Fellow Sufferers (1)
I carved the names of the fallen onto twenty-two stones, six names to each. It was the traditional process for a funeral in the Magic Kingdom.
Even with magic at my disposal, the work took a full two hours before it was done.
At last, everything was ready.
I opened my mouth slowly.
"Boys. You came out to the battlefield so young, and you've had it hard. I understand every injustice, every grievance. I will never forget your sacrifice — so let go of what has passed, go home, and rest easy."
A parting blessing.
And then —
A discharge order.
Comrades who had once shared the same meals, laughed together, and fought at my side.
It was time to send old bonds on their way.
"You've all done well. Thank you for your service."
As the man called the names of the fallen one by one, the power of the evil spirits grew steadily weaker. Soul by soul, they flew before him, saluted, and rose straight into the sky.
Ascension.
There was no other way to see it.
"How…?"
There were two main ways a dead soul found peace. Either it left of its own accord, free of lingering attachment in life — or it wandered the mortal world until it met a cleric and was finally guided to the heavens.
The man had granted them ascension.
Despite not being a cleric.
Despite their being vengeful spirits so thoroughly corrupted by a demon that not even a cleric could have saved them.
It was a complete repudiation of everything Tiria had built up through knowledge and experience.
"Excuse me."
The man called to her.
"I can't see what they look like myself — could you check whether they've all gone?"
"…Yes. They're gone."
The vengeful spirits had vanished. Every last one of them, cleanly.
"I'll be honest — I'm astonished. You're the first person I've ever seen grant ascension to evil spirits instead of banishing them."
"Don't call my brothers evil spirits."
"I'm not calling them that out of personal feeling. I can distinguish evil spirits from pure ones by the color of their souls. Souls that do harm simply by existing give off a black, murky light."
Tiria went on.
"It may be rude to say this given the mood, but… their souls had already been sold to a demon. Normally, people like that are beyond saving. And yet the moment you ordered their discharge, the color of their souls brightened again."
Over the past two years, Tiria had seen countless spirits who had died unjustly. But she had never once seen a corrupted soul ascend.
"You're the first."
"Is that so."
The man looked down at the stone cairn with a complicated expression.
"Saintess. We may be enemies, but may I ask one favor of you?"
"Go ahead."
"Would you offer a single prayer for my men?"
Tiria's eyes went wide.
"Your people don't even believe in the Holy Spirit Church. Didn't you always say prayer was nothing but superstition and refuse it?"
"Not believing and disliking are two different things. What dead man would object to someone praying for the repose of his soul?"
"But… you heard them earlier yourselves. Is it really all right to pray for the peace of souls who begged you to kill me?"
"That's exactly why I'm asking."
Tiria's mouth closed. The man continued.
"I've heard that a high-ranking cleric's prayer affects a spirit's next life. A prayer from a Saintess ought to be enough to save even the ones who tried to use a Burnt Offering, don't you think?"
He was right. A Saintess's requiem was a guaranteed ticket to heaven. At least, that was what the Order taught as truth.
Which was why Tiria had been raised on this instruction:
Never, under any circumstances, save a mage's soul. Banish every one you see. If you foolishly grant them salvation and their souls rise to paradise, the upper realms will be defiled and the order of the world will fall into chaos.
By principle, she should refuse. And yet —
"If it's too much to ask, you don't have to."
"No. I'll do it."
Tiria startled herself. What? Did I just agree to that?
"Thank you."
The words were already out; she couldn't take them back. Not when this mage was wearing such a gentle expression.
Tiria thought fast. She needed an excuse before the Goddess grew angry.
She knew the teachings of every denomination, so inventing a pretext was not difficult.
"In the Holy Spirit Church, there are four goddesses. The Goddess of Battle, the Goddess of Healing, the Goddess of Craft — and… the Goddess of Embrace."
Leveron, Goddess of Embrace.
"A compassionate figure said to take in not only nonbelievers, but atheists and even mages."
"I've never heard of a goddess by that name."
"To be honest, the Goddess of Embrace is only one interpretation that arose in the process of reading scripture. It isn't mainstream. The Central Orthodox Church I belong to doesn't recognize her existence."
"And you're allowed to say something like that? Won't they call you a heretic?"
"It doesn't go as far as heresy. It's only a difference in how doctrine is interpreted."
"Sounds like you're stretching it to fit."
"Ahem."
Tiria cleared her throat and folded her hands together. Glittering motes rose around her — as if the stars of the night sky had settled onto the canvas of the sand and formed an image.
"Goddess of Embrace. Guide them, I pray, to a better place. Forgive the sins of their past, and fill their next life with joy and glory."
"May they rest in peace."
Why?
Why was she, an enemy, praying for the repose of the Magic Kingdom's dead? Only moments ago she had believed them irredeemable evil spirits and fought with everything she had to banish them.
She didn't know. She had no idea how it had come to this.
When the prayer was finished, Tiria let out a breath.
"If word gets out that I held a requiem for Magic Kingdom soldiers, the High Priest will be beside himself. It might even go as far as excommunication."
"It seems I asked too much. I'm sorry."
"I did it of my own free will. You don't need to apologize."
"Then I'll carry this debt to my grave. Thank you."
Tiria was more than a little shaken.
Thank you?
Did a mage just say that to me?
Suddenly she remembered the things he had said and done earlier that day.
From his claim that he would desert if the Magic Kingdom were researching a sealing curse, to the bitter look on his face when he heard he had killed people by developing military magic stones.
Until then, she had suspected it was all an act.
But what he had just shown her was something no performance could achieve. Yes — perhaps this was his true self.
"Ah."
"Is something wrong?"
"It's nothing."
A sudden catch in her breath, as if her throat had closed.
…Don't tell me.
Have I been unconsciously drawn in by this man's sincerity?
Tiria was afraid of the man in front of her.
Afraid that she might come to feel something for him — her enemy.
Afraid that a lifetime of carefully built faith might be torn out by the roots.
After finishing night duty with the Saintess, I woke the Valkyrie for the shift change and slept until morning. Honestly, it wasn't a restful night. Maybe because of that wretched experience in the small hours.
"David, how long did I sleep?"
"About five hours, sir."
Longer than I'd expected.
The fatigue hadn't fully left me, but once the sun was up, I had to move. Aside from the few pieces of fruit the Valkyrie had brought yesterday, we had no food. If we didn't secure something to eat in time, we wouldn't be able to fight the monsters properly either.
I climbed down from the rock and walked toward the lifeboat. Two women's voices drifted over.
"Colonel, what happened last night?"
"Why do you ask?"
Maybe I'd been hearing so much Ascalian that I was starting to pick some of it up. I could make out bits of what the Valkyrie and the Saintess were saying — though at best I understood a few words at a time.
"You kept staring at the mage yesterday."
"I was only watching him. Making sure he didn't try anything strange."
"For someone who was just watching, your eyes looked awfully… pink."
"It was the light — you mistook red for pink. Ahem. Anyway, shouldn't we talk about what we're doing today?"
The moment the sentences got any longer, I lost the thread. No idea what they were on about.
The Saintess shot to her feet in a hurry. Our eyes met.
Cherry-blossom pink. Had she felt embarrassed talking to the Valkyrie?
"Ahem."
Clearing her throat, the Saintess came over and spoke.
"Good morning, Mage."
"Morning."
"We talked about it yesterday. Do you remember?"
"Yes — that I'd go to the lake with you."
"Brokenheart will hold this position. While the Major fishes, we'll scout other routes and gather water and food. And look for any other natives, if there are any. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Water and food. That much I got. I nodded.
Of course water and food mattered — but the first thing I was going to do the moment we reached the lakeshore was already decided.
A bath.
I hoped I could finally do something about this greasy hair. And while I was at it, shave with a knife. Even if you've washed up on a deserted island, you still have to keep clean. Otherwise you're just asking to get sick.
It was a little embarrassing that the Saintess coming with me was a woman, though.
"Think about it. She's a Saintess, after all. This is a woman who was so mortified at the idea of bare legs that she tried to put on stockings in this weather."
David's words took the edge off my worry.
Right. Of course.
She was a Saintess, after all.
Surely she wouldn't watch a man bathing?
She did.