The Tower of Light – Part 4
Three hours had passed since they left Valua and rode north. The road twisted and turned endlessly. One moment they would be climbing a slope wrapped in thick vegetation, and the next they would be descending just as suddenly, only to face another uphill stretch soon after. The well-maintained highways between cities made riding at speed relatively comfortable, but sitting atop a galloping horse for hours on end was exhausting. Cloud’s back ached and his backside throbbed.
Sylvia, who had been talkative at the start, gradually fell silent until she now rode without saying a word. Her body was clearly hurting too. At this rate they would both fall ill before they even found the snow ice flower, so Cloud decided it was time for a short break.
“Whoa, easy.” He tugged the reins of the horse trotting along the tree-lined path and brought it to a gentle stop at the roadside.
“Let’s rest and warm ourselves by a fire for a bit.”
The moment the horse stopped, Cloud swung one leg over its neck and hopped down lightly. Sylvia, wincing from the pain in her waist, gave her side a few light punches as she dismounted, then pushed back the hood that had been stifling her.
“I’ll go over there and take a piss.”
Cloud strode off into the dark forest.
“Take your sword. It’s dangerous to enter the woods alone at night unarmed.”
Sylvia reached for the blade hanging from the saddle, but he didn’t even glance back. He simply waved a hand in a ‘no need’ gesture and vanished into the trees. Sylvia stared at his retreating figure with a distinctly displeased expression.
“Idiot.”
When Cloud returned after relieving himself, Sylvia had gathered fallen leaves and branches into a pile and was struggling to light a campfire. She crouched there, striking a flint-like stone again and again, but not a single spark caught. Frustration creased her brow deeper by the second.
“Hang on, I’ll get it going.”
Cloud, who had been watching quietly, sprang into action. He circled the area collecting dry twigs, then sat down beside her. With his knife he carved a small hole in a thick branch, stuffed it with crumpled dry leaves, and rubbed a thin stick rapidly against it. He clasped the stick between his palms and spun it with all his strength, praying for smoke.
Rub, rub, rub.
At last, a flame caught.
“Well done, Cloud!” Sylvia flashed a bright smile, white teeth gleaming.
“See that?” He carefully blew on the tiny ember to keep it alive and transferred it to the pile of branches. Soon a crackling campfire blazed, pushing back the darkness.
Sylvia had been watching the flames with open delight when her expression suddenly cooled. In a sour voice she muttered, “Hmph. You have all sorts of useless talents, don’t you?”
“A guy with nothing has to pick up even these trivial tricks if he wants to be loved anywhere.”
Cloud rose, moved to the opposite side of the fire, and lay down on his side, pillowing his head on one arm.
“I should’ve asked Sophia for something before we left. I’m starving. Haam.” He let out a long, lazy yawn.
“Aren’t you tired? It’s almost dawn. Can you keep going?”
“I’m still fine.”
“Knights really do have monstrous stamina. All that training pays off.”
Memories of her days at the knight academy flickered through Sylvia’s mind—the weekly all-night drills, the forced marches every two months, the hellish week-long hunger trials held twice a year. She clearly hated remembering those times; she hugged her knees tighter and curled into herself even more.
“Was that when you killed the cyclops?” Cloud asked in a drowsy, idle tone.
Sylvia shook her head.
“I didn’t. The moment I realized you had disappeared, I ran too.”
She had answered without thinking, but the realization made her angry. Her peaceful gaze on the campfire sharpened into a glare aimed at the man lounging across from her.
“Abandoning someone and running away—you’re the worst! Coward! Wimp! Gutless bastard! Don’t you dare call yourself a man anywhere!”
Cloud let out a small sigh.
“Not everyone is as pure as you. To survive, people can become ugly. They can become cowards. Even the priests in the temples are the same. They can fall to lust and be stained by evil.”
“So if we run into danger again this time, you’re planning to abandon me and run?” Sylvia snapped.
Her fury was justified, so Cloud answered with as much sincerity as he could muster.
“The situation is completely different now, so that won’t happen. Back then you were trying to kill me. This time we’re working together, so the circumstances have changed. I’ll do everything I can to keep both of us alive.”
“Everything you can?”
“I will. No matter what.”
“Idiot.”
Sylvia looked away, her angry stare softening. A brief silence fell between them.
“What do your parents do for a living?” she asked suddenly.
Cloud, who had been drifting into a light doze, answered with his eyes still closed, voice heavy with fatigue.
“My father is a shepherd.”
“A shepherd… so what you told me before wasn’t a lie after all?”
“Of course it wasn’t.”
Cloud answered as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. When they had first met, he had told her about his father’s occupation to earn her trust.
“Then the part about having a pregnant wife back in your hometown—was that true too?”
“That was a lie. I’m single.”
“You rotten bastard.”
She shot him a disapproving look, but strangely her frown melted away almost immediately, replaced by an expression of faint relief.
“Is your mother with your father in your hometown?”
“My mother died shortly after I was born.”
“So your father raised you by himself?”
“No. Even when I was little, my father was rarely home. I was always left with the neighbor lady next door. She’s the one who raised me.”
Cloud spoke casually, but Sylvia regretted bringing up what was clearly a sensitive subject. She stopped asking about his family and changed the topic.
“One of the soldiers we met at the eastern gate earlier seemed very friendly with you. What’s your relationship with him?”
Cloud let out a soft chuckle.
“Maybe that old man’s after my ass?”
“Drop dead.”
“Why are you asking so many questions anyway? Aren’t you tired? This feels like an interrogation. Why are you digging into my personal life?”
“When I ask you something, just answer!”
Cloud had struck a nerve; embarrassed, Sylvia lashed out in irritation.
“I have the right to ask you anything! And you have the duty to answer everything!”
“We need to conserve our strength. Yelling like that will just make you hungry faster.”
“Ah!”
She had been fuming, but suddenly clapped her hands together. She jumped to her feet and began rummaging through something with a rustling sound. Curious, Cloud opened his eyes and saw Sylvia untying a brown sack beside the campfire. It definitely hadn’t been there when they left the city.
“What’s that?”
“I forgot while we were talking, but it just came back to me. Earlier, when I went to gather branches for the fire, I came back and found this lying there.”
Sylvia loosened the cord and opened the sack. She peered inside without hesitation, reached in, and pulled out a lush bunch of grapes that looked as fresh as if they had been picked moments ago.
“Whoa!”
The sight of food made Cloud leap to his feet.
“Do we actually have a guardian angel watching over us?”
“It certainly feels that way.”
When they left the city they had gained horses and weapons; now food had appeared out of nowhere. It was baffling, yet strangely wonderful.
“You try them first.”
Sylvia held the grapes out to him.
“You want me to test them for poison?”
Having someone else taste food before eating it herself was probably just a noble’s ingrained habit. Cloud deliberately spoke in a mischievous tone.
“These grapes might be enchanted with erotic magic. The second you eat one you could turn into a pervert and jump me. Are you sure it’s okay for me to eat them first?”
“You’re already a pervert, so it’s fine.”
“Thanks.”
He accepted the blunt assessment with a shrug, plucked a grape, and popped it into his mouth. After a moment he raised his thumb.
“It’s seriously good. Perfectly ripe.”
“R-really?”
Sylvia’s eyes sparkled as she swallowed hard. Cloud plucked another grape and offered it to her.
“Try it. Sweet and delicious. Doesn’t seem poisoned.”
She took the grape between her fingers and slipped it into her mouth.
“Good, right?”
When Cloud asked, she chewed slowly, savoring the flavor, then nodded.
“It is.”
“Tastes like ripe breasts, doesn’t it?”
“It absolutely does not.”
And so, sitting across from each other with the campfire between them, they filled their empty stomachs with the grapes.
“How much farther to the Tower of Light?”
“Another two hours of riding should get us there.”
Sylvia knew the route well. She seemed so familiar with the road linking Valua and Valentino territories that she didn’t even need to consult a map. The Tower of Light left behind by Hero Ophelia had become a regional landmark—featured in books, adapted into plays, and widely known—so there was no way a local like her wouldn’t know exactly where it stood.
“What if the heretics turn hostile? What will you do?” Sylvia asked, a trace of anxiety on her face.
“If it’s a cult made up entirely of women, I’m confident I can handle every last one of them by myself. With the sword I’ve got right here.”
Cloud, lying contentedly with a full belly, pointed at his own lower body.
“Idiot.”
Sylvia turned her head away from his crude gesture. Then, remembering something from their past, her cheeks flushed bright red.
“That’s not a sword… it’s a snake…”
Suddenly, from deep within the forest came the cry of some unknown beast. The relaxed expressions of the two travelers hardened instantly. Cloud sat up in a hurry.
“Running into a monster would be a pain, so let’s get moving.”
Sylvia watched quietly as he brushed off his backside and stood, then said, “So you do feel tension after all.”
“I’m only human. Of course I do.”
“After seeing you fearlessly assault a noble’s daughter, I thought you’d left not only your courage but your heart at home as well.”
“Cough, cough!”
The unexpected verbal dagger made Cloud’s chest tighten; he burst into a fit of coughing. She definitely had a talent for sharp-tongued remarks.
In any case, the pair extinguished the campfire, gathered their things, and mounted their horses once more. The Tower of Light was now only two hours away. In the eastern sky the round sun was slowly rising, brightly lighting their path, and the horses—well rested—galloped forward with renewed energy.