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Jogged Memory: The Truth of Maramaks
As they saw from the distance, it was located on the mountain summit.
A towering stone gate. And what looked like nothing but a double door.
Even after going around it, they found nothing else. It was really and truly just a door.
“I wonder how you open it?”
Touching it did nothing. It looked like a monolith, a seamless sculpture.
“Can you hear me, Michel?”
Elina frowned at not getting an answer from him.
The boy was stunned in front of the door. His eyes wide open, his expression unreadable.
Was it joy? Sadness?
With that undecipherable face still on, he kept on staring at the door.
“Michel...”
The blonde was familiar with that expression: it was the look of someone who just had their world turned upside-down.
Back when she had meetings with her father the Earl, there were a few rare cases where someone made that expression.
That was the look humans made when they took enough of a hit for their minds to break, when their whole system of values was overturned.
It was something one tended to forget as they kept travelling, but the boy had indeed lost his memory, and the only clue to uncover that mystery was heading to Maramaks along a Beautiful Fighter.
And now, in front of the gate to Maramaks, Michel remained at a standstill.
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