Ingrid continued searching for something—anything—that might at least mentally free her from this prison. It was ironic that the only memory that came to mind was of a rather strange conversation.
It had happened only a few days ago...
The season had been cold, and the long hours of rain had made for gloomy days. In the midst of it all, a friend she held in particularly high regard had brought her a rather silly question.
"Bored, bored! Don't you think everything is just... Huh? How do I put it...? Hmm. Ah! Monotonous, yes! Don't you think everything is so mo-no-to-nous?!" her friend complained, staring irritably at the sky.
"Ugh, Eidal, stop yelling in my ear. And don't get so close."
She pushed him away.
Sitting together in the middle of an open field, the two of them were having an ordinary conversation, just as they did every day. Her good friend Eidal was a year younger than her. He had fair skin that matched the brown hair fluttering around his face. He always wore a thin, dark sweater, mostly made of wool. According to Eidal, it was comfortable to wear on both hot and cold days, though Ingrid had her doubts.
"But I'm right, aren't I, Ingrid?"
"Hmph. I don't understand what you're complaining about."
"I mean, it'd be fun if something happened. If the days were different!"
What's gotten into him now? Ingrid wondered.
"Hah! I bet if things actually changed, you'd start missing the old days. Ah! Fine, stop looking at me like that! I'll play along. What kind of different days are you talking about?"
"Um... I don't know. Maybe one where some great threat approaches the world and you have to go on an adventure to save it. Oh, I know! Better yet, a mysterious disease could spread across all the races and bring them under its control, forcing them to attack everyone else! Like an invasion! Don't you think I'd make a good protagonist?"
A good protagonist? Ingrid thought.
To be honest, she seriously doubted Eidal could be the protagonist of a story.
Especially not one like that.
"In short, an apocalyptic scenario that would let you become the center of attention. I think you're becoming a very simple man."
"But you don't have to put it like that! I'm not a simple person, you know? I'll work hard and become ama—... Ahem. I'll definitely become a great man! I'll die a legend!"
Although Eidal pretended to clear his throat halfway through his sentence, Ingrid understood what he had actually been about to say.
After all, the boy had always strived for recognition, both from other people and from her. Ingrid had reached that conclusion after observing her friend's actions for a long time.
"You work so hard just to be accepted, huh?" she murmured to herself.
But even she could see how this would end.
None of your efforts will matter, and that's because there's a reason far more powerful than usefulness for why the villagers won't accept you.
She had learned about it from her grandfather.
It was an absurd superstition held by the people of the Kingdom of Longer concerning orphans in general.
What a stupid thing to believe, she thought irritably. Thinking of Eidal as some kind of bad omen. How ridiculous.
So Eidal wasn't being discriminated against because he was useless, but because he was an orphan.
And it was something that couldn't be fixed, no matter what he did.
None of your efforts will matter. It's funny how the people involved are always the last to find out.
In fact, Eidal's confusion over the concept of usefulness had already caused them several problems in the past. Whenever Ingrid remembered those days, a certain discomfort would creep through her.
That plan to get Mr. Albert to accept Eidal as his son caused more problems than it solved.
But that was a story for another time...
Shaking off the bitter taste of that unpleasant adventure, Ingrid suddenly had an idea.
She should find some way to help her friend, even if only a little...
Very little.
She decided to use his final words—the ones about becoming a great man and a legend.
"Eidal, do you really want to become a great man, to the point of becoming a legend?"
"Huh? You're answering me now? You were spacing out for quite a while, you know."
"Eidal."
"Y-yes?"
"Do you really want to become a great man?"
"Isn't... isn't that obvious?"
"You know, my grandfather says that the great men who became legends never cried. So if you're going to be a great man, promise me that from now on... you won't cry."
If she couldn't help him directly, then a promise would have to be enough for today.
Ingrid didn't expect not crying to solve everything. She wasn't stupid.
She had a plan to help Eidal stop depending so heavily on the affection of others, and the first step was simple:
Don't cry.
"Huh? I don't really understand..."
Before Eidal could refuse, however, Ingrid stared at him more intensely.
It had always worked.
And the boy said:
"But if you want me to, I can do it. Ingrid, I promise you. No matter what happens, I won't cry."
Easy, Ingrid concluded.
"That's something I want to see for myself."
"You can count on it!"
...
It was a very recent memory.
Brought back to reality, Ingrid thought it was a real shame that she couldn't finish the final details of making Eidal independent of other people's affection.
But swallowing down the bitter taste, she decided to use that promise on herself instead.
"I won't cry either. Yes, that makes me feel better. I'm sure you won't cry either, right, Eidal?"
After giving herself a little encouragement, she whispered a confession she would never have said in front of her friend:
"Take care of yourself, okay? After all... you're like family to me."
Unlike her, Eidal should be fine.
She herself had made certain he left the village when the Fallen attack began. There was no way Eidal would have gone back inside.
He wasn't that stupid.
Yes. You have to be okay.
Her entire plan was built around that assumption.
But if, for some reason, Eidal had been captured too, Ingrid would have to make a drastic change of strategy. Merely imagining such a possibility sent a wave of anguish piercing through her heart.
"When this is over, I hope we meet again. Yes, I'll promise you this too: I'll make sure I find you again... I'm sure we'll both have unique stories to tell each other, won't we?"
The promise disappeared into a luxurious room, trembling beneath the desperate groans coming from the other side of the wall.
But Ingrid hadn't been wrong about that last part.
They would surely have unique stories to tell each other.
Ingrid didn't know who was on the other side of the room; someone very important who could surely have given her a hand.
If only she had known, perhaps she could have given this story a different ending.
"Yes. I'm not going to die here... I'll live for the sake of those I consider important. For my family."
But then again, she wasn't a prodigy or a genius.
She was just an ordinary person who tried a little harder than everyone else.
End of Interlude 1.