Chapter 345: A Dream, If Possible (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 345: A Dream, If Possible (2)
Raven did, in fact, eat weeds.
Granted, it came with the picky condition that they be hand-fed by the Third Prince of Kairis, but he ate them nonetheless.
Unlike Estina, who would wander off and graze on her own, Raven wouldn’t refuse a meal offered from Calian’s hand. They had reached that level of compromise during their trip to the elven city last year. Of course, the compromise had been entirely on Raven’s part.
“You’re eating well, Raven. Good boy.”
Calian stroked Raven, who was being exceptionally well-behaved, eating not only the weeds offered but also the salad Yan had prepared—a “devotion-filled salad packed with fresh vegetables for our Prince’s health.”
Calian smiled, satisfied. He had passed Yan's salad to his horse under a plausible pretext: half an excuse that his stomach had no room for greens after the four servings of grilled pork Arsen had plied him with that morning, and half a justification that Raven deserved a treat too. He wrapped both arms around Raven’s large, pitch-black head for a tight hug before mounting the saddle.
He probably didn’t know that Franz—who had been served the exact same salad for his own breakfast—was staring at them with a complicated expression. Probably.
“Let’s go.”
Franz, who had just eaten the same meal as a horse, mounted his own steed. Arsen, who had failed to stifle his laughter at the sight and let out a bizarre snort, did the same. They set off toward the elf village Alan had told them was located northwest of Bridget Forest.
“Raven, what you ate earlier was a wild strawberry. That over there is something else. Don’t eat it, or you’ll get an upset stomach.”
Hearing Calian’s words, Franz briefly closed his eyes. He was trying to shake off the growing suspicion that his younger brother viewed him and his horse as the same species.
“Brother.”
“What.”
“Did something upset you? Your expression has been sour for a while.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Liar.”
Calian was remarkably good at reading Franz’s usually impassive face. It would have been even better if he could figure out the cause, but apparently, he wasn’t quite that perceptive.
But what could Franz do? As the older brother, he couldn’t bring himself to look petty in front of his younger brother. He had no choice but to hold it in, glaring at the blue-haired mad mage who was still snickering about the salad.
“…Sigh.”
It was a truly peaceful morning.
“If it’s because of the dream you had…”
No, it’s not.
It’s not because of the dream. It’s because of the food you fed that magnificent horse—the exact same food you fed me, you brat.
Since he couldn’t possibly say that out loud…
“…Please tell me what kind of dream you had,” Calian pressed.
“No.”
Franz simply refused.
Whether he had imagined things because of Chase’s hair color, hallucinated because of Sinasta’s, or finally seen the answer to his questions thanks to the Mother Tree—
He knew that if he told Calian about seeing a color other than black and red, he could confirm whether it was a real dream or not. But he didn’t say a word.
“It wasn’t a bad dream.”
“Then that’s a relief. But please make sure to tell me if anything strange happens.”
“I get it, so drop it.”
“Yes.”
He just couldn’t bring himself to ask.
* * *
The elf village.
Alan had been permitted to enter. However, Adelia and Serjein were not only uninvited but also expelled.
“There are cases where elves also possess the ability to transcend time,” Calian began. “Among the elves I know, there was a child who didn’t have precognition, but whose way of speaking was peculiar. I seem to be somewhat influenced by my mother as well. It’s not something as grand as precognition—intuition is probably a better word for it. But compared to the ‘past,’ my vague premonitions have certainly started coming true more often.”
They had reached the coordinates Alan had given them: the entrance to the elf village. Until that point, the Mother Tree had not obstructed them in any way.
“Naturally, the Mother Tree possesses the same ability,” Calian continued. “It seems she perceives things beyond time, more extensively and accurately. When a being like that allowed Master into the village, could she have been unaware of the fight that would break out between the two archmages?”
“She must have known,” Arsen said.
“I think so too. In fact, even without looking into the future, anyone could have predicted a fight if two mages radiating such ominous energy entered an empty village. Yet, the Mother Tree did not stop Master from entering.”
The previous day, the Margrave had visited Arsen and informed him that they had secured Serjein. He also mentioned that Serjein appeared to have been expelled from the forest.
Yet, even knowing the village would be destroyed, the Mother Tree had not expelled Alan.
“Could it be that she lacked the power to expel Commander Manasil?” Franz asked. “Didn’t you say that the fight was stopped not by the Mother Tree herself, but with Lady Sispanian’s help?”
“And yet,” Calian countered, “there has never been any earthquake damage in Kairis.”
“Yes. I agree with Sir Hertz, and what you said also seems correct, Brother,” Arsen added. “Since an earthquake has never once occurred in Kairis, I doubt the Mother Tree is so powerless that she couldn't have blocked Master’s visit.”
It wasn’t that the Mother Tree was weaker than Alan. However…
“I wondered if there was simply no reason to stop Master,” Calian mused, “but since Sispanian had to turn back time to stop the fight, it’s hard to say there was no reason. In that case…”
“Because it’s Secritia,” Franz stated.
“Yes. Because it’s Secritia, perhaps she couldn’t directly block Master’s visit and had to borrow Sispanian’s power to stop the fight and restore everything. That’s what I’m thinking.”
“Are you saying there is an influence from Serenti, Prince?” Arsen asked.
“It is said that Serenti and Sispanian did not have a bad relationship, and Sispanian is still carrying out Serenti’s role even now. However, the name Danu does not appear anywhere in the War of the Two Gods. Even though Danu, just like Sispanian, was a creation made directly by Serenti.”
Calian added, “And this land—though I no longer believe in it, of course—is known as a place where Serenti’s blessing is bestowed.”
Recalling Serenti’s Time, when blue light fell like snow, Arsen nodded.
“I remember. It is a phenomenon that occurs throughout Secritia. I heard it no longer appears in Tensil’s territory after Tensil gained independence.”
“Exactly. Looking at it that way, even if Serenti is asleep, her power still reaches this place. So I wondered if Danu might not be able to use her full power in Secritia, especially if the relationship between her and Serenti wasn’t very good.”
“Then are you saying that was also the reason she didn’t open the path for the elves here?” Franz asked.
Calian replied, his brow furrowing slightly. “Well, when Devlan was threatening this forest, Danu did not allow the elves living here to escape through the forest path. Because of that, I ended up meeting their elder.”
“It opened after that, though.”
“Yes. It probably opened around the time Dame Seiren and Dame Grace fought in this forest. She had promised me she would do so.”
“Right.”
“As I said back then, I had a feeling Danu didn’t open the path because she wanted to draw me here. After all, the events in this forest were the trigger that brought me here in person. It would make more sense if she simply couldn’t open the path, but I can’t shake the feeling that Danu blocked the elves’ escape specifically to summon me.”
It was a vague feeling, one he couldn’t fully explain even to himself. Unable to put it into words, Calian gave an embarrassed smile.
“Strange, isn’t it?”
“Not really,” Franz said.
“It’s not strange,” Arsen agreed.
Coming from someone who had experienced far stranger things, the claim hardly registered.
In any case, there was the possibility that the Mother Tree could not exert her full power in Secritia, and the possibility that she had blocked the forest path with the intention of drawing Calian here. Keeping both in mind, Calian spoke in a quiet voice.
“There must be a reason. We’ll find out once we go in.”
Looking at Franz, whose face showed not a shred of tension, and Arsen, who looked more relaxed than ever, Calian let out a small sigh.
“I don’t know if we’ll actually meet the Mother Tree, or if I’ll regain my memories even if we do. But there’s always a chance. Danu and Sispanian are not human. Their consideration and understanding differ from our own. So perhaps…”
“He’s saying we might see something we shouldn’t and get shocked,” Franz cut in, speaking to Arsen. He then turned to Calian. “You don’t have to keep saying it. I already know.”
“Uh… this is the first I’m hearing of it, Crown Prince,” Arsen said, looking between them.
“You said you were fine,” Franz reminded him.
“Yes. I’m not saying I’m not fine, but…”
“Then that’s enough.”
Franz knew that a hundred warnings were useless against a single firsthand experience. As if telling Calian not to waste any more time, he gestured with his chin.
“Go.”
“Yes,” Calian replied with a sigh.
A moment later, Raven took a step forward.
And the world changed.
* * *
A desolate hill.
Danu’s domain, which gazed across time and twisted space at will.
The moment they stepped inside, the landscape transformed completely. One second they were in a dense forest, the next they were somewhere else entirely.
There lay the small village that was said to have fully recovered its original appearance thanks to Sispanian’s touch. In the distance, sheer cliffs were visible, along with clouds that seemed caught halfway up, unable to scale the high precipice.
Whoosh!
Feeling the sharp wind, Calian narrowed his eyes and turned around. Franz, who had followed him into the village, instantly tensed. Arsen, the last to appear, widened his eyes in surprise.
“This place is…”
“Sir Hertz. Do you have a cloak?”
Arsen, already rummaging through his pocket, nodded. He pulled out a dark blue cloak and handed it to Franz. It was certainly not for Calian.
“Please put it on. It has warming magic cast on it.”
Franz, whose fingertips had already turned a pale blue, wrapped the cloak tightly around himself. Calian looked away from him and leaped down from his saddle.
“Raven. Go wait outside.”
He sent Raven back across the boundary, into Bridget Forest. Seeing this, Franz and Arsen did the same with their own mounts. Arsen could cast warming magic on himself, Franz had the enchanted cloak, and Calian didn’t feel the cold, but the horses were another matter. They wouldn’t last ten minutes in this brutal chill.
After checking that the other two were alright, Calian turned to examine the village more closely.
“It was a clear day before we entered,” Arsen said, his voice laced with disbelief. “To think a blizzard is raging the moment we step inside… I can’t believe it even as I see it.”
He was right. The sky had been clear just moments before. One step, and now a blizzard was howling around them.
Snow had piled to an unknowable depth, and the village on the hill was completely white. Everything that could freeze had frozen—the trees, the dry grass, and even flowers buried deep inside transparent ice.
“Prince, is there a place like this in northern Secritia?”
“No, there isn’t.”
Not in Secritia, nor in Libern to the south. And certainly not in Kairis, where spring had already arrived, nor in Tensil, which lay north of Kairis but was not nearly cold enough for a landscape like this.
Therefore, this place was…
“…The Great Desert.”
It was the Great Desert.
Not the southern Great Desert where wolves roamed and sand stretched to the horizon, but the northern Great Desert, where snow fell year-round and a bone-chilling cold cut through the flesh without a moment’s rest. It was that very place.
Just as a portal had once connected the ownerless sea to the south of Kairis, one had now connected the Great Desert to a forest in the middle of Secritia.
“Master didn’t mention anything like this,” Franz muttered. Though the cloak protected him from the freezing temperature, he could still feel the bite of the wind. He narrowed his eyes and looked down at his feet.
“They moved the terrain,” Calian replied.
“Yes. It seems so,” Arsen agreed.
Beneath the thick ice they stood on, a single purple flower was perfectly preserved, its color unfaded. It was a Minethias, the same flower that had once filled the Vice-Commander’s office in the Wilhelm Pavilion with its pleasant fragrance. It grew in northern Secritia and central Kairis.
While Arsen cast a massive shield to block the wind, Calian spoke, his eyes as sharp as the howling gale. His voice was slightly louder than usual, carrying over the storm.
“Did they move the village to a place untouched by Serenti’s power because the elves no longer live here?”
“We’ll know once we get there,” Franz said. His quiet reply was as terse as ever; he knew Calian could hear him perfectly well, and he saw no reason for the blue-haired mad mage to.
Soon, a swordsman, a mage, and one other—whose occupation was as complicated as his personality—set off. It was a stroke of luck that Arsen had frozen the waist-deep snow solid, making it easier to walk, and that the village was not very large.
“How are you going to find the Mother Tree here?” Arsen’s voice echoed with a low rumble from inside the thick sphere of ice he had created.
“Just a moment.”
Looking around, Calian walked toward a specific spot, offering no answer to Arsen’s question.
Walking behind him, Arsen’s eyes widened. Franz paused, a flicker of understanding on his face. He knew what Calian had seen.
A dark green roof. Stone walls. A thick wooden door.
Unfamiliar names were carved into a large white stone above the door.
—Terun, Orseia, Retes—
—Whitrin—
And at the very end, a familiar word.
The surname of Queen Freya Whitrin.
Since elves did not traditionally use surnames, Whitrin had to be a given name—the name of someone so important that Freya had adopted it as her own when she entered the Kairis Royal Palace.
“…Please wait here a moment. I’ll be right back.”
Franz merely nodded.
Step by step, Calian walked toward the house where no one lived anymore. He stood before the door and slowly reached out.
Creaak.
A groan, as unfamiliar as the names carved on the stone, echoed briefly.
A deep darkness lay within.
Into that darkness, Calian stepped.