The World of this Fantasy Novel is in Crisis

“Karen!”

That was the end of the conversation.

Heather suddenly burst into the dining hall, shouting as she came in. 

“You guys are eating snacks without me!”

“N-no, it’s not like that!”

Karen hastily denied it and shoved the snack in her hand into her mouth. It was too hard to bite into right away, so her cheek puffed out like a chipmunk. When Heather, now up close, poked Karen’s cheek, the other one bulged out too.

The sight was so ridiculous that Satin couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle. Heather snapped her eyes over in his direction.

“You said you were going to get water!”

“S-sorry.”

“Hurry up! The kids are waiting!”

Even as she scolded her, Heather didn’t storm off alone. Her forehead glistened with beads of sweat, probably from playing some kind of game outside. Maybe it was one that needed more players.

Karen trailed after her, protesting that she’d only eaten one. What would she say if Heather found the snacks she’d stuffed in her pocket?

Their bickering faded into the distance. Satin also left the dining hall and headed for the library. Around this time, Cain was probably in there.

Just as he was about to open the library door, Satin suddenly turned around. The building was a straight corridor, so he could see all the way to the opposite end of the hallway.

There was no door at the entrance to the stairs that led down to the basement. Even so, none of the kids ever went that way.

Satin thought he understood why.

The kids all claimed to like the teacher, but that didn’t mean they treated him lightly. Someone who could be kind for no reason could also take away that kindness just as suddenly.

No one wanted to leave this place, so they wouldn’t dare go against the teacher’s wishes. They all obeyed the rule to stay away from the confessional. Naturally. It was the place you were only sent when the teacher, who almost never got angry, was truly upset. It had to feel ominous.

Three rooms. The last one of the three. Cain—did he know there was a tiny space beneath it?

If he doesn’t, I should tell him.

***

When he stepped into the library, no one was immediately visible. Satin wasn’t fazed and walked in further. In the corner, Rogers was reading a book. He looked completely absorbed, so Satin turned away without saying a word.

He found Cain on the other side.

Unlike Rogers, Cain wasn’t even pretending to read. The moment Satin approached, Cain sensed his presence.

Before Cain could say anything, Satin raised a finger to his lips. Cain caught the signal to be quiet, and though he frowned, he kept his mouth shut. Satin gestured for him to come out, then left the library first.

Cain followed soon after. Without saying a word, Satin quickly walked past the kitchen and the dining hall.

He was looking for a place where no one would be around at this hour. That’s when the bathhouse came to mind.

The kids hated bathing, so they usually didn’t go until long after sunset, right before bed.

“What the heck?”

Cain, who was trailing behind, tilted his head once he realized where Satin was headed.

He looked totally baffled, but Satin didn’t say a word until they were both inside the bathhouse and the door was shut.

Only then did Satin speak.

“Why do you hate the teacher?”

“You dragged me all the way here just to ask that?”

Cain let out a scoff, clearly dumbfounded. He looked like he was ready to walk right back out, so Satin quickly grabbed his arm.

Cain flinched and yanked himself free.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“You knew something, didn’t you?”

“…What are you talking about all of a sudden?”

Satin tried to speak about what happened last night, but his chest grew heavy. He took a slow, deep breath.

Cain must’ve sensed something was off, because he didn’t rush him.

“Tim… disappeared. You knew that, right?”

“Yeah. Everyone’s been whispering that he ran away.”

Satin watched Cain’s face carefully as he replied, unimpressed.

He didn’t seem to believe a single word the other kids were saying.

“But you don’t think that’s true, do you?”

“Of course not. That guy, just yesterday he was—”

Cain trailed off mid-sentence.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked up at Satin.

Those eyes, sharp and slightly aloof, were like a cat’s.

“So you know something too, huh?”

The suspicion in Cain’s voice was unmistakable. Satin gave a small, honest nod.

“I saw Tim last night.”

“At night?”

It had been shortly after Cain, who’d stayed up late, finally dozed off. If he’d stayed awake just a little longer, he would’ve seen it too.

“I heard a door open. I thought it might be you… you’ve been waiting for something at night, haven’t you…”

“Forget the reason. Did you see where Tim went?”

“He went into the teacher’s lab.”

“And then?”

Cain didn’t look the least bit surprised. He must’ve already expected Tim would go there during the night.

“I eavesdropped on their conversation. They were talking about magic… but I couldn’t catch the details. The sound was too muffled.”

“That old man’s room is soundproof. Pretty sure he made it that way on purpose.”

“Yeah, that’s what it felt like…”

“So?”

“I think… I think they were talking about me. Anyway, there was a glow—light was seeping out from under the door.”

Should he tell Cain that he’d seen magic? That he could see magic now? The teacher had been strangely fascinated by this new ability of Satin’s. But how would Cain react?

Satin hesitated briefly, then decided to tell him everything.

He knew nothing about this world. Knowing the story was one thing—understanding its rules, its setting, its inner logic—was another. Satin needed someone to help him navigate it.

It’d be better if that someone were an adult—but there are only kids here.

Rufus was technically an adult, but his relationship with the teacher was still unclear. That made him hard to trust. Cain, on the other hand, was already sixteen. The oldest of the kids here. In this world, maybe that counted as an adult already.

Besides, he was the protagonist.

There’s no way the protagonist my sister wrote would be an idiot.

Satin finished his thought and finally confessed.

“When I lost my memory, I gained an ability.”

“What the hell are you talking about now?”

“I can see magic. According to the teacher, it’s not a common ability.”

“See magic?”

Cain cut him off and raised his eyebrows.

Satin sighed and pushed Cain’s shoulder back a little. Cain had leaned in too close.

“We can talk about whether or not you believe me later. Let me finish what happened last night first.”

“…Fine.”

“I think the teacher used some massive spell. The magic was strong enough that it leaked all the way out into the hallway.”

Cain stood a few steps away, arms crossed, listening with a half-doubtful look on his face. Satin kept going anyway.

“After a while, the teacher came out carrying Tim over his shoulder.”

“He passed out?”

“I’m not sure.”

Was he unconscious? Or had he already been dead?

Satin found himself pressing a hand against his solar plexus. His stomach felt like it was slowly churning into ash.

“I don’t think things went according to plan. The teacher yelled right before he came out, like he was angry.”

“And?”

“He carried Tim into the basement.”

“The basement? You mean the confessional?”

Satin nodded. His heart thudded heavily in his chest. His whole body tensed like he’d been transported back to last night. His mouth dried up. He licked his lips.

Last night, he’d hidden here, waiting for the teacher to come out.

“I hid and waited. I couldn’t keep track of time, so I don’t know how long it was—probably a while.”

Ten minutes? Thirty? An hour? Longer than that? It hadn’t been short. Or maybe the tension made it feel longer. He couldn’t really remember. Anyway—

“The teacher came out alone.”

“Alone? What about Tim?”

“I thought he was still down there.”

“…You thought he was.”

“But when I went down… there was no one. Just this burning smell, and a trapdoor on the floor.”

They say the human body is 70% water. If all of that dried up, just how light would a body become?

Satin clenched and opened his fist. He could still feel the texture of what he’d touched in the dirt. Not soil. Not stone. But the remains of… something. Crumbled to dust under his fingers.

“Hey. What’s wrong with you?”

Suddenly, Cain grabbed Satin’s shoulders and shook him.

That’s when Satin realized—he’d stopped breathing. He inhaled sharply.

He had believed—truly believed—that there would be no tragedy in the story his sister wrote. That no misfortune, no hardship, would come. He believed her words without a doubt. That this would be a story of defying fate, of finding happiness, no matter what.

Even after learning that his sister’s story was an old-fashioned fantasy novel, he hadn’t worried.

Dark Age was a tale where the protagonist journeyed with friends, fought evil, and ultimately found happiness. Just as his sister had said.

No— Maybe it wasn’t her words he trusted. Maybe it was just her.

She was a good person. Someone who knew right from wrong. If he had to trust one person in his life, it would be her.

But Dark Age was still a novel.

And while the author may be the one who writes it, a story is never created by the author alone. There are always parts—pieces the writer can’t control.

Parts the author deliberately leaves vague, entrusted to the reader’s imagination. And one of those pieces had revealed itself the night before, in a form Satin never could have predicted.

“The teacher killed Tim.”

There was no need to consider other possibilities. Satin wasn’t that naïve. Everything—every sign, every trace—had already spoken the truth. What reason was there to cling to some hopeful alternative just to defend the teacher?

“Now it’s your turn. Why did you hate the teacher? What did you know?”

Cain stared at Satin for a long moment before finally clicking his tongue and opening his mouth.

“I heard rumors about that old man before I got here.”

“Rumors?”

“They said some eccentric wizard was taking in kids with nowhere to go and taking care of them.”

“You’re from Cloverland, right?”

“So you know.”

“…Yeah.”

He’d known even before Rogers told him. It was in Dark Age.

Satin now realized just how wrong he’d been. He’d been arrogant—convinced he knew everything about Cain’s life, both past and future.

Even the part where Cain had nearly become an experimental subject at the hands of a vicious dark mage—he’d dismissed it. Just a backstory. Just lore. Nothing more.