Chapter 189: My Sword (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 189: My Sword (1)
Winters in Secritia were short.
Summers in Kairis were short.
It was autumn in Secritia, or perhaps winter in Kairis. Standing in a high place, Chase looked as though he wasn’t about to jump for the first time since that day.
Though he had never been one for heavy drinking, he didn’t even touch the wine he habitually enjoyed.
Since Chase said nothing, the exact reason remained a mystery, but Teilan was incredibly grateful for the communication bracelet that glowed with a light so faint it was nearly invisible. The feeling was so strong that Teilan had to fight the urge to bow deeply in the direction of Kairisis.
Chase, who had lamented that their current lodging lacked a rooftop, stepped out onto the terrace with Teilan, holding a cup of the mint tea he drank whenever he had the chance.
After pacing for a long while under the cold moonlight, Chase took a deep breath and spoke quietly.
“…Prince Calian.”
Unfamiliar with the device, he had spoken the words aloud. Teilan quickly stepped closer and explained once more.
“It won’t transmit if you speak out loud.”
“Ah. Right, of course.”
Chase nodded.
Then, he turned to Teilan, who was standing beside him.
“Thank you, Sir Castrin.”
Being able to make contact like this was entirely thanks to Teilan.
Franz was a man of few words, and his letters were just as brief.
He had simply sent the bracelet clutched in the talons of that massive hawk, with a note that read only: ‘The 3rd Prince has something to ask.’ He had written nothing—absolutely nothing—about what the bracelet was, how to use it, or why it was necessary.
Naturally, he also omitted how much trouble Alan had gone through to modify it, or how Alan, worried the bracelet might be spotted in front of Devlan and cause trouble, had dimmed its light.
However, seeing that the letter referred to him as ‘the 3rd Prince’ rather than ‘my younger brother,’ Chase smiled faintly, sensing Franz’s own unique way of showing consideration.
“I’ll try again.”
With that, Chase focused once more.
A moment later, it seemed a proper conversation had begun.
He laughed a few times, then lowered his head.
He laughed a few more times, then lowered his head again.
Watching this, Teilan quietly closed the terrace door and stepped back inside. Walking a short distance away, he murmured to himself.
“Did he say it felt like he had found his lost younger brother…?”
Chase had certainly said something like that once.
Yet just now, he had spoken Calian’s name.
Only then did Teilan begin to vaguely understand the strange feeling he’d always had during their few encounters. Come to think of it, so many things about Calian resembled Chase.
Their way of speaking, their mannerisms, and even the way they walked felt remarkably similar.
“How strange.”
In any case, a great shadow seemed to have lifted from Chase’s face, which was a welcome development, even if the other party was a prince of Tensil rather than Kairis.
Teilan stepped out of the room, from which soft laughter drifted like welcome rain, and shut the door firmly.
He hoped that Chase, who usually only managed to fall asleep as the sun rose, might finally enjoy a peaceful night’s rest for the first time in a very long while.
* * *
—What about the sea? That might be nice, too. Since Kairis has no sea.
At the question, Calian let out a soft laugh.
It was a sound like waves rolling onto a beach not of fine sand, but of smooth, round, black pebbles.
—Yes. I do like the sea.
The spire of the Secritia Royal Palace was both a good place and a bad one. It was a place he always sought out as if possessed, a place to reminisce, but it was also a place that brought just as much pain.
So, while the spire was nice, what about the sea?
That was what Chase had asked.
It didn’t matter whose memories they were drawing from. They discussed whether the spire or the sea would be better, whether wine or some other drink would be preferred, and whether he even knew how to drink alcohol now.
Asking and answering.
That was all they did.
—Not long ago, I was gifted a small stretch of beach. Actually, I offered to pay its full price, but the transaction was settled with a single coin once again. The house is a bit large, but there are small rocks, a little island… The moon rises, the stars shine. It’s a peaceful, quiet place. A place Prince Calian would surely like.
Calian laughed again.
This time it was slightly different, a sound like a fine drizzle falling on a distant hill.
—I wonder what it’s like. I wanted to go there so badly, but I never could.
Neither of them mentioned where that sea was, yet they both pictured the same place and smiled.
Would the Calian of that time still be standing there? Would he be able to speak and laugh? Would his heart still be beating? And could he avoid being forgotten this time?
Would the Secritia of that day still be peaceful, simple, and beautiful?
They set all of those questions aside.
For the first time, they dreamed in voices free of anxiety.
—So.
As the dreamlike conversation drew to a close, Chase spoke.
—What is it you needed to ask me, Prince Calian?
Wise.
The ever-wise Chase.
He knew, of course, that sending a hawk all that way with a bracelet on its leg wasn’t just for a conversation that was like a spark from a bonfire—a tiny red flame that, once caught, cools in an instant, leaving nothing but black ash.
So, putting aside their dream-like talk, he was asking Calian to tell him what he truly needed to know.
—Next time. If it’s still not enough then, I’ll tell you.
Just as Franz had thought.
Hearing that voice, Calian couldn’t bring himself to speak. He realized that Chase missed him far more than he had ever imagined, and so he postponed his question.
—…The Axis of Time.
Chase’s words made Calian catch his breath.
—My birds saw something in the cave that day. They said it was in an unknown script. Other than that, I doubt there is any information Prince Calian would try to learn through me right now. Are you planning to compare those characters with what was engraved on the Axis of Time? Is it alright for me to speak of it?
Chase didn’t know it had reappeared beneath Heisia Palace. He had simply reasoned that if Calian was this curious about something, and was asking him of all people, it could only be about the Axis of Time.
When no answer came, Chase, having made up his mind, spoke again.
—To be honest, I haven’t given it much thought, so I may not know the details well myself. But I will try to recall everything. I’ll send you whatever comes to mind. Will that suffice?
Once again, Calian could not answer.
He could not explain, make excuses, or apologize for why he was doing this.
—Then I will assume that is our agreement, Prince Calian.
He couldn’t tell him why he had handed him a rotten rope, either. So he could say nothing at all.
—…Thank you.
—When you are alone. Or when you are frustrated. Or, if not…
Yet Chase understood both the words conveyed through mana and the words left unsaid. He understood, and he accepted.
—Or perhaps, when there is no reason at all. I will contact you again.
Though he couldn’t call him by his old name just yet, or sit down for mint tea together, he was promising to keep in touch.
—Anytime you like. I would welcome that.
Calian replied.
A laugh like wind brushing against the tips of slender blades of grass followed.
* * *
A few more days passed.
Time flowed on in a succession of strangely peaceful days, feeling both ordinary and extraordinary.
Then, one morning.
“So, that is…”
Calian, who had come to Alan’s office, stared at Arsen with a strange expression.
Unable to finish his sentence, he covered his face with one hand, fighting back a laugh as he so often did.
“What on earth is…”
He was struggling so hard to suppress his laughter that he failed to finish his sentence a second time. He had to remind himself that this was absolutely not a situation to be laughing about.
Calian shot the hardest glare he could muster at the blue-haired ice mage who had stood to greet him.
He had come to Wilhelm Hall with Kyrie on business. Specifically, to see Alan.
“I believe I told you clearly.”
Calian stared at the luxurious frame leaning against the side of a table in Alan’s spacious office. Mounted on a white background was a long strip of black fabric. It didn’t take him long to realize it was a piece of his own black robe.
“I told you to burn it, Sir Hertz.”
“I came to ask Commander Manasil for preservation magic. I fully intend to pass this down as a family heirloom for generations, Your Highness.”
“It reeks of blood.”
Arsen smiled, a look of absolute determination on his face. He would never throw away the piece of robe Calian had wrapped around him.
“It’s my blood, so it’s fine.”
“Well, I… I am not fine with it.”
Seeing the futility of the conversation, Calian, who was second to none when it came to stubbornness, took a step back. There was something else.
Barely tearing his gaze from the frame, which was beyond eccentric and downright bizarre, his eyes landed on Alan’s table.
A palm-sized human figure rested upon it.
“Give it to me. So I can melt it.”
It was an ice sculpture perfectly capturing the moment Calian had stood before Arsen, shielding him.
The madman had actually made it.
A statue of Calian!
Calian could feel Kyrie, standing quietly behind him, holding his breath. Even he was fighting back laughter.
“Ha.”
Supposedly, Arsen hadn’t made it life-sized because erecting a statue of a prince who wasn’t even the Crown Prince might reflect poorly on Calian.
He was even enthusiastic, saying that later, when Calian went to Camillon to raise dogs, he would make a proper, life-sized one.
“I don’t mind giving it to you, Your Highness. But in my opinion, even if I do, I’ll probably just make another one.”
His expression was entirely serious.
This was Arsen, after all, who never lied to Calian. He was speaking from the heart.
He didn’t mention, however, that he was also there to ask Alan if he could enchant the sculpture to repeat the cool words Calian had uttered that day—much like the statue at Alan’s house that said, ‘Welcooome to the home of Archmage Alan Manasil!’
He knew that if he said that, he might truly die in an instant.
“I shouldn’t have saved you, Sir.”
Calian, who also couldn’t lie, said this with an equally serious face.
He then resolved to stop by Wilhelm Hall after Arsen went home to destroy both the framed robe and the creepy sculpture.
Seeing this, Alan smiled faintly and manipulated his mana. The small sculpture that looked exactly like Calian melted away in an instant, vanishing as if it had evaporated.
After all, Arsen had said he would just make another one anyway.
“Please, sit down. You as well,” Alan said.
Having destroyed the source of Arsen’s stubbornness with a single touch, Alan spoke.
“Then I will try again later, when it is appropriate to make a proper one,” Arsen declared.
“Don’t. Absolutely do not.”
Crazy mages were nothing new, but realizing now that Arsen was the absolute worst of them all, Calian let out a deep sigh and sat on the sofa. He then gestured for Kyrie to sit with him.
“What brings you here?” Alan asked Calian, changing the subject.
By then, Kyrie’s face showed a hint of surprise as he tasted a soufflé cake topped with a sickening amount of syrup—perfectly suited to Alan’s tastes.
“I was thinking we might be short on people to train the knights once they join us, Master.”
Saying this, Calian gave Kyrie a meaningful smile before continuing.
“Even if he can’t instruct them, I believe he is more than capable of serving as a sparring partner. What do you think?”
He was proposing that Kyrie spar with the knights of Karen and Raon, the orders Franz had begun to manage.
After looking at Calian for a moment, Alan turned to Kyrie.
“Have you grown that much already?”
As he spoke, Alan noticed that the look in Kyrie’s eyes was different from when he had stood firm in the gambling den.
Despite Alan’s words, which were spoken like a proud mentor, Kyrie simply took a sip of his tea without saying much. He still didn’t know how to respond to praise about his abilities.
“I understand. I will convey the message to His Highness.”
“Thank you.”
Arsen, who was sitting nearby, smiled at Kyrie.
“Congratulations.”
At this, Kyrie’s face became thoroughly bewildered. To be precise, he hadn’t understood a single thing they’d said since Alan’s remark, “Have you grown that much already?”
Calian had brought him along without any explanation. He understood the part about sparring with the knights of Karen or Raon, but what on earth was this sudden congratulation for?
Seeing Kyrie’s puzzled expression, Arsen explained.
“How could a mere escort spar with knights?”
As Kyrie finally began to understand, Calian spoke with a smile.
“It’s time for you to be something other than my shield, Kyrie.”
Knighthood. Calian’s sword.
He was going to make Kyrie a knight.