Unnamed Memory

The encounter was probably a coincidence.

It's a coincidence, and I guess that's why I've annoyed them for so long. As if the unseen malice had intervened somewhere. - It's always such a coincidence to move history.

The two of them came out of town that day just to avoid people trying to open the portal. Tinasha, holding a bunch of cloth she bought out in both hands, looks up to her husband beside her as the building sparkles and instead more trees lead to the woods.

"So do you want to go home? Don't you forget something?

"I don't think so. - And wait a minute."

"Yes?"

She was about to widen the configuration when she heard the first reply, fixing the metastasis gate of the makeover as it was. I leaned my neck toward Oscar, who held a pile of cloth more than I did.

"What's going on?

"Something's coming"

At the same time as the terminal response, all the cloth he had disappeared. Tinasha, who then also erased the cloth she held, narrows her eyes and looks behind the woods. A slight sign that I wouldn't have known if I hadn't told you, was certainly approaching along with an unrestrained footstep. She raises her fingertips lighting up the composition.

- In a town like this, there's no way you run into something so strange.

Though she thought so, Tinasha placed tremendous trust in her husband's account. If he calls attention, he can't be just a beast or a child. She sets up a narrow, narrow attack configuration so that she can shoot at any time.

At that time, from beyond the distant trees, one child rolled out.

With the wind as if he had escaped from buying people, he came running over fallen leaves with no scratched limbs. Oscar saw it and walked toward the child. You noticed in the footsteps of stepping on the grass, the kid turns up.

"... eh"

The child stuffing his breath looked lost, whether or not he should move on momentarily.

Wondering about that reaction, Tinasha is distracted by another thought.

It's like unspoken vision.

She shot out the composition, wondering why she felt such a thing when she saw the face of a child around the age of ten who was thinly dirty. A light that sews through the gaps in the trees leads right through the Oscar to the child who stopped his leg. - And as it was, I bounced off one of the guys who showed up after the kid.

The body of a man who jumped without screaming is struck by the rear trunk.

An Oscar, who was packing the distance in between, reached out his left hand and grabbed the collar of the child who was trying to escape. Releasing his skinny body behind his back, he turns to three more men coming towards him, flashing his right hand with nothing. Short screams overlapped in the dim woods.

In an attack with no one at all, the frightened child again tries to escape the scene.

But the hand of the approaching witch grabbed his chin. Dark eyes peek at its face.

- This was the meeting between the two of us.

When Senor woke up from a nostalgic dream, a woman of the Spirit sat on the back of the bench where he lay on his back.

The woman peering into him with dark eyes, just as she did at the beginning, groans in a flat voice, "Are you awake?" As if to a vain voice, Senault woke his body without answering directly. Hand up sweaty forehead.

"- I had an old dream"

"When?"

"When I first met you."

When I only spoke of it, the expression disappeared from the face of the Spirit. The woman, who was originally faceless, seems to have become even more colorless, and Senor has feelings similar to guilt. The "he" story among ourselves was implicitly viewed as contraindicated, and the impudence that nearly broke it drove him back to the boy ten years ago during the restraint.

Senault, now king, rises to his desk, where his work remains.

On its back, a woman's dry voice arrived.

"You look like me."

"... what, suddenly"

The cracked voice in the fall covered up his slight upset successfully though. Senault looks back and stares at the woman.

Years since I first saw her, fine dust hasn't changed, but now it seemed like another being from the ground up. An indelible nothingness is placed within the shape of a woman.

The woman of the Spirit spinned a pale, emotionless word.

"I thought it the first time I saw it. Don't look like me."

"So what. I wish I hadn't helped you?

- Without that coincidence, "he" would still be beside the woman.

The woman glanced at the question, not conscious but seeping through criticism, as surprised. That's how I shake it.

Shaking her long lashes and closing her eyes, she smiled beautifully at her mouth.

"It was his will that helped you."

Only for one moment her appearance was filled with deep love and pride, and Senault envied it.

Maybe I'm much better suited to those who serve it than the king.

It seemed that by looking at and thinking of a woman of the Spirit who resembled herself, the woman who was once a queen, was first and foremost to accompany her king obediently, as if she had forgotten her past.

Of course he is not a senor with his king, but his distant ancestors. The king, who secretly thinks he would have liked to serve a great king himself, looks over the plain that extends from above the walls of the fort. There we could see an army moving side-by-side with horse heads, and we could see a flag flying that also showed a high degree of war in the camp.

Senor looks up at the woman floating in the universe before the approaching of the army led by her blood relatives.

"Well, what do we do..."

"I'll do it"

The instant answer voice was bouncing with joy. When she smiles happy, she puts her hands together in front of her face.

"I'll do it. I'll do it. I'll do it. - How many can I kill?

Senault takes an inner sigh of relief at the unusual reactions of a woman who is both willing and cold every day.

After all, she hasn't forgotten. who killed his own king.

Then you won't be able to stop it. I'm not even willing to stop it from happening. That's why I have her.

And the woman of the Spirit turned to him the eyes of the king, when she came to the scabbard with her knee in black. An awesome grin dyes a beautiful look.

"-Come on, command me. Lord of the King's Sword."

Is there anything about meeting at an early age that will shape your whole life?

At least that encounter was a coincidence. Don't worry, it's a coincidence, "he" said.

Yet they still stand in the dark, pinching their loss.

Senault ordered with the voice of the ice itself, looking at his emotions, which were getting farther and farther away.

"Twenty-three. Whoever has the title, and all his kinsmen. Can you tell?

"Yes."

"Then go. Come and mow that neck."

White feet kick the walls.

Thus the Spirit withdrew the tail of a light laugh and vanished to the battlefield.

Before a settled end, Senault pulls out the King of the Hips sword when he gently clasps his shoulders. - I put it straight and put it back behind me. Several people who had killed footsteps and approached the king make their faces a little harder.

Senault looked ridiculously at the traitors who would not have been able to come out because she had been there before.

"What's up? You're not coming?

"... King, you are insane"

"I know."

The fact that I look like that woman must be crazy from the beginning.

I lost my toothpick. That's why I keep turning until I die. Until the swelling shadow smears itself.

- If that's a coincidence, I'll spit on fate and such.

Senor puts Acacia in his hand and makes him step out of his bloody feet.

I thought I heard a witch laugh in the distance.