A Goodbye for Goodbye's Sake (1)

The border is a place where reality-bending absurdities happen on a daily basis — the kind of things that would turn common sense completely on its head.

For example, there was the senile old elf who strolled into the immigration office and declared, "This is my ancestors' land, so you ask my permission before screening me."

Or the insectoid species that arrived in a swarming mass, announced "We are a hive mind," and handed over exactly one single document.

Or else...

"Hey, you."

...there were also those who threw casual banmal at me — the Chief Supervisor of the Southern Border, the Head of the Immigration Office, a man charged with the sacred duty of protecting a dragon, a princess, and a saintess, all three at once.

Granted, this happened often enough. There was never any shortage of people who figured that being older than me entitled them to talk down to me.

No matter how prominently the nameplate reading [Central Officer] stood on my desk, such characters would inevitably turn up again every few weeks, like clockwork.

And to such people, there was exactly one thing I could offer in return.

"Central Officer Nathan Kell."

All I could do was press my forehead to the floor of the conference room and recite my rank and name.

Why, you ask?

"I trust you are well aware of what you've done."

"I am fully aware, Minister!"

Because the person addressing me so disrespectfully right now was none other than our Minister of Foreign Affairs.

"You wretched little... I told you to protect a temporary asylum seeker, and you just up and shouted 'Here she is!' for the whole world to hear? And as if that weren't enough, you let her put on a four-hour performance?!"

He was so furious his voice cracked at the seams — he even hurled his cough medicine through the crystal ball at my head.

"Why didn't you go ahead and charge the audience a seating fee and collect taxes while you were at it, huh?!"

"Ah, no, that is to say—"

"Did I ask you to talk back?"

"My apologies!"

"Is sorry all you've got?"

"No, sir!"

"Then explain yourself. Why did you do it?"

"Well, you see—"

"Did I ask you to talk back?"

"..."

"Eh? Nothing to say?"

The treadmill of scolding.

Come to think of it, he was Intelligence Department, wasn't he? No wonder he'd refined the art of wringing a man dry to such perfection.

I'd already spent twenty solid minutes grinding my forehead into the wooden floor, and I was starting to fear for my life.

Just then, at long last, a word arrived to close the wheel of torment.

"You, who used to sing the praises of principle — you kept every last trivial rule, and then suddenly threw them out over something this enormous. Explain that, if you can."

I raised my head by stealthy degrees and spoke in a voice barely above a crawl.

"The pilgrimage arrived in the first place because they already knew Erzena's location, so—"

"Did I say you could lift your head? Face. Down."

"Face down, sir!"

My forehead met the earth once more.

So he's still not done being angry, I see.

The Bald Demon King — no, forgive me, the Minister — let his gaze drift upward.

"Five Senses Officers."

The four subordinates who had been standing at rigid attention behind me like decorative folding screens shouted in perfect unison.

"Olfactory Officer, Blaszek Winterfang!"

"Hearing Officer, Sen!"

"Tactile Officer, Lacrissa Glynnafin!"

"G-G-Gustatory Officer, Sita Rahimu!"

"You four. Face down as well."

The quartet dropped to the floor beside me with the speed of lightning.

"And you lot — when your superior was making an absolute spectacle of himself, you were supposed to stop him, you imbeciles!!!"

The roar of his wrath thundered through the room yet again.

Well, it seems our Minister's illness has improved considerably. He's yelling loud enough to rattle the windows and hasn't coughed once.

"I retire soon, you know. Are you trying to get me killed in the line of duty before then? What, do you get a rank promotion if I die?"

"""No, sir!"""

"Or is it that you brats just didn't... agh."

He gave up mid-sentence, slumping back into his chair with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Normally, this would be grounds for disciplinary action. You understand that? If it weren't for the direct command of Her Majesty the Queen, not even I could have covered for you."

At the sudden invocation of the highest authority in the land, my head snapped up.

"H-His— Her Majesty, you say?"

"I was just summoned before her. And you'll be summoned soon yourself, so consider this your notice."

Oh, dear.

The color drained from my face entirely.

And beside him stood another person whose eyes had sharpened with killing intent of an entirely different flavor.

"Dear. Stand up for a moment, won't you."

"Central— Central Officer Nathan Kell."

The Director of the Intelligence Department — the very woman whose department had long extended such generous accommodations to our Southern Border.

Rubbing my bruised, scarlet forehead as I rose from the floor, she flicked her long tongue with a soft hiss.

A distinctly lamia gesture — the kind they make when they're angry.

"I trust you're well aware of what consequences — no, what consequences — your actions today have brought about."

Her words were soft, but her voice was colder than frost on a midwinter night.

There was nothing left of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her usual self — the cunning, bewitching merchant of secrets I knew so well.

Only a woman gaunt beyond even a serpent's standards, hollowed out by one all-nighter after another.

"The pilgrimage's visit alone was already a crisis of the highest order. And then the Second Holy Knight Order joins in on top of it. Half a year of southern contingency planning from our department — all of it, gone. Evaporated. Thanks to you and Miss Erzena, of course."

Why do I feel so many barbs in that?

At Melanie's brisk summary of the situation, my eyes drifted toward the window.

Even now, long after the performance had ended, the crowd's fervor had not cooled in the slightest — their cries rang out over the walls.

And woven seamlessly among them, as if they had always been one body, stood the First and Second Holy Knight Orders side by side.

Dragonewts were streaming in, drawn by the ripples of the Dragon Word. Then came the pilgrims, and then the onlookers and merchants who had naturally gathered for the sudden, lavish spectacle of divine power.

As if we weren't already nearly dying from processing immigrants at maximum capacity today.

No matter how relentlessly the holy power radiating from that stage restored my body, my mental fatigue had long since smashed through the ceiling.

The Minister opened his mouth once more.

"Let's grant you a hundred concessions and say you had no choice. Do you understand what happens now?"

"I do."

"When Miss Erzena applied for temporary asylum, she made a vow. Do you remember it?"

He drew a single sheet of paper from his desk drawer and held it up for me to see.

The very document Erzena had filled out in the Minister's office just one month ago.

"Tell me — what was the first oath she swore?"

I answered without hesitation.

"...The asylum seeker shall take no political action of any kind. Contact with political organizations, factions, and movements is prohibited, and violation of this clause shall result in deportation."

"Exactly. And the pilgrims are hardly a mere band of refugees, are they?"

The Minister pressed a hand to his forehead and let out a heavy sigh.

"They're the anti-Pope faction. Worse — outright rebels, who fought a pitched battle directly in front of the Papal Court."

"..."

"I cannot keep protecting Miss Erzena through this, Central Officer. The Order will lodge an official protest — that much is certain."

Asylum is a procedure granted only to those a nation deems worth protecting — and, at the same time, only ever for the strict sake of preserving a life.

Erzena had broken that covenant. Just as I had broken my own principle.

If we chose to shelter an oathbreaker, the Crossline Kingdom would very likely be seen as endorsing one particular faction over another.

And once that perception took root, this nation's claim to have no stake in any political, economic, religious, or racial conflict would never hold water again.

"Neutrality must be preserved."

Neutrality must be preserved.

"Revoke her temporary asylum status. I'll grant you two days of grace."

The words were brief, but their weight was crushing.

It meant Erzena could no longer stay here.

I hesitated for a long moment before I finally opened my mouth.

"...Yes, sir."

Two days.

The hour of parting had arrived sooner than I'd imagined — sudden and unyielding.

Even after the four-hour, nonstop performance had ended, Erzena was still standing atop the castle wall, gazing down at the pilgrims with an expression I couldn't begin to read.

"So this is where you were."

At the sound of my deliberately raised voice, Erzena's head whipped around.

"...Nathan."

"Erzena."

An awkward greeting, exchanged between the two of us.

We stood side by side, a couple of steps apart, and looked down at the base of the wall together.

"..."

"..."

Silence.

For a long while, neither of us said a word.

Until the crowd below, chanting her name in frenzied chorus, slowly began to fall quiet and drift apart.

Until the sun sank slowly beneath the horizon.

I knew what I had to say.

I simply... didn't know how to open my mouth and say it.

She was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠surely in the same position.

"Why did you do it?"

I spoke first.

"There was no need for you to step forward. You had no obligation, no duty to do so. You're not the Saintess anymore."

"That's a fair question, isn't it. Why did I do that?"

Erzena shrugged and rested her chin in her hand.

"Then you tell me — why did you tell Mohaim that I was here?"

That gave me pause.

"...Because I saw something of myself in the Knight Commander's eyes. The look of someone from long ago who lost something precious — and swore he would never lose anything again."

That man, once so proud and so unshakable, had knelt before me and wept, begging for the chance to right his own wrongs.

As I recalled that Mohaim and gave a bitter smile, Erzena narrowed her eyes.

"So it moved you enough to break your principles, did it?"

"Honestly, I regret it a little. You knew you were here — I mean, obviously, you knew. Telling him seems to have accomplished nothing but a thorough scolding from the Minister."

"Aren't you being a bit too honest with me?"

She burst out laughing.

Then, her gaze falling back down to the crowd below, she said:

"In two months, I was bound to face this outcome anyway. I'm a temporary asylum seeker. So really... it just came one month early, that's all."

"Is that all there is to it? You stepped forward simply because what was coming was going to come?"

"I suppose you could see it that way."

Erzena tossed the words out lightly, as though it were nothing of consequence.

But a moment later, she hesitated, and went on.

"I... I thought that as long as I remained a temporary asylum seeker, nothing would ever change."

"..."

"There are things I can do — things I must do. And if I turned my back on them just to stay by your side, I knew I could never be happy. Not truly."

She turned her gaze to me.

"Responsibility is a terrifying thing, you know. I want to throw it all away and receive nothing but your love — but I know I could never hold my head high if I did. I know that you couldn't love a woman like that... that I myself couldn't love a woman like that..."

Erzena confessed it plainly, without ceremony.

"That's why I decided to leave — in order to stay by your side. Because I love you, and I want to be with you."

In her hands she held my battered old guitar.

"...I see. So this wasn't a rash impulse."

I murmured it as if accepting the fact.

Yes.

That was enough.

If she did this deliberately, then I have no reason to drag this out any longer.

I had to harden my heart.

Fate be damned. Circumstances be damned. Whatever she felt — it didn't matter.

The border allows no exceptions.

I straightened my posture.

And then I spoke, in a voice grave and formal.

"Temporary asylum seeker Erzena Selaphe. At the time of your application, you swore an oath to refrain from all political action."

My words rang out cold and clinical.

Erzena looked at me in silence.

"That oath has been violated. Accordingly, the Crossline Kingdom judges that it no longer bears any obligation to protect you. You are hereby..."

My voice caught.

My throat was beginning to ache. Just a little. Just a little.

"You are hereby... deported. This ruling cannot be revoked, and it takes effect the moment this announcement ends. Therefore, by the authority of the Central Officer, custodian of this asylum..."

"Nathan."

I ignored her voice calling my name and pressed on, resolute.

"The temporary asylum status of Erzena Selaphe is revoked."

And yet Erzena was staring at me with wide, startled eyes.

"Why... why are you crying?"

"I'm sorry?"

It was I who was more startled, and I asked her back.

But then I felt something sliding down my cheek, and my throat sealed itself shut.

This was the natural course of things.

I had done wrong as well — but she, too, had broken her oath, and it was only right that she bear the punishment for it.

There was no reason left for me to protect her. Not a single one.

There shouldn't have been.

So why did it hurt this much?

"I shall... continue with the announcement."

I wiped the tears away as best I could, clenched my teeth, and spoke again.

"You are granted two days... two days' time..."

Pathetic.

The border is a line drawn upon the earth.

A place where one world meets another — and, at the very same time, the place that divides the two.

Our first meeting happened here, so it was only natural that our parting should happen here as well.

Hadn't I welcomed and sent off countless people at this very desk?

"As a period of grace... during this time, you are to..."

We would meet again. Of course we would.

Who in this world could ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stop a woman whose holy power could heal even dragons?

She wasn't marching off to die.

This wasn't some bond lost forever.

It was only a brief, unavoidable separation — that was all.

"...settle the connections you have made here."

Then why did my heart feel like it was being torn apart?

Why was my vision blurring so badly that I couldn't even look at the woman in front of me?

The same ache I'd felt when I lost Rene.

That ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠old agony was gnawing at me all over again.

"I advise you to... spend the time you have left... with those dear to you."

The proclamation was over.

An invisible hourglass of forty-eight hours had begun to run.

Erzena, watching me sniffle pathetically over and over, gave a small smile.

"...I'm already doing exactly that."

And her own eyes, too, glistened with moisture.

"I'm spending it with someone precious, right now, aren't I?"

In that instant, someone's words flashed through my mind.

"And that, my son, is what the world calls love."

My mother's voice.

Ah.

There was no hiding it anymore.

I loved this woman.

Erzena — at some point, without ever noticing, I had fallen in love with her.

And so, before I could stop myself, I opened my mouth.

"I love you."

"!!!!"

There was no concealing it any longer.

The feelings I had held down came flooding out.

Everything I had spent the past month pretending not to feel — every emotion I had barricaded behind reason and duty — surged up all at once.

"I don't want... I don't want to lose you, Erzena."

I stepped across the line drawn inside my heart.

"So promise me. Just one thing."

I took a step toward her.

"Promise me... that you'll come back."

Another step.

Close enough that our breath mingled.

Close enough to see the fresh tears shining at the corners of her eyes.

Close enough to see my own wretched face reflected in them.

I don't want to lose you.

So promise me you'll come back.

To me, waiting in this place that never changes.

To me, who went and made another precious person — who, in the end, fell in love with you.

"I promise, Nathan."

Erzena whispered it, so softly that only I could hear.

"I will come back. I swear it — I will come back."

Her slender hand cupped my cheek.

Her golden holy power wrapped around me like warmth itself.

She closed her eyes.

I pulled her waist into my arms, and kissed her.

When this moment ended — when those two days passed — all that would remain was a long, long emptiness.

But this had to be right.

If I wanted to smile again, I had to weep now.

That cursed border of ours had always been that way.

And so I pulled her closer, deeper still.

Foolishly wishing, against all hope, that this single moment might stretch on forever.

Her warmth. Her scent. Her tears. Her smile.

I carved every last one of them into my memory.