ã€ŠThe Tale of Saint Schrodinger: A cat and his sisterã€‹


 1-01

    By every standard that mattered in the known galaxy, the city of Holy Throne was both small and unimportant.

    Of course, that city was home to a happy and growing population, one that was fiercely proud of its achievements thus far. But then again, those sorts of things were always a matter of perspective.

    After all, even though the sky above Holy Throne was dotted with artificial lights, the trail of starships going to and from orbit, they still had only developed flight some two hundred years before. And even though their entire planet had been unified under a single banner for more than a century, their existence was only worth a footnote in the history books of larger and older empires.

    So, for all that Holy Throne was the most advanced and well-developed city on the entire planet, it was still just a city. And the Theocracy of Dango, of which that city was the capital, was still barely a blip on the map of the greater factions that existed in the galaxy.

    And yet, despite the galaxy¡¯s indifference towards it, the sun rose on its horizon yet again, marking the beginning of another day.

    Holy Throne was a city that had been built by design. Founded by the Pope himself after he had unified the entire planet under his faith, it was created to be a place of worship as much as it was a metropolis. Its buildings were placed in a display of concentric circles, the golden trim of their roofs forming great rings of light when seen from above as they reflected the rising sun.

    At the center of that city was a great castle. The Vatican. The seat and center of the religion of Dango. A single ring-shaped structure dotted with towers that pierced the clouds.

    Just as the first rays of sunlight reached the Vatican, a soft and resonating tone could be heard coming from it. As the grand crystal bells enclosed within the spirals of the Vatican began to chime, spurring the faithful city into a new morning of prayer and activity.

    And within one of the innumerable rooms of that castle, one that was pitch black with its windows tightly shut, a figure stirred.

    ¡°Hmmmmmm¡­¡±

    Calling it a figure didn¡¯t seem entirely adequate, though. If anything, the thing would be better described as a lump. A small lump, formed by something that was curled up under the covers of a bed.

    Still, that figure, that curled up lump that was under the thick blankets, stirred. It stirred every time the crystal bells rang, moving and squirming a little bit and forcing itself to stop right after. It was obvious, then, that the lump had already woken up, but was still trying to deny that fact with all its might.

    Another faraway chime of the bells rang through the dark room. And, as if trying to resist them, the lump hugged the thing it was clutching against its chest even tighter.

    ¡°!!!¡±

    Which immediately caused an alarmed noise to fill the room, the stillness of the thing under the covers suddenly giving way to a short struggle, as something fought to free itself.

    ¡°Ahh!¡± and moments later, a small blur shot out from under the blankets, running to the far side of the room. Heaving like a person who had very nearly drowned.

    The blur, which revealed itself to be a small car of soft white fur and purple eyes, seemed to run his paws over his body for a few moments, as if checking if all his members were still intact.

    And then, with an angry expression that was very uncharacteristic to a cat, he once again turned to face the lump of covers that was on the bed.

    ¡°I know you don¡¯t want to wake up,¡± the cat said out loud, angrily stomping with his tiny paws closer to the bed, ¡°but did you really have to squeeze me like that?!¡±

    But the lump under the covers didn¡¯t seem to care for the cat¡¯s complaints, much to the feline¡¯s indignation. He shook his head as he continued to observe the unmoving blankets, not sure if he should wait for a reaction or not. Narrowing his eyes as he very carefully continued to approach the bed.

    And moments later, the cat¡¯s caution proved itself valid. Because as soon as he was close enough to the covers, a hand all but lunged at him, reaching for the cat with a speed that betrayed its previous stillness. With a yelp and a fright, the cat jumped back, barely escaping the hand.

    A vaguely audible grumble came from the covers, as the hand retracted back into them.

    ¡°Alright, you asked for this,¡± the cat answered, rolling his eyes in annoyance and bounding towards the room¡¯s window. Throwing the curtains to the side and opening it right after, allowing the light of the rising sun to shine into the room.

    ¡°No! The ssuuunn¡­! It burns!¡± a voice came from the messy blankets almost immediately, as the figure underneath them began to flail. Each clumsy attempt at bringing the covers together somehow spreading them out even more. To the point that soon enough the figure was totally uncovered, the blankets spread around the bed or even thrown to the ground.

    Finally revealing what was previously hiding under them.

    A young girl, still a ways from her teenage years, was sitting on the bed with a sleepy expression, both of her hands covering her eyes. Her hair was long and messy, its strawberry pink color making her look even younger than she already was, blending almost perfectly with the pink pajamas she was wearing, which was covered with the tiny drawings of white animals.

    ¡°Dummy¡­¡± was all she said, the sleepiness in her tone drowning out whatever spark of irritation that she might have been feeling. She then began to very tentatively take her hands off from her eyes, blinking several times as she tried to get used to the sudden light in her room.

    But the one that she was talking to, the cat that was looking at her this whole time, was now gone. Instead, a young boy who was maybe the same age as her was sitting on the windowsill. His legs dangling into the room, with his back to the rising sun as he looked at the young girl with his purple eyes.

    The boy had short black hair, wearing a sleeveless shirt and a pair of shorts. However, much like the figure that had been occupying his place mere moments before, he also had two cat-like ears jutting out of his head. The black of his hair contrasting with the fur on his ears, as well as with the white feline tail that was dangling leisurely out through the window behind him. He had the skinny energy that only an eleven-year-old boy could have, and his alert and awake appearance couldn¡¯t have been more at odds with the girl¡¯s sleepiness.

    Still, there was a resemblance between the two that even their different expressions could not hide. And even though they were almost completely different at first glance they also shared a dozen tiny similarities, from the shape of their noses to the line of their cheeks, that could not possibly be just a coincidence.

    The way the boy talked, as well, made it clear that what they shared was more than simple familiarity.

    ¡°Well, are we awake? Can we finally begin our day or are we still in a strangling mood?¡± he asked, ears twitching lightly as a fresh breeze came in through the open window.

    ¡°Dummy¡­¡± was all that the girl said once again. However, a few moments later, she finally turned her back to him, lazily rubbing her eyes as she sat down in a more comfortable way on her bed.

    And that was the signal that the boy had been waiting for.

    This was, so to speak, a small ritual between the two of them. Something that always happened whenever the girl had a nightmare and asked if he could sleep with her. Swinging his legs for a tiny bit of impulse, Schrodinger jumped from the windowsill where he was sitting and went on to sit on the bed behind his sister. His hands immediately setting to work on her strawberry-pink hair with an ease that spoke volumes of how often he did that.

    ¡°Ehh¡­ your hair is a bit messier than usual today. Hold on, I¡¯ll go grab the hairbrush.¡±

    Not waiting for the mumbled answer that would come from her, he moved towards the nightstand by the bed and picked up the brush that he kept there just for that.

    ¡°Which is a bit weird. I mean, you didn¡¯t toss and turn nearly as much last night, so I have no idea why your hair is like this.¡± He continued saying, as he gently began to brush the long hair in front of him. Continuing to talk normally even though his sister didn¡¯t say anything back and his words were quickly turning into a one-sided conversation.

    Although to be honest, he didn¡¯t really mind that she wasn¡¯t answering. In fact, it would be very unusual if she said anything at all. There was nothing wrong with her voice, of course, but still¡­

    Well, Schrodinger was acutely aware of how much she liked his company.

    It was obvious, really. At least for him it was obvious. After all, he had already noticed a long time ago how she looked, how uncomfortable she felt, when she was around other children their age. Or even when they were with the adults. He had already realized that he was one of the very few people around which she truly seemed to be at ease. And what is more, he also knew that she liked to hear him talk, or at least she would always look up at him, with eyes full of expectation and unease, whenever he stopped talking.

    So, there was no reason for him not to talk. There was no reason for him not to do something his little sister liked.

    There were many strange things about his sister. Schrodinger didn¡¯t think that her being quiet was one of them, of course, even though he had already heard some priests whisper about that when they though no one was hearing them. But still, there were many strange things about Pandora.

    Like the fact that she was almost always sick or ill.

    Well, sick wasn¡¯t really the best way to describe it. But the thing is that Pandora would sometimes look very tired, even though she hadn¡¯t really done a lot of things throughout the day. And sometimes, even though she looked completely fine, their father would take her somewhere saying that she needed to take a special medicine. But still, what he really found strange about all of this was that no matter how many times he asked, the adults would never tell him exactly what kind of illness she had.

    Another strange thing about his sister was that she had never left the castle. Or rather, the adults had never allowed her to leave the Vatican.

    Still, for all that he thought that to be strange, he didn¡¯t really think any of that was suspicious. After all, it was their parents that were doing all of that. Schrodinger wouldn¡¯t have felt good about his sister¡¯s situation if it was just the priests saying that she was ill, given how he had already noticed the strange way some of them stared at his sister. But since it was their parents that were taking care of that, then he was sure it was for the best.

    And of course, the strangest thing about his sister was that¡­ well, it was something that was right in front of him at that very moment.

    He had been brushing her hair for a few minutes now, and thanks to his efforts the messiness that he was staring at previously was completely gone. Not long ago this would have taken him a lot longer, and he would have heard quite a few mumbles and groans of pain every time he brushed over a knot in her hair too quickly. But that wasn¡¯t something that happened nearly as much nowadays.

    So, leaving the brush aside, he began the second part of his task.

    Pandora¡¯s hair was straight and pink, and it had a soft and pleasant smell about it thanks to the shampoo she always used. However, now that her hair was brushed and tamed, he could clearly see that¡­ well, that not all of her hair was like that.

    Near the back of her head, on both the right and left sides, she had a pair of large dark spots on her skin. They would normally be hard to notice, of course, since most of the time they would have been covered by her glossy pink hair.

    However, that was another peculiar thing about his sister.

    The hair that grew out of those particular spots was¡­ different. Very rarely her normal pink hair would grow from those two spots, but most of the time what came from there instead were strange and dark strands of hair, which had a weirdly hard appearance to them almost as if they had been burned but continued to grow regardless.

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    In fact, more than just looking like burned hair, he knew that if he brought his nose close to them, they would also smell the part. Although, of course, that wasn¡¯t an aspect about herself that his sister liked to be reminded about.

    Which was why, as part of their small ritual, Schrodinger would also do what he was doing at that moment.

    ¡°Alright, now we¡¯re all set,¡± he said.

    Getting up from the bed and taking a few steps back, Schrodinger allowed himself to appreciate his own handiwork. After all, looking at the back of his sister¡¯s hair, there were no traces of the strange burnt hair to be seen. Instead, two twinned pink braids were covering them up, flowing out from the back of her head until they reached the middle of her back.

    He knew that Pandora¡¯s mother could make them look a lot better, but he was sure that he would reach that level someday.

    ¡°Thanks, big bro!¡± she said, turning back to face him as she traced her braids with one of her hands.

    And he couldn¡¯t help but smile a little bit, as he looked at the giddy expression she was wearing while saying those words. It was very rare for her to look like that, or even speak in that cheerful tone, when there were other people around, so he always felt like he was doing something right whenever he saw her smile that way.

    But of course, seeing her act all happy like that also made him realize that she was now fully awake. Which also meant, he remembered with a jolt, that it was getting late!

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome Pan,¡± he said, his words slightly more rushed than normal, as he began making his way around her bed and towards the door. ¡°And I think it¡¯s about time I get going.¡±

    ¡°No, wait!¡± but he barely took three steps towards the door, before the girl practically tackled his arm in a two-handed grip.

    And just like that, all the warm and fuzzy feelings he had felt, from making his little sister happy, were immediately replaced by a growing wave of annoyance.

    Although to be fair, he wasn¡¯t surprised that was happening. in fact, he had already accepted that, apparently, that last bit was also a part of their ¡°ritual¡±. At least from his sister¡¯s perspective. So, the thing he was actually annoyed about was how quickly his sister lunged at him.

    Really, he could have sworn he would have made it to the door before she could get to him. But the girl seemed to be getting faster with each passing day!

    ¡°You do know,¡± he said, taking a deep breath, refusing to even turn towards her as he spoke, ¡°that I need to get back to my room, right? You do know how angry my mom gets when I don¡¯t get ready in time, don¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°But you always get there on time anyways!¡± the girl answered without skipping a beat, and he wondered if she even thought about her words before saying them. ¡°And besides I¡­ I want you to help me get dressed and stuff!¡±

    Schrodinger felt his eyebrows twitch at that, his expression slowly becoming less and less patient as he came to terms with the fact that his sister was being unreasonable. As usual. And that no matter what he said she wouldn¡¯t take no for an answer. As usual. And that there was only one way for him to get out of that situation. As usual.

    Really, it was almost impossible to imagine that his drowsy and quiet little sister from a few minutes ago was the same creature that was now holding on to his arm with a vice-like grip.

    ¡°I can guarantee you,¡± he said, still refusing to even look back at her, ¡°that you don¡¯t need my help getting dressed. And you definitely don¡¯t need help with whatever other and stuff you¡¯re trying to come up with.¡±

    He said that, but the only answer he got was the sound of his sister planting one of her feet on the bed¡¯s footboard. Which he knew, from experience, was a sign that she was getting ready to pull his arm with her entire body if he tried to get away from her.

    A short, annoyed sigh came out from him when he realized that, once again, Pandora was fully committed to this. And that their silent and unmoving poses, with his back turned to her while she firmly held on to his arm, had turned into a standoff of sorts.

    ¡°Fine, we can do this the hard way,¡± Schrodinger said.

    And then he took a step forward.

    With that, a dozen different sounds came to his ears at the same time. He could hear the wooden footboard of her bed creak, as his sister desperately tried to use it as foothold. He could hear Pandora let out a low, strained groan as she tried her best to pull him back towards her. Heavens, he even thought he heard the bed itself being dragged a few inches.

    But still, despite all her efforts¡­

    ¡°Why¡­ are¡­ you¡­ so¡­ stubborn!¡± he heard her say, every word out of her mouth requiring more effort than the last.

    Because despite all her efforts, he was barely using any force at all.

    But not because Pandora herself was weak, mind you. Thankfully, despite her illness, she wasn¡¯t actually frail. He could feel that she was giving it her all, and he could tell that she was just as strong as any girl her age. But still, the gap between their physical strength meant that she still couldn¡¯t pull him even a single inch towards her.

    And of course, Schrodinger was two years older than her, but he wasn¡¯t stronger than her just because he was eleven and she was nine. But instead, it was purely because he had cat blood in his veins, and she didn¡¯t. And his species was naturally much stronger than Pandora¡¯s.

    He almost never thought about the fact that they were only half-siblings. But at moments like those, that little detail certainly came to his mind.

    But still, what his little sister lacked in strength she certainly made up in stubbornness. And even though she could not stop him any more than she could uproot a tree by pulling it up from the ground, he was still keenly aware that he might have to drag her all the way to his room before she finally let go of him.

    And sure enough, the moment he took another step towards the door, he felt how Pandora finally reached her limit and stopped pulling him. However, she only stopped pulling him back. Her grip around his arm was still as strong as ever.

    Which, he realized too late, only meant his sister had lost her footing on her bed. The sound of her foot slipping from the bed¡¯s floorboard being followed closely by a short, girlish yelp.

    ¡°Ahh!¡±

    And in the next moment, she fell on his back, his vision turning into a blur as the sudden weight of her body against his caused him to lose balance.

    !!!

    He fell on the ground hard, barely being able to shield his face with an arm before his breath was punched out of him by the impact against the ground. He could feel his knees burning up, probably scraped by the hit against the hard floor. But more than that, he could also tell that his sister fell on his back, still holding on his arm that was now sandwiched between the two of them.

    Because of course that, even though the two of them almost got hurt, she still refused to let go of him.

    A low, pained groan escaped his lips, and he laid on the floor for a few moments while he regained his composure. He wasn¡¯t sure if he was more worried that Pandora might have gotten hurt, or if he was more angry at the fact that she was still holding on to him. The two sides of his brain arguing over whether he should scold her or check if she was alright.

    However, just as he was about to decide what he was going to do next, he froze. The two of them froze, in fact. Their breathing dying out and their bodies going still as they realized that the door in front of them was now open.

    That same door, which led out of Pandora¡¯s room, was closed just a moment ago of course. It was closed when they woke up, and it was closed when she was struggling to keep a hold of him in a fit of her slightly annoying antics. But now, he could see, it was open.

    And what was more, he also realized that he was looking at a pair of adult legs that were now right in front of him. Or rather, he realized that there was an adult in front of him, looking down at him.

    Both he and Pandora recognized who that person was at the same time, and their reactions couldn¡¯t have been more different.

    He could practically hear the smile on that person¡¯s face, as she crossed her arms and spoke down to them.

    ¡°My, my, my, what have we here? A princess and her little white cat?¡±

    As always, he was never quite sure what was that strange thing that he felt inside of him, whenever he heard her voice. But still, as always, he did his best not to let it show.

    ¡°Good morning mom!¡± Pandora said.

    Although, again as always, he wasn¡¯t quite good at hiding his hesitation, and his words came out of him a long heartbeat after Pandora¡¯s excited response.

    ¡°Good morning auntie Juno¡­¡± he said, a few moments later.

    As if on cue, Pandora¡¯s grip on his arm finally disappeared, and the weight of her body went away from his back a few seconds later.

    And he felt the woman¡¯s eyes on him as he got up and stood next to his sister.

    ¡°Pandora, are you still calling asking your brother to sleep with you? Even though you are already this old?¡± she said, with a strangely amused expression that Schrodinger couldn¡¯t quite name, ¡°if you keep doing that, the two of you might end up getting married you know.¡±

    Schrodinger made sure not to meet her eyes as she said that, pretending he was looking down at his clothes and checking if they were dirty or wrinkled from the fall. He didn¡¯t know why, but he never really felt comfortable around Pandora¡¯s mother. And it wasn¡¯t because he felt embarrassed at what she said, but because the way Juno said that just didn¡¯t feel¡­ right?

    Auntie Juno was a woman of medium stature, relatively thin and with long and strawberry-pink hair just like Pandora¡¯s that went down to her waist. She seemed to make a point of always wearing a dress, or something with a long skirt, and the clothes she was wearing that morning were not an exception to that.

    She looked perfectly normal, and there wasn¡¯t a thing about her that he could say would make her stand out in a crowd. But still, whenever she looked at him, he couldn¡¯t help but feel that her eyes felt¡­

    He didn¡¯t even know how to explain it, or why he felt like that. The only thing that he knew was that he didn¡¯t feel right when she looked at him. He considered Pandora his sister, even though they were technically half-siblings. However, he absolutely did not feel that same level of proximity to his aunt.

    And whenever he thought too much about that, he couldn¡¯t help but think that his aunt knew that, and that her smile somehow grew slightly wider at that.

    Still, his sister definitely didn¡¯t feel that way. To the point that she was even nodding slightly at her mother¡¯s words, whatever that meant.

    ¡°Well, little man, isn¡¯t there somewhere you are supposed to be by now?¡± his aunt asked, opening the door slightly wider and taking a step to the side.

    That was all Schrodinger needed to get his legs to move, quickly escaping from that room. He felt her stare on his back as he walked away, but thankfully that feeling died down as soon as he turned the first corner.

    After that, Schrodinger hurriedly made his way to his own room, letting out a sigh of relief at the fact that he didn¡¯t find his mother waiting for him there. His room was slightly smaller than Pandora¡¯s, and he didn¡¯t have a window that gave him a view of the rising sun like her room had. However, his window gave him a view of the great garden of the Vatican, and from what he heard other people say that was much better.

    But he didn¡¯t have time to look out towards the garden. In fact, he barely had time to do anything, thanks to his sister making him so late. He had to skip the morning warm-ups his mother always told him to do, and his prayers in thanks for another day, and all the little things that he would normally do each and every day during a regular morning. He had to skip all of that, because he knew his own mother was about to walk in on him at any moment, and that he was running against the clock.

    So, he all but ran towards his wardrobe, picked up the clothes he was supposed to put on, and did his best to tidy up his bed in a way that suggested he slept in his own room and had a perfectly normal night behind him.

    Although even though he moved as quickly as possible, it still took him a few minutes to get all of that done. Long, tense minutes where he would hurriedly put on another piece of clothing, at the same time he was straightening the sheets of his bed, all the while he was stealing glances at his door and hoping that he wouldn¡¯t see his mother there.

    But still, somehow, he made it. After all that frantic activity, Schrodinger¡¯s room was finally in order, he had his training clothes on, and a short sigh of relief was escaping his lips as he thanked the heavens that his mother didn¡¯t sneak up on-

    ¡°Seems like I got here right on time,¡± the familiar voice came from his open door, and the sigh that was half-out of Schrodinger¡¯s mouth immediately turned into a frightened yelp, his whole body jumping up in surprise.

    ¡°Good morning mother!¡±, he answered right after, his back going straight out of habit and reflex as he turned to face her. And just like it was with his aunt, he swore that his mother had just materialized inside his room through a door that was closed just an eyeblink ago.

    Although judging by her relaxed posture, leaning against the door with her arms crossed, he couldn¡¯t help but think that she had been standing there in plain sight, observing him that whole time.

    It would have been impossible to look at Dalia and Schrodinger and not say that they were mother and son. After all, they had the same dark hair, topped by a similar pair of white cat ears, and both of them had the same purple tone to their eyes. There were also a dozen other tiny details about the way they looked that made it very clear that Dalia had quite literally made him, but it was really their eyes and ears that drove the point home.

    She was taller than Schrodinger, but that was a given seeing how young he was. She also had a rather serious expression, and usually carried herself in a no-nonsense manner even when she was with her family. And just like she did every morning, she was wearing the same training clothes that he was. An extra-heavy jacket with light canvas pants, with a thick cotton belt around her waist. The only difference being that her training clothes were black, with a red belt, while Schrodinger¡¯s were entirely white.

    Granted, his mother¡¯s training clothes were also a lot less beaten and wrinkled than his, but that was precisely because they trained together every morning. After all, hers was a species of warriors, and even though Dalia was careful during their training she also made a point of not going easy on him. Because despite her unassuming stature, her feline strength was more than enough to casually throw and toss him as needed.

    And even though Schrodinger knew he only had half of her species¡¯ blood, he still admired that part of her very much.

    ¡°I passed by your aunt while I was making my way here, and she didn¡¯t give me any of the stares that she usually does,¡± his mother said, as she nonchalantly looked at him, ¡°so don¡¯t think that I don¡¯t know you just got here, and that you got ready in a hurry.¡±

    She said that, and his face immediately turned into a grimace as he realized what her words meant.

    Because his mother loved him, of course, and he also loved her very much.

    But, she always made sure to remind him, that didn¡¯t mean she was going to go easy on him. Or rather, it was precisely because she loved him that she would ¡°make sure to keep him on the straight and narrow,¡± as she would always say.

    ¡°Which means,¡± she said, as she walked towards him, ¡°that I also know you skipped the warmups you are supposed to do.¡±

    And as soon as she was close enough to him-

    Paf!

    -she hit him on the top of his head, with a light chopping motion.

    ¡°Ouch!¡±

    Well, it was a light chopping motion only from her point of view. But Schrodinger, who had also lowered his head out of habit from that usual kind of punishment, could only do his best not to scratch at the place she just hit.

    Not that he would have needed to, because right after she hit him, he also felt her hand immediately go back to the same spot, affectionately ruffling his hair as she let out a long and practiced sigh.

    ¡°You really have to stop spoiling your sister so much,¡± she said, repeating the same words she said almost every day when that kind of thing happened.

    But almost as if she knew which battles she could win, and which were a lost cause, she gave him a last pat on the head and turned around, walking out of his room and giving him the smallest of handwaves for him to follow.

    ¡°Now let¡¯s get going. We have a long day ahead of us, and now we also have an extra set of warmups to do before we even begin that,¡± she said, but not in a way that made Schrodinger feel bad or guilty. In fact, he couldn¡¯t help but feel a smile appear on his face as he felt his usual routine beginning to fall in place around him.

    And like he did every morning, Schrodinger followed after his mother.

 1-02

    Dalia Nnoara was, for lack of a better term, a warrior at heart.

    Or at least, that was what Schrodinger¡¯s father always said, whenever he talked about her.

    Schrodinger wasn¡¯t entirely sure of what he meant by that. Of course, he knew what a warrior was, and he understood the figure of speech itself. But still, the way his father said it always made him feel like he was missing something. Something about his father¡¯s tone of voice, whenever he said that, always made him think that there was something he just didn¡¯t understand.

    Still, Schrodinger always tried his best. He always tried his best to understand his father¡¯s words, and he always tried his best to keep up with his mother.

    Even if he failed on occasion.

    ¡°Alright, that does it for our warmup,¡± his mother said, as her feet once again touched the ground. Rubbing her hands slightly, out of habit rather than any true need to clean them, as she finished getting up from a particularly complicated handstand.

    And Schrodinger¡­ well, he got on his feet as well, eventually. But far less elegantly. Because not only were his arms and shoulders burning up from how long they stayed like that, he also was only barely keeping his balance after all the stretching and leg-moving they did while upside down.

    ¡°Yes mother,¡± he half-said, half-gasped as he straightened himself up, still feeling slightly dizzy from the sudden movement. Because he swore that his tail should be helping him keep his balance. But as he shook his head to try and get rid of that slight bit of vertigo, he was sure that he was somehow falling towards his back, and that it was somehow his tail¡¯s fault.

    But as always, his mother didn¡¯t seem to be bothered in the slightest.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s one part of your morning routine taken care of. Even if it was the part that you already know to do on your own,¡± she said, as she walked towards a wooden rack at the far end of the room.

    To which he answered with a small and embarrassed grimace, while she had her back turned to him. But he knew she was right, and that there was nothing he could do about it but feel bad today and make sure he didn¡¯t repeat the same mistake tomorrow. Or at least, that was what she always told him whenever he messed up.

    Well, she would tell him that, and then she would gruel him with those exhausting warmups. Which, for the record, were way harder than the ones he was supposed to do on his own.

    ¡°So now we can finally begin our day proper,¡± she finished saying, as she reached the rack and picked up two particular instruments from it.

    Schrodinger and his mother were in a square training room, its hard floor at the same time clean and worn out from use. The four corners of the room were filled with neatly organized groups of instruments, dummies, and other things besides. But the greater part of the room was kept clear. A large circle drawn on the floor, that dominated most of the room, demarcating the area where they practiced almost every morning.

    And as his mother returned from one of the racks in a corner, she handed him the smaller of the two things she had picked up. It was an item that he was already familiar with. The same item that she handed him almost every morning, the small calluses on his hands settling around its handle in an almost perfect fit.

    The thing that she handed him was a training sword. A blunt-edged training sword made of metal, which was particularly heavy even for him. Although it was still adequate for his size and height. His mother was also holding a similar sword, which was exactly like his own except for the fact that it was proportionally larger to her height, and that he knew it was far heavier than his.

    He took the sword in his hands, and walked backwards until he was partway between the center of the ring and its edge. He then followed his mother¡¯s lead as they gave each other a small salute. They didn¡¯t exchange any words, or made any other gestures, because there was no need for it.

    After all, that had been a part of Schrodinger¡¯s routine for his entire life. He had been doing that for as long as he remembered.

    ¡°Ready?¡± she asked, even though she already knew the answer.

    ¡°Yes mother!¡± he said, giving her a firm nod.

    And with that, yet another day of training began.

    - - -

    Like almost every other day in Schrodinger¡¯s life, for the past few years at least, the early part of his morning was spent training with his mother.

    Or rather, his mother spent the early part of her morning training him. Because Schrodinger didn¡¯t really feel he was anywhere near good enough to be able to say he was training ¡°with¡± his mother. He didn¡¯t really think he was getting better at anything, despite her efforts.

    Still, every day, he would try his best to keep up with his mother. Blocking her strikes, even though his arms would burn under the strain of her blows. Trying to hit her back, even though she would parry all his attempts effortlessly. Doing his best to imitate her footwork, even though he always felt like she was dancing around him while he was trying his best just to keep his feet under him.

    And that morning as well, things were also happening like they always did. He was trying his best, and as usual his best was just not enough. Because even though she would give him an approving nod every time he did certain things, he couldn¡¯t help but think she wasn¡¯t really being sincere. He couldn¡¯t help but think she was just giving him free encouragement.

    He didn¡¯t really feel like he was getting any better than he was yesterday, or the day before. He didn¡¯t really feel he was getting any faster, like she said, or any stronger.

    Because no matter how much she told him it didn¡¯t matter, Schrodinger was still acutely aware that he would never be able to live up to her expectations. He was acutely aware that he was only half-blooded, and that no matter how hard he tried, he would always-

    ¡°Concentrate!¡± his mother¡¯s loud and sharp tone snapped him out of his thoughts.

    And suddenly, he was back in the present. Wearing his heavy and sweaty training clothes, holding a blunted training sword in a two-hand grip, and watching with wide-eyed surprise as his mother¡¯s own sword arced down towards him in a slashing movement aimed directly at his head.

    His reflexes took over, legs tensing for a little more stability as he raised his own blunted sword. Performing a guard motion that she had quite literally drilled into him over the past few months, lifting his own training blade just in time to stop her downward slash.

    Or so he thought.

    Schrodinger grimaced, looking up at her sword, as he realized that his mother¡¯s training weapon was in fact between his own sword and his head. Meaning not only that she was able to get her strike through before he ever raised his guard, but also that she was able to stop her sword¡¯s momentum a hair breadth¡¯s away from hitting his head.

    ¡°You realize I can tell when you aren¡¯t really paying attention, right?¡± she asked, her own posture relaxed despite how easily she kept her blade in the exact same spot, less than an inch shy of grazing his head.

    To which he didn¡¯t really know how to respond. He just stood there, frozen in the same posture he had been in when he failed to block her. A mixture of embarrassment and disappointment creeping into his thoughts.

    ¡°I¡¯m trying my best,¡± he blurted out, realizing that at some point he had lowered his gaze towards the floor. His failed posture following right after. His arms falling back to his sides as the training sword on his hands suddenly felt way heavier than usual.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t say you aren¡¯t trying your best, Schrodinger. I just said you weren¡¯t paying attention,¡± she said, resting her own sword on her shoulder, ¡°which means there is something on your mind that isn¡¯t letting you focus.¡±

    And even though her tone was calm, and maybe even worried, it felt like anything but that to Schrodinger. Instead, as Dalia looked at him more carefully, he felt like she was appraising him. Judging him, even. And of course, he was sure that she was as disappointed in him as he felt about himself.

    Still, given how intently he was looking towards the ground, he entirely missed how his mother pursed her lips. Because Dalia certainly noticed how her son¡¯s ears were slightly down, as well as the fact that his tail was depressingly low behind him.

    ¡°Schrodinger, dear,¡± he heard her say, not even noticing how unusually soft her tone was, ¡°is there anything you want to tell m-?¡±

    But just as she began to ask that question, she was interrupted by a sharp beeping sound that drowned out her words. The sound, they both immediately knew, was coming from the metal wristband she had around her forearm. The portable device that, among several other things, also served as a personal communicator.

    She had her hand around the wristband in the next moment, and the loud noise was immediately switched off. Still, a heavy silence took its place. Because Dalia gave a great deal of importance to her morning routine. So, the fact that someone was trying to get in touch with her at that time could only mean that it was something serious.

    In fact, given how she had programmed her communicator to ignore almost every call during the morning, she knew that it was something that required her urgent attention. Whatever it was.

    Schrodinger looked up at his mother, and he finally realized that she was grimacing. Still, he could also see that the beeping on her armband had been replaced by an angrily flashing red light. He watched as she hesitated for a few more seconds, before letting out a short sigh.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you take the rest of the morning off?¡± she said, putting on a rather pained smile as she took his sword from him. ¡°Just make sure you aren¡¯t late for school, and we can talk more when I get back for dinner?¡±

    Schrodinger answered her with a half-hearted nod, and something about his expression made his mother hesitate for a few moments longer. However, the insisting flashing from her wristband eventually won, and soon enough she was storming out of the training room.

    Leaving him alone.

    Not realizing how much he sounded like his mother, Schrodinger himself let out a low sigh. His figure cooling down and his limbs beginning to ache slightly, as his body began to accept that the morning training had indeed finished early. He stood there for a few more moments, before he began to pick up on the fact that he was sweating and that his training clothes didn¡¯t exactly smell good, which in turn finally motivated him to get moving again.

    Although, in all honesty, he wasn¡¯t entirely sure about what he would do next.

    Because sure, Schrodinger had his own interests and ways to pass time. His life wasn¡¯t so strictly scheduled that he was paralyzed, with no idea of what to do, just because he had a little bit of free time in the morning. Even if that sort of thing almost never happened.

    The problem, however, was precisely that. He only had a little bit of free time. He definitely did not have time to do any of the things he would usually do. All his usual hobbies, such as wandering through the ventilation shafts and eavesdropping on the priests, all shared the common feature that they took up a lot of time. In fact, after consulting a nearby clock, he realized he had less than an hour before the time he would usually have breakfast with his mother, and he had school shortly after that.

    Still, he decided to at least make his way back to his room. To clean up and change out of his training clothes while he mulled over that particular problem, if nothing else.

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    Or at least that was his plan. Because as soon as he began making his way towards the door, he immediately heard someone knocking on it.

    Actually, he didn¡¯t hear someone knocking. He heard someone banging on the door. A trio of bangs that weren¡¯t from someone asking to be let in as much as they were a person announcing their imminent entry. And before Schrodinger even had the chance to answer, or to react at all, the door was flung wide open.

    But it was precisely because of that suddenness, or perhaps even rudeness, that he knew exactly who was about to barge into the training room.

    He only had time to roll his eyes, realizing that his little free time was about to evaporate, before she walked into the training room.

    ¡°Scotty! Good morning!¡± said a blonde and overly energetic-looking girl as she walked into the room. Her eyes gleaming as if she owned the place.

    From appearance alone, the girl looked like she was Schrodinger¡¯s age. Perhaps just a bit taller than him, but that was it. She had blonde hair that that went to the middle of her back, and her red eyes seemed to be as energetic as her smile. Schrodinger knew she had a bit of canine blood, seeing how her parents were of different species just like his. But given how it was her father that had canine genes, and not her mother, she didn¡¯t inherit the more blatant traits such as the ears or a tail.

    Quite on the contrary. Her appearance was that of a perfectly neutral humanoid. A red-eyed girl wearing black boots and a white sundress, the hem of her skirt embroidered with tiny religious symbols in golden color.

    ¡°Hello Kali,¡± Schrodinger answered, his flat tone the polar opposite of her enthusiasm.

    But the girl was too excited to even notice that.

    ¡°I saw your mom while I was making my way here!¡± she said, almost as soon as he finished saying hello.

    ¡°That means you have eyes. Wonderful,¡± he mumbled, wondering if she was even listening to him.

    ¡°And I was also with my dad a few minutes ago. We were having breakfast when he got a message,¡± Kali continued, her tone lowering to a conspiratorial hush. ¡°He left in a hurry right after that.¡±

    Schrodinger¡¯s ears perked up at that. And the girl crossed her arms and puffed up with pride as she saw that she piqued his interest.

    ¡°Hold on. Your dad also got called for¡­ something?¡± he asked, to which Kali nodded. ¡°And you said it was a few minutes ago? No, wait, you got here just as mom left. So your dad was called maybe five minutes ago?¡±

    ¡°Yup, I came straight here just as he left,¡± she said. And the dawning realization on Schrodinger¡¯s expression told Kali everything she needed to know. She could tell that he was already reaching the same conclusion she did.

    Because Kali and Schrodinger had been friends for as long as they remembered. But that was because their parents knew each other as well. Their parents knew each other, they worked together, and they also lived practically next to each other. So, it was only natural that the two of them had grown up together.

    And it was also no secret that Kali¡¯s father was a terribly important man.

    Which could only mean that¡­

    ¡°Oh wow. Something big happened,¡± he said, not sure if he should be surprised or worried.

    ¡°Yeap! Something¡¯s going on, and it got the adults all worked up,¡± she said. Her excitement entirely at odds with his uneasy expression. ¡°Something big happened. Dad got called. And judging by the timing, he must have decided to call everyone else, your mom included.¡±

    He couldn¡¯t help but agree with her. And he also couldn¡¯t stop himself from feeling a chill in his guts at that.

    ¡°Whatever it is¡­ it can¡¯t be good,¡± he mumbled nervously.

    ¡°Wait, what?¡±

    But only when Kali said those words, her tone clearly surprised, they finally realized how differently they felt about this conclusion they had just reached.

    ¡°What do you mean this can¡¯t be good?¡± she asked, waving her arms up as if she was stating the obvious. ¡°This is great news. I mean, something awesome is about to happen!¡±

    ¡°Awesome? Are you insane? Kali, this is your dad we are talking about. Do you know what it means when your dad gets an urgent message?¡±

    ¡°Well, duh. It means there¡¯s going to be a fight somewhere,¡± Kali answered matter-of-factly. And Schrodinger couldn¡¯t help going wide-eyed as the girl said that. ¡°Who knows, it might even be a war!¡±

    He didn¡¯t know how to answer that. And the girl immediately picked up on his hesitation.

    ¡°Oh, come on Scotty. Don¡¯t give me that look. Where do you think all the stories that dad tells come from? You can¡¯t have war stories if you don¡¯t make them.¡±

    ¡°Kali, I¡­¡± he was at a loss for words, but he didn¡¯t even know why.

    So, he blurted out the only thing he had in his mind.

    ¡°Kali, fighting isn¡¯t good!¡±

    And the girl didn¡¯t even skip a beat before answering that.

    ¡°Scotty, just because you are bad at fighting, it doesn¡¯t mean that fighting is bad.¡±

    Schrodinger felt the fur on his tail bristle as soon as he heard that.

    ¡°Hey, watch your mouth!¡± he yelled, feeling a wave of heat cover his body as his temper rose. ¡°I¡¯m not bad at anything. It¡¯s just that I don¡¯t enjoy doing it and-!¡±

    He almost yelled that, but he only realized what he was saying after the words had left his mouth. And once he realized what he was saying, he closed his mouth so quickly that he almost bit his tongue. But still, he was honestly surprised at what he had just said, to the point that he even felt a wave of shame rushing through his body.

    After all, his mother was a warrior, and he was sure that she wanted him to become a warrior as well. She wouldn¡¯t be training him every single day if she didn¡¯t want him to follow in her footsteps. So, he couldn¡¯t help but feel a pang of shame at what he just said. Because he was sure his mother would be disappointed in him if she had heard him right now.

    And Kali picked up on his hesitation, even if she didn¡¯t know what he was thinking.

    ¡°Oh, so that¡¯s how we call it nowadays? We just say that we don¡¯t enjoy doing the stuff we are bad at?¡± she asked, her hands going to her hips as she put on a smug expression. Her words coming out in a mocking tone.

    It was obvious that she was just trying to get a rise out of Schrodinger.

    And judging by the shift in his expression, she could tell that she was succeeding.

    ¡°I mean, you are always moaning and complaining about how you don¡¯t feel like you¡¯re getting any better,¡± she said, watching his brows furrow and his face turn a into a scowl. ¡°But isn¡¯t that how things work? If you don¡¯t get better at something, then that means you¡¯re just bad at it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m still better than you!¡± he said, taking an angry half-step towards her. The heat inside his body growing even stronger.

    But he was so angry that he didn¡¯t even realize what was going on. He didn¡¯t even notice that he was doing exactly what she wanted. In fact, he didn¡¯t even notice that the girl had already turned her back to him. That she was making her way towards the wooden rack on the corner of the room where she knew the training weapons were kept.

    Then again, he also didn¡¯t realize he had balled his fists, or that he was gritting his teeth. So, there was no way he could realize that Kali was just leading him along.

    ¡°Oh really? You¡¯re better than me?¡± she asked. Taking the heavy training sword she knew was his from the rack and throwing it towards him with a small grunt of effort. ¡°Then prove it.¡±

    Schdoringer didn¡¯t answer her. Not with words, at least. He just caught the sword in midair and glared at her.

    Kali, on the other hand, just kept a smug smile on her face as she looked around the assorted training weapons. Because even though she didn¡¯t go to that training room frequently, she was still familiar enough with it to know exactly what she was looking for.

    And only when Kali picked up a training weapon for herself did Schrodinger finally realize she was actually following through with her words. Because sure, he was angry at her, but he was sure she was going to back down at any moment.

    So he couldn¡¯t help but raise an eyebrow as she picked up a blunted one-handed saber and stood in front of him, her eyes full of defiance.

    ¡°Are¡­ are you really doing this?¡± he asked, his tone still angry but now with doubt creeping into it.

    ¡°Why? Wanna back out like a scaredy-cat?¡±

    He felt his pulse quicken at her words. But still, he felt obligated to point out what he thought was obvious.

    ¡°You¡¯re not properly dressed,¡± he said, nodding at the sundress she was wearing. ¡°You can get hurt.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not going to hit me,¡± she answered.

    ¡°I¡¯m not going easy on you.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that kind of is the point.¡±

    Kali said that as she fell into a fighting stance. Holding her saber in front of her as she turned her body a bit sideways, in a strange fencing-like posture he had never really seen her use before.

    Schrodinger did the same, falling into the practiced stance his mother taught him. But he did it more in response to her than anything else. Because even though he was angry at her, that didn¡¯t exactly mean he wanted to fight her. He wanted her to get off his case, sure, but he didn¡¯t¡­

    The problem was that¡­

    It still felt wrong to even think about it, but he didn¡¯t really¡­ like to fight? He might have said those words without thinking, and to be honest he almost forgot about them after Kali began to taunt him. But still, those words still felt like¡­ an admission of sorts?

    And sure, he wanted to make Kali eat her own words. But he also didn¡¯t want to fight her?

    ¡°Your saber is one-handed. My sword is two-handed,¡± he said, hoping to make her back out. Even though part of him already knew it wouldn¡¯t make a difference. ¡°And I¡¯m stronger than you.¡±

    ¡°Will you just stop with the damn excuses already?!¡± she interrupted him.

    And in the next moment, the girl was already striking him.

    Kali closed the distance between them in a heartbeat, lashing out with the tip of her saber against his own sword. And he had no choice but to let his training and reflexes take over.

    Her strikes were quick. They were quick like only a one-handed weapon could be, with all the flourish and wristwork that followed. And in the span of a single second, she had hit his sword two times, one on each side of the weapon.

    Which Schrodinger knew didn¡¯t mean anything. Or rather, it just meant she was playing around. Because for all that she had made a show of speed, she had only aimed at his weapon. Furthermore, he had also blocked both of her strikes. And her hitting the tip of her saber against the much stronger middle part of his sword meant that his weapon didn¡¯t even budge from her strikes.

    ¡°Listen, if you¡¯re just going to mess around then I¡¯m leaving. I don¡¯t have time for this,¡± he said, even though he kept his guard up.

    But the only thing she did to answer him was smile.

    He let out a low sigh, realizing this was all pointless. However, the moment he was about to lower his sword and just walk away, he felt¡­ something.

    And he finally realized that Kali wasn¡¯t just smiling at him. She was also focusing.

    ¡°What¡­ what are you doing?¡± he asked, feeling the fur of his tail standing on its end. Realizing that the anger he was feeling at the girl was quickly being replaced by growing tension.

    But once again, she didn¡¯t answer. Instead, he just felt that strange sensation grow, until he finally realized what it was.

    Because Schrodinger could feel it, now. He could literally feel it. It was like a physical sensation of pressure against his skin. As if he was somehow submerging into water, or as if the air itself was pushing against him more strongly. But even though he could feel it on his skin, he could also only feel it on the side of his body that was facing Kali. As if the girl was a lamp, of sorts, and he could feel the light she was giving off with his body instead of see it with his eyes.

    He felt all of that, and he immediately understood what that was. Because he recognized that. Everyone could feel it differently, of course. Some could see it with their eyes, others could smell it, and Schrodinger could feel it with his skin, even if it was covered by clothes. But still, he immediately understood what was happening.

    That, he knew, was the unmistakable feeling of magic.

    ¡°Why are you doing this?¡± he asked, tightening his grip on the sword as he watched the girl furrow her brow with focus. As even her smile was being consumed by concentration.

    ¡°Just proving a point, Scotty,¡± she said with a heavy breath, even as the pressure on his skin grew stronger and stronger.

    ¡°Fights are supposed to be fair,¡± he said, using the same words his own mother told him time and again.

    ¡°Fights are supposed to be fights!¡± the girl answered.

    And once again she lunged at him.

    It happened in a flash. Kali did the same thing she did before. Aiming at his weapon with the tip of her saber. Striking at one side of his sword, and then circling her weapon around his with a flick of her wrist to hit it on the other side.

    Except that this time, her strikes came much more quickly.

    Kali didn¡¯t really move in a blur. Schrodinger could still follow her with his eyes, and she attacked him in the exact same way she did before. However, she was doing it a lot faster. Faster than the rest of his body could follow, and definitely faster than he could move his sword.

    And to his shock, whatever the girl¡¯s magic did, it didn¡¯t just make her move more quickly.

    Schrodinger¡¯s eyes went wide in surprise as the girl¡¯s saber hit his sword. Because when that happened, her saber struck with the strength of a hammer. The strength of her first blow threw his sword to one side, with him barely being able to keep it in his grip. And her second blow was even stronger, hitting the other side of his sword with so much strength that his hands hurt.

    Needless to say, that also left his guard wide open. His training sword, and his entire posture really, yanked completely out of position by the crushing blows of the much smaller saber.

    However, Kali didn¡¯t capitalize on that. And even though he was fully exposed for a full second, already wondering how little the pads on his training clothes would protect him, she didn¡¯t take the opportunity to finish him off. Instead, Kali took a step back, widening the distance between them.

    And Schrodinger didn¡¯t even have the time to think about it, as he raised his arms again with aching arms, before he blurted out what was at the forefront of his mind.

    ¡°Hey, that¡¯s cheating!¡± he shouted. Trying, and failing, to keep the shock out of his voice.

    ¡°No,¡± she replied, her voice at the same time strained with effort and triumphant, ¡°this is called winning.¡±

    ¡°You haven¡¯t won¡­ yet,¡± he said. Although he immediately regretted it. After all, in these kinds of training duels, you won by landing a blow on the opponent¡¯s body. However, he definitely didn¡¯t want Kali to hit him with something like that. Because stronger physiology or not, he was almost sure she might break one of his bones if she hit him.

    But still, the girl didn¡¯t lunge at him again. Instead, she kept her distance, her expression becoming even more strained as she continued to focus.

    Which caused a cold wave of dread to wash over him. After all, he could feel the pressure of her magic growing even stronger. In fact, he could even see a few droplets of sweat forming on her face, as she strained to do¡­ something.

    But most of all, he felt the weight of fear press around him, because he knew the girl could be utterly insane at times.

    ¡°You¡¯re right, Scotty. I haven¡¯t won yet,¡± she said, stressing that last word just as the pressure on Schrodinger¡¯s skin reached its peak. ¡°But only because I want to show you something.¡±

    And with that, the sensation on his skin shifted. That ghostly sensation of pressure was still there, but it also became hot. A false heat that he knew wouldn¡¯t really warm him, but that still felt like he was standing under the sun.

    Or as if Kali had just become a small bonfire.

    ¡°In fact, I have been meaning to show you this for a while now, even since mom taught me this!¡± Kali said.

    And Schrodinger finally understood why the girl had always been taught to use that flimsy one-handed saber.

    Because with an unusually strained movement, the girl reached out to the dull blade of her saber with her free hand. The shift in pressure he felt on his skin telling him that Kali had focused all of that magical heat on the palm of her hand.

    And the moment her free hand touched the saber, the entire blade of the weapon was engulfed in flames. With Schrodinger letting out a surprised yelp, that was all but drowned out by the girl¡¯s maniacal laughter.

    ¡°Ahahahahahahah! Pretty awesome, isn¡¯t it Scotty?!¡± she said, going back to her stance and flexing her legs. Making it very clear that she was preparing to lunge at him again. ¡°Now I¡¯m ready to win this duel!¡±

    Their fight didn¡¯t last much longer after that point.

    In fact, it ended immediately, as Schrodinger¡¯s arms immediately went limp with fear at the cackling girl in front of him.

 1-03

    To say that Schrodinger was ¡°just¡± having a bad day was an understatement.

    He was not just having a bad day. He was, in fact, miserable. Or at least as miserable as he thought he could possibly be.

    Because Kali was not the type of girl that was graceful in her victory. Oh no. There were days when Schrodinger thought she was completely unable to be graceful at all, regardless of the context. However, much like she was not one to let an insult go, she definitely wouldn¡¯t allow an opportunity to gloat pass her by either.

    Which meant, of course, that she took it upon herself to make Schrodinger¡¯s morning as unpleasant as possible. Even after they arrived at school, she took every opportunity to mock, taunt, and generally annoy him in whatever way she could. To the point that, as they neared the end of the last class, his seat was surrounded by the dozens of paper balls she had thrown at him throughout the morning. All of them with some sort of drawing of a sad cat, fire, or a sad cat on fire in it.

    Not for the first time, he cursed the fact that the girl sat a few desks behind him, and that they were in the same classroom at all to begin with. In fact, he actually feared that she would try to set his tail on fire at some point.

    But his bad mood wasn¡¯t just Kali¡¯s fault. Granted, she was making it worse than it needed to be. However, he had more reasons to scowl than just Kali¡¯s latest attempt at driving him up a wall.

    Specifically, he also hated the classes he was having that day.

    Schrodinger didn¡¯t hate school in general. That didn¡¯t mean he loved it, or that he even performed as well as some of his classmates. But he also did not hate it like some of the other children did. And normally, he was quite capable of paying enough attention to get passing grades. Or at least to get good enough grades for his mom not to nag at him so much.

    However, that only applied to most classes.

    Because even though he could do well enough in most classes, there was one subject in particular that he just couldn¡¯t. In fact, there was one class in particular that he simply hated. That he disliked on such a personal level that, on a good day, the best he could do was simply tune out and not pay any attention.

    And that was the class he was stuck in at that moment.

    Schrodinger was sitting on the white-blue metal chair he always sat on, near the middle of the classroom. His elbows resting on the hard surface of the metal desk as he tried his best to focus on the notebook he had in front of him.

    He was trying, and he was failing.

    Because even though he knew he was just feeling that way because Kali was making him angry, he couldn¡¯t help but realize how hard and uncomfortable his seat was. Granted, that was something he almost never noticed, and that he didn¡¯t even think about during other classes. But at that exact moment, he was almost in pain thanks to the solid surface he was sitting on.

    The pages of his notebook were also completely empty, without a single word or figure written on its paper. And even that was somehow annoying. Normally, during that class, he would be able to at least scribble or draw something to help him pass the time. But the scowl on his face was so heavy that he didn¡¯t even have the energy to do that. He could only wait for the seconds to slowly drag themselves by as the teacher went on with his lecture, walking this and that way as he continued to explain whatever was being displayed by the projector.

    And just like clockwork, the moment the teacher turned his back to the class, he felt yet another light thud against the back of his head. The sensation of yet another paper ball hitting him being followed by the minute, almost imperceptible sound of Kali snickering at him from a few rows back. The noise almost tickling the cat ears on his head, making them twitch slightly.

    Furthermore, he had no idea if it happened by chance, or if the girl¡¯s aim was just getting better with practice. But the paper ball hit the back of his head at such an angle that it somehow bounced upwards, the glancing hit arching over his head and landing squarely on the middle of his desk. Right on top of his empty notebook.

    He felt his temper rise at that, more than it did when she hit him with the previous paper balls. Because sure, she had taunted him the whole morning, during every single class and even during the short breaks between them. But still, there was something about that last paper ball, laying on his desk as if it had been tenderly placed there, that just flipped a switch inside of him.

    It wasn¡¯t as if a dam inside of him had broken. Not exactly. But still, he could feel that whatever cup he was filling inside of him was finally overflowing. That he had finally reached the point where he couldn¡¯t just stand there and do nothing.

    Still, it wasn¡¯t as if he could just grab the offending paper ball and throw it back at her. He very dearly wanted to, of course, but he just couldn¡¯t. Because one, doing that would confirm to the girl that she finally got to him, and he knew that would only make things worse. And two, because of the very simple reason that he couldn¡¯t accurately throw anything at her without turning around to face her, which in turn would probably draw the teacher¡¯s attention.

    So, he had to settle for the second best thing he could do, which was imagining that Kali was the paper ball in front of him and sloooowly ripping it apart, bit by b-

    ¡°Schrodinger? I asked you a question.¡±

    Until the voice of his teacher startled him back into reality.

    Schrodinger nearly jumped out of his seat, shaking his head as he looked around. Only to be greeted by the sight of all of his classmates looking at him, as well as a small pile of neatly ripped paper that was lying on his desk. And of course, when he finally raised his head he saw the glaring figure of his teacher, looking down at him.

    And just like that, all of the anger he was feeling disappeared. Replaced by the icy grip of panic, as if a bucket of cold water had just been poured on him.

    ¡°Well?¡± the teacher asked, arms crossed as if he did not need to elaborate.

    To which Schrodinger couldn¡¯t answer except by remaining frozen. Because what? Well what? What sort of answer was he expecting? What did his teacher even ask him to begin with? His eyes darted between the teacher and the projector, wondering if there was something there that might help him.

    Although it didn¡¯t take long to realize he couldn¡¯t even understand what was being displayed in the projector either.

    Until finally, the teacher just shook his head. Turning his attention back to the classroom at large and continuing with his lecture.

    But not before he gave Schrodinger one last, cutting remark.

    ¡°See me after class, Schrodinger.¡±

    The teacher¡¯s voice, as he continued the class, all but drowned out the hushed whispers from the other children. Not that Schrodinger was paying any attention to them. All he was left with was the cold sense of shame. Both because he was singled out like that, and because he realized he deserved it.

    He didn¡¯t even hear the snickering, muffled laughter that came from Kali.

    - - -

    ¡°Sit down, Schrodinger,¡± were the first words his teacher said as soon as they entered his office.

    To which Schrodinger nervously complied. Sitting on one of the adult-sized, slightly large chairs that were available. Looking around as he worriedly wondered what might be waiting for him.

    Father Jerikho, like many of the teachers in his school, was a priest of Dango. However, Schrodinger was surprised at how utterly¡­ well, at how normal his office was. Schrodinger never really got into any kind of trouble at school before, and he had never been called to a teacher¡¯s office before. So, he couldn¡¯t help but look around and see how the rumors were all wrong. He saw shelves lined with hardcover books, as well as a humble workstation on his desk, and everything else one might expect to see in a regular office. But much more importantly, he saw none of the statues, chandeliers or oversized religious scrolls his classmates swore would be there, whenever they claimed that their religious professors certainly worked in miniature churches.

    Still, none of that really helped him feel any calmer. In fact, it only had the opposite effect. It just reminded him of the fact that he was indeed at a teacher¡¯s office.

    ¡°Now, Schrodinger, do you know why I called you here?¡± Jerikho¡¯s voice snapped Schrodinger out of his thoughts, as his teacher sat down opposite to him and spoke to him.

    And he couldn¡¯t help but feel his ears fall slightly as he answered the only way he could.

    ¡°Because I wasn¡¯t paying attention in class¡­¡± he said, the shame in his voice making him sound even more dejected.

    His teacher nodded at his words, crossing his arms as he did.

    Father Jerikho was a thin-looking man. His brown-tanned skin and weathered face, coupled with the rectangle glasses he wore, definitely gave him the appearance of an aged scholar. However, Schrodinger had no idea of how old the priest truly was. And given how many species did not live past a century, he knew it was rude to ask.

    Still, his close-cropped grey hair, together with the grey shirt and black pants he wore, always brought to Schrodinger¡¯s mind the image of a particularly old tree.

    ¡°Yes, and I am still very disappointed in you. But I also called you here because¡­?¡± Jerikho said, waving a hand for him to continue talking.

    Of course, Schrodinger also knew the answer to that question. He knew what would come next. He did something wrong, and he was being called out for it. So that could only mean that something bad was about to happen to him.

    ¡°Because¡­ you are also going to tell my parents¡­ and give me extra homework¡­ and I¡¯ll be punished for what I did and¡­¡± he said, the horrible parade of what awaited him in the future coming out of his mouth, one at a time. His tail completely flopped behind him as he said that.

    ¡°I could do that, yes,¡± Jerikho answered, ¡°but I won¡¯t. I didn¡¯t call you here for any of that, and I don¡¯t want to punish you. I called you here for another reason.¡±

    Schrodinger¡¯s ears perked up slightly at that, his expression clearly surprised.

    ¡°The thing I¡¯m much more worried about, Schrodinger, is why you weren¡¯t paying attention during my class. Is anything the matter? Is it something you would like to talk about?¡±

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    Although as soon as he heard Jerikho¡¯s question, his ears fell down once again.

    Because there it was, creeping into his chest. That same feeling of inadequacy he felt whenever he was training with his mother. Whenever he remembered that no matter what he did, he just wouldn¡¯t be able to make it.

    After all, there was a reason he didn¡¯t like Jerikho¡¯s class.

    ¡°You know why¡­¡± he mumbled. Although he wasn¡¯t sure if he was talking to himself or to the priest.

    ¡°You might think I know why,¡± Jerikho answered. Speaking more slowly than before. Clearly choosing his words carefully before speaking. ¡°I did hear a few things¡­ but never from you. That¡¯s why I wanted to talk to you, Schrodinger.¡±

    And as he heard those words, the feeling inside Schrodinger¡¯s chest grew heavier. To the point that he couldn¡¯t stop himself from answering.

    ¡°You know why!¡± he suddenly yelled, almost blurting out the words. ¡°It¡¯s because I can¡¯t use magic! You teach lessons on magic, and I can¡¯t use it. So I don¡¯t understand why I have to learn about it!¡±

    It was so frustrating to even say that out loud that he didn¡¯t even realize he had just yelled at a teacher. In fact, he actually felt angry that Jerikho had all but forced him to say that. After all, what he just said wasn¡¯t exactly a secret to begin with. Kali knew he couldn¡¯t use magic, all of his friends knew he couldn¡¯t use magic, and Schrodinger was sure that all of his teachers knew it as well. Especially Jerikho.

    Especially given who Schrodinger¡¯s father was. Because he knew that everyone thought he should be good at it, just like his father. He knew everyone expected that, and that they were all disappointed that he wasn¡¯t.

    So having to say those words felt as bad as having to admit that he wasn¡¯t good at fighting either.

    But Father Jerikho, on the other hand, only answered by raising his hands in a placating gesture. Calmly waiting until Schrodinger was done. In fact, although the young boy didn¡¯t realize it, the priest¡¯s expression was the very opposite of disappointed or judgmental.

    ¡°Schrodinger, I know that. I understand that,¡± Jerikho said back to him, ¡°but a lot of people can¡¯t use magic.¡±

    ¡°No. A lot of people can¡¯t use most kinds of magic,¡± Schrodinger answered. His tone, and even his face, still angry. ¡°A lot of people are bad at it. Or they never bother to learn it. Or they just don¡¯t care about it. I know all of that! But I can¡¯t use any magic.¡±

    He knew what he was talking about, because it was the truth. The ability to even generate magical energy relied a lot on one¡¯s genetics. Some species had an easier time doing it, while others generated very little of it. Hard work and practice could help compensate for it, in some cases, but every person who dedicated themselves to practicing magic had a long road to walk one way or the other.

    However, there were some cases where a person¡¯s genes were just a complete flop. There were some people that produced so little magical energy it couldn¡¯t even be distinguished from the loose magic that was present in the air.

    And although those cases were very rare to begin with, they also happened mostly to people whose genes were more divergent. To people who were half-blooded like Schrodinger, who had parents from different species. And although most half-blooded people turned out perfectly normal, like Kali, there was a small number of them that just didn¡¯t.

    ¡°I know everyone thinks I should be good at it. Even I wish I was good at it! Everyone in my class is already learning spells from their parents, and I¡¯m not. Because I can¡¯t do it at all! So I just don¡¯t understand why I even have to go to your class to begin with!¡±

    Schrodinger only noticed he was yelling after he stopped talking, when he realized how quiet the office turned when he closed his mouth. And a small part of him thought he had just done something he shouldn¡¯t have. A small part of him was sure that now, for sure, he was in trouble, and that Jerikho would talk to his parents regardless of what he said before.

    But still, he couldn¡¯t help it. He just couldn¡¯t help feeling angry, or ashamed, or just wrong. It didn¡¯t matter how much he was told it wasn¡¯t his fault, because he still felt like it was.

    It was his body, after all. His genes, or whatever else. So, if there was something wrong with them, that meant there was something wrong with him. And it didn¡¯t matter if he didn¡¯t do anything, because he was still to blame.

    He felt the slightest hint of a burning sensation coming to his eyes, but he quickly blinked it away.

    And several seconds passed before Father Jerikho spoke.

    ¡°Schrodinger, this might surprise you,¡± Jerikho said, very gently, ¡°but I actually want to help you. I am your friend, Schrodinger. Not just some random teacher who teaches you classes every other day.¡±

    He listened to the priest¡¯s words, but he couldn¡¯t bear to face him. Partly because he was ashamed of having yelled at the much older man, and partly because¡­ well, he wasn¡¯t really sure.

    Still, he listened to his words.

    ¡°And I want you to understand that I¡¯m not trying to teach you how to use magic. I want to teach you and your classmates about magic. Magical energy, and magic in general, is a very important part of our lives. Of everyone¡¯s lives. So, it¡¯s important that you learn how it works, and why, the same way you need to learn about math or history.¡±

    He listened, but he didn¡¯t say anything. To be honest, Schrodinger didn¡¯t even know what he could have said even if he wanted to.

    ¡°So I¡¯m not going to tell your parents. I¡¯m not going to punish you, or anything you said, and you are not in trouble. But I need you to understand that studying about magic is still good for you. It¡¯s important for you, even, because there are some things you just can¡¯t navigate life without knowing.¡±

    Schrodinger had his arms crossed, and he was still looking down at his own feet. Because he felt bad about it. About everything. He wasn¡¯t sure if he was angry, or disappointed, or ashamed, or something else entirely. But he was at least sure he felt bad.

    After all, he understood Father Jerikho was right. He knew that what his teacher was saying made sense.

    But still, none of that changed the fact that he still couldn¡¯t¡­

    ¡°I just feel¡­¡± Schrodinger began to say, hesitantly. Not even sure what exactly was going on through his mind as he spoke. ¡°I just feel so stupid. Because I know everyone else in class gets it. For everyone else, learning about magic is actually useful. But for me it¡¯s so¡­¡±

    He trailed off, finally looking up in time to see that Jerikho was slowly nodding at his words.

    However, despite Schrodinger¡¯s own downtrodden expression, Jerikho had a small smile on his face. As if he understood exactly what the boy meant to say, even if Schrodinger himself didn¡¯t.

    ¡°In that case, why don¡¯t we make a deal?¡± the priest asked. ¡°Because I understand what you are saying. I really do. And you are right, I can see how my class is a lot different for you than it is for your classmates. So, a deal between the two of us.¡±

    Schrodinger looked up to him with a doubtful expression. He was already confused at how Father Jerikho just agreed with him, instead of pushing back. But what did he mean by a deal?

    ¡°I mean, your friends probably use what they learn in class whenever they are learning spells, right? While to you, that¡¯s all just theory that you can¡¯t really do anything with.¡±

    But Jerikho continued talking, despite his confusion. And soon enough, Schrodinger found himself nodding to what Jerikho was saying.

    ¡°So how about this. I promise that you don¡¯t have to do any more of your homework, and in return you promise me to pay attention in class. But I really mean it when I say paying attention,¡± Jerikho said, his face somehow stern and kind at the same time. ¡°I want to see you taking notes, and answering questions, and actually learning about it. But if you do that, no homework anymore. Does that sound fair?¡±

    ¡°Y-you¡­ you can do that?¡± he asked without even thinking, to which Jerikho answered with a short laugh.

    ¡°As long as we keep this between us? Of course I can,¡± the priest answered with a smile. ¡°Because like I said, I truly believe this subject is important, Schrodinger, and I really just want to help you learn. So, again, do we have a deal?¡±

    ¡°I-uhm¡­ well, yes!¡± he answered, excitedly nodding at the priest, still not believing what he just heard.

    And Jerikho couldn¡¯t help but smile himself, noticing how the previous gloom in the boy¡¯s expression had finally disappeared.

    ¡°Then I¡¯m glad we have reached an agreement, Schrodinger. Now, I¡¯ll keep you to your word, so you better be sharp next class. But still, off you go then.¡±

    Schrodinger hesitated for a few moments, still confused at how he was about to leave a teacher¡¯s office without so much as a scolding. In fact, still dazed at how well everything was turning out.

    ¡°Oh, and one last thing,¡± the priest said, right as Schrodinger was about to leave. ¡°And I really mean this. If you ever need to ask anything about class¡­ or even if you just want to talk. If you want to talk about anything at all, my door is always open.¡±

    ¡°Yes sir. And uh¡­ and thank you, Father Jerikho,¡± he said, leaving the office right after.

    - - -

    Schrodinger¡¯s body felt unusually light, as he walked away from Jerikho¡¯s office. His mind felt strangely blank, almost hazy, while he tried to process what had just happened. As if he was in a dream of sorts.

    Because sure, from a logical perspective not much had happened. He was just a student, who had a conversation with his teacher, and that was it.

    However, from Schrodinger¡¯s point of view, that wasn¡¯t really how he¡­ felt?

    It was hard for him to put it into words. After all, if he had just been scolded then that would have been it. If Jerikho had sat him down and told him that he was disappointed in Schrodinger, then¡­ well, it wouldn¡¯t have been pleasant, but it would have just been another day for him. Just another expectation he couldn¡¯t meet, to be added to his long list of shortcomings. Just another failure in the eyes of yet another pair of eyes he knew were always silently judging him.

    But again, nothing like that really happened. And that made him unsure of how he felt. Part of him believed that he was just setting himself up for failure, and that his ¡°deal¡± with Jerikho would somehow backfire. And that part of him could already picture the priest shaking his head in disappointment, maybe a few weeks down the line, when Schrodinger inevitably messed up again.

    And yet, a smaller part of him couldn¡¯t help but think that¡­

    ¡°Scotty! There you are!¡±

    Schrodinger was snapped out of his thoughts as someone called out to him, shaking his head for a few moments as he blinked.

    He was still in school, walking down the long corridors that would take him to the entrance. His conversation with Jerikho couldn¡¯t have lasted more than twenty minutes. But he was well acquainted with the excited crowd of rushing children that formed as soon as the classes finished. So, he knew that those twenty-ish minutes had been more than enough time for the place to become completely empty.

    Or rather, it was almost completely empty.

    Staring at him with a worried expression was a girl, who was only slightly shorter than him and had long brown hair. And Schrodinger immediately noticed that she was standing by the door that led to his own classroom, to the point that he could almost picture her nervously peeking into it while trying to look for him.

    She was unusually cute, and even though she was only wearing a school uniform she somehow looked like a princess. Her shoes were shiny and well-kept, which was certainly unusual for someone of their age. The skirt of her uniform actually made her look like she was wearing a dress, and it definitely helped that it matched the color of her blue eyes. And the fact she wore silky-looking gloves, white like the long-sleeved shirts they were both wearing, only helped drive that impression home.

    Of course, Schrodinger knew who that girl was. After all, there were only two people who called him ¡°Scotty,¡± and he knew for a fact that Kali would never wait for him after school was done.

    ¡°Marianne,¡± he said her name, only half-surprised to see her there.

    ¡°I asked Kali where you were, but she just shrugged! Did something happen?¡± she asked, and it was clear how anxious she was just from the tone of her voice.

    Schrodinger had to suppress a sigh before he answered her.

    Marianne was a good girl. She was ten years old, but Schrodinger swore that she worried more than an adult. But still, she was friends with him and Kali even though they were not in the same class, or even on the same grade.

    In fact, that was why she was waiting for him. The three of them always left school together when classes were over. Or at least they did that on most days, seeing how Kali was prone to leave them behind every now and then.

    ¡°Nothing really happened, don¡¯t worry,¡± he said as he kept walking down the corridor, waving for her to follow him.

    ¡°How can I not worry? Kali had that¡­ that grin on her face, you know the one,¡± she said with a frown as she walked next to him. ¡°Did Kali get you into trouble again?¡±

    Schrodinger hesitated on how to answer that for a moment.

    Because it wouldn¡¯t be a lie to tell her that yes, Kali got him into trouble. After all, it was that blasted girl¡¯s fault that he was called by a teacher. And he still wanted to get back at her for the several hours he just had to suffer, getting hit by paper balls again and again, as well as¡­ well, everything else.

    However, he also knew that, depending on what he told Marianne, things could just get worse. Kali generally treated Marianne well, or at least way better than she treated him. But Schrodinger definitely didn¡¯t trust Kali to keep doing that if, for example, Marianne tried to scold her or something.

    So, in the end, he really thought it was for the best to tell her that¡­

    ¡°Kali didn¡¯t get me into trouble,¡± he said with a sigh, ¡°I just wasn¡¯t paying attention in class. That¡¯s all.¡±

    With that, he watched as Marianne¡¯s expression softened a little. Not much, of course, but at least she didn¡¯t know he had been fighting with Kali again.

    ¡°And by the way, how was Pandora during classes today? Did anything happen?¡± he asked, trying his best to ease her up a little more by changing subjects.

    ¡°Pandora? She was fine today. Nothing strange happened,¡± she said, to which Schrodinger answered with a thankful nod.

    Marianne was just a few months older than Pandora, so they were in the same grade. And by a happy coincidence, the two girls were also in the same classroom. So, Schrodinger usually asked Marianne to keep an eye on his sister. Because even though he had seen Pandora earlier in the morning, it had already happened that her sickness would take a turn for the worse at school, and the adults would only bother to tell him a lot later.

    ¡°She looked a bit more cheerful than usual,¡± Marianne continued.

    ¡°That¡¯s nice to hear.¡±

    ¡°And her mom came by to pick her up as soon as the bells rang.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that sounds like auntie Juno.¡±

    ¡°¡­ your aunt scares me, Scotty¡­¡± she said, clearly hesitant. Her voice suddenly low, almost in a whisper.

    And Schrodinger couldn¡¯t help but look over his shoulder before answering. Some strange sensation that he was being watched creeping up on him.

    ¡°She scares me too,¡± he said, also lowering his voice. ¡°I think she scares everyone.¡±

    The two of them fell silent after that, their steps turning a little more brisk as they made their way back to their homes.

 1-04

    Even though the entirety of Holy Throne was out there, Schrodinger never really left the Vatican.

    Of course, he wasn¡¯t allowed to leave it to begin with. At least not unaccompanied. After all, Holy Throne was a very large city, and Schrodinger was simply too young to wander in a place like that all by himself.

    But still, the biggest reason why he almost never left the Vatican was because he didn¡¯t need to. Everything he needed, every aspect of his life so far, was already contained within the walls of the Vatican. He and his family lived there, the school he went to was there, and even his mother¡¯s workplace was there¡­ although he wasn¡¯t sure exactly where.

    Still, that was the life he had, and he knew he wasn¡¯t the only one. Living inside the Vatican, and having parents that were somehow connected to the Theocracy or the clergy, was true for many children. It certainly was true for Kali, for example. In fact, it wouldn¡¯t be wrong to say that the Vatican by itself was like a small town, both in terms of size and activity.

    To be honest, even though the Vatican was a single, castle-like structure, it was still an enormous one. And even though he had lived there his entire life, Schrodinger knew that he had not yet seen more than a third of the place.

    So, it was no surprise that one of his most prominent pastimes, whenever he was free, was to wander around the castle and explore it.

    And he was not alone in that regard.

    ¡°Hey Scotty, are you still mad at me?¡± Kali asked with a serious expression, her arms crossed.

    To which Schrodinger couldn¡¯t help but answer with¡­ suspicion. Raising an eyebrow, even, at the suddenness of her question. Kali never asked him stuff like that.

    ¡°Do you care?¡± he asked back, staring at her for a few moments and wondering if there was anything wrong with her.

    ¡°No,¡± she answered without skipping a beat. ¡°But it¡¯s a lot easier to just ask than for me to try and figure it out.¡±

    And there she was, the callous and selfish Kali that he knew so well. He made a show of rolling his eyes at her, but he knew it wouldn¡¯t make any difference.

    ¡°Besides, I can never tell what expression you have on your face when you¡¯re like that,¡± she continued nonchalantly. ¡°So, it would be hard to figure it out even if I wanted to.¡±

    Schrodinger looked down at himself, only then remembering that he was indeed in his cat form. But given how comfortable he was, lying on a wooden bench and basking in the sun, he could hardly blame himself for having slipped into that form at some point.

    Still, he answered her by turning back into his boyish form with a sigh.

    ¡°No, I¡¯m not mad at you. It¡¯s been three days already. And I also know by now that being mad at you doesn¡¯t make any difference,¡± he said, feeling only a twinge of irritation when the girl nodded in agreement with a satisfied expression. Acting as if he had just said something sagely and wise.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m glad you have seen the light. Although I have to say, this was an unusually fast cooldown from you. Oh, I know, did the princess help you get over your hurt feelings?¡± she asked, saying those last few words in a rather childish, mocking tone.

    ¡°You do realize, Kali, that you calling Marianne a princess is rich, right? I mean, you¡¯re the Courser¡¯s daughter. If anyone here is a princess, it¡¯s definitely you.¡±

    In an unusual display of defeat, the girl answered him by simply sticking out her tongue. Waving a hand for him to move a bit from the bench he was lying on so she could sit next to him.

    ¡°Anyways, where is that girl? Doesn¡¯t she know that it¡¯s rude to be late?¡± she said idly. But Schrodinger simply shrugged, closing his eyes and simply relaxing under the light of the sun.

    For all intents and purposes, the place they were in was actually a place of worship. The wooden bench that he and Kali were sitting on was just a few paces away from a small altar of Dango, fitted with a nearby station that could play hymns or generally assist with prayers. The ground was grassy and soft, with stone steps leading all the way to the altar, and the entire place was surrounded by tall trees. To the point that they felt like they were on a clearing, inside a forest.

    And all of that was by design. That small site was indeed meant for silent prayer and reverence, with the midday sun shining down on the altar at a perfect angle. And it was definitely not an area where two children should be lounging about.

    But, in their opinion, that was exactly what made that place ideal for them.

    Because the Vatican was very large. It was large, its towers were tall and imposing, and it stood as a monument of faith at the center of Holy Throne. However, for all its grandiosity, the Vatican wasn¡¯t exactly at the very center of everything. After all, the Vatican itself was also shaped like a ring, to the point that, when seen from a distance, its towers gave the impression that the whole structure was like a gigantic crown.

    However, within the great ring that was the Vatican, enclosed within its walls and guarded on all sides by its spires, was a garden.

    Although calling it a mere garden would be a disservice. Like saying that a lake was just a puddle, or that a lion was just a cat. Because the garden, or ¡°great garden¡± as some called it, was incredibly large. So large, in fact, that it had several different areas to it. Some parts of the garden had the more traditional and manicured flowerbeds one might expect at the front of a person¡¯s home, while others were like small forests, with nothing but stone steps to guide one¡¯s path and with tall trees that blocked out the sun.

    The garden occupied the entirety of the empty space within the ring-like Vatican, but despite its size it was still lovingly kept by a dedicated branch of the clergy. After all, it existed and was maintained at the request of the Pope himself. And given how the gates of the Vatican were located at its south, and the Archcathedral of Dango was located at its north, the gardens acted like a final pathway that all pilgrims shared in before finishing their journey.

    But of course, despite all the zeal of its keepers, it was almost impossible to perfectly care for something of that size.

    ¡°Guys¡­ I¡¯m sorry¡­ I couldn¡¯t find the way here and¡­¡±

    Schrodinger opened his eyes, realizing that he had somehow been napping. It took him a few moments to understand that he was listening to Marianne¡¯s voice, and a few more seconds after that to notice that Kali had already gotten up from the bench.

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    And like always, Kali¡¯s impatient voice was completely at odds with Marianne¡¯s apologetic tone.

    ¡°You couldn¡¯t find your way here again? C¡¯mon, we hang out here all the time!¡±

    ¡°Sorry, sorry¡­¡±

    Schrodinger sat up, shaking his head as he looked towards the direction their voices were coming from.

    The garden they were in existed first and foremost for the enjoyment of the Pope. And it was not unusual for His Holiness to stroll around it on the rare occasions he was on the planet, after whatever missionary efforts he was leading on some distant planet. However, given how many pilgrims made their way through it every day, it was also dotted with places of worship. Shrines, small churches, and even plain resting areas where people could stop during the long trek through the garden.

    In fact, there were so many small shrines sprinkled through the garden that some of them were simply forgotten by the gardener clerics. Some of them, especially in the forested areas, were quite literally cut off from the rest of the garden, the clearing around its altar surrounded by trees and the stony steps that led to them overtaken by roots.

    And that was exactly where they were at that moment. At a small shrine in the forested area of the garden that had probably not seen a pilgrim in months, or perhaps years. One where the surrounding trees weren¡¯t large enough to block the sun, and that was relatively close to the edges of the Vatican itself. They always met there, whenever they had a day off, treating that place like a secret clubhouse of sorts.

    Blinking his drowsiness away, Schrodinger watched as Kali once again emerged from the tree line. Forcing her way through a pair of bushes without a care in the world, as she dragged along a very unkept Marianne, her dress dirtied and her brown hair filled with stray leaves.

    ¡°And I keep telling you, stop dressing up on the days we don¡¯t have school! You know we¡¯re gonna be doing this kind of stuff,¡± Kali said as she finally let go of the girl¡¯s hand. ¡°Wearing a skirt like that is just begging for you to get scratches on your legs.¡±

    ¡°But mom says that-¡°

    ¡°I don¡¯t care what your mom says. Start wearing pants!¡±

    Schrodinger was about tell Kali to stop being mean to Marianne when he finally noticed he had whiskers. He must have changed back into a cat after dozing off, he thought. He immediately turned back into a boy as he stood up from the bench, which caused the two girls to stop arguing. Or rather, it made Kali stop telling Marianne off.

    ¡°Oh, hi there Scotty.¡±

    ¡°Look who finally decided to wake up.¡±

    Ignoring Kali¡¯s words, he said hi to Marianne. Making his way towards her without thinking much about it, while he shook off his drowsiness, to help her pick off the leaves that were still stuck to her hair. Nodding his head idly as she thanked him under her breath

    ¡°Anyways, now that we are all finally here,¡± Kali continued saying as she made her way to the center of the clearing, ¡°let me tell you two what we will be doing today!¡±

    - - -

    ¡°Scotty¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes Marianne?¡±

    ¡°I think Kali might actually be a bad influence¡­¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re figuring that out just now?¡±

    Schrodinger and Marianne were both whispering to each other as they talked. Although, to be honest, they were doing it for entirely different reasons. The girl was whispering because she was afraid the subject of their conversation might hear what they were saying. Schrodinger, on the other hand, was just focused on what he was doing.

    ¡°Please don¡¯t make fun of me like she does, Scotty.¡±

    ¡°Oh, no, that was actually an honest question. I thought you realized that several months ago. I mean, look at what we are doing right now.¡±

    He had the vague impression that Marianne pursed her lips as he said that, but he couldn¡¯t be sure. He really was concentrating on the thing he was working on.

    The three of them were, technically, still inside the garden. And the three of them were, very technically, still in a place where they were allowed to be. After all, they were inside one of the many small chapels of the garden, even if it was one that was out of the way and rarely visited by either the clergy or passing pilgrims.

    However, no amount of technicalities could save them from the fact that they were doing something that they shouldn¡¯t be doing.

    Because although the chapel itself was open to the public, the heavy door that led to its backroom definitely wasn¡¯t. In fact, said door was not only originally hidden behind a large painting of the Pope, but it was also chained shut and locked by a large padlock that glowed with magic.

    And said padlock was the reason as to why Schrodinger was so focused to begin with. After all, he was trying to pick the padlock, using a few hairpins that Kali gave him. He was trying to pick the padlock while Marianne held it with her ungloved hands, so the locking magic couldn¡¯t trigger, and while Kali kept watch by the entrance doors.

    ¡°A few months back we would just hang around the castle and explore places we had never seen before, or maybe go pilgrim-watching,¡± he said, pausing for a few moments as he gently pushed a hairpin at a particular angle, ¡°then Kali decided that was boring, and started dragging us to places we weren¡¯t supposed to go.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s exactly my point,¡± Marianne said, her voice so tense that he could feel the effort it took her to keep whispering. ¡°What we are doing is bad, Scotty. And what if we get caught? What if we get in trouble? This feels like that whole hangar day all over again.¡±

    Schrodinger stopped his lockpicking for a few moments, finally looking up at Marianne. But not because of what she had just said. After all, he was already used to the younger girl worrying about basically everything. Instead, he stopped because he could tell she was actually getting upset.

    The tone of her voice was trembling. The frown on her face was heavier than normal. The magic of the padlock, that she was touching with her skin, was so weak he couldn¡¯t even feel it anymore.

    ¡°Marianne,¡± he said, looking her in the eyes, ¡°I promise you we aren¡¯t doing anything bad, and I promise you we won¡¯t get into trouble.¡±

    ¡°But¡­ But we-¡° she said, her hands shaking slightly as she nodded towards the heavy lock she was holding. But he continued to talk before she could finish that sentence.

    ¡°I really mean it, Marianne. I know that what we are doing looks bad, but I promise you it isn¡¯t. If this was a place we weren¡¯t supposed to get into, then three kids with a hairpin wouldn¡¯t be able to open it in a few minutes.¡±

    She hesitated at that, and he could see that Marianne was thinking about what he said. About how that was just a backdoor of a small chapel, in the middle of the wide-open gardens. However, he also saw that she was just afraid. And that really pushed something inside of him, more than anything else.

    So, he took a short glance at the entrance to make sure Kali wasn¡¯t listening in on them before he continued to speak.

    ¡°On top of that, I promise you I will take the fall if anything happens. If we are caught, which we won¡¯t be, I promise I¡¯ll tell everyone I forced you to come along, and that you didn¡¯t want to do any of this. But much more importantly¡­¡±

    Schrodinger stopped talking for a short moment, as he very carefully let go of the hairpins that were inside the padlock. Leaving them precariously in place as he took Marianne¡¯s hands on his own. He saw the girl¡¯s eyes widen as he did that, and he felt that strange and warm sensation he always felt from her skin. But he knew he didn¡¯t have any magic in his body, so he didn¡¯t really care about doing that.

    ¡°¡­ much more importantly,¡± he said, still looking at her, ¡°we really, really aren¡¯t going to do this if you don¡¯t want to. So, if you want us to stop, you can tell me right now and we¡¯ll stop. I¡¯ll tell Kali I couldn¡¯t pick the lock, and she will just have to be mad at me like always. So, what do you say?¡±

    He could almost see the opposing thoughts battling behind Marianne¡¯s eyes, watching her fidget slightly as they both held on to the padlock. But he patiently waited for her to come to a decision.

    ¡°Scotty, why¡­ why do you go along with the stuff she does? Why are you fine with us doing this kind of thing?¡± she finally asked. And to his surprise, he didn¡¯t really need to think about his answer at all.

    ¡°Well, because the three of us are best friends, so sticking together is something we are supposed to do. And besides, someone has to keep an eye on her.¡±

    Marianne let out a short laughter at that, which made the two of them quickly look towards the entrance, worried that Kali might have heard it. But thankfully, there was still no sign of the other girl as she kept her lookout on the outside of the chapel. So, Schrodinger turned his attention back to the younger girl again.

    ¡°So, what do you say? Can I finish up this lock, or do you want us to stop?¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± she said after taking a deep breath, ¡°but uhm¡­ I don¡¯t want you to get into trouble either. So, um, you don¡¯t need to lie if anything bad happens.¡±

    As he heard that, it was Schrodinger¡¯s turn to let out a small chuckle. He couldn¡¯t help but notice how slightly embarrassed her voice was, as she said that, but he made sure not to mention it as he went back to working in the lock.

    ¡°I¡¯ll think about it,¡± he muttered under his breath.

    And a few moments later, the padlock was finally unlocked.