The World of this Fantasy Novel is in Crisis

“I won’t betray you.”

“Who said you actually would? But you have to make it look real if people are going to believe it.”

“Well, yeah, but…”

Satin clammed up and trailed off, and while he hesitated, Cain dumped the water and wrung out the laundry. Despite the muggy weather, his hands were pale—he’d had them submerged in cold water for quite a while.

Staring absentmindedly at those pale hands, Satin recalled something the teacher had said to him—not today, but a few days ago.

“Just say the word, anything you need.”

“Are you saying you’d risk danger for this?”

“The greater the danger, the greater the reward, right?”

“What if it’s not you who’s in danger, but someone else?”

“…That’s still better than it being me, isn’t it?”

It had felt like the right answer for the situation. That’s what Satin thought.

‘Did I really not think of anything else?’

Cain probably tossed out the word “betrayal” as a joke, but it made Satin feel gloomy. People don’t live by conviction alone—and truthfully, Cain had never been that good a person to begin with.

“Stay close to Cain.”

“Why?”

“He might be useful. I’m saying you should take the lead and soften his resistance toward me.”

While Satin was lost in thought, Cain finished tidying up and stood.

“I’m heading out first.”

With a basket full of wrinkled clothes, Cain walked out of the laundry room. Satin stayed behind for a little while longer before stepping out.

***

After hanging the laundry on a line in one corner of the yard, Cain turned around—and flinched in surprise. Rogers was standing there. It wasn’t clear when he’d arrived, but he was holding an empty basket, probably to collect his own laundry.

Though they saw each other from time to time in the archives, they weren’t particularly close. Cain saw no reason to speak and simply started to walk past him.

But Rogers’ voice stopped him in his tracks.

“I overheard you talking with the teacher the other night.”

Great, Cain thought with irritation, turning back around and standing with a tilted posture.

“Which night are you talking about?”

“Three days ago.”

“Huh. Can’t say I really remember.”

Cain played dumb. Of course, he didn’t expect Rogers to believe him. He should’ve asked what he was talking about in the first place—but it was too late for that now. Still, acting brazen was better than showing he was rattled.

Rogers gripped the edge of his basket tightly as he spoke.

“You said you were on your way back from the baths. The teacher just stopped you to talk for a bit.”

Cain let out a quiet sigh. With over ten people living together in a limited space—eating, sleeping, and coexisting—this kind of thing was bound to happen.

Just like Cain had noticed when Tim went to meet the old man, Rogers had spotted Cain talking to the old man himself.

“So what do you want me to do about it?”

Rather than keep pretending, Cain responded with bored disinterest. Rogers hesitated, his grip tightening until the bones on the back of his hand stuck out.

“It’s not weird that you were talking to the teacher, right?”

Everyone knew Cain didn’t like the teacher—but that was the extent of it.

Cain had only ever cursed the old man in his head. He never openly rebelled. He attended lessons quietly and followed the petty rules of the school. Even though his dislike was obvious, he never really talked behind the teacher’s back. Not that he had anyone close enough to gossip with anyway.

“Do you have something else you want to say?”

Cain asked, his brows furrowed ever so slightly. Rogers opened his mouth, hesitated as if struggling to find the words, then finally asked:

“Does Satin know?”

“Know what?”

“That the teacher offered to teach you magic.”

That wasn’t exactly what he’d said.

He’d asked if I wanted to learn magic.

When Cain didn’t answer right away, Rogers glanced around cautiously and stepped closer. He seemed to have hit a growth spurt—he was taller than before, though still shorter than Cain. Among all the students at the school, Cain was the second tallest.

Rogers looked up at Cain with uneasy eyes and spoke.

“Satin really looked like he wanted to be close to you. His personality’s changed a bit, but still… if it turns out that you—”

“What? You gonna say if I had a conscience, I wouldn’t steal his spot?”

“That’s not what I meant. I just… thought maybe he should know…”

“And what about you?”

“Huh?”

Cain leaned in, and Rogers flinched, his shoulders twitching in surprise.

“What if it wasn’t me, but you the teacher made that offer to?”

“I don’t have the aptitude…”

“Forget that crap. I’m asking, if you got the chance, what would you do?”

Rogers fumbled, unable to give an answer.

“Who are you to pity anyone? Worry about your own damn self.”

Even with Cain’s sharp jab, Rogers didn’t lash out. He was soft-natured at his core. Cain scoffed under his breath and walked off.

***

After finishing his chores and washing up, Satin returned to the room. Cain was lying on the bed, deep in thought, and didn’t say a word when Satin came in.

“What’s got you thinking so hard?”

“It’s nothing.”

Is it, though? Satin was a bit skeptical, but didn’t press. There was something else he wanted to ask Cain anyway.

“During dinner earlier, Rogers kept looking over at us.”

“Did he?”

“Did something happen between you two?”

Cain let out a faint laugh and sat up, replying with a question of his own instead of answering.

“What do you think of Rogers?”

What do I think…?

Satin tilted his head, unsure of Cain’s intent. Cain clarified with a little more detail.

“Like, is he a good kid? Sneaky? That kind of thing.”

Satin paused to consider before responding.

“He’s… quiet? He’s always holed up in the library.”

Compared to the other kids, Rogers was on the quieter side. Satin had spoken with him a few times, but still couldn’t get a good read on him. He could only guess that Rogers wasn’t the bold type.

“Doesn’t seem particularly greedy either…”

Karen and Robin often lingered around the kitchen trying to get extra food, but Rogers never did anything like that.

He clearly wasn’t one to push himself forward. Satin recalled how Rogers had looked disappointed when he revealed he’d lost his memories. Probably a sign he was a bit timid.

‘He’s not still holding a grudge over something I said, right?’

Their recent conversations had gone smoothly without any blunders.

After hearing Satin’s vague impressions, Cain gave a quiet hum and nodded slowly. Something about his reaction felt off.

“Why that look?”

“Nothing. You just… care about the kids. I was curious how you saw him, that’s all.”

“It’s not that I like them. They’re kids, so I look out for them.”

Saying he “liked” the kids felt too ambiguous to be a compliment. Still, feeling a little awkward, Satin wiped at his cheek. Drops of water kept falling from his still-damp hair.

To be honest, even saying he “looked out for them” might be an exaggeration. The teacher was fairly kind, but not someone who paid close attention to the kids. Outside of lessons, he didn’t really engage with them.

Satin was just stepping in to fill the gaps—doing what the teacher should have been doing.

Not that he ever asked me to.

Looking after children was simply what adults were supposed to do.

Cain didn’t bring up Rogers again and simply jerked his chin slightly—gesturing for him to sit. Satin took a seat on the bed. After chatting like this day after day, sitting across from each other like this no longer felt awkward.

“How much do you trust me?”

Satin’s eyes went wide before he could stop himself. It wasn’t something he ever expected to hear from Cain. They hadn’t known each other forever, but he thought he had Cain mostly figured out.

“Didn’t say that to make you freak out like that.”

Yeah—that was the Cain he knew.

Seeing Cain’s scrunched-up expression, Satin actually felt relieved. Words like “how much do you trust me” just didn’t fit him—they were startling coming from his mouth.

Since Cain didn’t seem to be pushing for an immediate answer, Satin took his time to think it through.

Satin didn’t trust Cain. But it wasn’t that he suspected him either. He just didn’t believe trust was necessary as long as both of them respected the basic decency owed to one another as people.

“It’d be a lie to say I trust you completely. But I do believe you wouldn’t hurt me for no reason.”

“So if there’s a reason, I might hurt you?”

“Well… reasons come in all shapes and sizes. Like, if not hurting me meant you’d die or something…”

That kind of situation couldn’t really be called betrayal. In that case, it wasn’t betrayal—it was a choice, or survival. Satin hoped such a situation would never arise, but who could say what the future held?

“For now, I’m just focusing on the fact that we’re working toward the same goal.”

“But goals can change.”

Cain’s tone was light. Still, it wasn’t a joke. Jokes that stirred up this kind of unease weren’t fun for anyone—not the one saying them, and definitely not the one hearing them.

“Cain, what are you trying to say?”

“You ever think the crazy old man might be trying to recruit me?”

“The teacher tried to recruit you?”

“No. I’m saying what if he did.”

“If he did…”

Satin had never considered the possibility before now—but it wasn’t out of the question. Absentmindedly wiping the droplets soaking his collar, he began to consider the implications.

‘What would the teacher gain from recruiting Cain?’

If it wasn’t just about experimentation—if he truly wanted to keep Cain close.

There was no real reason to keep both Cain and Satin nearby. Unless Satin had outlived his usefulness and the teacher needed a new assistant. In that case, what would make Satin no longer useful?

‘If I became untrustworthy?’

Cain had once said that the teacher might still see Satin as he used to—a sly, opportunistic manipulator.

Back then, Satin had been relieved. If the teacher still trusted him even without having to bend over backwards to earn it, wasn’t that a good thing?

‘But maybe it wasn’t that simple.’

Satin had become a completely different person. Even if he sometimes showed glimpses of who he used to be, his thoughts were no longer the same. Maybe the teacher had realized that too.

‘He might’ve decided it’s safer to use someone he already understands, rather than a wildcard.’