Chapter 50: The Limits Of Creation.
That night, we ate dinner at the tavern again.
The food was warm, the company comfortable, and the conversation easy. Yet my attention kept returning to the same question, circling it like a bird over water.
A name.
The doll sat beside me, its button eyes fixed ahead, its stitched mouth holding its familiar crooked smile. It had been with me through everything. It had protected me, learned with me, and grown in ways I had never anticipated.
It deserved a name.
I thought about the names I had considered before. Yuki. Simple. Quiet. A name that reminded me of snow.
But it no longer felt right.
The doll was not merely quiet protection. It had fought. It had adapted. It had learned to wield a weapon and developed a fighting style of its own.
It had become something I could no longer define by what I had originally intended it to be.
Then I remembered a word I had learned in the Fairy Realm.
Kónos.
It was not a name I had heard before, but its meaning had stayed with me.
Effort. The act of trying. The determination to continue when something was difficult, even when success seemed far away.
The doll had tried.
It had failed, then tried again. It had learned from its mistakes. It had adapted when its original design was no longer enough.
And through every failure, it had continued.
Perhaps that was what I admired most about it.
I turned toward the doll.
"Kónos," I said quietly.
The doll did not respond. It never did.
Its button eyes caught the light, and for a moment, I thought I saw them gleam.
Albruna leaned forward.
"Kónos? What does it mean?"
"Effort," I replied. "Trying. Refusing to stop, even when things get difficult."
She repeated the name, testing how it sounded.
"Kónos."
Then she smiled and turned toward the doll.
"Hello, Kónos."
The doll remained still.
But I could have sworn it sat a little straighter.
I smiled and returned to my meal.
For the first time, I was no longer thinking of it simply as the doll.
It had a name now.
Kónos.
And somehow, that made everything feel a little different.
***
The following morning, we met at the Adventurers' Guild.
Kaede was already standing near the quest board, examining the available assignments. Adelgund and Averhilda arrived together, their weapons ready and their expressions alert. Albruna came last, her hair still damp from washing.
I approached the board.
Before I could reach it, I heard my name.
"Elsbeth? The one who got promoted to Ag?"
"Yeah. Directly from Cu. Never heard of that happening before."
"She must have bribed someone."
"Or blackmailed the Guild Master."
"Maybe she's got something on him. That's the only explanation that makes sense. Or maybe they are having affair"
I stopped.
Their voices were low, but not low enough.
The words hung in the air, sharp and cold.
Adelgund's jaw tightened.
"That's ridiculous."
Averhilda frowned. "Why would they believe that without any evidence?"
Albruna glanced at me.
"Will this affect your reputation?"
I didn't answer immediately.
I could have confronted them. I could have explained what happened during the Melanorus encounter, how our magic had failed, how Kónos and I had continued fighting, and how we had protected Lady Seraphine.
I could have told them that the promotion had been earned.
But they weren't asking questions.
They had already invented their answers.
Kaede stepped closer to me.
"Don't waste your energy arguing with people who have already decided what to believe."
I looked at her.
"Even if they're wrong?"
"Especially if they're wrong." She glanced toward the adventurers. "If they genuinely wanted the truth, they would ask for it. Until then, let them talk."
I looked back at the group.
They had not noticed me listening. They were still speculating, building stories from nothing.
Perhaps I should have been angry.
Instead, I felt tired.
I had spent too much of my previous life worrying about deadlines, expectations, and what other people thought of my work. I had no intention of allowing rumours to dictate how I lived this life, too.
I turned toward the quest board.
"Let's find something to do."
Kaede nodded, apparently satisfied with my decision.
We examined the available assignments and eventually settled on a Fe-rank investigation quest.
The receptionist explained the details.
A remote site had been flagged for suspicious activity. Another adventuring party had been sent to investigate, but they had failed to return.
Their whereabouts were unknown.
The guild wanted us to examine the site, determine what had happened to the missing party, and report anything unusual.
It sounded straightforward.
But an entire adventuring party had disappeared, and the guild had received no explanation.
That was enough to make me cautious.
I read the quest paper again, studying the location and the limited information available.
"We'll take it," I said.
The receptionist nodded and recorded our acceptance.
We would need supplies before leaving, so we agreed to meet outside the guild once everyone was ready.
As I turned away, I glanced back at the adventurers who had been spreading rumours.
They were still talking.
I didn't confront them.
I had work to do.
And if I wanted people to understand what I could do, I would have to give them something more substantial than words.
Before leaving the city, we visited a blacksmith.
The shop was warm, the air thick with the smell of heated metal and coal smoke. Weapons lined the walls: swords, spears, axes, and maces, each crafted with care and waiting for a hand to wield it.
Adelgund went straight to the swords.
She examined several, testing their weight, balance, and edges. Every so often, she made a small adjustment to her grip before returning the weapon to its rack.
None seemed to satisfy her.
Averhilda examined the spears. She found several that were well made, but each time she tested one, she returned it to its place.
Kaede inspected the lighter blades, handling daggers and short swords with the quiet precision of someone who knew exactly what she needed.
Albruna searched for a weapon that would complement her magic. She examined staves and wands, but none seemed to fit the way she fought.
The blacksmith watched us from behind the counter, his arms crossed.
"Nothing suitable?"
Adelgund returned another sword to its rack.
"Not yet."
He grunted.
"Sometimes a weapon isn't wrong because it's poorly made. Sometimes it simply isn't right for the person holding it."
Adelgund glanced at him but offered no reply.
I stood near the entrance, watching the others continue their search.
I wasn't looking for a weapon myself.
I had the G-Pen.
I had the grimoire.
And I had Kónos.
But I remembered Adelgund's question from the previous night.
“Can you draw weapons for other people too?”
I had promised to try.
Perhaps I could begin by learning what they needed, even if I couldn't create anything for them yet.
"I have an idea," I said.
The others turned toward me.
"I can't promise it will work, but I could try drawing a weapon for one of you."
Adelgund's expression brightened.
"You mean with your grimoire?"
I nodded.
"I've never created a weapon for another person. Kónos was made for me, and I don't know whether the same magic will work for someone else."
"Then we'll find out," Adelgund said.
"Not quite yet."
She tilted her head.
I searched for the right words.
"When I drew Kónos, I knew what I needed. When I created the armour, it appeared when the situation demanded it. I still don't understand all the rules, but I think need matters."
"You mean the weapon will appear when I'm in danger?" Adelgund asked.
"Maybe. Or maybe the grimoire needs something else from me. I don't know enough to say."
She considered that.
"So, when I really need a weapon?"
"That's what I want to find out."
Adelgund smiled.
"All right. When I need it most."
I looked at the others.
"Would anyone else be willing to try?"
Averhilda shrugged.
"Why not? If it works, we learn something. If it doesn't, we learn something anyway."
Kaede folded her arms.
"I'll consider it once we know what the experiment involves."
Albruna grinned.
"I want to see what happens."
"Preferably without anything exploding," I said.
Adelgund laughed.
"No promises."
I shook my head, smiling despite myself.
It was a small promise, but I intended to keep it.
I just needed to understand how.
***
We left the blacksmith's shop and made our way toward the city gates.
Kónos walked beside me, its little feet tapping against the stone road. The grimoire rested under my arm.
I kept thinking about my promise to Adelgund.
When she needed it most.
I had no idea what the weapon would look like or whether the grimoire would allow me to create it. I didn't even know if the rules that governed Kónos would apply to something made for another person.
But I wanted to find out.
My magic had always responded to the way I drew and what I needed. Yet the more I learned, the more I realized how little I understood.
Kónos had taught me that a creation could grow beyond its original design.
Melanorus had shown me that there were forms of creation magic I had never imagined.
And now I was beginning to suspect that my own abilities had limitations I hadn't yet encountered.
I glanced down at the grimoire.
Its pages waited, blank and silent.
I had much to learn.
For now, that would have to be enough.
We passed through the city gates and followed the road toward the quest location.
The forest grew denser as we travelled. Trees crowded the roadside, their branches weaving together overhead. The others talked quietly among themselves, discussing the quest and what we might find.
I walked in silence, Kónos beside me.
Then, as the afternoon sun began to sink, we reached the site.
The location was a clearing beside a small stream, surrounded by dense trees.
At first glance, there was nothing unusual about it.
The water flowed gently over the stones. Birds called from the branches. Grass and low shrubs covered the edges of the clearing.
Yet the guild had marked the place for suspicious activity, and the previous party had never returned.
We spread out to search for clues.
I moved toward the stream, looking for tracks or disturbed ground.
Then I saw someone lying near the edge of the clearing.
A young girl.
Her clothes were torn and stained with dirt. Her face was pale, and her breathing was so shallow that I almost missed it.
"Over here!"
The others hurried toward me.
Albruna knelt beside the girl and checked her pulse.
"She's alive," she said. "Barely."
Adelgund turned toward the treeline, her hand resting on her sword. Kaede scanned the surrounding forest while Averhilda checked the nearby ground for tracks.
I knelt beside Albruna.
The girl's injuries were serious, but she was still breathing.
I drew a small circle with my G-Pen and channelled light magic into it.
The light spread gently over her body. Her breathing steadied, and some of the colour returned to her cheeks.
She stirred.
Her eyes opened.
For a moment, she stared at us without recognition. Then she tried to move away, panic flashing across her face.
"It's all right," I said. "We're adventurers from the Guild. We're here to help you."
She looked from me to the others.
Her gaze lingered on our weapons.
Then she began to cry.
"They left me."
I leaned closer.
"Who left you?"
"The adventurers I was travelling with."
Her voice trembled. She swallowed, trying to steady herself.
"They took my money. My equipment. Everything."
She looked down at her empty hands.
"Then they left me here."
Albruna exchanged a glance with Kaede.
I looked back at the girl.
"Do you know where they went?"
She shook her head.
"I don't know. I woke up here. I was alone."
Her shoulders began to shake.
"I trusted them."
I didn't know what to say.
We had found an injured girl in a remote clearing, stripped of her possessions and left without anyone to help her.
It was a terrible situation.
And it might have been connected to the missing adventuring party.
I looked toward the trees.
If the people who had done this were still nearby, we needed to find them.
But first, we had to get the girl somewhere safe.
***
We returned to Eugripēria with the injured girl.
She was still weak, so Albruna wrapped a blanket around her shoulders while Adelgund supported her as she walked. Averhilda took the lead, watching the road ahead, and Kaede stayed near the rear.
The girl had given us no name yet. She barely spoke during the journey.
I didn't press her.
Whatever had happened to her, she needed time to recover.
When we reached the Adventurers' Guild, the receptionist looked up from her ledger.
Her expression changed as soon as she saw the girl.
"Report."
Kaede stepped forward.
"We found an injured adventurer at the assigned location. She says she was travelling with another group of adventurers who took her possessions and abandoned her."
The receptionist's brow furrowed.
"The missing party?"
"Possibly. We don't know yet whether they're responsible or whether something happened to them as well."
The receptionist looked at the girl.
"Can you tell us your name?"
The girl hesitated.
"Relicta."
"And the adventurers you were travelling with?"
"I don't know if they're still there."
Her voice grew quieter.
"They left me."
The receptionist exchanged a glance with Kaede.
"Given the circumstances, we can't assume the missing party is safe, or that they're responsible for what happened to you. If they're still at the site, they may be in danger."
She turned toward the quest board and pulled down a fresh sheet of paper.
"We're issuing an urgent rescue mission. Find the missing adventurers, rescue any survivors, and investigate the suspicious activity at the site."
Kaede nodded.
"We'll take it."
The receptionist recorded the assignment and handed us the details.
Before we left, Albruna made sure Relicta had water and something to eat. Her injuries had improved, but she was still too weak to travel comfortably.
She looked at us with uncertainty.
"You're going back?"
"Yes," Kaede replied. "We're going to find out what happened."
Relicta lowered her gaze.
"I don't know if they're still alive."
"Neither do we," Kaede said. "But we'll find out."
We departed again, this time with a clearer purpose.
We were no longer simply investigating suspicious activity.
We were searching for survivors.
***
When we returned to the site, we searched more carefully.
The clearing looked much as it had before, but now I noticed details I had overlooked during our first visit.
The earth had been disturbed near the stream. Several branches had been broken, and strange marks crossed the surface of a nearby stone.
They didn't look like ordinary footprints or weapon strikes.
Kaede crouched beside one of the marks.
"Something happened here."
Averhilda examined the disturbed ground.
"Something heavy moved through this area."
We followed the traces deeper into the forest.
The trees grew closer together, and the ground became uneven. The sound of the stream faded behind us.
Then Adelgund stopped.
"Over there."
An adventurer lay beneath a tree.
His armour was damaged, and his body was covered in injuries. He was barely conscious.
We hurried to him.
Kaede knelt to examine his wounds. Albruna brought water while I took his hand.
His skin was cold.
He was dying.
For a moment, he didn't seem to notice us.
Then his eyes opened.
They moved slowly across our faces before settling on Relicta, who stood behind us.
His expression changed.
A weak smile appeared on his lips.
"Thank you," he whispered.
Relicta stared at him.
The man struggled to draw another breath.
"For saving her."
Adelgund frowned.
"Why are you thanking us? She told us her companions took her belongings and abandoned her."
The man's eyes flickered.
He tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat.
"We didn't..."
He coughed. Blood stained his lips.
"We didn't mean to abandon her."
Relicta took a step forward.
"What?"
The man looked at her.
"We found something. Something dangerous."
His voice was faint, and he had to pause between sentences.
"You were the youngest. You couldn't fight it. We thought... we thought you wouldn't survive if you came with us."
Relicta shook her head.
"Then why did you leave me?"
"We thought that place was safe."
He closed his eyes briefly, gathering what little strength remained.
"We left you somewhere we believed the danger wouldn't reach. We were going to come back for you."
He swallowed painfully.
"We took your equipment because we didn't want you following us. We thought if you had nothing to fight with, you'd stay where we left you."
His eyes opened again.
"It was a mistake."
Silence fell over us.
Relicta's face had gone pale.
"You took everything," she whispered. "I woke up alone. I didn't know where I was. I thought..."
Her voice broke.
"I thought you didn't care."
The adventurer tried to lift his hand, but it barely moved.
"We did care."
He looked at her with an expression of terrible exhaustion.
"We were trying to protect you."
He drew another shallow breath.
"But we shouldn't have left you without telling you why. We should have found another way."
Relicta stared at him.
The anger that had sustained her seemed to drain away, leaving confusion and grief in its place.
They had not simply thrown her away.
They had made a decision for her, believing they knew what was best. They had left her alone, without her equipment, in a place they thought was safe.
And whatever they had intended, she had suffered for it.
The man coughed again.
I tightened my grip on his hand.
"Where are the others?" I asked. "What did you find?"
His gaze shifted toward the deeper forest.
"Please..."
He struggled to breathe.
"Find them."
His eyes returned to Relicta.
"I'm sorry."
Then his hand went still.
For a moment, none of us moved.
Albruna lowered her head. Kaede closed the man's eyes while Averhilda stood watch, her expression grim.
Relicta sank to her knees.
She didn't scream or shout. She simply stared at the man who had tried to protect her, tears falling silently down her face.
I knelt beside her, but I didn't know what to say.
She had believed her companions had betrayed her.
Now she knew they had cared about her, but that knowledge did not undo what had happened.
They had tried to protect her.
They had made a terrible decision.
And now one of them was dead.
Kaede stood.
"We'll find the others."
Relicta wiped her face with the back of her hand.
"What if they're dead too?"
Kaede looked toward the forest.
"Then we'll find out what happened to them."
She turned to the rest of us.
"We continue carefully. Whatever they found, it was dangerous enough to leave an entire party missing."
I looked at the dead adventurer.
He had used his last moments to ask us to find his companions.
We would honour that request.
But we would also find out what had happened here.
The danger was real. The mystery remained.
And somewhere ahead, the rest of the missing party might still be waiting for help.
***
We buried the adventurer near the clearing, beneath a tree overlooking the stream.
We had no way of knowing his full name or where he came from. We did what we could, laying him to rest with the care he deserved.
When we finished, Relicta sat apart from us.
Her knees were drawn to her chest, and her eyes were still red from crying. She had nothing but the clothes on her back and the blanket Albruna had given her.
I watched her for a moment.
Then I remembered my promise to Adelgund.
I had said I would try to draw a weapon for someone else when they needed it most.
Perhaps this was the moment to begin.
Relicta had no weapon. She had no equipment. And we were about to continue into a dangerous area.
I opened the grimoire and sat beside her.
"Relicta?"
She looked up.
"What is it?"
"I want to try something. You said you used a staff before, didn't you?"
She nodded hesitantly.
"I wasn't very good with it."
"That's all right. You don't need to be an expert. I just want to make something you can use to defend yourself."
She looked at the grimoire.
"You can make weapons?"
"I'm still learning."
I turned to a blank page.
"What matters is that you feel comfortable holding it. If this works, it should be something you can use without having to learn an entirely new fighting style."
Relicta looked down at her hands.
"All right."
I began to draw.
A staff.
Simple and light, with a smooth shaft and a balanced grip. Nothing elaborate. Nothing designed for an experienced warrior. I wanted something Relicta could hold without struggling with its weight.
The lines formed beneath my G-Pen.
I concentrated on the shape, the balance, and the way the staff would fit into her hands.
When I finished, I signed the page.
Sayaka.
The ink shimmered.
Then it rose from the paper, flowing into the air before us. The lines twisted together, darkening and solidifying until a staff appeared in front of Relicta.
It was beautiful in its simplicity, its surface smooth and pale, with the same starlit blue that marked my other creations.
For a moment, I felt a flicker of excitement.
It had worked.
I had drawn a weapon for someone other than myself.
"Relicta," I said, "try taking it."
She reached out.
Her fingers closed around the staff.
And it vanished.
Not gradually.
Not like Kónos's armour dissolving back into ink.
One moment, the staff was there. The next, it was gone.
A few flecks of ink scattered through the air before disappearing.
Relicta stared at her empty hands.
I stared at the space where the staff had been.
Neither of us spoke.
Then Relicta looked at me.
"What did I do wrong?"
Her voice was small.
I opened my mouth, but no answer came.
"You didn't do anything wrong," I said at last.
I hoped it was true.
I looked down at the grimoire.
The drawing had worked. The staff had manifested. I had felt the magic flow through the lines and watched the ink become something solid.
Yet the moment Relicta touched it, the creation had disappeared.
Why?
I thought of Kónos.
I had drawn the doll, signed it, and brought it into existence. It had remained with me ever since. It had learned, adapted, and fought beside me.
But Kónos had been my creation from the beginning.
Was that the difference?
Perhaps my magic could create weapons only for those who were connected to me. Perhaps the grimoire recognized Kónos as something I had made for myself, while Relicta was someone I had only just met.
Or perhaps I was misunderstanding the rules entirely.
I had only tried this once.
One failed experiment wasn't enough to tell me what my magic could or couldn't do.
Still, the result troubled me.
I had thought that if I could draw something, I could give it to someone who needed it.
Now I wasn't so sure.
I closed the grimoire.
"I'm sorry," I told Relicta. "I thought it would work."
She looked down at her empty hands.
"Is it because I'm not good enough?"
"No."
The answer came more quickly than I expected.
I met her eyes.
"This wasn't your fault. I don't understand why it happened, but I'll figure it out."
She studied me for a moment, then nodded.
I wished I could offer her something more than a promise.
For now, I could at least make sure she wasn't left behind again.
"We'll stay together," I told her. "You won't have to face whatever is out there alone."
Relicta lowered her head, holding the blanket closer around her shoulders.
"Thank you."
I returned the grimoire to its place under my arm.
Kónos stood beside me, its button eyes reflecting the fading light.
I looked at the doll, then at the blank pages of the grimoire.
I had named Kónos for its effort, for its determination to keep trying.
Now I would have to do the same.
I didn't know why the staff had vanished. I didn't know what the missing adventurers had discovered, or what waited deeper in the forest.
But I knew one thing.
I couldn't allow my first failure to become my final answer.
Creation was not as simple as I had believed.
And if I wanted to understand my magic, I would have to keep trying.
What will happen next...
Find out in the next chapter, same place, same time.
