Part IV — Mog Boschek
Sophia struck the ground with a heavy thud.
She had fallen from roughly the height of the second floor before crashing into the stone courtyard below.
Fortunately, her body twisted sideways at the last instant.
Instead of landing headfirst, she hit the ground shoulder-first and rolled onto her side, leaving a cloud of dust swirling around her.
For several terrifying seconds…
She didn’t move.
“Sophia!”
Jessie’s scream pierced the afternoon air.
She was the first to reach her.
“Sophia! Wake up!”
The others rushed over immediately.
Mog dropped to his knees beside her, while Poby and Dekero crowded around in panic.
Together they shook her gently.
Nothing.
Sophia lay completely still.
Poby swallowed hard.
“…She isn’t dead, is she?”
His trembling voice sent a chill through everyone.
Mog felt his stomach tighten.
His heart pounded painfully against his ribs.
This is my fault.
The thought struck him with crushing force.
They had been waiting outside the Smith Manor for nearly fifteen minutes.
At first everyone had been patient.
Then Poby began complaining.
Dekero agreed.
Even Jessie had sighed and suggested that perhaps they should simply go and play without Sophia today.
But Mog had refused.
“Just a little longer,” he had insisted.
Jessie had supported him, and once she did, the others had reluctantly agreed.
After all, Jessie was not only the prettiest girl in their class, but also the only girl in their little group.
Well…
The only one they considered a proper young lady.
Sophia didn’t count.
At least, not according to them.
So they had stayed.
Waiting.
Watching the third-floor window.
But Mog hadn’t insisted because he was being patient.
He had another reason.
Revenge.
A week earlier, they had played their usual game of heroes.
Armed with nothing more than fallen branches, Mog and Sophia had challenged one another to a duel.
Jessie, as always, had served as both princess and judge.
The result…
Had been humiliating.
Sophia won.
Fairly.
Mog had tried every excuse he could think of.
“I was going easy because she’s a girl.”
“I slipped.”
“The stick was crooked.”
None of them had worked.
When Jessie demanded a proper rematch…
Sophia had defeated him again.
Since that day, Mog had sworn revenge.
Every afternoon for an entire week he had secretly practiced with a wooden branch behind his father’s bookshop.
He imagined the perfect rematch.
Jessie would be watching.
He would finally defeat Sophia.
And she—
Would have to admit he was the better swordsman.
Instead…
Sophia now lay unconscious in front of him.
Because she had tried to climb out of a third-floor window.
Because he had told everyone to wait.
Mog clenched his fists.
The dream of glorious revenge suddenly felt very far away.
Taking a slow breath, he forced himself to stay calm.
“I’ll check.”
He carefully placed two fingers beneath Sophia’s nose.
For one agonizing second…
Nothing.
Then—
A faint breath brushed against his fingertips.
Relief flooded through him.
“She’s breathing.”
Everyone let out the breath they had been holding.
Poby nearly collapsed where he stood.
“Maybe…”
Dekero swallowed nervously.
“…Maybe she needs mouth-to-mouth.”
Poby’s eyes widened.
“That’s right! My uncle said you can wake someone up that way before it’s too late.”
Jessie immediately turned toward Mog.
“Well?”
She nudged his shoulder.
“Hurry!”
Mog froze.
“What?”
“You’re closest.”
Jessie pushed him again.
“Go!”
Every pair of eyes settled on him.
Mog’s face turned bright red.
“W-Why me?!”
“Because you’re already there!”
Before he had time to argue, Jessie shoved him forward once more.
Mog shut his eyes.
This isn’t how I imagined getting close to Sophia…
With trembling hands, he carefully rolled Sophia onto her back.
He pinched her nose.
Then…
Very slowly…
He leaned closer.
Closer.
Just as his face was only inches away—
“You children!”
A furious voice thundered across the courtyard.
“What do you think you’re doing to my daughter?!”
Every child froze.
“…Lady Smith.”
Mog whispered the name as though speaking of some legendary monster.
To every child in the neighborhood…
Lady Smith was terrifying.
Strict.
Elegant.
Completely impossible to fool.
The older children even claimed she could see through lies with a single glance.
None of them dared test the rumor.
Fortunately…
Sophia had never heard any of those stories.
Several months earlier, one unfortunate fourth-year student had jokingly called Lady Smith a witch.
Sophia had rewarded him with a bloody nose.
The incident had become something of a local legend.
At that exact moment—
Something unbelievable happened.
The girl everyone thought was unconscious suddenly bolted upright.
Mog didn’t even have time to react.
THUNK!
Sophia’s forehead crashed squarely into his chin.
“AAGH!”
Pain exploded through Mog’s jaw.
Sophia barely seemed to notice.
She rubbed her forehead once.
Then sprang to her feet.
Without even checking whether she was injured, she spun toward the others.
“What are you idiots waiting for?!”
She pointed toward the front gate.
“Run!”
And with that…
She was already sprinting away.
For one confused second, the others simply stared after her.
Then reality caught up.
“Oh no!”
“Run!”
The children scattered in every direction before finally following Sophia down the road.
Mog stumbled after them, tears filling his eyes from the pain in his jaw.
Behind them, Lady Smith’s voice echoed across the courtyard.
“Sophia!”
But by then…
The children were already gone.
Only much later, after they had finally escaped beyond the outskirts of Alzaria, did Mog discover the truth.
His jaw had been dislocated.
While he sat clutching his face in agony, Sophia and Jessie laughed so hard they could barely remain standing.
Even Poby eventually burst into laughter.
Only Dekero looked genuinely sympathetic.
Mog, however, saw nothing amusing about it.
His mother had to escort him all the way to the town healer before his jaw could finally be put back into place.
As they walked home beneath the peaceful afternoon sun, one thought echoed over and over inside his aching head.
One day…
I’ll beat you, Sophia Smith.
No matter what it takes.
He had absolutely no idea…
That the same promise had already become something of a habit.