What Cannot Be Helped (5)
"Lady…"
"…"
"Lady Sien."
At the sudden sound of her name, Sien lifted her head.
Adel pointed ahead and spoke.
"Over there. The people of Lichtenauer have come out."
At his words, she slowly turned her gaze. Where there should have been nothing but open plain, the people of Lichtenauer were truly waiting.
"Waaaaah!!"
"Lichtenauer! Lichtenauer!"
They had faced three rifts at once and closed every one of them. Not a single demonic beast had escaped — all had been put down. Among the slain were even a fair number of beasts valuable enough to fetch a price. The first fallen in a month had come of it, yes. But even those losses were few, considering three rifts had opened. They had lost little and gained much. How could anyone not rejoice?
The knights and soldiers came home in triumph, shoulders squared, heads thrown back, spears held high. Lichtenauer's banners streamed as they marched in perfect order. They had achieved a feat worthy of a renowned swordsmanship family. This was a clear victory — and a crushing defeat for the demonic beasts.
"Lichtenauer! Lichtenauer!"
Everyone smiled as they welcomed the returning warriors and were welcomed in turn. What day could possibly be more joyful, more magnificent than this? The recent tragedy could not be washed away entirely — but some of it, at least, might finally begin to fade.
"…"
And yet Sien could not smile. She ought to have been smiling for them. She ought to have been proclaiming their proud victory. Why, then, did the faces of those few who had died keep rising unbidden in her mind?
From the start, losing no one at all had been impossible. This was not child's play, nor a sparring match with wooden swords. Win and live, lose and die — a brutal reality where life and death hung in the balance. Seventeen of their own had fallen, against hundreds of demonic beasts at the very least. And it had not been merely 5th-grade rifts. A 4th-grade had appeared. A 3rd-grade, too. It would not have been strange if one hundred and seventy had died instead of seventeen.
This was not a defeat. It was nothing to grieve over, nothing to sink into gloom about. As they were shouting even now, today was a day of glorious victory. Sien whispered as much to herself, and forced her body to move.
"Everyone. You have all endured so much. Today's victory is yours. On a day such as this, we cannot be without drink — for your sake, and for those who have gone before us."
She climbed atop the castle gate and looked down upon Lichtenauer's knights and soldiers. From that height, she ordered the wine casks stored within the castle to be opened at once.
"For this day only, I permit you to eat and drink your fill. Excessive revelry, however, is strictly forbidden. Those assigned to watch duty are also prohibited from drinking. I am sorry — but yield today to those who have returned from battle."
Laughter burst from among the soldiers. They were no doubt mocking the comrades who had drawn the watch.
"You are Lichtenauer's proud and glorious warriors. Thank you. For your sacrifice — truly. Everyone in this land will think so."
When Sien finished speaking, cheers once again filled Lichtenauer from wall to wall. And a short but lively festival, celebrating the victory, began.
Sien sat perched upon the ramparts, watching her people. Laughing, talking, eating and drinking — utterly ordinary souls. They may have been brave warriors on the battlefield, but in the end they were all people: people with families, people who wanted to live.
"My lady."
Approaching from behind was Guard Captain Rascal.
"Are you all right?"
"Why do you ask? Is there some problem?"
At Sien's reply, Rascal hesitated, his mouth working as if he meant to say something more. But his eyes fell upon the wine cup in her hand, and in the end he could say nothing at all. He withdrew.
"Senior… I mean, Captain. It seems the Family Head has taken quite a shock."
"Today was the first time we've had fallen. Until now, miraculously, there hadn't been any."
"We've grown numb to it by now, but… she hasn't, has she?"
At Knight Commander Brender's words, Rascal let out a low sound in his throat. Come to think of it, since Sien had become the official Family Head of Lichtenauer, this was the first time someone under her charge had died.
There was an enormous difference between knowing someone who lost their life, and having someone die because of one's own actions, one's own decisions. Guilt toward the departed. Reproach turned inward. All manner of dark thoughts wrapped themselves around the heart and shook it violently. If it grew severe enough, distrust of oneself could curdle into outright self-loathing. Rascal himself had lived through it, the first time he had taken command. It was a moment anyone who led and bore responsibility had no choice but to pass through. Fail to grow cold and clear-eyed there, and the next time the mistake would only be greater.
…She ought to be all right.
He had wanted to offer some word of comfort — anything at all, really. But Sien's eyes had sunk too deep for that. He was a man who had lost many himself, and he wanted to tell her that he understood. He knew all too well how vast the self-reproach and regret could be, the first time one fell into such a place. And because he knew, he could not easily open his mouth.
Whether she sensed Rascal's worry or not, Sien only tilted her cup in silence. She watched her people for a long while without a word. Then she rose and made her way to her chambers.
I'm tired. I want to sleep.
She wanted to fall asleep at once, and forget everything. And then, with a mind a little clearer, she wanted to meet tomorrow again. Sien collapsed onto the bed and closed her eyes.
But the fallen soldiers kept flickering before her. Their screams, their pitiful thrashing — all of it vivid.
Please. Please, just forget.
She thrashed without a sound. And only barely, Sien slipped into a thin and restless sleep.
Aaaagh! Aaaaagh!!
People were dying before her eyes. Hands vanished. Legs were sheared away. Heads were gone. And still those terrible screams rang out with perfect clarity. Another person lost their life in just the same way. But this time it was not just anyone. That face — it was her father, her proud father. And beside him, the older brother who had cherished her so fiercely.
"No. No…"
She strained with everything she had to save even those two, but it was no use. In the end, Sien lost them both all over again.
"Ah—!"
She sucked in a ragged breath and shoved herself upright on the bed.
"Hah— hah…"
Her whole body was soaked through with sweat. Her limbs felt as though they weighed a thousand pounds; she thought she might collapse then and there. But what crushed her most of all was the guilt and the terror. She felt as if she were choking to death.
Sien lurched to her feet and wrenched the door open without a second thought. She had not even dressed properly. She had not even put on shoes. She simply ran, and ran.
The door banged open. An unusually brilliant morning sun poured down upon her — but Sien did not feel even that as she made for the garden. She dropped onto the first bench that caught her eye.
"Hah! Hah! Hh—"
Calm down. Calm down. You can't fall apart over something like this. You didn't know it would be this way? Did you actually believe you wouldn't lose anyone? Pull yourself together, Sien. You are the Family Head of this place. You are the master of Lichtenauer.
"Hah… hah…"
The sensation of suffocating began, little by little, to recede. Only then could Sien truly see the landscape around her. A morning more radiant and warm than any she could remember. Had she ever seen a morning so beautiful?
But those who had died yesterday would never see this new day. They had died for her — died following her orders. However one looked at it, their deaths were her responsibility. And going forward, she would lose still more.
"…"
Sien's clenched fists trembled. Had the next voice not reached her then, she would have squeezed until her palms bled.
At that voice, Sien slowly turned her head. There he stood — Adel, wearing the same quiet expression as always, his voice as even as ever.
"Just now — just now, what did you…"
"I said not to try to do what cannot be helped."
He was a man so different from her it scarcely seemed fair. Strong. Sharp. Unshaken. If she could resemble even half of him, how good that would be.
"Adel."
"Yes, Lady Sien."
"I… I'm such a fool, aren't I?"
"…"
"I didn't even fight yesterday. All I did was give orders. And now I'm suddenly like this — blaming myself for their deaths. Isn't it laughable? Aren't I such a fool?"
Tears welled along Sien's lashes. She fought them back, but they hung there, ready to fall.
"Maybe that's why Etria looked down on me the way she did. A foolish woman. Weak, fragile, a child who knows nothing. Without a single thing I can actually do — just… I… a woman like me is truly…"
A soft step. He came forward, and quietly went down on one knee beside her.
"That is why. Because you are too good a person. You cannot simply be unmoved."
"Am I — am I not the strange one?"
"No. You are not strange."
"Weak, and foolish, and all of that…"
How many people felt the weight of another's death, reproached themselves for it, suffered and shed tears over it? In this world — this hell where dying in battle had become so ordinary — was there anyone left who still protected a single flower in their heart?
"You must endure. Until this hell comes to an end."
"I don't have the confidence, Adel. I… I don't have the confidence to be unmoved the way you are."
At Sien's answer, Adel slowly shook his head.
"I am not telling you to be unmoved."
"Then…"
"Rather, you pretend to be unmoved."
Who in this world could truly be unmoved? They merely pretended — pretended to be fine, deceived others and deceived themselves, clinging to their tattered selves and barely managing to live on.
"You too… Adel, you're not… unmoved either, are you?"
The question came flying at him. Adel rose from where he knelt. A faintly bitter look crossed his face, and he slowly nodded.
"Yes."
A short, clear answer. Watching him, Sien smiled — a faint, fragile thing.
