Oz Bezarius just wanted a normal first day of the new term at Latwidge Academy. Instead, he overslept, nearly tripped over a parade of black cats, and arrived at his desk to find a fluffy black rabbit plushie with a name tag reading "Alice" and a serious attitude problem.
The plushie talks. It demands. And according to it, Oz is now its property.
As a member of a family of Storytellers—those who wield Echo Magic to breathe life into objects—Oz knows the strange rules of his world better than m
Pandora Academy: After-School Aviss - The greatest victory and serves you right—Alice's recapture, and a new morning
Morning light stretched the shadows of the four figures gathered before the gates of the Bezarius estate into long, thin lines.
Oz Bezarius pressed a hand to his chest. Beneath his fingers lay the talisman his little sister Ada had given him—a small cloth pouch holding dried flowers and an old silver bell. His occult-obsessed sister had pressed it into his hands with a deadly serious face, insisting it would absolutely work.
In his other hand, he held a key borrowed from his uncle Oscar. An old brass key, passed down through the Bezarius family for generations—the so-called "Key to the Bezarius Door." It was normally kept deep in Oscar's study, brought out only on special occasions.
" Oz, you're really going through with this."
Gilbert stepped forward on his crutch. His right arm was still bound in a sling, his black hair stirring in the morning breeze. His golden eyes watched Oz with open worry.
" Of course I am. I'm going to get Alice."
Oz flashed a grin. His emerald eyes sparkled in the morning sun.
" ...You barely slept last night, did you. You look pale."
" Gil, you're one to talk—coming all the way here on a crutch. You could've just waited at home, you know?"
" Don't be ridiculous. Like I'd let you go alone."
Gilbert drove the tip of his crutch hard against the ground. The sound echoed through the quiet morning air.
"Oh my, my. Aren't we lively this morning."
Sharon walked slowly toward the gate. Her chestnut hair—long, softly curled—shimmered in the morning light. Her pale violet eyes held their usual elegant smile.
But her steps were a little unsteady. Her body, which had collapsed from a high fever, still hadn't fully recovered. In her right hand she gripped the harisen passed down through the Rainsworth family for generations.
" Sharon, you don't have to push yourself. You're not back to full strength yet."
" Fufu, that goes for you too, Oz-sama. Don't worry about me. We're doing this to save Alice-chan, after all. I'm coming too."
Sharon's smile was the same as always. But Oz didn't miss the trace of exhaustion lurking deep in her eyes.
"My, my. Everyone's assembled, I see."
Break arrived last. His silver-tinged white hair was tied back, his bangs hiding his left eye. A fresh white bandage was wrapped around it.
Yet his lips curled in their usual carefree smile. In his right hand, a candy wrapper. The crunch of hard candy being chewed echoed from his mouth.
" Break, your eye... are you really okay?"
" No need for concern. Even with one eye, I can manage a bit of guarding. Besides, Emily here is worried too."
Break pointed to the small doll perched on his shoulder. Emily—an old ventriloquist's doll. Its black button eyes seemed, for just a moment, to move in the morning light.
" Break-san, you're as composed as ever."
" And you, my lady, bringing your harisen along. How reassuring."
" Naturally. If it comes to it, I'll give your backside a good smack."
Sharon gave the harisen a light swing, smile still in place. Break shrugged with exaggerated flair.
Just then, the patter of slippers sounded from beyond the gate.
"Big brother! Wait for me!"
Ada came running in her nightgown. Her ample chest bounced as she ran, a black cat named Kitty riding on her shoulder. Behind her, a white cat—Snowdrop—came chasing after.
" Ada? What are you doing, dressed like that?"
" Big brother, please take this with you!"
Ada held out a small glass bottle. Inside swirled a liquid that glowed purple.
" W-what is that...?"
" A special ward-away potion I brewed myself! It keeps shadows at bay. And this is holy water gathered from moonlight. And this is—"
Ada produced one dubious item after another. Bottles, pouches, paper charms, something that looked like a bone, some kind of feather.
" H-hey, Ada, I appreciate the thought, but I can't carry all that!"
" But... this is all I can do to protect you, big brother..."
Ada's big eyes welled up, glistening.
Oz patted his little sister's head.
" It's okay. I've got the talisman right here. I'll carry your feelings with me too. So don't worry."
" Big brother..."
Ada threw herself against Oz. Kitty, startled, leaped down to the ground.
"Whoa there, quite the embrace for so early in the morning."
Oscar came striding over—tall, broad-shouldered, with a jovial grin.
" Uncle Oscar. Thanks for the key."
Oz held up the brass key.
" Ah, that. The Key to the Bezarius Door can open any door. It should serve you well. ...And Oz."
Oscar's voice turned suddenly serious.
" Don't do anything reckless. You've got a habit of charging off on your own."
Oz was at a loss for words, just for a moment.
The old him would have laughed it off with a "I'll be fine."
But that wasn't who he was anymore.
" ...This time, I won't carry it all alone. I'll go with everyone. I promise."
Oz looked Oscar straight in the eye.
Oscar looked a little surprised, then broke into a grin.
" Good, that's the face I wanted to see. Go on, then!"
" Yeah!"
Oz looked around at his companions.
Gilbert. Sharon. Break.
All of them battered, and all of them standing here.
(I'm not alone.)
A warmth spread slowly through Oz's chest.
" Let's go, everyone! We're bringing Alice home!"
The four of them set off through the morning light, toward the Grimheart Forest.
Deep in the Grimheart Forest.
The place that had once been the stage of the Storyteller War was dim even in daytime, ancient trees blotting out the sky. Damp moss carpeted the ground, and with every step, a chill clung to the skin.
" ...Still as creepy a place as ever."
Gilbert looked around, leaning on his crutch.
" This is a place where remnants of stories tend to gather. Stay on your guard."
Sharon's pale violet eyes took on a serious hue. Born into a family of "Storytellers," she was a practitioner of Echo Magic—the art of giving form to stories and memories by "telling" them, or sealing them away.
" Oh, do look at that."
Break pointed at a tree trunk.
Something like black mist clung faintly to the bark. It was moving. Swelling and shrinking slowly, as if breathing.
" A Grimheart shadow...!"
Oz gripped his talisman.
" That's only a small fragment. The main body should be much deeper in."
" Let's go. Alice is definitely further in."
Oz took a step forward.
Over the damp earth, the four pressed deeper and deeper. The trees grew taller, the air colder and heavier.
At last, the entrance to a massive cavern came into view.
An unnaturally large opening in black rock. It gaped like a mouth.
" ...Here."
Oz stared into the depths of the cave.
Pitch black. Nothing visible.
But he could feel it.
(Alice is here.)
Oz stepped into the cavern.
The interior was surprisingly spacious.
Countless threads of black mist hung from the ceiling, and shadows clung thickly to the walls. The air stank of rot, and every breath seared the throat.
And there, at the very back of the cave—
" Alice...!"
Oz shouted.
Inside something like a cage of black mist, a small black rabbit plush lay limply on its side.
Soft, fluffy black fur. Its crimson eyes were closed, and the usual ferocious aura was nowhere to be found.
" Alice! Alice!!"
Oz broke into a run.
" Oz, wait! It could be a trap!"
Gilbert's voice no longer reached Oz's ears.
Oz flung himself at the cage of black mist.
" Alice! Wake up! It's me! I came for you!!"
The moment the misty cage touched Oz's hands, it hissed and evaporated.
But immediately, new mist gathered and repaired the cage.
" Damn it...! Open! Open up!!"
Oz clawed at the mist again and again.
Each time his palms touched the cold fog, they went numb.
" Oh my, what an undignified entrance."
A voice.
Near the ceiling of the cave, atop a jutting rock, stood the Mad Hatter.
His ever-present hat. His unsettling grin. In the darkness, only his white teeth stood out sharply.
" You...!"
Oz glared at the Mad Hatter.
" Welcome to my humble stage. I didn't send invitations, but ah, well. I do respect your enthusiasm."
" Give Alice back!"
" Give her back? Back? What a strange thing to say. She came here of her own will. ...No, to be precise, I 'reminded' her. Of who she's really waiting for."
The Mad Hatter leaped lightly down from the rock.
He landed without a sound.
" You think you can protect her? When you don't even know who you are yourself?"
The Mad Hatter approached Oz.
One step, then another.
" What do you know besides your own name? Why did your mother die? Why does your father hate you? What exactly is the blood that flows in your veins?"
Oz's heart gave a violent throb.
" You know nothing. You understand nothing. And a child like that thinks he can protect her?"
The Mad Hatter's grin deepened.
" Don't make me laugh. You're just a helpless child. Dragging everyone around you into danger, hurting them, and still believing you're in the right."
" ...Shut up."
Oz clenched his fists.
But his feet wouldn't move.
The Mad Hatter's words drove deep into his heart.
(Can I... really protect Alice?)
(When I don't know anything.)
" Oz, don't listen to him!"
Gilbert's voice rang through the cave.
" You tried to carry everything alone, and you failed. But it's different now. We're here. You're not alone!"
" That's right. Oz-sama is my precious childhood friend. I would never abandon him."
" Young master, how about you show her something cool right about now?"
His companions' voices pushed Oz forward.
(...That's right.)
(I'm not alone.)
Oz lifted his head.
His emerald eyes fixed squarely on the Mad Hatter.
" ...I don't care who I am."
Oz spoke clearly.
" I'm Alice's property, and Alice is mine. Isn't that enough?"
Oz smiled.
Facing the Mad Hatter head-on, with his usual bright grin.
" ...What did you say?"
The Mad Hatter's smile vanished for just an instant.
" Even if I don't know who I am, even if Alice doesn't know who she is, it doesn't matter. I'm with her. That's all. Nothing more, nothing less."
Oz's voice echoed through the cave.
" Whatever you say, I'm taking Alice home. That's my answer."
And then it happened.
Inside the cage of black mist, something moved.
"...you."
A small voice echoed through the cave.
Oz spun around as if struck.
Inside the cage, the black rabbit plush was slowly opening its eyes.
Crimson eyes stared at Oz.
" ...You finally came for me."
Alice's voice trembled.
" You idiot. You're late, idiot."
Tears spilled from her crimson eyes.
They soaked into the plush's black fur.
" Alice...!"
Oz reached toward the cage.
" Ho... interesting. Truly interesting, you are."
The Mad Hatter let out a laugh.
" Then let me see it. This bond of yours."
The Mad Hatter raised his hand.
All the black mist in the cave surged at once.
It writhed, swirled, and formed a massive mass that lunged at Oz and the others.
" Oz, behind you!!"
" Everyone, get behind me!"
Sharon raised her harisen.
" Echo Magic, deploy.—O stories passed down through the ages, bring your echoes here and now!"
The harisen gave off a pale light.
The air vibrated, and the echoes of ancient stories filled the cave.
" Oh my, my lady, overexertion is forbidden."
Break stepped forward.
" Emily, you agree, don't you? ...Yes, yes, I know. Well then, shall I do a little work?"
Break crunched down on his candy.
The next instant, his body floated lightly into the air.
His silver hair danced in the wind.
" My blade is the edge that severs stories. Mad Hatter—you who borrow that name—your stage ends here."
Break sliced through the mass of black mist.
The mist let out a shriek-like sound and scattered.
" As expected of the man hailed as Pandora's strongest. Even with one eye, your edge hasn't dulled."
" I'm honored by the praise."
" Oz! Now, while you can—get Alice!"
" Yeah!"
Oz ran toward the cage of black mist.
" Key to the Bezarius Door—open!"
Oz thrust the key from Oscar into the cage.
Click.
The sound of the key turning.
The cage
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