TPFR 03

Chapter 3

After that day, Prim was cursed so that thorns would sprout wherever her feet touched the ground and pierce her.

Whenever the sole of her foot touched anything, thorns would grow from it and wound her, no matter what it was. Because of this, Prim could not even wear shoes.

At midnight, her wounds healed as if they had never existed, but because of that, she never developed even a single callus. The thorns always inflicted the pain of piercing soft, fresh skin.

And because Prim had taken the curse meant for Rosien, Rosien carried her around on his back.

In her previous life, he did so until the very end of his life.

“Ugh!”

Prim stood up, groaning at the pain of the thorns growing beneath her feet. Even so, she closed her eyes and concentrated on her sense of smell.

A gentle breeze blew past.

The smell of dust and ancient marble came first.

Then, from a little farther away, she caught several other scents.

Pale purple heather soaked in sunlight.

The bitter-sweet scent of wild roses with tiny buds.

The faint, soft musk of pink musk mallow in bloom.

The earthy scent of thistles.

And the cool, clean fragrance of lily of the valley blooming in the shade.

Prim opened her eyes again and went in search of the scents she had detected.

Among the wildly growing heather bushes, she broke off the stem with the sweetest fragrance.

Breaking off the wild rose branch with her bare hands was painfully unpleasant, but she had no time to look for scissors.

It would be harder to keep going back and forth.

Prim looked down the garden path, where her red footprints were scattered here and there, and squeezed her eyes shut.

She removed the largest thorns before breaking off the flowers, but the smaller ones still pricked her hands.

Even so, Prim silently searched her surroundings.

Once she had gathered several stems of musk mallow along with some thistles, she had something that looked fairly convincing as a bouquet.

Finally, Prim hesitated for a moment in front of the lily of the valley clustered beneath a large tree.

Since it was one of the main ingredients she had used so generously in the fragrance she had made to die—how much had she used for Varin to call her a little lily of the valley?—her heart wavered slightly.

“Still, I have to do it.”

Her heart might waver, but she could not leave the fragrance unfinished.

Prim firmly snapped off some lily of the valley.

The lily of the valley that grew only in this region was called Sanbertal lily of the valley, after the name of the territory.

This particular species had an especially clear and refreshing floral scent.

However, when turned into a fragrance ingredient, its concentrated toxicity was far stronger than that of ordinary lily of the valley, making it impossible to use.

The perfume Prim had made from the lily of the valley here in her previous life had been the first and last time she ever used it.

Prim examined the condition of the flowers and added them to the bouquet in her hand.

In appearance, it could not compare to the bouquet Marselia had offered to the god and left there until it had completely dried out.

But its fragrance was another matter.

The sweet floral scent of wildflowers that had grown somewhat thirsty blended with the soft, warm scent of musk mallow, while the clear and transparent fragrance of lily of the valley brought to mind the morning dew of early summer.

It felt as though the ringing of a transparent glass bell had carried her away in an instant to a magnificent summer villa.

“Mmm.”

But it was slightly different from the fragrance she had originally envisioned.

Perhaps it was because the bitter scent of the broken stems had mixed with the vivid, watery smell that only fresh flowers possessed, rather than refined fragrance ingredients.

On top of that, the flowers of the musk mallow did not smell the way she had expected.

After thinking for a moment, Prim searched around the musk mallow.

She crushed the musk mallow seeds, which looked like black snail shells, with a stone.

A somewhat rough but sufficiently warm musk scent rose from them.

She brushed the crushed seeds off with her hand, plucked a few thyme leaves growing haphazardly nearby, and scattered them over the bouquet as well.

The thyme’s naturally intense, lively fragrance spread faintly across the bouquet.

It danced among the other scents, cheerfully revealing the refreshing warmth of early summer.

A faint smile appeared at the corners of Prim’s lips as she smelled it.

It had been a very long time since she had created a fragrance using nothing but raw, living ingredients like this.

For a moment, she felt as though she could even forget the sharp pain coming from her feet.

This should be enough for Varin to speak again, right?

Flowers and trees consume water and light.

Animals eat grass and other animals.

Magical beasts eat animals and humans.

And humans eat grain and bread.

Then what do gods eat?

They eat fragrance.

Gods take well-made fragrances as their food, gaining powerful strength from them. With that strength, they grant miracles and divine revelations.

People witness the power of a god and begin to believe and follow that god.

As their faith and offerings of fragrance increase, the god who consumes those fragrances grows even stronger.

The opposite is true as well.

If there are no believers to worship and follow a god, there will be no fragrance offered to them. Their usable power weakens, and fewer people follow them.

Thus begins a vicious cycle.

Varin was a god caught in precisely this situation.

As the years passed, he was slowly forgotten by people.

The fragrances offered to him dwindled.

His power as a god became so weak that the only followers he had left were the people of a single orphanage attached to this tiny temple in a completely ruined little territory.

Prim cleaned up the altar and placed the freshly made bouquet on top of it.

It had been a very long time since she had worked with living plants gathered together instead of refined ingredients and fragrant oils, so the process felt somewhat awkward.

She was even a little embarrassed.

Prim glanced around for no particular reason, clasped her hands together, closed her eyes, and called the god’s name.

“Um, Varin?”

—……

Prim cautiously opened one eye.

The bouquet remained silent.

“Is this not enough?”

Just as Prim was about to remove the bouquet, rain suddenly began falling from the clear sky.

Then soft light burst forth around the bouquet.

Varin’s hurried voice rang out.

—What? You just called my name without even saying a single prayer!

“Oh, Varin. You were there. So, what happens if I don’t become a Perfuma Aetheria and offer you a fragrance?”

Varin was silent for a moment before answering.

—……What about the prayer?

A prayer?

What prayer?

Prim’s eyes widened.

“Does Varin have a special prayer?”

—Of course I do! I have one too! I’m a god, aren’t I?!

Prim rolled her eyes.

Just then, thunder suddenly boomed.

Raindrops began falling through the holes in the temple’s roof, soaking the inside.

Prim slowly moved on her knees toward a spot where the rain could not reach her as she thought.

If even a god in a temple like this has a prayer, where could I find it?

She might be able to ask Marselia the priest and find out, but…

“I’ll look for it. Later. I can’t do it right now.”

—……

The bouquet trembled.

Seeing the movement, Prim cleared her throat.

She had always been direct and only spoken when there was something she needed to say.

That was probably one of the things that had made her final days so difficult.

This time, Prim decided to explain her reasons more fully and ask how he was doing before getting to the matter at hand.

“I can’t exactly look for a book right now. I’ll ask the priest later. But, Varin, how is the fragrance? Do you like it?”

—……It’s a wonderful…… fragrance.

Varin was actually a little annoyed, but he answered honestly nonetheless.

The bouquet contained the image of a summer villa at a southern resort.

It carried the feeling of pleasant fragments of early summer shimmering beneath the sunlight.

It was a warm and cheerful fragrance, as though someone had danced a waltz while splashing through water before basking in the sun until their skin turned brown.

Varin wandered through the fragrance and thought.

This was why Yulveron had hurriedly sent the Inquisitors down in her previous life.

Those Inquisitors had rushed there to “take Prim into custody.”

Not to punish her for her crimes or execute her.

Yulveron must have known that Prim intended to kill herself.

And he could never allow her to die.

How could a god abandon a perfumer who could create a fragrance like this using nothing more than wildflowers scattered across a field, rather than expensive fragrance ingredients or precious flowers and plants carefully cultivated with love?

How could he give up a perfumer who could reconnect a god’s severed voice and make that voice manifest upon the earth?

—……I think I can give you divine revelations for about three days.

“I see. That’s good.”

There were hardly any proper fragrance ingredients here, after all.

“So that’s what you were saying earlier… What happens if I don’t offer you a fragrance?”

—……The god just praised your fragrance, and that’s all you have to say?

Prim answered immediately.

“I’m very happy. I really am.”