Chapter 230: I've Been Very Patient (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 230: I've Been Very Patient (4)
Sudden, unannounced events had always defined his life.
Bern’s life had been that way, and so had his death. The life he began as Calian was no different. Even now, everything continued to crash down upon him without warning.
Granted, whose life wasn't like that? And yet, Calian could say with absolute certainty that he had been thrust into an unexpected life unlike any other, and every single moment since had been just as abrupt.
So, just this once, couldn't he turn the tables and summon someone out of the blue? Just this once, if he dared to seek her out uninvited, wouldn't she indulge him and appear? He’d harbored such thoughts, placing a vague, groundless faith in the ever-thoughtful Sispanian.
Yet once again, it was Calian who found himself chuckling wryly at the sudden outcome.
"It seems the surprise is always mine to bear."
As the door to the hollow opened, Calian spotted an unfamiliar shadow in the otherwise familiar space. The words slipped out before he could stop them.
There was no reply.
He hadn't expected an answer, so he simply bowed his head in respect.
"I greet the most magnificent Sispanian."
His greeting was directed toward a single black cat sitting gracefully upon the Axis of Time, a realm still inaccessible to anyone else.
Perhaps because he had already gone through a similar experience, albeit in a different form, greeting a cat that possessed no life force whatsoever didn't feel all that strange.
The cat, whose entire body shimmered with a dark luster, raised its red eyes—which looked as if they had been crafted from the most beautiful rubies on earth—and gazed at Calian. Meeting those eyes, Calian’s lips curved into a wide smile.
A cat, of all things.
He had understood the meaning behind the black butterfly, but why a cat this time?
He couldn't fathom the reason.
Calian stood still for a moment, staring at the haughty black cat. Its color, demeanor, and aura were nothing like Lucy's, who would always trot over and rub against his ankles at the sight of a person.
He couldn't read it.
While a black butterfly symbolized death, a black cat symbolized nothing.
He knew Alan often called him a black cat with red eyes, but that was merely an affectionate nickname from someone who had recognized his hidden claws. Surely it held no deeper significance.
"I wondered if you would welcome this form as well."
Sispanian's quiet reply came, as if she had read his thoughts. The sound was impossible to place.
"I do not know what meaning lies behind the black cat," Calian asked, wondering if there was some other significance known only within Kairis.
The cat slowly blinked its large eyes once.
Again, a reply echoed from an untraceable direction.
"It is exactly as you know."
Calian slowly blinked his own red eyes, mimicking the cat.
It meant that, just as he thought, there was no particular meaning to the black cat. In other words, she had been curious to see if he would welcome this meaningless form as warmly as he had welcomed the black butterfly that day.
"...Ah."
Needing a moment to decipher her words, Calian silently called out to someone else.
...Oh, Founding King Hatsuara.
Of course, I’m the one who came here uninvited.
I sought her out because I had something to ask, but the moment we met, I began to regret it.
I can barely keep up with my older brother's cryptic remarks, but I simply cannot get used to Sispanian's vague way of speaking.
So, Hatsuara.
Did you actually understand everything she said when you two conversed? No, before that, did you two even have what could be called a proper conversation?
If you can hear me, please give me an honest answer sometime. For some reason, I feel like I'm suffering from a plight quite similar to yours—all because of this hereditary brevity that feels far more potent than any blessing.
"Since I am the one who sought you out, how could I not be glad to see you?"
Naturally, he couldn't voice his long grievance to Hatsuara aloud, so a perfectly normal response came out of his mouth.
Could it be that this Ancient Dragon misses someone who would welcome her no matter what form she took? Is it because the one person who would welcome her regardless of her appearance is no longer here that she came in this whimsical form and asked such an enigmatic question? He pushed that sudden thought aside as well.
If his suspicion was correct, it was far too cruel a reality to dwell on.
The one who cursed being forgotten had sought out the one who likely cursed her inability to forget.
"Furthermore," Calian quickly pushed aside his spiraling thoughts and spoke again.
"Your essence remains the same regardless of the form you take. Why should your appearance make any difference to me?"
Whether it was a black butterfly, a black cat, the form of a black dragon he had yet to see, or the form of the woman she usually showed him—all of them were Sispanian. There was no way to distinguish between being glad or not based on whether a form held meaning...
...Ah.
He finally understood.
As the thought resurfaced, Calian finally grasped Sispanian's true intent and bowed his head slightly.
"Thank you."
Sispanian.
Truly, the thoughtful Sispanian.
She must have heard the voice of one who was losing himself again today.
She was reminding him that outward appearances didn't matter, nor did the meanings people assigned to them over time. Only the essence within truly counted. That was why she had come in such a form.
She had come in a form that held no meaning at all.
"You always teach me something."
The cat’s red eyes blinked slowly once more. Taking it as a smile, Calian smiled back.
"You seem to have many thoughts today as well."
"My thoughts are what brought me here, so it's only natural they linger."
"I see."
With a light, nimble leap, the cat landed on the floor.
Calian looked down, thinking that the way its paws gathered together closely resembled Lucy's movements. The instant its hind paws touched the ground, the black cat was enveloped in a shroud of light.
Just as the black butterfly had done before, a miniature universe gathered around the red-eyed black cat. Before long, its shadow stretched long, shaping itself into a familiar figure.
As he watched the round paws of the cat transform into the tips of slender shoes, a voice sounded from right beside him. Her voice was warmer than during their second meeting, which in turn had been warmer than their first.
Strangely, her words brought Chase to mind.
"Do not grieve too deeply over being forgotten. It is sorrowful enough to be unable to forget. If you grieve over being forgotten on top of that, it becomes difficult to comprehend what greater sorrow there could be. Just consider it a small injustice."
The red eyes speaking those words so closely resembled Calian's own, and looked just as sorrowful, that he could say nothing in return.
"Yes," he replied briefly.
He couldn't bring himself to speak of his own sorrow to the Ancient Dragon, who was still trying to understand why he grieved for what was lost. Looking into those red eyes, which so clearly still yearned for the departed, he could offer no words of comfort.
"I will do so."
He found comfort in her very human gesture, a reminder that he was not alone in his sorrow. Though she likely hadn't intended it, Calian was comforted. He hadn't come here seeking solace, yet once again, solace was what he received.
Finally, a smile broke across his face.
"Speak. I am listening."
During their last two encounters, Sispanian had peered directly into Calian's mind, pulling out his unspoken thoughts to answer them. This time, however, she was asking him to speak first.
Nodding slightly, Calian voiced his question.
Upon hearing it, Sispanian let out a soft chuckle.
"How very strange."
After a long silence, Sispanian spoke, her eyes fixed on Calian.
"You resemble him."
Instead of an answer, Sispanian offered this impression. That Calian, who had not a single drop of Hatsuara's blood in him, resembled the man.
That he resembled Hatsuara.
"In what way do I resemble him?"
Flustered by the claim that he resembled the founder of a neighboring kingdom—rather than some nameless ancestor of his own—Calian asked, unable to tell if it was a compliment.
"In the way you seem to be utterly devoid of reason."
It was not a compliment.
*
He had no intention of keeping track of Calian's every move.
—I hear he is currently speaking with the 1st Prince in Chermil Palace.
Yet, Relic had brought him the news. Relic had likely shared it out of concern that Calian meeting with Randel might harm Franz, but Franz wasn't the least bit curious.
—My apologies. Prince Calian visited Heisia Palace, so I am late because I had to attend to him for a moment.
Then, to make matters worse, he heard more.
This came from Needlen, who was scheduled to assist the two vice-commanders with administrative work starting tomorrow.
Calian hadn't visited in secret, so Needlen wasn't being loose-lipped. The only problem was that Franz didn't want to know. The messenger wasn't at fault.
Right.
He definitely wasn't curious.
His crazy younger brother, whose thoughts were always impossible to read, had formulated a grand plan to stab Serenti in the back, and now he had met with Randel and gone to Heisia Palace.
"...Ha."
How on earth could anyone not be curious after hearing that?
What kind of trouble was he planning to stir up this time that he had to go so far as to meet Sispanian?
Reaching that point in his thoughts, Franz let out a short sigh, turned the final page of the document he was reviewing, and set it down.
Scrape—
Franz pushed back his chair and stood up. Arsen, who was sorting tasks to hand over to Needlen, looked up from his work.
"Where are you going, Prince Vice-Commander?"
"I'm done here."
At those words, Arsen glanced out the window.
The sun hadn't even fully set.
I've finished my work, so I'm leaving.
Whether you work overtime or not, mage, is up to you.
Shaking off the feeling that he could practically hear those words ringing in his ears, Arsen pressed on.
"I was asking where you are going, Prince Vice-Commander."
Normally, Franz would have snapped back, asking why he wanted to know. Instead, he turned his head to look at Arsen.
Franz looked down at Arsen with an expression typically reserved for a creature he considered no more significant than the air they shared, and opened his mouth.
"To drag my brother back."
Having successfully shut Arsen's mouth with words the mage likely never expected to hear in his lifetime, Franz walked out of the office with leisurely strides.
*
The rain had stopped.
It was a strange thing.
Could it be that Sispanian dislikes the rain, too? Is that why she stops it every time she visits? After briefly entertaining the worthless thought, Calian chuckled and stepped out from the basement of Heisia Palace.
A man who looked like a dried, unripe tomato was standing there.
The reason for his arrival was obvious. Staring silently at the crown of that head, which still looked as fresh and green as a sprout, Calian spoke quietly.
"I'm not causing trouble."
Franz stared blankly at Calian, hearing the undisguised annoyance in his tone. Since the kid was incapable of lying, it meant one of two things: either he truly had no intention of causing trouble, or he simply didn't consider what he was about to do to be 'trouble.'
"What is it, then?"
"If I tell you, you'll just interfere again."
"Because my dear younger brother only ever stirs up trouble he can't possibly handle."
Even if he resisted, it was obvious what Franz would say.
As long as he didn't untie the bond on his heart, how could he ever win a verbal dispute against this green-haired bastard?
Thus, Calian let out a short sigh and spoke.
"What the King of Secritia wants is a healer, isn't it? Though he's dragging me into it under that pretext, what he ultimately wants is a cure for his illness."
The long-winded explanation only hardened Franz's expression, convincing him his brother was indeed planning to cause trouble. Since his thoughts were written plainly on his face, Calian continued without stopping.
"Anyway, even if the King of Secritia tries to coax the elves, I need at least one advantage to keep them from doing anything else. That's why I went to see Sispanian. To ask her where the elves' 'Mother Tree' is."
"And when I did, Sispanian laughed," Calian said, grinning broadly.
"And what do you plan to do once you find it?"
"I'm going to use what I learned from the King of Secritia. Since negotiations are out of the window, it's time for the next step."
"And when I told her that, Sispanian swore at me," he added, beaming.
Franz's eyes narrowed.
He knew all too well that Calian was only this excited because he had ultimately gotten the answer he wanted from Sispanian about the location of the elves' Mother Tree.
"I asked what you plan to do to the elves' guardian."
Facing Franz, who was staring at him with eyes full of distrust, Calian—who was playing his role as the 'crazy younger brother' to perfection in their utterly unhinged sibling dynamic—replied in a calm, gentle voice.
"If negotiations fail, the next step."
"Trees, generally speaking, burn quite well."
Franz closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them.
He immediately realized what Calian was thinking.
This crazy bastard was planning to use that blue-haired mage again.
If negotiations failed, the next step was intimidation.
He intended to threaten the elves.
Taking the Mother Tree hostage, he had undoubtedly planned to send the King of Secritia a beautifully packaged box of Lucy's droppings.
"Ah."
Having grasped the gist of Calian's plan, Franz let out a dry chuckle of understanding. Unbelievably, it carried the implication that he had no intention of stopping him this time.
The cleared sky burned red.
Glancing up at it, Franz looked into Calian's equally red eyes and spoke.
"It should burn quite well."
Whether Lemain, blessed with such wildly unhinged sons, would clutch the back of his neck in frustration was of no concern to them.