Yuria."
- I'm Lyriette Argent.
After the brief exchange of names, Yuria spoke up right away.
"Argent? Baal's an Argent too."
- I'm Uncle Baal's niece. That's why we share the same surname.
"I see."
Yuria's family had been so destitute, even among commoners, that they hadn't even had a surname—so she hadn't known such an obvious fact.
Having gained a bit of new knowledge, Yuria felt secretly pleased with herself.
Meanwhile, Lyriette, who had been quietly watching her, posed a question.
- Um... you said your name was Yuria, right?
"Yeah. I'm Yuria."
- Was that you—the voice I heard earlier, when I was talking with Uncle Baal?
"Yep."
When Yuria nodded, Lyriette's expression turned anxious.
Yuria, who had trouble even telling facial expressions apart, let alone empathizing with them, had no idea.
- Um, what's your relationship with Uncle Baal, exactly?
"Relationship?"
Her relationship with Baal, huh.
How exactly was she supposed to explain that?
Baal had said he'd take her on as his disciple.
But Yuria still hadn't called him "Master."
So could what they had really be called a teacher-and-student relationship?
For a ten-year-old, Yuria posed herself a surprisingly fundamental question.
"Dunno."
- What do you mean, you don't know?
"I just don't know. But Baal said he'd stay with me."
Crash!
Suddenly, a clattering noise erupted from the other side of the ring.
Maybe she was swatting a bug or something.
Having always had a hard time with rats and bugs while sleeping in the stable, Yuria didn't think much of it.
- W-wait, hold on a second! What exactly do you mean by that—!
"By what?"
- W-what you just said! That Uncle Baal said he'd stay with you—what does that mean!?
Lyriette's voice rose in pitch.
Yuria found her a little loud, but she'd been taught that when someone asks a question, you answer it, so she kindly explained.
"Exactly what I said. Baal said it. I don't really know what it means either."
- If you don't know, then who does...!
"Should I wake Baal up and ask him?"
- What?
"He's sleeping right next to me."
- N-next to you!?
Technically, he'd only been sleeping next to her up until a moment ago—but since she'd be lying back down next to him again once sleep came for her, it wasn't exactly wrong.
The problem was that this small difference in wording had led to an enormous misunderstanding on the other end of the conversation.
- A-anyway, don't wake him up. He must be tired. More importantly, there are a few more things I want to ask...
"Ah."
Sleepy.
Yuria could feel the sandman creeping back up on her already.
Normally it took an hour or two, but for some reason, tonight it had come early.
Maybe it was because the bed was so cozy.
It felt as if her body, knowing this, was instinctively urging her: *Hurry up and lie down!*
"I'm gonna sleep. Bye."
- Wait, h-hold on! I still haven't asked—!
"Huh."
How do I turn this thing off?
Paying no mind to the commotion happening on the other end, Yuria calmly turned the ring this way and that.
But no matter what she did, the light showed no sign of going out.
In truth, it was because of the mana she couldn't quite withdraw that the ring refused to switch off—but Yuria had no idea.
'Guess I'll just sleep.'
Giving up on turning off the ring, Yuria padded back over to Baal's side.
The problem was that the ring happened to be angled just right, so that the scene of her returning to bed and lying down beside Baal was being broadcast live.
- U-uncle Baal's... with another girl, not me...
Something kept muttering from the ring, on and on.
But the distance was too great for it to properly reach Yuria's ears.
If anything, it just became a pleasant, faint white noise, letting Yuria close her eyes in peace.
"Mm..."
Just then, perhaps out of some sleep-talking impulse, Baal shifted in his sleep and draped an arm over her.
"Draped" was more accurate than "embraced," really.
But to someone watching from behind the scene, it looked like something else entirely.
- H-he's being so affectionate... more importantly, I need to turn this off, now....
And that light did not go out until four in the morning.
***
These days, there was a scene that played out every morning in House Argent.
The morning sparring match between the two Argent children.
'Alright—today's the day I finally take a match off Lyriette.'
Having changed into his training uniform early, Abel steeled his resolve with a burst of confidence.
He knew full well Lyriette's skill surpassed his own.
But even so, a brother had his pride to uphold.
Just as his eyes were blazing with the determination that today, without fail, he would win a single round—
"...Brother, you're here."
"Yeah. What's got you—wait, huh?"
He turned toward the familiar voice, only to find his younger sister standing there, silver hair hanging loose like a ghost's, staring at him with hollow, sunken eyes.
'What is this? Did a ghost possess Lyriette in the middle of the night?'
Or maybe she just hadn't been able to sleep.
Either way, he had no intention of holding back.
Managing your own condition was part of skill, too.
"Shall we begin?"
"Sure. Today, I'm not going down easy—wait, huh?"
Thwack!
A sharp sound rang in his ears.
It took Abel several seconds to realize what had just happened.
"Leaving me behind, leaving me behind...!"
"Ow! H-hey! Cut it out! Lyriette! Even if that's how you feel, hitting someone who's already down—!"
"That girl might've been cute, sure, but you told me I was cute too!"
"What are you even talking about—gyaah!"
And from there, he was left with no time to even scream, as he took blow after one-sided blow.
He couldn't help but be unnerved by his sister spouting nonsense as if genuinely possessed, but at the same time, Abel found himself inwardly marveling at just how much heavier her sword strikes had become compared to usual.
'Did she climb another step already!?'
Without even realizing it herself, Lyriette had once again earned recognition of her talent from Abel.