The Nameless Prince and the Ashes of Despair
The Nameless Prince. When the windmills, houses, and barns were all reduced to ash, and the graphite smoke billowed out like a scream to cover the sky in place of clouds, a pair of wings cut through the black horizon. Instead of a refreshing breeze or crisp, cool clouds, the air was filled with acrid poison and searing heat. Piercing through the thick graphite where visibility was near zero, a large bird flew toward the wolf and the girl in the red hood.
"A giant raven?"
"No, that’s a giant swallow. Its belly is white, its forked tail feathers are black, and the area around its beak is orange. Though, considering a bird of that size isn't exactly a normal creature, there’s no point in debating whether it’s a swallow or a raven. Hurry, climb onto my back. That swallow is carrying someone, too."
"Okay."
Sensing a fight, the wolf let the girl in the red hood mount its back. It watched the swallow circling the village. In this village, now burning and soon to be reduced to cinders, the flames grew weaker over every house the swallow passed. The comfort provided by the gentle breeze carried on the swallow's wings was bestowed equally upon all: the children staring blankly at their dead parents, the greedy fire that had swallowed their homes, and the older sister clutching her younger sibling, who didn't even know what was happening. It offered a moment of respite to those caught in the sudden despair and catastrophe. As the warm breeze brushed past the budding sprouts of spring, the crying ceased and the fires subsided.
Soon, the large swallow, having circled the village a few times, descended toward the wolf and the girl in the red hood, who were watching from below. It was not a dive for an attack, nor a rush to strike, but a descent for a standoff, keeping a moderate distance. The rider on the swallow's back, previously obscured, now came clearly into view. Upon seeing them, the wolf and the girl in the red hood felt a surge of fury rising from deep within.
In a word, they were repulsive. They were the type who had never suffered a single hardship in their lives, all polish on the outside. They were the sort who were stuffed with grease, who plastered their hair with useless medicines or perfumes daily, who had never endured the trial of walking a dangerous forest path alone, and who were accustomed to being treated like the world belonged to them—the kind of people who made one lose their appetite just by looking at them. Disgust and hatred welled up just watching them. As they contemplated how to kill and tear them apart, the rider's appearance became clearer, and that surging hatred softened just a fraction.
"Hm? Seeing you up close, you look quite different."
As the girl in the red hood had noted, the person who descended from the swallow’s back looked different up close than at first glance. From a distance, with a cape draped over a flashy black uniform embroidered with gold thread and a sword at their waist, they looked like a prince who had stepped out of a fairy tale. Except for a few details.
Up close, the gold thread embroidery was fraying everywhere, showing clear signs of long-term neglect. The buttons, which should have been made of jewels, were all missing; there were holes for them, but no buttons to be found. The cuffs, the collar, the cape—the clothes were faded and tattered. It was closer to a beggar trying to play prince, wearing a few rags discarded by a noble, than an actual prince.
"Let me start with an introduction. I am called the 'Nameless Prince' in these parts. My name is Oscar."
Perhaps because he was annoyed by the misery of the village, or perhaps because he disliked being entangled with the somewhat disheveled girl in the red hood and the wolf, he greeted them with a squinting gaze and a posture that was, despite everything, quite formal. Unlike his sloppy and clumsy appearance, his movements were flawless, with not a single wasted motion.
"My name is Erika. By the way, 'Nameless Prince'? I've heard that name a few times, and I suppose it's a nickname. But you have a perfectly good name, don't you?"
Setting aside the question of where this guy crawled out from, that was the most pressing point. He had a perfectly fine name like 'Oscar,' so why was his nickname the 'Nameless Prince'? And on top of that, a prince?
"Don't tell me... the Queen's child? I've never heard a word about her being married."
"The era is different."
"What are you talking about? Speak so I can understand. Whatever it means, I suppose we can just consider you an imposter who has nothing to do with the Queen?"
Judging by the fact that he only spewed nonsense, Erika relaxed her guard slightly, deciding he was just an imposter. He was certainly less of a threat than someone who could legitimately claim to be a subordinate of the real Queen.
"As you wish. I have one question: do you have any reason to destroy this village so horribly and treat these people so cruelly?"
The question sounded like a condemnation of the atrocities Erika and the wolf had committed together, but the annoyed expression on his face seemed directed not at them, but at the entire world, making it impossible to tell if he was an enemy, an ally, or neutral.
"That's none of your business, and I have no intention of telling you. Why are you meddling in other people's lives? Prince or beggar, unless you're going to wipe out everyone in the world who breaks the bowl even if they can't throw a single dented coin into a beggar's cup, you should mind your own business and go your own way."
"True, I cannot wipe out all such people in the world. But in my eyes, no matter what story you have, you are one of those who break the bowl."
"Ha, what do you know about us?"
When a faint murderous intent flickered in Oscar's eyes, which had been glaring at them with annoyance, Erika felt there was no longer any value in talking. He was nothing more than a beggar, despite his fancy exterior.
White cold air gathered in the wolf's mouth, and orange flames condensed at the tip of Erika's wand. Oscar drew his sword and aimed the tip at Erika and the wolf. It was an old sword, with the blade, the guard, and the connection point all chipped and uneven. It was so damaged and worn that it lacked even the characteristic shine of metal. If someone who knew how to handle a sword and held romance for it were to see it, they would be outraged that he treated a blade—which should be like a second self—in such a way, but to those who valued only practical combat, it was proof of the owner's extraordinary skill that he could win victory after victory while wielding a weapon in such a state.
The large swallow that had brought the prince began to flap its wings slowly and took flight. When the swallow's talons reached the height of a person's head, Erika and the wolf launched their preemptive strike.
The condensed flames and cold air erupted simultaneously, colliding to create a massive explosion of steam.
Boom! Following the explosion came the sound of collapse. It was undoubtedly the sound of the ice wall surrounding the village crumbling. Since it wasn't a good idea to search for an invisible enemy without clear visibility, Oscar chose defense. He stood in front of the village girl Erika had beaten with a club earlier, watching for signs like the sound of the wolf's footsteps or the crackling of flames.
"Where are they?"
There was no orange glow of flames, nor the sound of the wolf running. Were they preparing some special attack that took time? It didn't matter. Whoosh! The gust of wind created by the rising swallow scattered the curtain of steam in an instant. Whatever they were preparing, if he could see it clearly, he could deal with it. Oscar prepared to respond calmly to whatever attack came his way, but...
"They're gone."
With a look of dejection, Oscar pushed his sword back into the scabbard at his waist. The wolf carrying Erika had long since passed through the collapsed ice wall. Using the sound of the crumbling ice and the thick steam to hide themselves, the two had leisurely left, abandoning the destroyed village and the two strangers.
"No need to deal with a guy like that."
"Agreed. We don't even have enough time to burn the sub-human trash overflowing in Bremen. By the way, were you satisfied with this?"
"...It was such a pathetic, ugly sight that I felt happy for a moment, but it faded quickly."
"I hope you'll be happier when we burn Bremen."
"Certainly, it will be happier than this."
Waiting for the day to burn Bremen, the wolf ran on with Erika on its back.
*
While Erika and the wolf moved further away from the village, Oscar and the swallow went deeper into the village, which had now been reduced to ruins buried in ash.
"Honestly, they were right. I'm not a real prince; what right do I have to judge them as evil and stand in their way?"
With words full of remorse, Oscar looked around the village. Children who had fallen asleep from exhaustion, soot-stained boys and girls with vacant eyes who didn't react even when another uninvited guest arrived. Children trying to soothe their younger siblings, who were even smaller than themselves. The ruins of a village where all the adults were dead and only a few children remained. Could those children really endure the future and survive?
"My Lord, please don't say such things. None of those who criticize you have the right to truly judge you."
The swallow, having transformed back to its normal size, sat on Oscar's shoulder and comforted him.
"With the jewels you shared, someone was able to find firewood and a stove to survive the winter, and a boy was able to treat his sick mother. Thanks to the gold thread unraveled from your clothes, someone who dreamed of being a great writer was able to dream again. In this cruel world placed in the devil's grip, how can those who have never given hope to anyone have the right to criticize you?"
The swallow always comforted Oscar sincerely, and those words provided at least a little solace to his weary heart. But today, he couldn't feel even that comfort.
"Perhaps they are the result of those I couldn't help. And while those I helped long ago were able to gain new hope and move forward in their own difficult realities, what about now? Long ago, when the Queen killed the King and took the throne, the world suffered. And when the escaped Princess returned and rightfully reclaimed the throne, the world saw hope, but what returned was even greater sorrow and despair. In this dark world, like a man named Robin Hood did in the past, I chose to satisfy myself by extending a helping hand and offering small favors to those living in the daily lives within the reach of these short arms and small hands, instead of joining the fight to save the world. I believed that was meaningful, too. But what is the result? For years, I have seen nothing but adults who covet jewels and kill each other to steal them, and clever children who exploit adults who try to exploit innocent children. Is what I have done all this time meaningful? I don't know..."
Oscar let out a sigh and murmured one last thing.
"I only want to know one thing. What kind of person is this 'Billock,' and what kind of child is his daughter? Who are they, that thugs have gone to harm his daughter so many times? And is defeating those thugs a meaningful act?"