“Let’s tackle the subject at hand. Why has the barrier been activated?” asked Mora.
“I think we’ve probably fallen into a trap set by our enemies,” replied Nashetania.
“Most likely,” Mora agreed. “The fiends have a knack for using our own weapons against us.”
“Come on, it’s no big deal,” said Adlet. “Once we find a way to nullify the barrier, problem solved.”
“Yes, that is indeed true. Now, boy, do you…” Then Mora looked around the area as if she had just noticed something. She considered the faces of each of the other five present in turn and said, “By the way, it seems we have an outsider in our midst. Who is it?”
Everyone aside from Mora looked confused. “Wait, what do you mean?” asked Adlet.
“What do you mean? We have one person too many,” she replied.
What are you talking about? thought Adlet, when another voice came from the temple entrance.
“Meow? Looks like we’ve got quite the crowd here. Does this mean we’ve got a full set?” A strange man entered the temple. His eyes were hidden by disheveled hair, and he looked a little dirty. Adlet couldn’t quite tell how old he was. He wore shabby hempen pants with a shirt and soft leather shoes. Except for the pair of hatchet-like swords belted at his waist, his dress was utterly commonplace. There was also a cat’s tail attached to his rear—perhaps as a joke. The man looked around the temple with a mocking smile on his face. “Meow-hee-hee, there’s a lotta pretty ladies in this set o’ Braves. Suddenly, I’m actually getting into this.”
“Who are you?” Nashetania asked.
Mora replied in the man’s place. “Let me introduce you—though I only met him just yesterday. This is Hans Humpty, another Brave of the Six Flowers.”
What? Adlet was befuddled. We already have all the Braves right here.
“It seems that we have an outsider tagging along. Who of the seven here is not a Brave?” asked Mora.
Adlet was entirely unable to reply. All he understood was that this was a preposterously abnormal situation. Nashetania and Goldof were both standing there, stunned. Even expressionless Fremy and unflappable Chamo were caught off-balance.
“All of you, show your crests,” said Adlet as he thrust out his right hand marked with the Crest of the Six Flowers. Fremy showed everyone the back of her left hand. Nashetania pulled down her breastplate to reveal the crest near her collarbone. Chamo rolled up her skirt to show the crest on her thigh.
“Wh-what are you doing?” Mora sounded confused.
“Goldof, what about you?” asked Adlet. “I haven’t seen yours.”
Goldof removed the pauldron from his right shoulder and rolled up his sleeve. There indeed, on his shoulder, was the Crest of the Six Flowers.
Seeing the five crests exposed, Mora and Hans quickly caught on. Both of their faces froze.
“Mora, Hans, please show us your crests, too,” said Nashetania.
“H-hey, just what the meow is goin’ on?” Hans took off his jacket to reveal his full upper body. The Crest of the Six Flowers was indeed there on the left side of his chest, over his heart.
“Mora, your crest,” said Nashetania.
“Impossible,” Mora refuted. “What is this? Just what on earth is going on?”
All eyes gathered on Mora. She unbuttoned her priestess robes, turned her back to them, and pulled the cloth off one shoulder. In the center of her back, between her shoulder blades, was what was clearly the Crest of the Six Flowers.
“There are…seven?” Nashetania murmured in shock.
Bewildered, Mora cried, “Check more closely! This is impossible! There cannot be seven Braves!”
The seven of them checked one another’s crests. There were multiple rounds of inspection to see if there was any variance in size or shape or difference in the faintly shining pink coloration. But every one of the crests was absolutely identical. All seven were speechless. None of them could understand what was going on.
“Is it possible for seven Braves to be chosen?” Adlet murmured.
“Boy,” replied Mora, “long ago, the Saint of the Single Flower divided her power into six and left it for future generations. Each Brave inherits one of those fragments of her power. That is why there can be only six Braves.”
“So in other words, what?” he asked.
“There are six Braves. Any more or any less would not be within the realm of possibility,” she replied.
“But there are seven, right here.” This time, it was Fremy who spoke.
“Yes, we have seven. What is the meaning of this?” Mora asked. But no one could answer.
After a pause, suddenly the temple echoed with laughter. “Meow-ha-ha-ha!” The source was the strange man who had appeared last in the temple, Hans.
“What’s so funny?” asked Adlet.
“Listen. It’s not that hard to figure meowt. Basically, it means one of us is a fake. Get it?” Hans declared without hesitation.
“Come on, why would there be a fake here?” Adlet asked.
“Because one of us is the enemy. You understand?” replied Hans.
Adlet was silent. That wasn’t necessarily the case.
“Is it possible…that the Spirit of Fate thought six would not be enough, and so an extra was made…?” Nashetania posited, not sounding very confident.
“If the Spirit did that, then wouldn’t we have been told?” countered Hans. “Not that I know if the Spirit o’ Fate can even talk.” Adlet knew that Hans’s explanation was the most rational one. “There’s a fake among us, and they’re not sayin’ who they are,” Hans continued. “If the fake ain’t our enemy, then who are they? If you can think of any other reasons there’d be an extra, I’m all ears.” As Hans spoke, he looked over each of their faces. There was cold sweat breaking out on his, too.
Everyone scrutinized everyone else. Like Adlet and Hans, every one of their faces revealed confusion and fear. There was an enemy among them, but they couldn’t tell who it was just by looking.
I could burst out laughing, reveled the traitor. Making a concerted effort to act confused, the impostor gloried in the reactions of the six Braves.
The plan had succeeded.
