Chapter 2: Spring?
Translated by Vine
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“Spring?”

It was as if I had been hit, my thoughts momentarily stopping.
Summoning demons, sacrifices, was it all really a dream? Or was I unconscious until spring? Is this the parallel universe mentioned in those popular science fiction novels these days?
So many assumptions arose at once that my head started to ache as if a brawl had broken out.
But it seemed nothing could be known by just wrapping my head and worrying alone in the room.
I needed more clues.
I had to find out what had happened.

Without even changing my clothes, Rose dashed down to the second floor, which served as the boarding house's lounge and dining room.
As soon as she burst open the door, she saw two young women and a middle-aged woman with a warm impression having breakfast.
The boarding house's residents, sisters Catherine Jones and Caroline Jones, and the owner, Mrs. Brown.

Rose ran straight to Catherine and hugged her tightly.
“Rose?”
It was unbelievable to hear her sweet, gentle voice again.
Catherine was alive.
Catherine is alive.

It must be a vision magic.
Even though it couldn't be real, Rose hoped and prayed with all her heart that all of this was real.

“Rose. What's wrong all of a sudden?”

Catherine gently patted the back of Rose's hand, who was clinging to her.
As Catherine patted Rose, who had suddenly clung to her as if she were a child, Caroline, Catherine's younger sister, couldn't resist snapping.

“Sister. Rose isn't a child. And Rose, how can you walk around in your pajamas? A lady shouldn't be so careless.”

“Caroline. Rose must have her reasons. Don't you think so?”

“Oh, you're so soft-hearted, sister. How do you teach those monkey-like kids running around at school?”

“They're not monkeys, they're students, and this isn't a school.”

Caroline's blunt way of speaking was the same as ever, and Catherine's gentle voice seemed so real.
Such a well-crafted illusion.
The more real it all felt, the more Rose's heart ached.
Last spring, Catherine was murdered by a robber in an alleyway.

“Oh, Rose. Are you crying?”

“I'm, not crying…”

“You're even sniffling, and you say you're not. Is something really wrong?”

Even though it might have been embarrassing and annoying, Catherine continued to pat Rose to calm her down.

“Now, stop crying and go upstairs to wash your face, brush your hair, change your clothes, and come down. Alright?”

Catherine spoke to the 22-year-old Rose as if she were soothing a five-year-old, but Rose was even grateful for such treatment.
Only after hearing the nagging of Caroline and Mrs. Brown did Rose finally let go of Catherine.

“Hurry up and change your clothes.”

“I will, Mrs. Brown.”

In less than an hour since she woke up, a storm of astonishing events had swept through.
The scene of Mrs. Brown and the boarders, sisters Catherine and Caroline, alive.
To see a point in time before the 'end of the world' had arrived.

'But the unique wave pattern that should be visible in vision magic is not there.'

“Rose?”

Catherine tilted her head at Rose, who had suddenly stopped while walking towards the hallway.

“Are you really okay?”

It was a sight that would make anyone worry.
She had burst into the second-floor lounge in her pajamas, suddenly hugged Catherine and cried, and now she was standing blankly like a person who had lost her mind.

“I'm fine.”

“Rose. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Sister. Leave her alone. She probably hasn't sobered up from the alcohol she drank yesterday.”

“Oh my! Rose, did you drink yesterday?”

“Think about how she looked yesterday. I bet she drank straight from the bottle. You saw it too, sister.”

As if she had seen something she shouldn't have, Caroline said nonchalantly while buttering a piece of bread.
The sight of Rose that she had witnessed last night was truly spectacular.

“Yesterday?”

Caroline's words made Rose's mind snap to attention.
Whether Rose was surprised or not, just as Caroline was about to put the buttered bread into her mouth, a hand suddenly popped out from beside her and grabbed the newspaper on the table.
The owner of that hand was Rose Taylor.

“Ack! I told you not to move without making a sound!”

But Rose just shrugged her shoulders at Caroline with an indifferent expression.

“If you need the newspaper, just say so! Suddenly reaching out from behind someone who's eating, I thought my heart would stop!”

“…April 14, 967?”

“Are you even listening to me?”

Caroline's grumbling, Catherine's intervention, and Mrs. Brown's voice shouting something from the kitchen were already inaudible to Rose.
As she confirmed the date with her eyes, her breath became stifled, and her heart beat wildly.

This newspaper, and that newspaper, were all dated April 14, 967.
As she scanned the headlines, she saw articles that felt familiar.

[Rombutton City Report
Wednesday, April 14, 967.
Dotrish Company,
Dominates the Northeastern Railway Line.
Unstoppable move from textiles to railways.
Second murder in Rombutton already.
The culprit is unknown.
Stellia Palace gardens open to the public.
Crowded with people enjoying the flower viewing season.]

Wait a minute.
April 14, 967?

The still-wet ink smeared on Rose's fingertips. It was definitely a newspaper delivered today.
It wasn't that someone had mistakenly put out an old newspaper.

“…Caroline. What month and day is it today?”

“Can't you tell by looking at the newspaper? It's April 14th.”

“What year is it?”

“Oh, hey. Why are you being so scary? It's 967.”

At her answer, Rose's face instantly hardened.
April 14, 967. The day Catherine died.

'Discolored artifact ring. A space where the wave pattern of vision magic is not visible. A specific date in the past. An overwhelming sense of reality…'

After looking at Catherine's face and then at the newspaper several times, Rose's mind turned white with a sudden hypothesis.

“That can't be possible…”

Her mind was busy piecing together the clues and formulating a hypothesis.
It didn't take long for the hypotheses unfolding in her mind to converge into a single conclusion.
Regression.
Turning back time and returning to the past.

'Regression is the only conclusion that is not contradictory.'

Going back in time with past experiences and memories?
In the first place, such a thing was not theoretically possible.
And of all days, the day of regression was April 14, 967!
The hand holding the newspaper was damp with sweat, and her heart was pounding even harder than before.
She glanced at the ring on her right index finger.

“Ha, I can't believe it…”

Rose burst into a hollow laugh without realizing it.
To think that the magic contained in this ring was the regression magic that was only thought to be a legend!
If she told Catherine, Caroline, and Mrs. Brown about this, they would worry greatly, asking if she was sick.
No, they might contact a doctor immediately.

Well, magic couldn't 'possibly' exist in this world. That was the common sense of ordinary people.
The humanity of this world thinks of itself as a single species, all the same, but in fact, humanity can be largely divided into two types.

The 'mages', Mythos, who maintain their existence hidden in the shadows.
And the Logos, who look to science, the child of reason, and call themselves 'humans'.
Magic is considered to be something that only appears in children's fairy tales or myths, but the Mythos, who wield magic, exist secretly among the Logos.
And Rose Taylor.
She was a pureblood Mythos.
Moreover, one who had refused to be a Mythos and had run away from the world of Mythos.

“Rose. What's wrong? Is there a serious article in the newspaper?”

Catherine's worried voice brought Rose's mind back to attention.

“I'm sorry. I was lost in thought for a moment.”

Rose folded the newspaper she was holding neatly and placed it back on the table, smiling faintly.
But the tension remaining in her body and the stiffness of her facial muscles were still noticeable to both Caroline and Catherine.
The air began to settle coldly with awkwardness.

The savior of the two, who were at a loss for what to do with her unusual and awkward behavior, was Mrs. Brown, who came out of the kitchen.

“Miss Taylor. What would you like for breakfast?”

At that, Rose hesitated for a moment before opening her mouth.

“Brandy…”

“I can't hear you. Speak up!”

“Give me a glass of brandy, Mrs. Brown.”

“What did you say?”

She truly felt like she needed to drink alcohol from early morning.