Bird in the Birdcage #4: Glontes of Gluttony
In the flames of destruction engulfing him, the first thing Glontes encountered was an old name he had long discarded—one no one called him by anymore.
Estelon.
Why now, in this moment? What reason was there to dredge up such a worn-out, crumbling name?
Glontes pondered the irony even as he sank slowly into the echoes of that ancient name and the fragments of memory not yet consumed by the fire—back to the young man he had once been.
A nameless rural village, long since erased from any map. In a place with nothing to own and nothing worth learning, Estelon was born.
But that was fine. To him, that little village was the entire world, and knowing nothing else, he desired nothing more.
Estelon grew up quietly as one of the villagers, working the land, and took a plain but flower-loving woman named Mariella as his wife. They conceived a child.
That was enough.
⋯If only famine and plague hadn't ravaged the village, it would have stayed that way forever.
In a situation where even sturdy men were dropping dead from starvation and disease one after another, how long could a pregnant woman hold out?
Before Estelon could even lift a hand, his wife collapsed to the ground, never to rise again.
His wife, the child in her belly, even Bark who always paid him generously for his labor.
Nerella too—the tough old gossip who, whenever he passed by, would shove a freshly baked loaf into his hands.
In a village where everyone had died, Estelon was the sole survivor. Most unfortunately.
Even more unfortunate was the hunger gnawing at him amid it all.
How much time passed as he wallowed in despair's mire, unable even to bury his cold wife, leaving her abandoned?
Assailed moment by moment by the terror of death and the hallucinations born of starvation, he gradually lost his reason. His vision dimmed darkly. All that rang in his ears was the screams of his starving gut and the growing buzz of flies swarming the village.
In the end, Estelon began shoving whatever came to hand into his mouth, chewing and swallowing indiscriminately.
⋯What he swallowed, he couldn't remember. All that lingered in memory was the sudden clarity of vision, a revolting fullness bloating his belly.
And the empty village—devoid of even a single fly or corpse.
What happened? Estelon wondered blankly, the sole survivor.
Had everyone returned to the earth while he blacked out? Had that much time passed?
In the silent village that offered no answers, Estelon endlessly called the names of those he loved.
⋯Deliberately averting his eyes from the red stains clinging to his hands.
He even had a convenient excuse.
The absolute truth that humans do not attack other humans. ⋯Though whether that truth would deem a corpse "human" was questionable.
Days passed like that. And hunger returned.
-Poor thing, left all alone.
Then, a figure appeared out of nowhere. Wrapped head to toe in a red robe and a mask etched with strange runes, it was impossible to tell if it was man or woman. It spoke not with voice, but directly into his mind.
-Yet you are fortunate.
Uttering incomprehensible words.
As Estelon reflexively lunged to bite, it continued with utter conviction.
-Those you love are right here.
A gloved hand caressed Estelon's belly.
-All slumbering within.
“⋯⋯Ah?”
-Well done. Through your actions, you—and they—shall all be saved. You will surely reunite with them in this world.
The red robe fluttered in the cold wind.
-I am Chipera of Pride.
He—or she—proclaimed something as arrogant as their epithet.
-Conqueror of death.
Grabbing the jaw of the dazed Estelon staring up, they locked eyes through the mask.
-I bestow upon you a new name. Be reborn as my apostle to spread my will.
Why? Though unseen by the naked eye, Estelon felt the eyes behind the mask smiling.
-Do so, and you shall meet your loved ones again.
Will you? It wasn't a question. It was an irresistible command.
Thus, Estelon nodded eagerly.
-Good. Your name is Glontes.
Glontes of Gluttony.
That day, Estelon died.
“Ahh⋯⋯.”
The flames of destruction seared his mind and flesh alike. Amid the dizzying agony, Glontes opened his eyes and sobbed quietly.
“Great Chipera-nim⋯⋯. Grant this foolish Glontes an answer⋯⋯.”
No tears fell. They had long since burned away.
“When⋯⋯ when can I reunite with them⋯⋯?”
As if in response, Glontes' vision shifted.
Houses cobbled together from straw, wood, and dirt. Muddy paths that turned to sludge at the first rain, unpaved with stone. Smoke from chimneys, livestock dung, the thick mingled scent of mud paths and sweat tickled his nose.
A fragrance more beautiful than any feast.
“Ahh⋯⋯!”
Glontes rushed into the village, face alight with ecstasy.
At last, at last—his wish, Chipera-nim's promise, was fulfilled. So he believed.
Pleasingly taking in children's laughter, village women's chatter. Glontes entered his home.
There, he saw the back of a woman he had missed so dearly. With trembling hands, he reached out and gently grasped her shoulder.
She turned—and.
“⋯⋯Ah?”
She had no face.
“What's wrong, Glontes?”
The faceless woman spoke in a toneless voice.
“N-No! My name is, my name is⋯!!”
⋯What was it?
Glontes gasped, the name that had swirled in his mind moments ago now gone.
“What's wrong, Glontes?”
The faceless woman said again.
⋯What was her name? He couldn't remember.
“What's wrong, Glontes?” “What's wrong, Glontes?” “What's wrong, Glontes?”
“Uwaaaaaah──!!”
To the voices like a broken radio, Glontes tried to bolt from the house.
Had faceless villagers not gathered at the door.
“What's wrong, Glontes?” “What is it now, Glontes?” “What's wrong, Glontes?”
Glontes, Glontes, Glontes, Glontes, Glontes, Glontes, Glontes, Glontes, Glontes, Glontes, Glontes, Glontes, Glontes—.
“Aaaah! Chipera-nim! Chipera-niim──!!”
Glontes collapsed to the ground, wailing like a child.
But no answer came.
Only the buzz of flies crawling over his body.
“What's wrong, Glontes?” “What is it now, Glontes?” “What's wrong, Glontes?”
The voices of the dead.
“Why did you do it, Glontes?”
Crackle⋯⋯.
With that, the last fragment of Glontes' inner world burned away completely in the flames of destruction.
§
I brushed past Glontes sprawled on the ground.
Charred black, mouth agape to the end—but he was no longer worth my attention. Not even that.
I simply murmured lowly.
“Erhun.”
“⋯Y-Yes!”
“Where's Adella? Can you pick up her scent?”
What concerned me was whether Glontes' stench had overwhelmed Erhun's nose, preventing her from tracking Adella's fragrance.
“⋯It's fine. A bit pungent, but I can still find Belluna-nim's scent. But⋯⋯.”
Erhun hesitated, then looked up at me cautiously before continuing.
“Are you alright, Bardi-nim?”
“I'm fine.”
I cut her off curtly.
“More importantly, Adella's the priority now. Please, Erhun.”
“⋯Yes.”
She seemed to have more to say, but soon wrinkled her nose and began sniffing for Adella's trail.
How deep into the cave did we go? There, clinging to the wall, was a mass of transparent slime. Inside it—Adella, her face utterly serene.
My heart lurched.
“Adella!”
I rushed over and tore at the slime encasing her. The sticky, damp sensation clinging to my hands was utterly repulsive, but I ignored it.
And when I finally pulled Adella free from the slime mass, my heart thrashed like it was seizing.
No visible external wounds. But why did she look so much like my fallen squadmates?
“Adella!!”
I hugged her tight and cried out desperately.
My mouth endlessly muttered please, please, please.
Just as something in my chest threatened to crumble at the lack of response.
“⋯⋯Mm~?”
A drowsy, carefree voice—like someone just waking from sleep.
“⋯⋯Ricardo~? What's up~? I was sleeping and someone jumped me~?”
“⋯Adella?”
“Mm-hmm~. This is kinda⋯⋯ no, more than that⋯⋯.”
As if hiding her slightly flushed cheeks, Adella stared straight at my face.
“You okay, Ricardo~?”
“⋯⋯!”
I reflexively covered my still unsealed left eye.
No doubt it didn't look normal right now.
But.
“It's fine.”
Unlike her usual drawl, Adella spoke crisply, gently prying my hand from my left eye.
“It's fine, Ricardo.”
Mwah. Then, as she slowly caressed the skin around my left eye, she pressed her lips to my eyelid without hesitation.
“I don't know what's going on, but you saved me, right?”
“⋯⋯.”
“It's really cool, so no need to hide.”
“⋯Cool?”
“Yep~.”
Adella beamed.
“The coolest in the world.”
Like a flower blooming on parched earth.
And my left eye closed peacefully.
The heat lingered, but at least for now.