Chapter 264: To See the Sea (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 264: To See the Sea (4)
Calian smirked as he looked at the purple wine.
He knew the duke had put away his usual strong liquor in favor of wine because its color resembled Serie's hair. Of course, this was Bern's knowledge, not Calian's.
"I apologize for my earlier behavior, Duke Siegfried."
This was not an apology to Suleiman, the father of Yan and Demirea, but to Suleiman, the head of House Siegfried. It was an apology from a prince to a duke, a formal acknowledgment that, setting all personal feelings aside, he had not been able to trust him completely.
"It's only natural you were startled. A man who should be at home—a three-day journey from here—petting a dog named after his son's nickname, suddenly barges in reeking of blood. Besides, I hear the little elephant has started to wander off on her own path. In a situation like that, it's perfectly understandable that you wouldn't blindly welcome a wolf pup into your home. So, I understand. If anything were to happen, the kingdom would become quite… interesting, wouldn't it?"
Replying in a hearty voice, Suleiman burst into laughter as if recalling the state Calian had been in earlier. Only after a long moment did his laughter subside. He pointed at the wine glass in front of Calian.
"Why don't you leave the wolf pup, who must be sleeping soundly and safely, to himself and have a drink as well, Your Highness?"
"I've quit drinking."
It was the exact same answer he had once given Franz.
The response clashed heavily with his youthful appearance, but what did it matter? Even that pale, grass-haired brat lived his life with everyone believing he had quit drinking.
"To quit something so wonderful—you are truly remarkable."
"If I hadn't, the label of 'scoundrel' would probably be attached to me instead of my brother."
"Did you love it that much?"
"...Well, I simply leaned on it to survive."
At the sixteen-year-old prince's reply, Suleiman merely nodded without a hint of mockery.
"There are times I find myself wondering what your true self was like. Hearing you say that makes me think it would have been nice to meet him, at least once."
"Are you not meeting that very self now?"
"There is a legend that as the Founding King aged, Sispanian turned her own hair white to match his. No matter how great a hero one might be, as long as they are human, they cannot live completely unaffected by their outward appearance. Sispanian must have adjusted herself to him, don't you think?"
Wetting his throat with a sip of the translucent purple wine, Suleiman continued.
"You are human too, Your Highness, so it must be the same for you. Whatever the soul inside, it eventually conforms to its vessel. Thus, I can't help but be curious about the original, undoubtedly magnificent soul."
Calian let out a soft chuckle without replying.
"May I ask what kind of person he was?"
"Well… what kind of person was he?"
His red eyes drifted toward his teacup. A wonderful aroma wafted from the tea, which was infused with some unknown yellow flower. He didn't particularly need hot tea, but for some reason, thinking of Yan had made him ask for a warm cup.
Calian briefly recalled a man who had leaned on alcohol instead of Yan, who had stared at his own toes instead of Hina, and who, though once carried on Kyrie's back while drunk, had never been carried by anyone while injured. He then replied:
"He was fond of wagers, skilled with a sword, good at protecting things… and in the end, he wasn't unhappy."
"He sounds like he would have gotten along splendidly with the Siegfrieds."
Suleiman chuckled once more, seemingly quite pleased with the story despite its lack of detail.
The scent of grass was still thick in the small rooftop garden of the Mayor's Mansion. Calian was struck anew by how far this place was from Kairisis, and conversely, how much closer it was to Secritia.
As Calian sat lost in thought, his gaze fixed on his teacup, Suleiman's voice reached him.
"The scent of blood clinging to me is Siona's."
The crisp sound of wine pouring into an empty glass echoed briefly. Emptying the freshly filled glass in an instant, Suleiman spoke again.
"Your Highness. On the day the Young Duchess closed the gates, were those who harmed you the Wolves of the Great Desert?"
"That is correct."
"No matter how strong the warriors of the Great Desert are, I believe there is only one person capable of pushing you to that state."
"…It could only be Siona Hill."
A warrior of the Great Desert. More precisely, a Sword Master who used to be a warrior of the Great Desert.
"Then, by any chance, was the one who attacked you back then…"
"No. The ones who attacked me were other warriors. They belong to an organization called Zeon."
After answering, Calian explained what he knew about Zeon. He watched as the duke's round eyes—which looked remarkably like Yan's—grew thoughtful, then asked:
"Was Siona attacked by them?"
"She came to me on the verge of death, bearing wounds inflicted by Aura. Hearing your explanation makes sense of it now. It must have been the work of that organization."
Nodding as he explained, Suleiman paused briefly before continuing.
"Her pursuers fled before they could enter our territory. Somehow, I managed to keep Siona alive for nearly a month. I stayed by her side the entire time, which is why the scent of blood on me was so strong."
"In that case, is she still here?"
"She vanished yesterday morning. Her body hasn't fully recovered, so I've been searching for her, but she hasn't returned."
This was why Suleiman had told Calian, 'I don't know if I've come to welcome a guest or to see one off.' He wasn't certain whether Siona would return or if she had vanished from this land for good.
"So she's connected to Zeon, but she isn't on their side. And since she was severely injured, it means she isn't being controlled by their power either."
For now, this was somewhat reassuring. What Calian worried about wasn't a Sword Master dying a dog's death, but a Sword Master being used as a pawn.
"If she's being hunted, there's no telling what will happen next. We must continue to track her whereabouts."
"I will handle that, Your Highness."
Surprisingly, Suleiman took the initiative. Finding this unusual, Calian looked at him, and Suleiman offered an awkward smile.
"Though not to the extent of that dull-witted King or the thorn-tongued Mage, she is still an old friend of sorts. I'm concerned, so I'll make some inquiries."
"If you find anything…"
"Yes. I will contact you at the royal palace or the Duke's estate in the capital."
"Thank you. Please be careful as well, Duke. They are not opponents to be taken lightly."
"They're the bastards who nearly took down two of the only three Sword Masters I know. I won't let my guard down."
Calian, Teilan Castrin, and Siona Hill. Those were the three. He didn't even factor Evan and Gray into his count.
This time, Suleiman savored the aroma of the wine for a long while before drinking.
"By the way, I heard the Young Duchess is raising a child without my knowledge, but she refuses to tell me anything about it. It's made me quite curious. Do you happen to know anything, Your Highness?"
Suleiman, who was barred from entering the capital for the rest of the year due to his punishment, asked with a face full of curiosity.
Calian, who had unconsciously been staring at the surrounding grass, shook his head. The story of the Young Duchess of Siegfried taking in a child of Brissen blood was not something to be shared by a third party.
"I believe that is something you should hear directly from the Young Duchess."
"I see."
Once more, the purple hue filled the wine glass.
*
Crackle, crackle.
The sound of the crackling campfire wasn't unpleasant. In fact, it was rather welcome.
Since everyone had volunteered to stand watch on their first night of camping, Calian had threatened to force them all to sleep if they kept insisting. For one, Calian had no trouble staying awake for several days. Besides, since leaving the royal palace and the Siegfried territory, he had been acting more as the strongest member of the group than as a prince.
Remembering Calian's lack of skill with Sleep magic—and the dark bruise on the back of Arsen's neck to prove it—the knights had immediately slipped into their sleeping bags and fallen fast asleep.
As silence settled and Calian quietly watched the red, burning flames, a gentle voice echoed in his mind. It was Alan.
— Have you found where the elves live?
— Not yet. They've likely hidden it, much like the village we visited before. Once we reach the place Sispanian mentioned, I plan to search the area.
— If you cannot find it right away, would it not be better to return first?
— I did hesitate, considering a faction of Zeon might be nearby.
He had pondered it for quite some time—whether to return to the capital or to continue searching for the elves. Had he set out alone, he would have just shrugged and kept going, but he had too much baggage with him. Even if the Valkan members could look after themselves, there was still one fellow—fragile as a papyrus sprout—who couldn't pull his own weight yet.
— But I changed my mind. I decided to finish this quickly and return, as I don't think anyone would dare attack us recklessly. My current companions are far too extraordinary for a blind move.
— True. In terms of being extraordinary, they are likely second to none on the Sistera continent.
A royal force of thirty knights and ten mages. With a quarter of the group being mages, they possessed firepower that could not be underestimated.
— Still, do not let your guard down. This is different from traveling alone, and Prince Franz is with you as well.
— Yes, I understand.
Of course, Calian had already calculated that he was more than capable of preserving the papyrus sprout's thread-thin life.
— Is everything quiet at the palace? Calian asked, covering the glowing bracelet with his sleeve.
He couldn't take off the ring connected to Chase, but wearing a ring on both hands was too uncomfortable. So, Alan wore the ring while Calian wore the bracelet. Calian recalled how long he had laughed upon seeing Alan, who, having decided to stop bothering with modifying the device for palace communication, had simply changed its function on his own.
— His Majesty nearly had a heart attack again, but it's nothing serious.
— Did something happen?
— It's because his two sons vanished overnight once again.
— I heard my brother had already explained our departure.
— …I wonder if that can truly be called an explanation.
The skepticism in Alan's voice was thick.
— He apparently told His Majesty that you seemed poised to run off, so he was just stepping out to bring you back. His Majesty permitted a temporary outing, only to find out he had dragged the entire Valkan with him and trotted off after you. It's only natural His Majesty was shocked.
— A temporary outing… He spoke so confidently, as if he'd received permission, that I wondered what on earth he could have said. So that was it.
— At any rate, I have appeased His Majesty, so do not worry. Just return once you have finished what you need to do.
— Yes. Thank you.
No wonder. He had thought Lemain wouldn't grant permission so easily; it turned out there was a reason.
Calian let out a dry laugh as he looked at Franz, who was sitting a short distance away in a similar posture, staring into the campfire. In this light, Franz was no different from Calian, who had run away in secret.
— Are there any other issues?
— That child, Eila, is sticking to Hina's side and won't leave her for a moment. However, once you return to the palace, Your Highness, you should be prepared to be nagged by the baby elephant for three days and nights.
A clear laugh escaped Calian's lips.
— I understand.
— And the two mages from Libern are doing fine.
Ah.
The smile vanished completely from Calian's face.
Alan always brought up such important and difficult matters so casually.
— …I suppose you received word from Libern.
— The discussion went well, so do not worry.
Calian let out a long sigh as he thought of Elinne, the King of Libern. Alan told him not to worry, but Calian knew all too well how much Alan must be agonizing inside right now.
— I should have been by your side, Master.
It was obvious there was someone else who would come to mind alongside Elinne. He couldn't bring himself to tactlessly call him "Father" at a time like this to offer some clumsy comfort, so Calian settled for simpler words.
— I've come all this way only to stare at a campfire.
— Indeed. I have only one son left, yet instead of comforting me, he causes me endless worry. What am I to do with him?
Alan wouldn't even accept Calian's guilt. He understood Calian even in this situation, letting him know it was fine to offer whatever comfort he wished.
So, Calian sent back a quiet voice.
— I'll buy you some good liquor instead.
— That sounds wonderful. Whether it's Himolica or Sizlinu, just bring me a bottle.
— Let's drink it together when I return… Father.
After a brief silence, Alan's reply came.
— Yes. I will be waiting.
Unable to tell whether it was the campfire or the words that felt warmer, Calian stared down at his bracelet for a long time. He debated whether to buy strong liquor—which tasted different in every region, even if it shared a name—or Siegfried wine. After a moment's deliberation, he decided to just buy both, and a gentle smile graced his crimson eyes.
After exchanging a few more words, Calian ended his conversation with Alan. He watched the bracelet's light slowly fade as the mana dissipated, then turned his gaze back to the campfire.
A peaceful night. The sound of burning wood felt even quieter than the silence itself.
"…Are you not cold?"
"I'm not."
Yes. It was peaceful.
Except for the fact that the Pea wasn't sleeping.
"You should sleep."
"Not yet."
"Alright."
Chuckling softly at the curt response, Calian turned his head. He spoke to the boy sitting a short distance away, who was also staring into the campfire.
"Are you hungry…"
"I'm not."
"Alright."
Unfortunately, the Siegfried Duchy was a place that believed fresh food untouched by magic was the absolute best. Consequently, they hadn't been able to obtain any food preserved with magic. To make matters worse, none of the mages Franz had carefully selected were capable of preservation magic. Thus, Calian had simply obtained some dried food and biscuits from the Mayor of Citren and handed them over, knowing full well that Franz wouldn't be able to stomach wild chicken.
Yet, surprisingly, the boy had eaten.
Not wild chicken, but wild boar, of all things. Of course, it was a boar caught by Calian, who had gone off to hunt alone, leaving the rest of the group behind in his excitement. Although Franz had taken out his biscuits after just two bites, he had at least eaten without scowling.
Sparks flew as the wind blew. Franz, who was likely seeing even this for the first time, watched the red embers scatter and fade into the darkness, his eyes fixed on them endlessly.
"Are you not uncomfortable?"
"I am."
He had grown up so sheltered that sitting on the bare ground was uncomfortable. Lying on it was even more so. Eating poorly seasoned wild boar was uncomfortable, and even the flying insects were a nuisance. Yet, he hadn't let any of it show.
Now that he was at least answering honestly, Calian didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
"Then why didn't you say you were uncomfortable? You didn't say you disliked it, either."
Franz, sitting on a blanket spread over a tree trunk, looked at Calian. The red fire reflecting in his light green eyes didn't suit him at all, Calian thought.
In any case, sitting before a campfire that seemed to draw memories from the recesses of one's mind and burn them away, at least one hidden truth was bound to slip out.
"Because it was useless."
Franz let slip that single truth.
Seeing this person, for whom complaining about discomfort had always been useless, Calian felt his own hidden thoughts threatening to surface. He tore his gaze from the fire in those light green eyes and stared down at his own feet. He buried the question he wanted to ask—Why on earth did someone like you do that to 'me'?—right there at his toes.
No matter how much time passed, it was something that could never be understood. Something no one should ever try to understand. Reminding himself that he, as the current Calian, must never approach that subject, he buried it once more.
"…You can tell me if you're uncomfortable."
In the end, Franz had revealed one truth, while Calian had buried another.
Turning his head again, Calian's eyes caught the dirt-stained jacket. The bastard had relied entirely on his younger brother—the one who used to brush cat hair off him. He'd packed black clothes for Calian but hadn't bothered to bring any spares for himself.
No, he had packed something. He apparently had one more identical, snow-white uniform.
…Does he think my mana grows on trees?
`Clean.`
He cast the magic again—a spell he felt he had already used over thirty times today alone.
"Why don't you say it?"
"Say what?"
"That it's uncomfortable."
Why didn't he complain about the discomfort of casting the same spell over thirty times a day? Why didn't he ask why Franz had gone out of his way to make these white clothes, creating such unnecessary trouble?
"Because I think I know. Why it had to be white."
Why the robes of the Valkan mages—first designed by Lemain and perfected by Franz—and the uniforms of the knight order Franz himself had created all had to be white. Mages could always keep themselves clean, but why had he insisted on white for the knights' attire as well?
"I try to bury things, while you try to remember. I think that's why."
The lives of others that would stain those clothes.
"…Informal speech."
"I think that's why."
Franz did not say whether he was right or wrong.
"Go to sleep."
"I don't want to."
"Why not?"
"It's uncomfortable."
"Are you reviewing your vocabulary?"
Crackle, crackle.
The campfire blazed.
"But could you perhaps change the color? Even if it's not white, stains will still show."
"Why bother?"
"Because when we travel together, I'm the only one in black. It's a bit embarrassing."
"Informal speech."
Calian didn't correct himself this time and simply grinned. If he opened his mouth, he felt he would say, 'Do you know you look exactly like a green onion, all white with that green hair of yours?' He was afraid that if he said that, Franz might refuse to eat anything with green onions in it from now on.
"Anyway, you really must sleep now…"
His words, spoken with a grin, came to an abrupt halt.
Whoosh!
His eyes turned chillingly sharp in an instant. Calian swiftly rose to his feet and spun around.
Crackle, crackle.
A peaceful night, with the campfire they had lit without a care for being seen, blazing away.
Chime.
Unconcerned with being noticed, the shadow of someone, heralded by a soft chime, slowly approached.
The Valkan members, who were already on their feet. Franz. And the guest.
Standing between them, Calian's eyes grew cold.
The Sword Master who had been the Wolf of the Great Desert.
A small bell hanging from the pommel of her sword chimed softly.
“……Siona Hill.”
A small silver ring at the tip of her long, pointed ear glinted in the firelight.