Crimson Lament (4)
"…I wonder if they're both doing all right."
At Letisia's murmur, Freya turned her head. Seeing Letisia's ears drooping limply, she let out a soft sigh of sympathy.
It wasn't just Letisia lately. Erinn, too, had been deeply downcast the last time Freya saw her before she entered the Imperial Palace. And Ser-Aria, who had left to inform the elven forest of the party's changes, hadn't looked particularly cheerful either before she departed.
We can't keep going on like this…
Of course, Freya understood how they felt. She still carried her own guilt for having suspected Albrecht — who had been the victim all along — and Clara's departure alongside him had left a hollow ache in her chest.
But they were the Hero's Party. No matter how much it hurt, they were a group that had to pull themselves together quickly and fulfill their duty. If they abandoned their responsibilities over emotional wounds, far too many people would suffer for it. They needed to stand up, push through, and return to the way they had been.
"…They're fine," Freya said, hoping the words might lend some strength. "Clara and Albrecht… they're not the kind of people we need to worry about that much. For all we know, they've already found something to do."
She thought of Albrecht — so different from the old Allen — and the way he had always shown a clear, decisive drive when it came to his own goals.
"That's just the kind of person he is."
"…I know that much myself."
But Letisia's reply was not quite what Freya had expected.
"They're good people, so of course they'll manage wherever they go. That isn't what I was worried about."
"Then…"
"I just… wanted to see them."
Freya flinched at Letisia's answer. Those words — I wanted to see them — struck a chord deep enough to set her own heart swaying.
"Wanted to see them…"
Because she was no different from Letisia.
Erinn had asked her to be kind to him, yes — but Freya hadn't started treating him well purely out of obligation. Back when she still believed Allen had simply changed, she had thought the new Allen was a genuinely good person. His looks had never been lacking — Erinn herself had been thoroughly smitten — and once his personality improved as well, there had been nothing left to criticize. All those little gestures of warmth had grown naturally out of the fondness that followed. She couldn't claim Erinn's request had played no part… but the changed Allen — Albrecht — had become a colleague she liked, and a man she found attractive.
So while she understood Letisia's longing, a part of her also found it curious. Had Letisia felt the same way she had?
Freya asked, a note of doubt in her voice.
"…Do you mean Clara?"
"…Both of them."
Letisia turned the question back on her.
"Freya… don't you miss him?"
"…I…"
That settled it. Letisia's feelings were no different from her own.
A little surprised, Freya realized there was no need to hedge. She felt the same way Letisia did.
"…Of course I miss him. Naturally." Freya said. "He's a precious comrade."
She couldn't bring herself to be entirely honest. It wasn't only as a comrade that she missed him — but admitting she harbored romantic feelings was a little embarrassing, and she was also conscious of how it might look.
"…I think we sent him away too hastily," Letisia said, lowering her head and burying her face against her knees. "Of course Erinn had her reasons, and as she said, Albrecht was only caught up in all of this… so the idea of sending him away from a battlefield where lives are at stake wasn't wrong. But…"
Letisia continued.
"No one ever asked him if that was what he actually wanted."
"That's…"
That was because Erinn had said the matter was already settled between the two of them, and there had been nothing more to say. Clara had raised doubts, but once she was told Albrecht had agreed, there was no further argument to make. Objecting to something already decided would have just been stubbornness. Freya recalled that as she spoke.
"…Erinn said the two of them had already talked it through."
"She did. But looking back on it now…"
Letisia spoke with self-reproach.
"Was that really a decision he made because he wanted to — or because the situation left him no choice? You only have to think about it for a moment to know, don't you?"
"…"
"I'm not being overly self-serving by thinking that, am I?"
Freya had no rebuttal. Albrecht had, after all, said something about having "no choice" when he left the party. It might have been a self-serving guess colored by Freya's own wishes… but perhaps, deep down, Albrecht hadn't wanted to leave at all.
"…I'm going to talk to Erinn about this."
"…What?"
Freya was startled. If Letisia brought this up with Erinn, she honestly doubted anything good would come of it. Especially with Erinn already stressed to the breaking point after her visit to the Imperial Palace — piling on another headache on top of that would be…
"Ah — no, Letisia. You can't."
"Why not?"
"At the very least, wait until some time has passed. Erinn is coming back from the palace."
As if reading Freya's intent, Letisia's mouth fell slightly open — she had clearly forgotten. Her drooping ears pricked up for a moment, then sagged again as her expression fell.
"…You're right."
Watching Letisia wilt so openly, Freya felt a pang of sympathy.
"…But I don't think what you said is entirely wrong," Freya offered. Letisia glanced at her. "Once we get our next mission, Aria will be back from the elven forest too… Let's talk about it then."
"…"
Letisia gave a small nod. Then she rose from her seat and put on her hat.
"I'm going to… head back and rest a little first."
"Ah, yes. Get some rest, Letisia."
Once Letisia had returned to her room and Freya was left alone, she finally let the emotions she had been holding back show on her face. Just like Letisia, drained of all strength, Freya was not so different. She felt the same feelings Letisia did, and the same hollow emptiness. And unlike Letisia, who had nothing particular to apologize for, Freya carried a heavier guilt for having so openly suspected him.
She had apologized before they parted, but still…
Alone now, with no need to hide her feelings, Freya stared blankly at the ceiling. Then she folded her hands neatly together.
"…Lord Vita."
With her hands clasped, Freya whispered a quiet prayer.
"Please… grant me a strong heart."
Telling herself that time would resolve even feelings like these.
Ser-Aria left Belpaste and headed straight for the elven forest. Traveling due east from the Behend Kingdom brought one to a vast stretch of woodland — and that enormous forest was the domain of the elves.
Deepest within that forest, tending the World Tree and revered by every elf, lived the High Elves. Not even ordinary elves could enter freely; the only ones granted passage were fellow High Elves, or the one who held the title of Divine Archer — the finest archer of their generation.
That sacred forest, Chakra Silva, was also home to the current king of the High Elves and head of the Black Eye clan.
The moment Ser-Aria appeared there, the gatekeepers of Chakra Silva all lowered their weapons and dropped to one knee in respect. It wasn't merely because she was the current Divine Archer. The prefix attached to her name — Ser- — marked her as royalty.
"You honor us with your presence, noble one."
She was, moreover, one of the current king's only two blood relatives. Once famous as the tomboy princess, she now commanded universal respect as the bearer of the Divine Archer's title…
"Pwahh."
…Though at present she couldn't keep her mouth off the liquor she'd discovered in the outside world. Still, she was undeniably a person of high station.
The gatekeepers watched Ser-Aria guzzling from the bottle and were left speechless — but that did nothing to diminish her dignity.
"Is Father in?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
And so the most veteran among the gatekeepers — the First Bow, Arsenio — answered with steadfast loyalty.
"However, Princess… it might be best if you sobered up a little first…"
"It's fine. Father already knows I drink." Ser-Aria said. "I wasn't planning to stay long anyway. I'll just give a quick report and head back."
"Why the rush to leave, Your Highness? We heard you recently accomplished something remarkable. Do you truly have no time to rest?"
"Could it be that those humans are working the princess to the bone?!"
The Second Bow, Kudelle, reacted with such heat that Ser-Aria waved a hand dismissively.
"No, it's nothing like that."
"Princess Er-Nelia has also been missing you, Your Highness. Why not stay a while and take it easy?"
"Mmm, that might be tough…"
The gatekeepers looked at Ser-Aria as if to ask why. But she didn't think it was something she needed to explain to them, and she smiled apologetically.
"I'll head in for now, all right?"
"…Yes, Your Highness."
As Ser-Aria entered the forest, the High Elves living there recognized her and welcomed her warmly.
"Oh my, Princess! You've returned!"
"Princess Ser-Aria, I'm so glad you look well!"
"It's Princess Aria!"
Young and old, men and women alike celebrated her homecoming. Part of it was because she was a princess — but part of it was also because she was the undisputed Divine Archer of the present age.
For elves, who shunned killing and rarely used bladed weapons, the bow was a vital armament. And so the title of Divine Archer, bestowed upon the one who wielded it best, carried an honor beyond ordinary imagination. With that much fame and influence behind her, Ser-Aria at least made a point of concealing her liquor bottles while she was here. Normally, that is.
But not today. The woman who usually hid her bottles strode past the gathered High Elves with one held openly in her hand, tipping it to her lips as she went. The High Elves tilted their heads at the air of someone with no time to spare.
"Hm?"
"What's gotten into the princess?"
"Did something happen?"
Passing the puzzled High Elves, Ser-Aria made her way toward the tallest tree in Chakra Silva — second only to the World Tree itself. Unusually, its trunk was pure white throughout, and set into the middle of that trunk was a white door framed in elegant gold.
Ser-Aria drained the bottle dry in front of it, then called for her father with a sigh.
"Father."
Two figures emerged together through the white door. Like Ser-Aria, they had black hair and black eyes, along with the snow-white skin and long ears characteristic of High Elves — a man and a woman.
"Did I not tell you to refrain from that habit in front of the people?"
"She must have had a hard time of it. Please forgive her, Father."
"How she ever turned into such a drinker…"
They were Ser-Aria's father and the current king of the High Elves, Ger-Senia, and his daughter — Ser-Aria's older sister — Princess Er-Nelia.
"Hehe. Aria, don't take it too hard. Father's only fretting because he worries about you."
"…I know."
Er-Nelia smiled gently and asked,
"It's been a while. Have you been well?"
"Me? Same as always…"
Ser-Aria asked in turn,
"What about you, Sister? Assisting Father isn't too hard, is it?"
Er-Nelia served as Ger-Senia's regular aide. That was why she had come out of the king's study with him now.
"Father is the same as ever, so…"
"Which means it's hard. Father's not exactly easygoing."
"Ahem. So — what brings you back this time?"
Apparently a little wounded by his daughters' conversation, Ger-Senia asked somewhat curtly. Ser-Aria answered,
"I came to make a report. I'll say what I need to say and head right back."
"Hm? Then why not simply send word? You're busy — no need to come all the way back…"
"…There's been a change in the party."
Ger-Senia's expression hardened slightly at his daughter's words.
"…A change?"
"The party's thief and porter have left. We're down to four members."
"The porter…"
"You mean that lecherous human?"
Ser-Aria flinched at Er-Nelia's question. It was true — the last time she had returned to the forest, she herself had described Allen as a lecher. But since then Allen had become Albrecht, and he was no longer someone you could call a lecher or a scoundrel… rather, he had become a good comrade. She had never had the chance to explain that change, so Er-Nelia still thought of him as that same lecher.
"…No. He's changed a lot."
"Then why did he leave? And the thief… the half dark elf, was it? Why did that child leave as well?"
Explaining the reasons was difficult. The attempt to swap souls, and everything that followed… that was something only Erinn, as the party concerned, had any right to speak of. It wasn't Ser-Aria's place to casually discuss it.
"…Anyway, I came to tell you that the four of us will be traveling together from now on. You said to report in person whenever the party roster changed, Father."
"That was…"
That had been because Ger-Senia worried Ser-Aria might end up with strange party members — people whose company would stain her honor. He had never imagined he would hear that the party had simply shrunk.
"…So the Hero decided this?"
"…Yes. But she said they reached an agreement, so… it wasn't as if they were thrown out arbitrarily."
Ger-Senia listened, then spoke after a moment's thought.
"Still, isn't this for the best in its own way? You said that man made you uncomfortable yourself… Losing combat power is unfortunate, but he was only a porter in the end."
"…No."
"No?"
Ser-Aria said,
"It hasn't been for the best."
"…"
"If anything, the atmosphere has been a complete mess since we sent him away."
She thought of Letisia and Freya, whose faces had still been dark when she left, and of Erinn, who had been tormenting herself alone the whole time. And she became aware once more of her own unease, no different from theirs.
"So I'm going to find him, Father."
"What?"
"Please help me."
As she spoke, the liquor bottle slipped from Ser-Aria's hand and hit the ground. She took both of her father's hands in hers and pleaded.
"Release the Forest's Shadow and find him for me. I'd look myself if I could, but I have to return to the party — I can't go searching on my own."
Ger-Senia was slightly taken aback. So was Er-Nelia beside him. It was rare enough for Ser-Aria to ask for anything — and rarer still that the request was to find a human man.
"Wasn't that man simply a porter? What influence could he possibly have that would…"
"No. If he'd been nothing more than a porter, none of this would be happening."
Ser-Aria shook her head. Then, thinking of the one Hero who had never been able to hide the tangle of emotions she held toward him, she said,
"…The Hero only moves when he's there."