First Clear

The mindscape.

A realm that could be manifested only by those who had climbed to the rarest heights — Sword Masters, Great Sages, and their like. As a rule, one shaped that realm out of the moment in which one had been happiest. Now and then, someone could not.

Because they had never once been happy. Because some feeling existed that was greater than happiness. Because the memory of happiness had worn thin, and vanished.

There were any number of other reasons besides. In Mother's case, it was the third.

"Mom, I..."

Because her happy memories had been worn away.

Selena's tender voice. Her gentle movements. That smile, so like moonlight. Each time Mother became a mother she could not be proud of, she forgot them a little more, the way wind wears stone down.

She had been reaching toward the moonlight. If only she had realized sooner that the ground beneath her feet was a mire she could never climb out of.

...No.

Even if she went back to the past, she would make the same choice, so long as it meant saving her. Yes. That was the sort of person she was — a dreadful monster and a hypocrite, willing to sell any number of other decent people if it would keep the ones she loved safe.

And so, Luna.

"You..."

You, the brightest moonlight in all the world.

"Please... don't... live... the way... I did..."

The murmur had barely left her when Mother's outstretched hand melted away, an instant before it could touch Luna's cheek.

It could not be helped. In the real world Mother was nothing but a lingering thought parasitizing Luna's body, and as the mindscape came apart it was only natural that her form should be lost with it. She might, of course, have sunk back into a mere thought and taken up residence in Luna's body once more — but that, too, was possible only so long as the thought's power remained whole.

Vulcan. The Black Wolf. Black Wolf himself. Every kind of threat there was. The lingering thought with which Mother had kept Luna safe from all of them was already appointed to vanish, and she knew it.

If she were honest, she regretted it. She had only just managed to be sincere, and here she was melting away without even the time for a proper talk. She had wanted, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠at the very least, to wipe those tears away with a hand that was still whole.

...Thud.

She could no longer hold ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠even a human shape. She was melting out of a regret black as pitch.

But it was all right. Even someone like her had been loved. Luna — the last thread of light remaining to her —

"Please, take care of my daughter."

"...Set your heart at ease."

—would surely be happy. So she would close her eyes, and leave no regret behind.

Time would flow on as it always had, and along that current both sorrow and regret would blur.

"Lu... na."

Please. Be happy — and be happy again.

In the very moment Mother meant to close her eyes—

"...No."

Luna, who had been holding her, wiped at her tears and met her eyes. The rims of them were red. Her hair was a hopeless tangle. The corners of her mouth trembled. Tears and a running nose had made a wreck of her face, and still Luna smiled as she went on.

"My dream is still you, Mom."

"...?"

"I... I'm going to become someone strong, just like you, and I'm going to protect the people I love."

It was a smile barely holding a sob down, the sort that looked ready to collapse at any instant. And yet—

"Thank you, Mom. I love you. So much. Really."

Because that expression never broke, not even at the end, Mother was able to catch one glittering thread of light inside a consciousness already going dim.

"I'm gonna be a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠strong mercenary, just like Mom!"

Memories and old days rising clear as water, and at the end of them, Luna, smiling.

"...Ah."

The mindscape. A realm that could be manifested only by those who had climbed to the rarest heights — Sword Masters, Great Sages, and their like. As a rule, one shaped that realm out of the moment in which one had been happiest. Now and then, someone could not. Because they had never once been happy. Because some feeling existed that was greater than happiness. Because the memory of happiness had worn thin, and vanished.

There were any number of other reasons besides. In Mother's case, it was the third.

"Mom, I..."

Her happy memories had been worn away. And yet—

"I will... I will become someone just like you, Mom. I promise."

"I'm gonna be a strong mercenary, just like Mom!"

Now — now that she had called every one of those memories back.

Moonlight, clear and sharp, poured into her sight as she faced her end — into the eyes of Mother, who had lived her whole life with nothing over her but the dark.

And so she gained it.

A matter of seconds. Only then, with the moonlight at last within her reach, did Mother stretch her hand toward it.

"I love you, Luna."

She whispered it as she wiped the stained tears away.

Click.

She lifted the mask free, set it over the girl's face, spent her final moment drawing her close, and whispered once more.

"I love you, my daughter."

You were—

A pure white smile, with her whole heart in it.

That was the end.

The mindscape vanished all at once. Mother scattered like mist. Beneath what remained of her, Luna stood alone.

A parting, complete.

"Aah...!!"

Only then did the tears Luna had swallowed break free again, and for a long while she shook.

Someday, time would pass. The grief would dull, and great happiness would find her. But—

For now — just for this little while —

"Mo-om... Cap-tain..."

"...Lean on me, Luna."

—it was all right to be sad.

.

.

.

The day after Black Wolf raided the County of Gardner once more, rumors were already turning through the capital.

"Black Wolf, yeah? Word is they got trounced by the hero party and barely crawled off with their lives."

Someone cackled, as if a weight had come off their chest.

"You—!! Have you lost your mind?! Tired of living, are you?! How dare you let that name into your mouth...!! The household troops, the mercenaries — wiped out to the last, weren't they...?!!"

Someone was more afraid than they had been before.

"So how'd it go, Vulcan?! Those Black Wolf lot — they as strong as Asha?!"

"I'm hungry, Marin. Food first."

"...Cook it yourself and eat it, you idiot."

"Oh...!! So that's a way to do it...!!"

And someone else, at the unexpected news, let a dull pair of eyes glitter with interest.

None of it was any of Nahan's concern.

"Ugh. Maybe I was wound too tight. Why am I still sleepy no matter how much I sleep?"

"Nnngh...!!"

The sun had passed noon and begun to lean. In the hideout kept for Ian Red alone — cleared out only just enough for a person to live in — Nahan finally opened his eyes.

"...How did I even get in yesterday?"

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and tried to remember. He had calmed Luna, who was sobbing her heart out. He had calmed Lactea, who had announced she was going to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠kill every last one of them. He had calmed Ruby, who had begged to be allowed to sleep beside him, just for today...

"...Let's not think about it."

Whatever the case, the cleanup was done and his head was still attached to his neck, so it would probably be fine. He pressed hard at his throbbing skull, dug out a strip of dried jerky, and chewed. Something finally went into his empty stomach, and his stalled brain began, slowly, to work.

"First, the full Ian Red loadout... Ah. I need to check these, too."

Only then did Nahan look at the system windows he had shoved into a corner of his vision — the status windows he had never gotten around to, busy as he had been soothing a sobbing Luna, a furiously enraged Lactea, and a whining Ruby.

"Those Who Were Not Saved, a bad ending, a main scenario... Why is there so much of it?"

He was tired enough that he could barely keep his eyes open, and the pile of text waiting for him was enormous. Still, what choice did he have? If he wanted to live, he had to look. In the end he pulled out another strip of jerky, bit down, and sorted the tangled windows into order.

"All right, then..."

Rewards first. He seemed to have managed more than he had thought; an ominous golden window was hanging there, and he was just reaching a finger into the empty air — a little dopamine, while he was at it — when a familiar voice came from directly behind him.

"Oh dear. Were you in the middle of a prayer?"

He whipped his head around. What met his eyes was an expressionless woman the color of a clear sky.

"...When did you come in?"

"Just as you were about to pray. You said, 'All right, then.'"

"...Is that so."

Good. Looks like I got the artifact on and came in already dressed as Ian Red.

"Even so, you might at least knock."

"I did. The door opened, so I assumed you had heard."

He followed Asha's gaze, and a battered old door, broken halfway through, came into view.

"We, as a society, have agreed that a condition such as that is to be described not as opened, but as broken."

"...Could it be that my coming here has displeased you?"

The fist that accompanied the question was exceedingly solid. Nahan reached out the hand he had been waving in vague little arcs, caught Asha's, bowed his head, and whispered.

"Let us pray."

May I get through today in one piece, too.

A short while later, her prayer finished, Asha held out her right hand to Nahan as he was bringing the tea, and made her proposal.

"Join the party."

"...Pardon?"

"Join our party."

...The hero party?

I'm already Black Wolf, and Yellow Dragon, and Ian Red. And now the hero party on top of that?

For an instant, Nahan was thrown. He answered with a faint smile and a nod.

"I must decline."

"May I ask the reason?"

"Ah, well..."

"I'm already running three accounts."