May, London.
Befitting the city's nickname, "The City of Fog", the boarding school's garden was wrapped in a deep, white mist that morning.
Stepping onto the damp ground in front of the vine-shrouded chapel, Honami Takase Ambler gripped her suitcase.
The familiar face of an old gentleman awaited her at the marble front gate.
"McGregor-sensei."
"Miss Honami. How about at least a goodbye before heading back to your hometown? I was almost deprived of conveying my regards to our best student in recent years."
The fog at their feet completely obscuring his cane, McGregor placed his bowler against his chest.
His Japanese was fluent.
Honami let out a brief laugh and likewise took off her tall, pointed hat. Ice-blue eyes behind thin-rimmed glasses appeared from under her chestnut-hued, semi-short hair. The pure white blouse and tight skirt were dazzling on her innocent, fifteen-year old body.
"I didn't wanna cause any trouble. You're working on your next thesis and all."
"Do not belittle me. How could one be a proper English gentleman if he did not see his pupil off at the gate?"
Stroking his orderly Colman moustache[1], McGregor snorted lightly.
Honami smiled again.
He was that kind of person—showy and childish, but wonderful to be with. When he had suddenly approached Honami and asked her to teach him Japanese, he said, "I have no patience with accents. In any language, a historic, polite dialect most befits a gentleman." Several months later he underwent a total personality shift, right down to the BGM. He even threw out occasional rakugo[2] and kabuki[3] nuances. Students unaware of the circumstances even spread rumors that McGregor had finally gone loony.
However, over the last seven years, he was the most helpful person to Honami.
"Well then, how about one last graduation exam from your former teacher?"
"Sure."
She quickly went over her equipment in her mind—it was all right. She had already airmailed all her large magical items, but she could handle the worst with what she had on her. If push came to shove, she still had the thing inside her suitcase.
"Now now, no hesitation. Rather, you seem already sufficiently prepared."
McGregor twirled his cane. If this were an old movie, he would probably start tap dancing.
"In a garden like this, there is no need to worry about spell wave pollution. There is little time before the plane arrives. Let us begin quickly."
Swiftly, he pulled something out of his pocket.
It was a small, ceramic goblet. There was an ouroboros[1] carved on the side and a candle lid set on top. It was an object often used in alchemical experiments.
"Your specialty, Egyptian magic?"
"This is your test. Naturally, you meet the aptitude requirements for a student. Thus I have raised the level of difficulty on your behalf."
McGregor casually released the wine cup.
In that instant, there was a change. The cup broke apart with a sound, suddenly billowing smoke, which pushed away the fog and surrounded Honami. As if it had a will of its own, the smoke rushed into her nose and mouth.
"...gh"
"The stuffiness you are feeling is a reaction to the Kabbalah Golem and sulfur, Tria Prima."
McGregor observed calmly.
"I shall refrain from writing EMETH at this moment. Well then, how well can you handle an enemy with no true form?"
The smoke had already engulfed Honami's body.
According to McGregor's calculations, the smoke monster wouldn't stop until Honami had fainted. Of course he set it not to take her life, but it was possible that he had overlooked something. The smoke was designed to engulf her until all the air have been squeezed from her lungs.
However, the smoke suddenly stopped moving.
"Hm?"
McGregor frowned. A sprig of mistletoe had sprouted from the ground. It bound the smoke despite its shapelessness.
At the same time, a single arrow flew out of the smoke and struck McGregor's cane.
As the cane fell to the ground, it broke cleanly in half length-wise.
The letters EMETH were carved inside the cane, which had been held together with varnish, though the letter E had been marred by the arrow's impact.
"There's the spell's origin. Lying's the beginning of thievery, Sensei."
"Mistletoe Spear, huh? Again, a classic."
Waving his numbed hand, McGregor, who landed on his backside, gave a wry smile. The smoke had already disappeared. The girl, who was now holding her hand out to him, had no need to open her suitcase. It had been a ploy from the start, but as expected, she hadn't been forced to use her trump card.
"Aaaah, what a waste, what a waste...!"
Throwing off his gentlemanly façade, McGregor struggled to his feet.
"If you stay, we will waive all the research fees, and we will grant you unlimited access to our prized Grimoire. At least another year... no, half a year, please continue your studies here!"
"I'm happy that you value me."
McGregor sullenly crossed his arms.
"You have a lover in Japan or something?" he asked.
Honami's cheek's turned bright red.
"I-It's nothing like that!"
"Oh-ho!" McGregor joyously blew out his cheeks. "That's right, you said you had a childhood friend or something? It would be outside the bounds of gentlemanly behavior to leave it at that. Please tell me of your circumstances."
"Isn't what you're saying more like the reaction of a French gentleman?"
"Bah! It is a meaningless distinction." If any other English gentlemen had heard him, he probably would have been killed. "Well, whatever. For now, I am just happy to see the face of Miss Honami.
"So, where exactly in Japan are you going? Isn't Celtic magic over there quite minor? I heard it's almost all Shinto and Buddhism pulling the strings."
"Yeah... About that... I made the decision to do this ten years ago. Take a look, Sensei."
Smiling mischievously, Honami handed McGregor a single business card.
May, London.
Befitting the city's nickname, "The City of Fog", the boarding school's garden was wrapped in a deep, white mist that morning.
Stepping onto the damp ground in front of the vine-shrouded chapel, Honami Takase Ambler gripped her suitcase.
The familiar face of an old gentleman awaited her at the marble front gate.
"McGregor-sensei."
"Miss Honami. How about at least a goodbye before heading back to your hometown? I was almost deprived of conveying my regards to our best student in recent years."
The fog at their feet completely obscuring his cane, McGregor placed his bowler against his chest.
His Japanese was fluent.
Honami let out a brief laugh and likewise took off her tall, pointed hat. Ice-blue eyes behind thin-rimmed glasses appeared from under her chestnut-hued, semi-short hair. The pure white blouse and tight skirt were dazzling on her innocent, fifteen-year old body.
"I didn't wanna cause any trouble. You're working on your next thesis and all."
"Do not belittle me. How could one be a proper English gentleman if he did not see his pupil off at the gate?"
Stroking his orderly Colman moustache[1], McGregor snorted lightly.
Honami smiled again.
He was that kind of person—showy and childish, but wonderful to be with. When he had suddenly approached Honami and asked her to teach him Japanese, he said, "I have no patience with accents. In any language, a historic, polite dialect most befits a gentleman." Several months later he underwent a total personality shift, right down to the BGM. He even threw out occasional rakugo[2] and kabuki[3] nuances. Students unaware of the circumstances even spread rumors that McGregor had finally gone loony.
However, over the last seven years, he was the most helpful person to Honami.
"Well then, how about one last graduation exam from your former teacher?"
"Sure."
She quickly went over her equipment in her mind—it was all right. She had already airmailed all her large magical items, but she could handle the worst with what she had on her. If push came to shove, she still had the thing inside her suitcase.
"Now now, no hesitation. Rather, you seem already sufficiently prepared."
McGregor twirled his cane. If this were an old movie, he would probably start tap dancing.
"In a garden like this, there is no need to worry about spell wave pollution. There is little time before the plane arrives. Let us begin quickly."
Swiftly, he pulled something out of his pocket.
It was a small, ceramic goblet. There was an ouroboros[1] carved on the side and a candle lid set on top. It was an object often used in alchemical experiments.
"Your specialty, Egyptian magic?"
"This is your test. Naturally, you meet the aptitude requirements for a student. Thus I have raised the level of difficulty on your behalf."
McGregor casually released the wine cup.
In that instant, there was a change. The cup broke apart with a sound, suddenly billowing smoke, which pushed away the fog and surrounded Honami. As if it had a will of its own, the smoke rushed into her nose and mouth.
"...gh"
"The stuffiness you are feeling is a reaction to the Kabbalah Golem and sulfur, Tria Prima."
McGregor observed calmly.
"I shall refrain from writing EMETH at this moment. Well then, how well can you handle an enemy with no true form?"
The smoke had already engulfed Honami's body.
According to McGregor's calculations, the smoke monster wouldn't stop until Honami had fainted. Of course he set it not to take her life, but it was possible that he had overlooked something. The smoke was designed to engulf her until all the air have been squeezed from her lungs.
However, the smoke suddenly stopped moving.
"Hm?"
McGregor frowned. A sprig of mistletoe had sprouted from the ground. It bound the smoke despite its shapelessness.
At the same time, a single arrow flew out of the smoke and struck McGregor's cane.
As the cane fell to the ground, it broke cleanly in half length-wise.
The letters EMETH were carved inside the cane, which had been held together with varnish, though the letter E had been marred by the arrow's impact.
"There's the spell's origin. Lying's the beginning of thievery, Sensei."
"Mistletoe Spear, huh? Again, a classic."
Waving his numbed hand, McGregor, who landed on his backside, gave a wry smile. The smoke had already disappeared. The girl, who was now holding her hand out to him, had no need to open her suitcase. It had been a ploy from the start, but as expected, she hadn't been forced to use her trump card.
"Aaaah, what a waste, what a waste...!"
Throwing off his gentlemanly façade, McGregor struggled to his feet.
"If you stay, we will waive all the research fees, and we will grant you unlimited access to our prized Grimoire. At least another year... no, half a year, please continue your studies here!"
"I'm happy that you value me."
McGregor sullenly crossed his arms.
"You have a lover in Japan or something?" he asked.
Honami's cheek's turned bright red.
"I-It's nothing like that!"
"Oh-ho!" McGregor joyously blew out his cheeks. "That's right, you said you had a childhood friend or something? It would be outside the bounds of gentlemanly behavior to leave it at that. Please tell me of your circumstances."
"Isn't what you're saying more like the reaction of a French gentleman?"
"Bah! It is a meaningless distinction." If any other English gentlemen had heard him, he probably would have been killed. "Well, whatever. For now, I am just happy to see the face of Miss Honami.
"So, where exactly in Japan are you going? Isn't Celtic magic over there quite minor? I heard it's almost all Shinto and Buddhism pulling the strings."
"Yeah... About that... I made the decision to do this ten years ago. Take a look, Sensei."
Smiling mischievously, Honami handed McGregor a single business card.
