9
Chapter 9 Adult
Yurik woke with a start at the sound of a rooster crowing. Perhaps because he had tossed and turned all night in an unfamiliar bed before finally drifting off, his eyes were still heavy with exhaustion, stiff as unoiled hinges.
He pressed his face into the musty-smelling pillow with a low groan, then pulled it back out. When his feet touched the rough, cold wooden floor, the clinging grip of sleep startled awake and scurried away.
He washed his face in the basin he had filled with water the night before, then cleaned his hands and feet. He dressed, shouldered his pack, and stepped out of the narrow inn room.
It was still dark in the early dawn, and the hallway was absolutely rattling with the sound of snoring. As Yurik made his way down the creaking floorboards to the first-floor hall, he could see mercenaries heading out on early expeditions eating a morning meal. He squeezed in among them and had a tasteless bite to eat. …Still, it was more palatable than a failed potion.
Having quickly finished his meal, Yurik left the inn while it was still before dawn. Spring had already arrived, yet the morning air was still cold. He pulled his muffler tighter as he walked.
He could have stayed another day or two without any trouble, but Yurik felt no particular need to. Unless he were running short on travel money, his coin purse was still heavy enough—he had no more business here.
'I want to go see my brother quickly.'
It had already been nearly eight years since he had lost contact with Luke, his dearly missed elder brother. From the moment he had left Arpenheim, he had not had a single moment to spare.
He had sent letters occasionally, but whether they had reached his brother was unknown, and no letters had come from his brother's side either.
It was a remote rural village where only the occasional trading company passed through to buy lumber. There was no reason any courier would be willing to travel all that way just to deliver a single letter.
Yurik arrived at the carriage stop located at the south gate of Mound Castle.
The stop was bustling from the early morning hours with people who needed to be on their way. Old coachmen hung lopsidedly lettered signs around their necks bearing their destinations, grabbing every passerby and shouting their routes at the top of their lungs.
— Cors!
— Einbreeder!
— Pontu!
— Gailston!
Yurik, who had bought some dried pumpkin from a woman with an infant on her back and was chewing on it idly, walked up to the coachman calling out Gailston, paid his fare, and climbed into the carriage. There were already five passengers inside. From the dangerous-looking weapons they carried, four of the five appeared to be mercenaries.
When the sun began to creep up from the horizon, the coachman stopped calling for passengers and raised the footboard. The carriages departed almost simultaneously with the sunrise.
Perhaps incapable of holding back curiosity—much like a mage—a mercenary with a large scar across his face threw a question at Yurik, who looked like a young lord raised in comfort.
"You look like you've made your share of women cry. Where are you headed?"
"Back to my hometown."
At that, the scarred man slapped his knee, closed his eyes, and savored the word hometown.
"Hometown…! Right, having a place to go back to is a stroke of luck. Judging by the direction, somewhere in the south?"
"A very remote village in the south."
"Hah, look at you, making something of yourself. Your family'll be thrilled. …That said, don't go handing over everything you've got. There are more people in this world who ask for more than those who say thank you."
"Yes, I'll be careful."
Yurik smiled faintly in acknowledgment.
"That said, what a time to be heading there."
"…What do you mean?"
"Haven't you heard? The demons are apparently going on quite a rampage along the southern front. Right now, every bastard who's caught the scent of coin is flocking south. Me included, and these fellows too."
The man pointed a finger at several other mercenaries.
Nearly eight years cut off from the world. Yurik had naturally been left in the dark about outside news.
A flat-nosed female mercenary grinned wide enough to show all her yellow teeth, and toyed with the blade of her large axe with her thumb.
"Times like these, you rake in a fortune."
"A fortune, my ass. Small fry like us should just keep our hides in one piece and pick up whatever scraps fall our way."
"That's exactly why you lot are small fry for life, you bastard."
"As if you're any different."
"That's why I said I'm using this chance to shed that label."
"Know your place. If you've been small fry this long, small fry is your destiny. Don't go getting ideas and end up with your head cut off."
"For fuck's sake, go preach in a temple."
The words exchanged were harsh enough to suggest a fight was about to break out, but for mercenaries who lived with their necks on the line at all times, this was perfectly ordinary conversation.
Yurik turned his gaze out of the carriage.
'Southern front…, demons…, a fortune….'
He gazed for a moment at the vast plains bathed in spreading sunlight. The not-yet-ripe barley swayed like waves in the wind.
Before long, the noisy carriage had fallen quiet, filled only with the sound of sleeping breath. He pulled some paper and charcoal from his pack and drew the barley-ripening fields.
The road home was still long.
* * *
A full month later, Yurik arrived at Grozia, a barony with a population of fifty thousand. The unripened barley that had been green when he set out had already turned golden yellow, and the harvest was in full swing. The faces of the farmers welcoming a bountiful year were free of the hardships of an entire year, full of smiles.
Yurik wore out his feet quite a bit trying to find a carriage that would go as far as the rural village. Naturally, there was not a single coachman willing to make that long journey just for one passenger. In the end, he paid the fare for five and hired a small cart pulled by an old mule.
After another full half-day of traveling, Yurik finally saw a familiar stretch of road. It was the entrance leading into the village.
The small field plots and the old, crumbling wooden fence stirred a childlike wonder in him that he had thought long gone. The thought that he had finally arrived made his heart pound in a strangely overwhelming way. It was a feeling he could not put into words.
A little further in from the village entrance, he turned onto a winding road and caught sight of a familiar hill. Atop the rock bathed in the evening glow, there was nothing—empty and desolate.
The village finally began to come into view. A great deal had changed here and there. It had been a full eight years. Long enough that a baby born around the time he left would now be running and playing on its own.
The villagers watched the stranger arriving late in the evening with curious eyes. It was not a large group—just two people, and one of them was the coachman.
The coachman drove the carriage all the way up to the house Yurik directed him to. There was a low hill in the middle of the route, so Yurik got off and walked a short stretch. Even so, the mule groaned and struggled to climb it.
And so he finally arrived at his childhood home. When the carriage stopped in front of his house, the family who had been watching from the window came outside. His parents, whose hair had already turned salt-and-pepper, came out and asked who it was.
His parents had always been cold and unfeeling, yet standing before them, Yurik felt his chest tighten.
"Father, Mother, it's me."
"………Yurik?"
Yurik embraced his father and mother. He spotted a small child clinging to the doorframe. An unfamiliar face—so it must have been the younger brother born after he had left.
There was no one else. Neither his eldest brother, nor his second brother, nor his brother Luke, nor his sister Yeri.
"And my brothers?"
"They've all left already."
His father's voice was heavy.
"Come inside for now."
His mother took Yurik by the hand. He also welcomed in the grandfather coachman who had worked so hard to bring him this far.
They appeared to have been in the middle of dinner; the table had dishes of food set out on it. Life seemed unchanged—the food in the bowls was not all that different from what it had been years before.
His mother brought out two more bowls and served food to Yurik and the coachman. And because her son had come home after so long, she even brought out a hard loaf of bread and some dried meat.
His father seemed to think that last part was unnecessary, but he did not say so out loud.
"How have you been getting on all this time?"
"I followed a mage mentor. And I learned magic."
His father and mother's eyes went wide with surprise. They had assumed he had simply run off after some mercenary out of longing for city life—they had no idea any such story had unfolded.
"You learned magic? You're a mage?"
"Yes, I'm a mage. I became independent not long ago."
"Is that so. Good. Good. Good."
His father muttered the words over and over as he dipped his spoon into his soup. But the spoon, once dipped, did not make its way to his mouth for a long while.
"But where are Brother Luke and Yeri now?"
At that, the atmosphere grew strange.
"Yeri got married not long ago. To Daik down the road. You remember him, right? Big, strong fellow."
Yurik vaguely remembered. Daik. A big fellow, but a simple, good-natured one, if he recalled correctly.
"Luke…, I don't know. What became of him. He left five years ago."
"He left? But Brother has a bad leg."
"He left, that's all. I don't know anything after that. He's not here."
And so the meal ended with a somewhat uncomfortable full stop. His mother showed Yurik and the coachman to where they would sleep. His younger brother, endlessly curious about something, kept trailing after them the whole time.
Yurik ruffled his brother's hair and pulled some dried fruit from his pack to give to him. The coachman lay down the moment he found his sleeping spot and was out cold, snoring away.
After confirming the coachman was asleep, Yurik slipped out of the house alone and made his way down the road. He went to Daik's house and knocked loudly. The door opened and a young man who appeared to be Daik came out alongside a fully grown young woman. In her face, he found the traces of the little sister he had known.
"Yeri."
"……Oppa?"
But perhaps because the years apart had been too long. Yeri did not seem to cherish the memories of the old days quite the way Yurik did. And back then, she had been so young. The time they had spent together, from when she first started walking properly until he left, had been barely two years or so. And he had been gone for nearly eight years before coming back.
Daik, who had always been guileless, still was. He welcomed Yurik back warmly after such a long time away.
"Come in and have a cup of tea before you go."
But Yurik waved his hand and declined.
"I just meant to say hello and head back."
"…Alright, then…."
Daik stepped aside to give them a moment. Yeri came out the door and stood facing him.
"You've really grown up. And married now, no less."
The tomboy she had once been only smiled shyly.
"Knowing you're doing well is a relief. I feel like I can leave with peace of mind now."
"You're leaving already?"
"I have to go tomorrow. This was just a short visit."
Yurik opened the pack he had brought and handed Yeri a bundle. When she untied it and looked inside, it was a heap of silver coins.
"It's too… much, Oppa. Is it alright to accept this much?"
"Take it, it's fine. Truly. Use it for your family."
Then he handed her a piece of paper and a small sculpture. It was a portrait he had drawn of her and a sculpture of the three siblings sitting side by side.
"I'd be glad if you kept these too."
"Yes, they're beautiful. I'll treasure them."
"Good…. But Yeri, have you heard any news about Brother?"
"Luke Oppa?"
"Yes."
Yeri watched Yurik carefully.
"It's all right, you can tell me."
"……He was feeling the pressure. When Yurik Oppa suddenly disappeared, there was such an uproar. You know what Father's temper is like. In the end, he couldn't bear it any longer and left on his own."
Ah.
Hearing that, Yurik felt his chest burn and his eyes grow red. Thinking of his brother, who would have walked that long road alone with his limping leg.
"After that, there's been no news. It's been quite a while. …I'm sorry, Oppa."
Yeri wept. She, too, knew well how dearly Brother Luke had cherished her. Just as he had been for Yurik, Luke must have been something like a father to her as well.
"……No, what do you have to be sorry about. It's all right. Don't cry. I'll look for him. I'll keep looking until I find him. So don't worry and take care of yourself. All right?"
"I'm sorry. For being no help at all…."
Yurik held Yeri in a tight embrace. She sobbed in his arms for a long while.
"It's gotten late. Go inside now. Collect yourself. All right? I'll make sure to find Brother, so don't worry."
"Okay."
"Good…. Then take care."
"You too, Oppa. Stay safe."
Yurik left Daik's house. But rather than returning to his childhood home, he climbed the hill that he and his brother Luke had always gone to together.
The hill overlooking the village, bathed in moonlight. The rock where the three of them had once drawn pictures and carved sculptures together sat empty.
Yurik walked slowly over to it and settled himself on the rock. And like that, gazing off somewhere into the distance, he stayed there through the night.
Returning home in the early hours of dawn, he came face to face with his parents, who were already up boiling feed for the livestock. He placed a coin purse on the table. His father, as though he had been waiting for it all along, snatched it up in an instant and checked the contents.
"Use it for your living expenses."
Yurik had a simple meal with the coachman and got ready to leave. He pressed a soft kiss to the forehead of his younger brother, who had not yet woken.
'Listen to what Yeri Noona tells you. Grow up to be a fine young man.'
In response to his mother asking when he would come again, Yurik replied:
"I'll be going somewhere very far away. I don't know when I'll come back."
The coachman clicked his tongue and gave the mule a light flick of the reins across its hindquarters.
The carriage began to move, clip-clop clip-clop, making its way along the road. Yurik spotted Yeri standing at the roadside. He sent her a smile of farewell.
Goodbye, take care.
My home, my sister.
My childhood.
Yurik did not look back.
He left his hometown again.
* * *
The young man woke early in the morning. Rising from a corner of the stables, he limped along busily to feed the horses their hay.
Then he mucked out the stalls, changed the water, and by the time he was done, the sun had already begun to creep up. A short while later, the innkeeper came out carrying a bowl of food and held it out to the young man. He bowed his head in thanks.
But he did not eat the food right away. Carrying the bowl, he headed into the back alley. There, he found destitute little children with nowhere to go.
"Come on, let's eat."
It was barely enough for one person, but he gave most of it to the children.
The young man spent the entire day dragging his unsteady leg from stable to stable. He mucked out the dung, fed the horses, cleaned the surroundings, and the innkeepers gave him food in return. This was the best he, with his disability, could manage.
It was a life some might call unfortunate. But he did not think of it that way.
How great a fortune it was to be able to earn his own keep, and to feed children without parents!
Watching the children, the young man would sometimes think of his younger brother, who had left. His dear, beloved little brother. He would certainly have become someone great by now.
He also taught the children how to draw and how to carve. And from time to time, he told them about his younger brother. The story of a boy who had left his hometown to follow a mage.
The young man sometimes faced rough treatment from the stable's customers, but even so, he never lost his smile.
That's just how life goes sometimes. He always told the children never to lose hope, too.
— Then someday, a mage will appear.
And today, too, the young man went about the stables.
Mucking out the dung, feeding the horses, changing the water, tidying up, and then……
"Brother."
At the voice calling his name, the young man's body trembled violently as though struck by lightning.
"Brother Luke…."
Luke slowly turned his head. The one he knew so well, the one he had missed so terribly.
How could he not recognize his beloved little brother at a single glance!
"Yurik…."
"Brother Luke."
Luke did not move. Could not move.
Tears streamed down his face.
The tears he had not shed even once since leaving his hometown.
My dear, beloved brother.
"Yurik…!"
"Brother."
The two of them, who had been standing still for a long while, as if by agreement broke into a run toward each other and held one another close.
"Thank you. Thank you. Heavens above."
The two who had become each other's homes.
That's just how life goes sometimes.
But do not lose hope.
— Then someday, a mage will appear.
A mage had appeared for Luke too.
His beloved brother had returned.
Luke wept in Yurik's arms.
Now, his little brother was grown enough to hold his brother's tears.
They had become adults.