The Girl Who Fell from the Polar Star

Chapter 28: A Normal Day

April 18, 2023

“Miss Stella,” Marie said, “There’s a letter from Mr. Mace.”

“I’ll see to it. Thank you.”

Stella took the letter from the Company’s messenger.

Before opening it, a sip of coffee. Then a sigh.

‘Stop sighing and open it already, eh!’

“What’s the rush? It’s still going to be the same letter whether I read it now or in a few seconds.”

Still, Stella opened the envelope and took out the letter. It was a status report of the Company’s activities.

“Mace is actually thinking things through. That’s what I like to see.”

‘What about me, eh? I’m getting jealous!’

“Oh, I like to see you too, Clever,” Stella said, chuckling.

‘Yipee!’

Stella softly stroked Clever’s plumes, eliciting an expression of pure bliss. She skimmed the letter again.

“With the continent in turmoil and everything in a constant state of uncertainty, taking over the town would be a reckless move,” Mace had written. His current plan was to wait for Greggs to pick a side and capitalize on that. It would happen soon.

“Not bad,” Stella said. She looked up at the messenger. “Tell your president that the consultant approves, and that I wish him good luck.”

The messenger nodded curtly and hurried on his way without a word. He was probably aware that Stella was, to all intents and purposes, Mace’s boss. You’ve done a good job training your underlings, Mace.

“Clever, tell me,” Stella said. “Is this a time of peace? Or is it the calm before the storm?”

‘Keke! ’Ow would I know, eh? All I know is there’s nothing better than peace!’ Clever started chirping.

The world would never truly know peace, and Clever probably knew that. Humans were unable to live without conflict. It was a catalyst for the development of technologies to make life easier and better. Those technologies created wealth, which in turn sparked new conflict. It was a beautifully crafted cycle.

“You’re right on that count,” Stella said, smiling at Clever. He smiled back.

As they sat there, Typica suddenly burst into the living room. “Stop plotting with the evil bird and listen!”

‘Evil?! That’s not very nice, eh! I’m technically a Sacred Beast!’

Typica snorted. “I’m not going to believe that nonsense just because you can speak. If you’re so sacred, then why don’t you do something for the good of society? . . . Wait, no, I’m getting sidetracked. Stella, why have you not gone jogging today?”

“It was raining too hard this morning. Getting soaked would be a pretty stupid use of my time.”

“It was, but not anymore.”

“Well, it’s too late to go now. I’d have less time to dedicate to my magic training. Which is my priority, really.”

“Never mind all that. Let’s go outside. I want to jog with you.”

“Were you listening? I said—”

“Go on, get ready! I’ll be waiting outside, in the fresh air!”

Why had she bothered to frame it as an invitation if she would drag Stella out either way? That was funny—but what a willful girl. Stella considered saying no, and images of Typica stamping her feet flashed in her brain. Sighing, she nodded instead. She suspected the girl wasn’t going to let up until she got her way. And that, though a funny prospect, would have gotten in the way of Stella’s training.

“I’ll go change, then,” Stella said. “Wait for me. I won’t be long.”

“Thank you. To tell you the truth, I just want us to have some time to talk.”

“Sure, but can’t we do that here? Why do we need to go jogging?”

“I love the musky smell of fresh rain, and I like to watch as the dark clouds dissolve into the sky. We need to talk outside!”

“You’re a pretty simple girl, aren’t you?”

“I hear that often! Just please don’t call me a boar, because I hate that!”

Well, Typica was just like a boar. A charging demon with golden tails. Poor Varrell, Stella thought. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to be hunted by this relentless beast. It was a miracle he’d made it to this town. Or was it? He was quite skilled with that sword of his. Maybe trouble had thought twice before standing in his way.

Stella had long since started jogging as well as walking in the mornings. It had added an extra layer of difficulty to her daily exercise, increasing the demand on her body and allowing her to become stronger more effectively. She’d lightly jog to the little river where she’d gone fishing with Rye, rest on its bank, then jog back for as much of the way as she could manage. The round trip was about an hour. This might not be impressive, but for Stella it was a huge progress. When she’d started out, she could barely walk for a few minutes without losing her breath.

Today, Stella jogged side by side with Typica. As Typica was technically on bodyguard duty, she had her light armor on and her swords at her sides. The gear didn’t seem to weigh her down at all—far from it. Casually humming a melody, she drew her swords from time to time to do practice swings on the move. She also told stories of her travels, but Stella was having trouble focusing on those. Not because they weren’t interesting—they were—but because there seemed to be no end to them. I’m getting fatigued faster than usual. They’d picked up the pace without her realizing it. The return trip would be difficult.

Stella tried to slacken the pace, but Typica moved behind her back, essentially pushing her forward.

“I can’t . . . go . . . this fast!” Stella said in between gasps for air.

“Nonsense,” Typica said. “When you think you’re at your limit, you push it one step further! That’s what I was taught!”

“Well . . . I . . . wasn’t!”

“It’s never too late to learn! Come on! We’re almost there!”

Stella could ignore Typica and slow down to a walk, but she didn’t. Why? There was no logical reason. It would have simply been frustrating. Clenching her teeth, Stella exerted every muscle in her body. She was going to regret this. The return trip would be a nightmare, and the extreme fatigue would make it hard to concentrate on her magic training. Well, all things considered, at least this was a nice change of pace.

“You did splendidly,” Typica said. “You’re much tougher than you look. I was sure you’d be crying halfway through, but you’ve impressed me!”

“Thanks . . . a lot.”

Stella lay on her back beside the river, breathing with her whole body. Typica wiped the sweat off her brow and took a swig of water from the wooden canteen on her belt. She offered it to Stella, who quaffed it greedily. The water was tepid and stale, but she desperately needed it.

“You surprise me every day, Stella,” Typica said. “You’re so mature for your age.”

“Am I?”

“You’re only ten, yet you somehow manage to keep everyone together. That’s amazing.”

“Well, I’m their master. It’s my duty.”

“Duty or not, it’s not something just anyone can do. I’m saying it, therefore it’s true! You’re doing a great job!”

What’s gotten into her? In any case, one thing was certain: Stella was being praised. “I appreciate the compliment,” she said. “Anyway, didn’t you have something you wanted to talk about?”

“Yes. I was wondering why my brother, whose only concern is training in swordsmanship, is working for a child. It must be one of the seven wonders of the world, because I wonder about it so much that I can’t sleep at night.”

What did that even mean?

First of all, Typica’s claim that she couldn’t sleep at night was an outright lie. She slept like a log every night, snoring so loudly that Stella was planning to eventually exile her to the restaurant. For the moment, however, she stayed as a guard.

Something else also nagged at Stella. What were these seven wonders of the world, and what were the other six supposed to be? This seemed like a topic that would take hours to fully unravel, though, so she decided not to ask.

“Do you want to know it that badly?” Stella asked.

“I do! This knowledge may allow me to strike that odious man where it hurts the most.”

So Typica wanted revenge. Well, she would be disappointed.

Stella snapped her fingers, summoning Clever. He always watched over Stella from high above while they were outside, even when she was with Varrell. He was her ally, and he would never betray her, no matter what.

Clever soared down, and Stella snatched her Magic Crystal from his claws. She showed it to Typica. “This is probably the reason.”

“What’s that?!”

“It’s my Magic Crystal. Oh my, what’s wrong with your face? You’re scaring me.”

“That . . . it’s an amalgamation of evil— No, it’s blight itself in crystal form!”

“I take it you don’t like it very much.”

“Could it be the Starsphere Dima was talking about? But why does it still exist?! It was supposed to have been destroyed . . .”

Typica took a step backward. Good instincts. I suppose she’s more than just a wild boar.

“Your brother is really interested in this thing,” Stella said. “And working for me was the perfect excuse to keep a close eye on it.”

“. . . I see.”

Stella grinned. “I don’t know what his goals are, but I can’t wait to find out.” What would Varrell decide to do, in the end? Stella’s grin turned into a soft chuckle. The Magic Crystal is unbreakable. If he wants to destroy it, well, I might let him try.

“So you’re not willing to part with it?” Typica asked.

“I’m not. Who would part with their own memories? This is as much me as I am.”

“Even so, it’s something that no human should possess. No—it shouldn’t even exist. Do you understand that?”

“No matter what you or anyone else says, this is mine. It took a long time, and many sacrifices, for us to create these fragments. Rest assured, though—I promise to destroy it when I die. I believe that’s my responsibility. As a human.”

Typica didn’t answer.

“Well, suit yourself,” Stella said, “I don’t need you to believe me.”

“I believe you,” Typica said. “In that case, I’ll do the same as my brother and remain with you. I’ll watch over that crystal until your death!”

Stella was baffled. What makes her think she’ll outlive me? “Not to rain on your parade, but that’s going to be fifty years from now. I doubt you’ll live that long.”

In response, Typica puffed out her chest. “Never worry, for I shall live to be a hundred!”

Wow. This girl’s brain really is something else. Stella’s many questions aside, it would seem Typica was willing to stay with her for a while longer. Witless though she may be, she could at least work as a guard. And with her so close by, Varrell should refrain from making any risky moves.

“By the way, have you ever seen something that looks like my crystal?” Stella asked.

“I haven’t seen it, but I’ve heard about it from my younger brother.”

“You have a younger brother?”

“His name is Dima. He’s a member of the Astral Church who’s married into a noble family, and he and his wife are currently ruling over their lands like a happy couple. A runt with a glib tongue, that’s what he is. It’s infuriating. How dare that cheeky midget get married before I do!”

By the end of her last sentence, Typica was shrieking. Just like that, her misgivings were completely forgotten. Stella couldn’t tell if that meant she was stupid or merely quick to move on. Probably stupid.

Typica had a brother in the Astral Church, then. Good to know. Talking to people is great, Stella thought. You learn all kinds of new things. Typica probably had more useful information. Getting it out of her, however, would entail no small amount of dealing with her difficult personality.

Stella sighed. “I wonder why I’m so tired.”

“Incidentally, Stella,” Typica said. “My swords aren’t any redder now than they were before. Would you care to explain? This is not what you promised!”

Typica was already talking about something else. And she’d forgotten an important detail.

“I can turn them red right now if you really want me to,” Stella said. “As I think I’ve told you, though, it takes a while for the color to become permanent. Unless you let your swords sit there for a while, it’ll come off easily.”

“Now that you mention it, I do remember something of the sort. I’ll be patient, then.” After a pause, Typica added, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but won’t exposing my swords to your crystal imbue them with some sort of malign curse?”

Had it taken her this long to notice?

“Well, obviously,” Stella said. “If you haven’t noticed, Varrell’s sword is also cursed. To the point, in fact, that it would probably drive lesser men insane.”

“What . . . ?”

“You had no idea what you were asking for? You never cease to amaze, do you?”

Stella curled her lips into a smirk as Typica screamed out an indignant retort. Then, lying back down, she looked up at the sky. The weather had finally cleared up, rain clouds having been dispersed by the wind and given way to the sun with its sweltering light. Stella went outside practically every day these days, but her pale skin stalwartly refused to sport a tan. The day she would stop being called a corpse was still a long way to come.