Chapter 113 - The Truth...? (3)

"First, sit down."

"If I may."

Alon bowed slightly at her command and sat across from her. Siyan smiled as though she had been waiting for this and held out a sweet potato.

"Eat."

"Ah, yes."

He had eaten one yesterday too, but he did not dislike them. Besides, refusing something bestowed by the monarch herself was out of the question, so he accepted it obediently.

'... But why has it been sweet potatoes every time since my last visit...?'

Of course, he did wonder.

"They say it doesn't taste good once it gets cold."

"Then, if I may."

At her further urging, he obediently took a mouthful.

Unfortunately, he still could not taste the sweet potato. Who could possibly eat comfortably in front of a monarch?

And on top of that...

'... Wait, why am I the only one...?'

He was the only one chewing on a sweet potato.

If she had been eating something too, sweet potatoes or otherwise, he could have filled his stomach while discreetly watching her cues. Instead, she simply stared at him as he ate.

'She'll stare a hole through my face.'

It made him uncomfortable, but he could hardly ask her to look elsewhere.

"..."

He chewed and chewed.

"..."

And chewed some more.

Thus, Alon forced himself to finish the entire sweet potato in front of the faintly smiling monarch.

"You eat well."

"... Thank you for the compliment."

'Should I be pleased to be praised for eating?' While he briefly entertained that thought in silence, Siyan nodded with a satisfied expression.

"Well, now that you've had something to eat, let us talk."

She leaned forward, apparently ready to get to the point.

"What did you obtain from the ruins?"

"The Shadow Dragon's Egg."

"What is that?"

"... To be honest, apart from its name, I don't know much myself... But may I ask you something?"

"Speak."

"... Your Majesty, do you not know about the Shadow Dragon's Egg?"

Surely she did? There must have been a reason she sent him there.

And yet...

"Of course I don't."

Siyan nodded as though this were only natural.

"...? Then why did you order me to visit the ruins...?"

Alon's bewilderment could only deepen.

She seemed to gather her thoughts for a moment, then looked him in the eyes.

"Marquis Pallatio, how much do you know about our royal House Critenia? No—more precisely, do you know about the Golden History Eye?"

Alon nodded.

"Yes, I do."

"Do you know its abilities as well?"

"... I understand that it allows one to inherit the power accumulated through the great royal bloodline."

Siyan nodded in confirmation.

"Yes. As you say, this Golden History Eye, passed down through generations of House Critenia's royalty, inherits power. That is, in essence, the same as inheriting the past."

She casually raised her index finger.

FWOOSH!

A small flame appeared above it.

"What do you think?"

"... It's magic."

"I have never studied magic. Isn't that remarkable?"

"Is it inherited power?"

"Yes. Power passed down by our second monarch, who was a seventh-tier mage. And that is not all. Swordsmanship, alchemy, engineering, strategy—I have inherited countless other things as well."

With her free hand, she tapped beside her eye.

"Through these eyes."

"Doesn't that strike you as terribly unfair?" Critenia Siyan added as she extinguished the flame. Alon remained silent.

In truth, he had not quite grasped what she was trying to tell him.

Siyan continued.

"But while it may look that way to others, this power has a side effect. Do you know what it is?"

"... I'm afraid I don't—"

Even as he answered, Alon wondered. As far as he knew, Psychedelia had never described any side effects of the Golden History Eye.

"Memories."

"Memories?"

"Yes. The Golden History Eye passes power down to later generations, and memories along with it."

"... This is the first I've heard of it."

"Naturally. Only monarchs who have inherited the Golden History Eye know this fact."

"Then do you inherit all their memories?"

"No, nothing of the sort. Only a tiny fraction, in fact. Mostly powerful memories and cherished recollections remain in the mind. Then they gradually surface."

Siyan stared intently at Alon's face.

"Marquis Pallatio, you must be wondering why I sent you to the Ruins of Malaka. Am I right?"

"To be honest, yes."

As Alon nodded, Siyan stated the fact without hesitation.

"It is because you are in the memories I inherited through the Golden History Eye."

"You, Marquis Pallatio."

####

Despite his expressionless face, Marquis Pallatio—no, Alon—found his mind filling with ever more questions.

"You're saying that I appear in the memories inherited through the Golden History Eye?"

"Yes."

"Truly?"

That made no sense. As she herself had said, the Golden History Eye was a power that inherited the past.

"Why would I lie? It is an indisputable fact. An indisputable fact without a shred of falsehood."

"... Is there any possibility that you might be mistaken?"

"No—none. The reason I can possess so many memories of successive inheritors without going mad is that, even when I inherit a memory, I can recognize that it belongs to someone else. And—"

"—this is unquestionably an inherited memory," Siyan declared firmly. Alon asked,

"... Can you tell when that memory was inherited?"

"No, unfortunately I cannot. As I said, inherited memories contain only powerful experiences or cherished recollections. I cannot infer anything beyond that."

They were simply inherited, with no other information: when, from whom, or why they had been passed down.

"That is what makes this so curious, Marquis Pallatio. Just what are you?"

"... What Your Majesty has told me is entirely unfamiliar to me as well..."

"And yet you seem quite calm, not even surprised."

"My expression has never changed much."

Siyan gave a thoughtful hum, then shrugged in apparent disappointment.

"I thought speaking with you might give me a clue, but it seems not."

"... May I ask about those inherited memories?"

Siyan fell silent for a moment, searching her memory.

"... Two memories have surfaced so far. In one, someone who looked exactly like you spoke privately with the monarch whose memory I inherited, saying there was something badly needed in the Ruins of Malaka."

That was why she had sent Alon there.

"And in the other, you were dressed in ceremonial finery, receiving commendation after saving the kingdom from some crisis."

Even after hearing that, he could make no sense of it.

"... Was the face really mine?"

"Do you think I couldn't recognize even that?"

"... Forgive my impertinence."

Siyan soon let out a quiet exclamation.

"Ah, and you were quite expressive in those inherited memories."

"... Expressive, you say?"

"Yes. For example—"

She pressed an index finger against the corner of Alon's mouth and pushed it upward.

"—like this."

"You mean I smiled often?"

"You were grinning the entire time."

Siyan smiled too, as though enjoying an entertaining sight.

Alon considered this quietly.

"May I ask what my rank was in those inherited memories?"

"I don't know."

"Is... that so?"

"I remember a conversation, but only your words remain. I cannot hear what the actual owner of the inherited memory said."

Alon asked her several more questions, but in the end he could not determine which monarch the memories belonged to.

After they had talked for a while, she said,

"At any rate, those inherited memories were why I sent you to the Ruins of Malaka."

"... Thank you for your kindness."

"Kindness? It was all an investment."

"An investment?"

"Yes. You saved the kingdom in the inherited memory. I thought you might prove useful this time too."

"I doubt that was me, though."

"... Is that so?"

Resting her chin on her hand, Siyan smiled faintly.

"In the end, we've learned nothing about these strangely inherited memories."

"My apologies."

"There is no need. This was quite entertaining. I will summon you if anything else comes to mind."

"... Do the memories surface gradually?"

"Most of them do. After inheriting them, I recall them one by one at utterly unexpected moments. Or when I experience a powerful shock similar to one from the past. Anyway—"

"Until next time. I'm beginning to feel sleepy." With those words, she dismissed him. Alon bowed slightly and left her office.

####

A few days later.

"My lord?"

"What is it?"

"Well, you've been deep in thought ever since you visited the royal castle. Did something happen?"

Alon shook his head at Evan's question as the knight drove the carriage.

"Nothing serious."

"... Yet you've spent days thinking about it?"

"Strictly speaking, I think about it when I'm spacing out. I haven't been thinking about it for days on end."

Leaving Evan's drawn-out "Is that so?" behind him, Alon once again gazed blankly at the forest passing by.

His mind was occupied by the memories inherited through the Golden History Eye that the monarch had told him about a few days earlier.

'... No matter how I look at it, this makes no sense.'

As he had considered time and again, the Golden History Eye inherited the past. It had no power to predict the future.

If it did, Siyan should never have died defending her crumbling kingdom in the first place, and Alon should have known that detail of the setting.

In other words, the memories inherited through the Golden History Eye were very likely genuine memories of the past.

What he could not understand, however, was this:

'... A noble with exactly the same face and voice as me...'

Aside from his expressiveness, the man in the memories looked exactly like him.

'... An ancestor?'

House Pallatio had plenty of ancestors, so he thought it possible, but even then it was strange.

'... The Ruins of Malaka were only discovered recently in the first place.'

As far as he knew, the Ruins of Malaka were a relatively recent discovery even now, with less than a year left before the original story began.

In other words, their discovery was not far enough in the past to remain in an inherited memory.

'... The lore does mention the jungle being devastated a hundred years ago, with all the research records lost. If the Ruins of Malaka had been discovered before then, and a memory from that time was passed down, it wouldn't be impossible.'

But far too many things remained questionable even with that explanation. Alon finally let out a small sigh and brought this line of thought to an end.

The memories provided by the Golden History Eye were so limited that trying to draw conclusions from them was practically pointless.

Instead, Alon turned to one last question—one that had remained unanswered since his meeting with Critenia Siyan.

'... Why is she treating me so well?'

By any reasonable understanding, the Golden History Eye's memories reflected the past. Thus, at this point, even she should have concluded that the man in ceremonial finery was someone else who resembled Alon, not Alon himself.

Yet she was showing him kindness simply because he looked exactly like the man who had saved the kingdom.

That was tantamount to being certain the man in the inherited memory was Alon.

'... And there was no reason to specifically tell me to visit the Ruins of Malaka, either.'

Which left him wondering:

'What could it possibly be?'

With a peculiar expression, Alon could only spend some time pondering whether the monarch was hiding something.

####

Meanwhile, in the office at Asteria's royal castle.

"... You've been lost in thought quite often lately, Your Majesty."

Critenia Siyan, who had been gazing blankly out the window, replied to her secretary,

"Does it seem that way?"

"Yes. Particularly since your meeting with Marquis Pallatio. Might I dare ask the reason?"

"The reason, hm? Don't worry. It is nothing particularly serious. If anything, you could call it an entertaining question."

"... Entertaining, Your Majesty?"

Siyan gave a small nod.

"Yes, very entertaining. In more ways than one."

A faint smile lingered on her lips as she murmured those inscrutable words.