Bernadette shook her head quickly, pulling her thoughts back into line — but one particular idea refused to let go.
I forbade him from bathing in my body, while I've been bathing twice a day in his. Father would have had a word for that — "double standards."
Putting herself in his position: bathing every day was simply a matter of staying clean. She had to believe that the man probably, most likely, almost certainly… felt the same way.
She frowned, picked up the pages of notes, and unfolded them. This particular experience — exchanging letters with herself — was a novelty she'd never had before.
The handwriting was clean and precise, rendered in Runic script. Compared to how most people wrote Runes — crooked, cramped, clearly learned from a scroll or a ritual rather than genuine practice — this man's script was quite good.
Father had once said: a person's character can be glimpsed in their handwriting.
Though Father's own writing was… something else entirely.
Flamboyant. And terrible. Genuinely terrible.
"Dear Miss Bernadette:
First and foremost — I am deeply sorry for intruding on your life and occupying your body. But please believe me when I say that I am a victim in this too.
Three days ago, when I saw your message, I was genuinely relieved — because on the matter of this body exchange, our thinking was almost entirely aligned. We both arrived immediately at the same conclusion: that building trust is the foundation of getting through this ordeal together.
I believe that is a very good start.
As for the rules you set out, I adhered to all of them strictly over these three days. I have also been working as hard as I can on the language study you requested, prioritising Enochian and Hermes as you suggested.
The former is the more widely used language in your world, and the latter is tied directly to extraordinary abilities — both seemed of the highest importance. Unfortunately, three days is simply not long enough. Progress has been modest."
Bernadette turned to the next page.
"The three days were otherwise set to pass in quiet study — but then something unexpected occurred. One of your subordinates arrived without warning on the second day. (I suspect your relationship may be rather closer than that.)
Don't worry — I believe I managed to avoid giving myself away in front of her. This was not due to any acting ability on my part, but because the impression you had already made on her was so strong. I could feel her affection for you, and her wariness of you — and even if I did something slightly wrong, she likely didn't dare allow herself to doubt.
For instance: I had her stay the night, and when she discovered that her old room had been completely filled with food and ingredients, she raised no objection at all. She found somewhere to sleep there regardless, and she looked genuinely pleased and content."
Something in Bernadette gave an almost imperceptible stir. She pressed her brow together immediately, wondering whether seven days spent in a stranger's body had simply made her more sensitive.
"She came this time to deliver a puzzle box — and given that you had specifically warned me about the dangers of this world, I kept my distance from it from the start.
The man called the King of the Five Seas also said it was extremely dangerous. He mentioned that your father had specifically instructed Nast and his father never to let curiosity get the better of them, and never to let it fall into anyone else's hands — especially not the descendants of Solomon, the Night Emperor, or the Blood Emperor.
But when I woke on the second morning, the puzzle box — which had been sitting perfectly intact on the desk — had come apart on its own. Inside it was a compass."
On its own?
A compass?
Bernadette rose from the sofa and moved toward the writing desk — then stumbled slightly and only just caught herself.
She went still, frowning. Her body felt faintly off — a mild, hard-to-place discord. Not the body itself, perhaps, but the soul. Was this what happened when you grew accustomed to someone else's body and found yourself ill at ease in your own?
How utterly absurd.
When the feeling faded, she crossed to the writing desk and looked down at the black compass. Her expression shifted: she recognised it. This was one of Father's creations — one of his little trinkets, as he'd called them. He had joked about it at the time, saying it was a "wish compass": when you held it in your hand, the needle would point toward what your heart desired most.
After her falling-out with Father, she had never seen it again. She hadn't expected it to be in Nast's possession.
Her original reason for sending Cattleya to find Nast had been to ask about the Black Throne — there were rumours that Nast's Black Emperor was the old Black Throne, and the visit had been a roundabout way of pressing him on it. Nast, in return, had sent back this compass.
"When I discovered the box had opened, I knew something was wrong and tried immediately to get away from it — but I still ended up caught, somehow. My soul was pulled into a room with no colour.
It was a grey room, roughly the shape of a sitting room. At first nothing seemed unusual — until a strange set of scales appeared.
Based on a response from my spirituality instincts (yes — it seems that strange room is partly responsible for this, but I now have my own spirituality), the scales gave me a particular extraordinary ability. As long as I 'facilitate transactions or cooperation between others, I can receive certain benefits.' Since there was no one else on the island with me, I haven't yet been able to test what this means in practice."
Bernadette's expression grew more serious: a puzzle box that opened on its own. Father's compass. A mysterious room bound to a soul. A set of scales demanding that others be brought together in deals and alliances.
Every element of it radiated danger. It had the look of bait set by a Fallen Creator — a hook waiting for someone to bite, and once bitten, there would be no end to the consequences.
Was this why Nast had handed it over? Was he rid of it, and now it had become her problem?
But the compass was Father's invention. How could it possibly have anything to do with a Fallen Creator?
She couldn't draw conclusions from a secondhand account. She read on.
"There is also a piece of good news: after sensing my own spirituality, a vast quantity of occult knowledge and extraordinary abilities surfaced in my mind automatically. As a result, all of your extraordinary abilities have been unlocked. The bad news is that my spirituality is extremely thin — what I can practically use is quite limited.
After a full day of testing: lower-Sequence abilities can be used without issue. Mid-Sequence abilities can be accessed in part, though with reduced potency and effect. Higher-Sequence abilities are simply beyond what I can sustain."
At this, Bernadette felt an unexpected flicker of irritation. Why was she unable to use that man's magic, while he could use her extraordinary abilities?
Before, when neither of them could use the other's abilities, it hadn't bothered her. But now —
Somehow, that feels deeply unfair.
She tightened her hand around the compass, drew a long breath, and turned to the last page.
"All right. I have to admit it: compared to what I'm about to tell you, everything in the previous two pages may amount to nothing. Please brace yourself.
Let me say in advance — I am innocent. I did everything in my power to keep away from anything potentially dangerous."
Bernadette's heart gave a slight lurch. Her eyelid twitched.
"While exploring the mysterious room, I somehow found myself in an ancient palace filled with grey mist.
At the centre of the palace was a long bronze table. At the head of it sat a mysterious being shrouded in mist, who… referred to itself as 'the Fool.' It appears to be what you once described as… a Fallen Creator."
Bernadette's pupils contracted.
A Fallen Creator.
This was worse than she'd imagined.
"Don't worry — the 'Fallen Creator' did not threaten me or harm me. It simply invited me to join its 'organisation.'"
Don't accept.
"I accepted."
Bernadette: ╯°□°╯︵ ┻━┻
To be continued…
