A Parent's Story (1)
"Your Majesty. What in the world brings you here…"
Delphine let the words trail away, watching the Emperor's face as she followed behind him.
She had received an imperial command to rest at her residence and had withdrawn from the palace. That same day, she had turned north. By any honest accounting, she had disobeyed the Emperor's order — and so it was only natural that she would draw in on herself now, only right that she would wait, taut and uneasy, for whatever storm of rebuke might break.
"…"
But the moment the Emperor turned, and she saw his face—
"Your Majesty?"
Delphine could not hide her dismay. There was no color in him. His face had gone ashen white, the look of a man being hunted.
"Your Majesty. You do not look well."
"I do not look well. Yes. I suppose I wouldn't."
The Emperor muttered it in a small voice. Then he stepped close to Delphine and suddenly seized her hands.
"Sir Delphine. So — did you find it?"
"Your Majesty? I don't understand what you—"
"The reason you came north while hiding it even from me. It was to find that red bird, was it not? To determine whether it is a threat to the Empire. Or if not, why it revealed itself at all. That is why you came."
Half right, half wrong. There were things she was curious about, just as the Emperor said. But there was also the simple wish to lay eyes on the red bird one more time.
"I ask you again. Did you find it?"
"I was unable to find the red bird. But Your Majesty — something extraordinary happened in its place…"
"Then go back out and find it again. Sir Delphine, you have encountered that being twice already. If you search this time as well, it will surely reveal itself before you!"
Something was wrong. This was not the Emperor she knew.
"Your Majesty. I, Delphine Lionheart, will carry out whatever command you give. But there is something I must ask. Why are you here, and why do you bid me seek the red bird?"
"It is for the future of this nation. It is for my own tomorrow."
Barely steadying a voice that shook and shook, forcing down the ominous thoughts that kept rising unbidden, the Emperor told his knight why he had come north.
The Crown Princess had collapsed with a sudden high fever. The imperial physicians had crowded around her, yet they could not even name the illness. It had come too suddenly — a sickness without any warning at all. It might not even be a sickness. It might be a curse. A curse laid by that crimson being they had encountered in the north.
If that were truly so, then he would plead. He would threaten. He would do whatever it took to save the heir who would one day lead the Empire. As a father, he could not abandon his daughter.
"Your Majesty. Please — just a moment. Please hear me. It is true that the red bird was wary of people, but it was not a being that would commit such a vicious act."
"And how can you be so certain?"
"It saved a village from the Demonic Dragon. It slew the Demonic Dragon. And when the Empire's investigation party and the Order's subjugation force entered the north, it let them go without a single attack. Were those not the very words Your Majesty used when you persuaded me?"
To think she would one day use the words she had once been told to persuade him in turn. It was proof enough that the Emperor was not in his right mind.
"Even if that is so, I must find the red bird."
"Your Majesty!"
"If it is strong enough to kill a Demonic Dragon, and if its nature is such that it will not harm people — then it might help us, one way or another, might it not?"
Only yesterday, a terrible message had arrived from the Imperial Capital. The Crown Princess's condition had grown even more grave. She was wasting away as though she might breathe her last at any moment. The fever burned so fiercely that even a grown adult would struggle to endure it. For a child who had only just turned ten, it was already too much.
"How am I supposed to be in my right mind, given this? I cannot help but think the red bird is the cause. The Crown Princess was in perfect health — and then she encountered the red bird, and this is what became of her."
"…"
"If I meet it and that truly is the cause, then I will plead with it or I will kill it. If it is not, then I must ask it for help, whatever that help may be. Sir Delphine. Am I wrong?"
Yes, Your Majesty. You are wrong. Not a single part of it is right.
There is no evidence the red bird did this — so what then? There is no guarantee that being would even speak honestly. And even if it did lay a curse, that is a problem in itself. The reality is that one can scarcely even look upon it, let alone kill it. And if it did not — even if you asked it for a remedy, would it help you? To plead for a human heart from something that is not human.
Delphine could not bring herself to pour those words out of her mouth. The Emperor looked far too desperate, far too frantic, for her to do so.
"…The truth is, I know. I know that all of this is foolish."
It was quite some time before the Emperor finally collected himself.
"No matter how much I tell myself it isn't so, the thought keeps coming — what if it is? I suppose it is because I want so desperately to cure the Crown Princess's illness, even if it means grasping at that. As Emperor, it is the worst possible course. As a father, I simply cannot ignore it and walk past."
Delphine knew. She knew how dearly the Emperor cherished the Crown Princess. A child he had struggled so hard to have. An heir he was raising with every ounce of devotion. And that child, scarcely ten years old, now stood at death's threshold. Anyone who saw it would lose their mind. It might be more accurate to say the Emperor was still holding on.
"I have to do something. So tell me, Sir Delphine. The place where you saw the red bird a year ago. Where was it?"
Even a hopeless hope is something a person wants to cling to. To hang on like that, to lean on even the smallest thing — that is what it is to be human. How could anyone fault him for it? He was a person. He was human. And so he was this way.
"Your Majesty."
The Lord Chamberlain, who had followed them this far, dropped to one knee.
"Word has just arrived from the Imperial Capital. The Crown Princess's condition has worsened further."
"How — how bad is it?"
"They say tonight will be the critical hour…"
At the wretched news, the Emperor sank to the ground. And with that, Delphine had no other path left.
"Let us go, Your Majesty. I do not know whether the red bird has anything to do with this affair… but if we go and offer a prayer to the god, there may yet be an answer!"
Delphine raised the Emperor to his feet and led him toward the place where she had once fought the Demonic Dragon.
It was nothing special — only a vacant lot, barren and empty. Even so, the moment they arrived, the Emperor leapt down from the carriage.
"O Great One!"
And gazing up at the heavens, he cried out with all the desperation in him.
No answer came. The world was nothing but silence.
But the Emperor did not give up. He kept begging forgiveness for his sins. Delphine, the Lord Chamberlain, and the guards could not hide the grimness on their faces.
As an Emperor fighting for his heir. As a father fighting for his daughter. The Emperor cried out like that, and cried out again, for more than an hour.
"What's he doing that for."
Afraid they might catch sight of me. Afraid they might sense my presence. I had climbed all the way to the mountain peak to watch.
I had expected a human of high station — but the Emperor himself? If he hadn't introduced himself, I never would have known.
More than that, I couldn't understand why he kept begging forgiveness. If those people had done something wrong, I would have shown my anger long ago. I sent them on their way in peace — so why were they carrying on like this again?
Is his daughter that badly ill?
A man called Emperor was on his knees, begging. If he would do that in front of his own vassals, it was no lie. He could only act this way because he was that desperate.
But I turned my head. I covered my face with a wing, forcing myself not to look.
I must not intervene any further. I had already gone against death.
I had raised my voice before Blue Sky. But inwardly, I had clearly felt sorry. I was the one in the wrong. I was the one who had caused the problem. A being from another world had interfered with the rules of this one. I was grateful enough that Blue Sky had stepped aside.
If the Emperor's daughter dying is the order this world has set — if she is meant to die of illness — then I cannot intervene.
And so I stopped my ears all the harder.
No more. Once was enough. No more…
"How pitiful."
Heartrending. Wretched. Compassion welled up in me.
A parent forced to watch their child die. Was there anything in the world more bleak than that?
I wanted to help. I wanted to help them. I wanted to tell them. At least once — that such a thing as a miracle exists.
As long as I don't save her directly, wouldn't that be all right?
In Anne's case, I had used my own feathers. The result had been Blue Sky raising a fierce objection — protesting that an outside being had intervened directly.
So what if I didn't use my feathers? If I helped indirectly, that wouldn't be such a great problem, would it?
Once my heart was set, the wings that had been stopping my ears spread wide. I soared into the sky and flew toward the father who had a daughter.
Night had not yet fallen. It was still too early for despair.
His throat had gone completely raw. No voice would come. Even so, the Emperor sought the red bird with all the desperation left in him.
If I have given you offense, I beg you — lay the punishment on me alone. Just once, take pity on this human and show mercy. O God. If you are truly there, grant a miracle. A man who was not always good, yet was never evil, entreats you. If taking this life could spare that young one, then please…
"Those who lose a wife are called widowers."
"Those who lose a husband are called widows."
At the voice that suddenly reached him, the Emperor jerked his head up.
"Those who lose their parents are called orphans."
A power he dared not defy washed over him. Fear that made his body tremble of its own accord came flooding in. And yet, with it, came a warmth that nearly brought him to tears.
"But nowhere in this world—"
A radiant light flooded the world. Beyond the sky, a crimson aura welled up.
Crimson feathers. Crimson wings. Five-colored eyes.
A being so sacred that even to meet its gaze felt like a sin.
"There is no word for those who have lost a child."
To a parent's desperate cry, a god answered.