Ophelia said this with great bravado.
Her words were clear—she was asking Alei to write the coordinates.
But after hearing this, Alei’s expression wasn’t exactly good.
She wanted him to write the coordinates?
‘I didn’t know it would end up like this so I can’t say anything.’
Looking at Ophelia’s face that was full of confidence, Alei dropped his head like a sinner.
Even after he had lost his memories, he knew that he was well-versed in magic, but there was one thing that he couldn’t do.
Creating coordinates for teleportation circles.
And calculating coordinates was something that made Alei a low-ranked mage.
When Alei worked at the Imperial Palace, he once had to calculate coordinates for a teleportation circle.
—What is this? Don’t tell me these are coordinates?
—That’s right.
—Alei. Do you think this is an instant teleportation spell? Did you use the right formula?
—Yes. I derived the coordinates through the given formula.
—Don’t talk nonsense. You used the formula and this came out? I’m already struggling because there’s not enough time, but a low-ranked mage like you is even arguing with me about this?
His boss was already on a tight schedule so he was getting annoyed real fast, but Alei pulled the last straw.
And this came as a brand new shock to Alei.
Obviously, he used the formula he remembered to derive the coordinates.
However, no matter which mage he went to, they all said that his coordinates and his calculation methods were absurd.
If he had his memories, would he have been able to explain it?
Alei, who initially didn’t believe in what the others told him, eventually had to swallow his opinion in the face of many contradicting voices.
He became sure that what he recalled was wrong.
This incited something beyond just doubting himself for the calculation. It even made him doubt all his memories.
And it instilled the possibility that what he knew was wrong.
At this, Alei was left intimidated. The reason why he’d been hiding his skills for all these years was also because of the same reason.
He wasn’t confident to take on huge responsibilities. He was just pretending to be humble.
Even at this moment, his pride refused to bend.
‘I didn’t want to be caught, not by her.’
There was something that Ophelia often said whenever they were together.
—You’re amazing, Alei.
When she said these words, her voice would hold no pretense, only sincerity.
For the past five years of him not having his memories, these words were like a welcome rain drizzling over the drought that was his confidence.
Even if this wasn’t something she’d consider a deal, Alei wanted to grant Ophelia’s request.
It would be nice to hear those words again, for him to be helpful to her.
But the one thing she asked was something that he couldn’t do.
To say that he couldn’t do it… it felt like his throat had closed up.
But he couldn’t bring himself to deceive her, so with difficulty, Alei opened his lips.
“Ophelia, truthfully, I… I can’t derive coordinates for teleportation circles. No—I can, but the coordinates I get are…”
“They’re coordinates that can’t be used—that’s what everyone else said, right?”
As she asked back, Alei looked up.
“How did you…”
“I already know your methods are unique. It’s not your fault.”
It’s just that mediocre people couldn’t see through a genius’ perspective.
“And the person we’ll send your coordinates to will definitely understand the way you’ll write it.”
“How can you guarantee that?”
“I can guarantee it. The person who’ll receive the letter is a mage from the tower, and your methods are used in that same tower.”
Ophelia answered cynically.
Of course, she knew about Alei’s coordinates.
After he regained his memories in Ronen and right before he left, Ophelia overheard their conversation.
Yennit had quite a husky voice, but it was the first time Ophelia heard her speak in such a high-pitched tone.
—You didn’t use teleportation circles because you thought your coordinates were wrong? Does that even make sense? Here, give it a try!
—Well, there’s nowhere for me to draw a magic circle, and I was busy with work. I thought I’d fail anyway, so I didn’t want to put any effort into it.
—But it would have been great if you tried once! Then we could have met even earlier.
—I know, you’re right. Why didn’t I back then… Well. That’s that.
While Yennit was frustrated, Alei just told her that he didn’t know why he never tried it, then he changed the subject.
But Ophelia somehow felt why Alei made that choice.
He was disappointed.
He felt that he was going to fail no matter what he did.
After a small blunder akin to getting a papercut, the idea was instilled that everything he did would fail.
It was something that Ophelia also felt, and so she could see it in him.
And she could guess it without difficulty.
Even if he didn’t realize it, it was a fact that he was dejected.
‘That’s why as much as possible, I didn’t want to make anything difficult for Alei.’
Of course, that wasn’t the only reason.
Because a mage would soon come from the tower, she wanted to see who it was first before welcoming Yennit.
But Ophelia couldn’t afford to be relaxed now.
Every time she recalled who she had been running away from just a while ago, her fingertips would go cold.
If it hadn’t been for Ian knowing what happened between the two of them, Ophelia wouldn’t be this agitated.
Ophelia bit the inside of her cheek. Then, she approached Alei and took his hand.
“Alei, look at me. Remember when I said I didn’t trust you?”
Alei’s expression crumpled.
“That, suddenly, why…”
“If I don’t trust you, then it means it’s okay if you fail. Because even if you do, it won’t be of any harm to you.”
“You want me to take it easy because it’s harmless to me?”
The distorted expression on Alei’s face showed an unusual anger.
He was at his limit.
Hearing that if he were to fail, it would be harmless—this pushed him to that limit even more.
“Ophelia, you’re just—”
He stopped mid-sentence because his breath was caught.
If it was Ophelia holding his hand earlier, it was the other way around now.
Alei grabbed Ophelia’s hand and wrist. Her hand was easily bound because of the difference in size.
Then, the distance between them diminished. With an expression that was a cross between anger and pain, Alei asked.
“You already know what’s going to happen, but are you telling me to do something that might cut off your limbs¹?”
“Rather than waiting for those limbs to fall off, isn’t this better?”
“No, I’m even more afraid of that. You don’t understand, I—I’m afraid of…”
I’m afraid of losing you.
Alei’s words were cut short there.
At that moment, it felt like a missing puzzle piece within Alei found its place.
Why was he so annoyed by Ophelia?
Because Ophelia was the one who could leave him any time.
Would it have been better for him to hold onto dandelion seeds instead?
He wanted to deny it so much, this longing for a person who could leave him any time.
However, there was no way to escape this feeling.
Ophelia’s hand slipped out from Alei’s weakened grip.
Then, she held both of Alei’s hands together again.
“Alei. I understand what you’re afraid of. But you have to understand this—there are many other things that can break me, but not you.”
No one else but you can save me.
“Only you.”
Helplessly captivated by her blue eyes, Alei listened to her hushed voice.
Looking into those two eyes that resembled the vast ocean as she held both his hands together like that, Alei’s head bowed down as he had a vague thought.
Perhaps he knew how those waves felt as they would covet the shore.
* * *
The end of the month approached.
Alei looked out the window, then he turned back into the room.
It wasn’t his room, and apart from him, there was someone else sleeping on the bed.
Listening to the even breaths was soft, familiar. Sitting next to the bed, he looked over to the sleeping person illuminated gently by the moonlight.
It was the woman with blue eyes, which were now hidden beneath her lids as she slept.
¹ What Alei meant here is ‘driving someone to the brink of death’ but the words used involved ‘limbs’, that’s why I translated his dialogue that way instead for Ophelia’s response to make sense.