The Sanctuary of Hybras
It felt as though I had been asleep for a very long time. I might have dreamed, or perhaps I hadn't. In those fleeting moments of slumber, Sirien's face would occasionally drift into view. Sometimes she was shouting angrily at someone; other times, she looked down at me with an expression that seemed on the verge of tears.
As my long-submerged consciousness slowly drifted back to the surface, I realized those visions hadn't been dreams at all. They were likely real sights I had caught during brief, half-awake moments before slipping back under. Prying my heavy eyelids open, the world came into blurry focus.
"Ugh..."
My body creaked as if rust had settled deep into my joints. I could barely clench my fists, and with my mind still half-asleep, the lingering sensation of dreaming clung to me. It felt a bit warm. I pulled down the blanket that had been tucked all the way up to my chin, and the cool air brought some relief.
A blanket?
A strange sense of dissonance washed over me. We didn't own anything as soft and plush as this blanket. All we had was a single, multi-purpose woolen throw. And there was no way the hard ground could ever feel this comfortable. Come to think of it, the ceiling above me was entirely unfamiliar. In fact, it wasn't just the ceiling—the entire space felt foreign.
I was lying in a bed inside a room I had never seen before. Dragging my stiff, aching body upright, I looked down at the side of the bed. There, curled up right beside my hip, Sirien was fast asleep.
Perhaps stirred by my shifting, she began to rub her eyes. She looked groggy, as if she had only just fallen asleep. But the moment our eyes met, a gentle breeze swept through the window, fluttering the curtains. Morning sunlight spilled into the modest room. Bathed in that warm glow, her sleepy face suddenly brightened, her eyes widening. Soon, her small, lovely lips curved into a soft crescent. Her crimson eyes shone with a warm, welcoming smile as she spoke.
"You're awake? How are you feeling?"
It was the sweetest morning greeting I had ever heard.
To be honest, the sudden change in our surroundings still had me dazed. It felt as though the entire world had shifted the moment I opened my eyes after our battle with the spider. Still, I could make an educated guess. Things had likely unfolded just as they did in the original novel. The place I had fought so desperately to reach was, in the end, the exact same destination the original Rajen had arrived at. And the same went for Sirien. This place was simply the best option she could conceive of. I didn't know the exact sequence of events, but Sirien must have become the Saintess of Hibras here—the Saintess of a deity destined to one day be branded an evil god.
Frankly speaking, Hibras being branded an evil god wasn't entirely due to baseless slander. Of course, there was no such thing as an inherently "evil" deity. Every god possessed aspects that were both beneficial and detrimental to humanity. Thus, an "evil god" was merely a label slapped on by the dominant religious orders. However, there was a fairly plausible reason why Hibras, in particular, had earned that dark reputation.
"You must be hungry. Let's eat first. I was just getting hungry myself."
Sirien stepped out briefly to call for someone, and shortly after she returned, a person dressed in black entered to deliver our breakfast. Rather than elegant attire, the garments closely resembled mourning clothes. I recalled hearing that ordinary followers of Hibras wore such garb. For once, my knowledge of the novel was actually proving useful.
"They said you shouldn't push yourself today and just get some rest. They'll check on your condition tomorrow."
"Is there a doctor here?"
"No, but there's someone who can do something similar. You've met him before."
"Ah. That man from before?"
"Yeah."
It seemed that man's attire was the formal uniform of the Holy Knights of Hybras. No wonder I hadn't recognized it. How on earth was I supposed to know the uniform of a holy order that had vanished ages ago? Even in the original novel, it was merely described as a "black uniform," leaving me with no way to identify it. It wasn't as if black uniforms were rare in the world. At any rate, the breakfast brought to me consisted of mushroom soup and milk sweetened with honey. Seeing how even a stranger was treating me like a complete patient, I could easily guess the state of my body. Honestly, even if they had brought me something else, I probably wouldn't have been able to stomach it, so I had no complaints.
Sirien, on the other hand, was served a salad consisting mostly of fruits and vegetables. She was in a position where she could easily complain about the side dishes now, yet she seemed to be quietly enduring food she didn't particularly care for.
"Is the chef here not very good?"
"Huh? What makes you say that?"
"It's a meal that requires zero actual cooking. And I know you have a sweet tooth."
"That's not it. I just... felt like having something light today."
"Really? Guess I guessed wrong, then."
At that, Sirien let out a soft chuckle. She had been about to put a piece of vegetable into her mouth when the laughter escaped her.
"Actually, the food really isn't that great. I asked them to bake some cookies the other day, but they were so hard they tasted awful."
"Is that why you've been sticking to salads ever since?"
"No. The plain baked bread is actually decent—it's what everyone else eats. And the vegetables and fruits are grown nearby, so they're fresh and delicious."
"Sounds more like a military cook than a chef."
"Pfft. What kind of comparison is that? But honestly, it's pretty accurate. I don't think whoever is back there is a professional chef."
Still, the soup was decent enough. The honey milk was actually sweeter than what we used to have back at the castle. Perhaps they had tailored it to Sirien's tastes, knowing how much she loved sweet things. Come to think of it, Hena had mentioned wanting to try honey-sweetened milk. If I got the chance later, I should bring some to her.
As we ate, she filled me in on what had happened while I was out—specifically, the events immediately following the spider's death. It wasn't much different from what I had anticipated. Sirien had received the baptism of the Church of Hybras and was officially recognized as their Saintess. Though there were still many rituals left for her to undergo, the preparations took time, leaving her with plenty of free time for now.
She didn't explain exactly how she had come to the decision to become the Saintess. I could only assume she had bargained her participation in the rituals in exchange for our protection and my life. The Stigma of Hybras had manifested on the back of her left hand. In the original novel, the heroine, Elis, bore her Stigma of Light on her right hand. To think even something like this would be mirrored. Seeing her once flawless, pale skin marked like that left a bitter taste in my mouth.
"The people here were so happy when I became the Saintess. They said their long-held wish had finally been granted."
"Are there many people in a place like this?"
"Not really. Maybe seven in total? I'm not sure if there are more."
"Do you have any regrets? Back at the castle, you refused to receive any baptism, saying you didn't know which god you wanted to serve yet."
"It's a bit bittersweet, but I don't regret it. Even if time wound back, I would make the exact same choice."
The moment she finished her meal, Sirien crawled right into my arms. Forced back down onto the mattress, I had to bear her weight. She felt even lighter than before. Her soft cheek nuzzled against my chest. I opened my mouth to say something, but stopped when I saw how blissfully happy she looked.
Her eyes were curved like crescent moons, brimming with pure joy. A silly, helpless grin stretched across her face. Her arms wrapped around me as if to squeeze tight, only to soften immediately, as if she were worried she might hurt me. Knowing how much she must have suffered mentally, I quietly stroked the top of her head. This was always her favorite. She hated having her hair messed up, but she loved the gentle, sweeping motion of my hand smoothing her bangs down over her forehead.
Only after basking in my warmth for a long while did Sirien finally seem satisfied. We lay there, our bodies pressed together, staring up at the ceiling. The faded, aged wallpaper filled our vision. Suddenly, Sirien reached her hand up toward it.
"Rajen. I'm a Saintess now. Look, I can even use divine magic like this."
"Yeah, I see. You're good at it. All that studying you did in the past is finally paying off."
An orange light flickered over her palm. It was a gentle glow, reminiscent of a quiet lantern. It was warm, too, radiating a palpable heat. In the novel, Sirien had unleashed a pitch-black divinity to command death, but it seemed her power could also manifest in this gentle form.
"I can even use healing magic now. The very first thing I did after my baptism was work on restoring you. I poured every ounce of my divinity into you day after day. When you finally woke up, I felt like I could fly."
Her fingers traced down my arm. Finding my wrist, she slid her hand over mine, intertwining our fingers. Despite everything we had been through, her hand was still incredibly soft and delicate.
"You know, Rajen..."
"Yeah?"
"I worked really, really hard. Just like you always did for me, I did my absolute best to fight this time. I risked everything I had to protect both of us. So... praise me."
"You did wonderful. We truly survived this time because of you, Sirien. Thank you."
"I wanted to hear those words so badly. Say it a little more. And... I think I'd be even happier if you hugged me."
If she asked, I had to oblige. I wrapped my arms around her slender waist and pulled her close. Sirien placed her hands over mine and let out a soft, giggling *hehe*. Our clasped hands felt warmer than usual. Through my chest and her back, the steady thrum of our heartbeats echoed. *Thump, thump. Thump, thump.* The alternating rhythms seemed to merge into a single, synchronized beat. We lay in silence for a long time, listening to that shared pulse, enjoying the pleasant caress of the occasional breeze.
"Rajen. Since I'm a Saintess now, I can formally dub my own knight."
Sirien suddenly swallowed hard. In the quiet room, the sound was incredibly distinct.
"Of course, you've always been my knight. Just as you never demanded an oath while protecting me, I don't need a formal vow to consider you mine."
Her voice was clear and unwavering. Her words flowed smoothly, as if she had rehearsed them in her mind for a very long time. The girl who had always seemed so fragile suddenly sat up.
"But I want to do it, just once. I don't care if the rest of the world acknowledges it or not. I want to make you my official knight. Even if it's just a ceremony between the two of us. Actually, I think it would be better if it were just us."
Having stood up first, the girl reached her hand out to me.
"Please, Rajen. Will you be my knight, and mine alone?"