Yoris's Repentance (1)
Around noon the following day, Lucy sat in her room, sunk deep in thought.
"I've got a feeling about this. The mutt shows up, and suddenly Kiera's power comes back? When the mutt was gone, the power vanished too... Hmm. Is that a ridiculous suspicion? But my instincts, honed over a lifetime as a mage, are telling me there's something to it."
She stared blankly at her crystal orb while her thoughts wandered elsewhere, then slapped its surface with her palm.
"And why won't this thing work? Did I botch the spell?"
If the enchantment were working properly, it should have been showing her a view of Maru's room. She cast the incantation again and again, but the crystal orb stayed stubbornly still.
"Damn it. I must have set it up wrong."
She punched the bed in frustration and stormed out of her room. Creeping over to Maru's door, she found it standing wide open, with knights spilling out into the corridor and lining up in formation. Eavesdropping quietly, she gathered it was the morning muster, where they discussed the day's schedule.
"Damn it all. I'll have to come back later."
Lucy scrunched up her face and walked away. She headed to the dining hall to grab some lunch, but as she passed the building where the banquet had been held the night before, the sound of drunken ruckus drifted out.
"What, they're still at it?"
She glanced idly through the window. In a vast hall that had been cleaned spotless, only a single table remained set with liquor and food. Prince Edward and Yosef, eldest son of Duke Toledo, were still drinking.
"I won... didn't I? Say I won... *hic!*"
"You did *hic!* not... Take your drink already... here."
"Huuurp. I can still drink. Fill 'er up again, will yooo."
Both of them were slumped forward, eyes half-closed, swaying unsteadily — completely out of their minds.
Lucy looked away and clicked her tongue. "I'll never understand what people see in drink. Fools, the both of them."
Afterward, at the dining hall, she joined the Hero's party — all of them bleary from sleeping in — for a late meal. There, Yoris sat before a lavishly laden table, not eating a bite, just stirring his food around and around with his spoon.
Natalie, unable to watch any longer, lost her temper.
"What the hell are you doing, ruining everyone's appetite? If you don't want to eat, get out."
Yoris smiled. "It's a serious matter, really — you all have no wariness about you at all. What if there were poison in these delicious-looking dishes? And there you all are, eating away so happily."
"Why would there be poison?"
"Why wouldn't there be? Can you not think of a single person who'd want to slip some in? Because I certainly can."
Kiera said nothing, silently eating her meal. Poison did not work on the Hero.
Lucy set down her spoon and stared at Yoris. "Then you shouldn't have eaten at the banquet last night, either."
"There were plenty of tasters around then, weren't there? Now it's just us."
Natalie slammed her fist down on the table. "What kind of bastard poisons someone's food? Who exactly are you imagining?"
"Who else?"
Yoris narrowed his eyes.
"Maru, of course. Does it really not occur to you that he might want revenge on us?"
When afternoon came, Yoris dressed in his priest's vestments and left the royal castle to walk through the city. Looking around at his surroundings, he wore a contented smile.
"What a beautiful city. I like it very much. It seems a fine place for quiet contemplation."
He strolled along with his hands clasped behind his back, intending to visit the temples within the city. Then an old woman approached him, holding out a piece of paper and asking for directions.
"Could you tell me how to get here, dearie?"
"I'm a stranger to this city myself, I'm afraid. I couldn't say."
He was about to brush past her when the old woman seized his sleeve.
"I'll reward you for your trouble. Come now, help a poor old woman, young man."
"A reward, you say... Well. Let me have a look."
"Do have a look, love."
Yoris bent over the map drawn on the paper and shook his head. "I truly don't know, I'm sorry."
The moment he straightened his back again, the old woman broke into a wicked grin and jabbed something hidden beneath the paper straight into his face.
"Ghk—!"
A liquid splashed across his face without warning, and he squeezed his eyes shut as strength drained from his body. He crumpled to the ground and slipped into unconsciousness.
When he opened his eyes again, he was sitting in a pitch-black basement room that reeked of mold and damp.
"Where... where am I...?"
His hands and feet were bound, each to the armrests and legs of an iron chair.
"Why me...? Who...? Don't tell me — Maru...?"
As Yoris sat there in a daze, the iron door creaked open, and six figures in white masks with smiling faces filed into the room. They came in all shapes — some gaunt, some hulking. From behind one mask came the voice of a middle-aged man, and from another, a young woman's.
"Is this the priest of that Hero party?"
"Yes — Yoris de Barbier, positively identified. We verified it several times to be certain."
"Good."
The middle-aged man, his face hidden behind the mask, walked briskly up to the chair where Yoris was bound. He wore a heavy black cloak that swallowed his arms to the fingertips.
"Curious about why you've been brought here?"
Yoris managed a composed smile. "I don't know who you are, but once the Hero learns of this, she will not stand idly by."
At that, another masked man sneered with open contempt. "Good — we're counting on her not standing idly by. We came here to kill that Hero bitch, so this works out splendidly."
"……?"
The smile congealed on Yoris's face and slowly died.
"Who... who are you people?"
The masked man in the middle spoke. "A few months ago, the beloved child of a most exalted person fell into the sea because of you people, and died. To avenge that child — the one our master cherished, the one all of us held dear — we arrived in this country two days ago. In other words, we came to kill you, the Hero's party."
"I'm afraid I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about. Are you suggesting we killed this exalted child? You must be confusing us with someone else. What was this person's name?"
"Oh, you didn't kill him. Not directly. He wandered off alone, lonely and lost, and died all by himself."
The man traced his fingers over the torture implements hanging on the wall as he continued.
"Our master's wrath reached its very peak, and he commanded us: subject the Hero and her companions to the most exquisite torments, then tear them limb from limb, burn their hometowns to ash, and extinguish every last one of their bloodlines. Destroy the noble houses that sponsored the Hero as well, down to their foundations. And with that command, he swore he would no longer bind himself to justice or to goodness. You have enraged the one person in this world who must never be touched."
Yoris burst into a hollow laugh, evidently unable to bring himself to believe the man's outlandish story. "This is all far too absurd to make sense of. Is this an act, meant to frighten me?"
Every masked figure in the room erupted into laughter at once. The middle-aged man shook his head slowly.
"If you can't understand with your head, you'll understand with your body. We've finished locating the Hero and all your companions, and starting with you, we will eliminate you one by one, beginning today. Begin."
"Yes, sir!"
"W-wait — at least tell me this child's name first! There's been some mistake, I'm sure of it!"
"That's a story you can trade leisurely with the Hero."
The man handed the torture implement to the person beside him and left the basement. Before long, Yoris's screams were ringing out through the room in harrowing echoes.
The man emerged outside and sat down in a chair. He removed his mask and lit a cigarette. The room's interior turned out to be a perfectly ordinary living room. Shortly after, four people pushed open the basement door and stepped out.
"That one's quite the drama queen, isn't he?"
The four of them laughed as they each took a seat. The man exhaling white smoke spoke up.
"Whoever goes in for the next shift — toss in a story or two about His Highness's good deeds while you work. Helps keep the anger under control."
"It'll just piss me off more."
"Captain. I'd like to go in second."
"Go ahead, Ice Cat. Tell us."
The woman called Ice Cat removed her mask and, with a calm expression, began to speak of things long past.
"Ten years ago, my father fell gravely ill. The physician said that the only cure for his sickness was a potion brewed from Ruga grass — a herb that grows only on Mount Iresa. But back then I was powerless, and a trip to that mountain, infamous in our village for how dangerous it was, would have been far too great a risk."
The young man listening quietly cut in. "Mount Iresa, I know the place. I've heard there's even a five-hundred-year-old yeti living up there called Moske."
"That's right. So I agonized over it day after day, until at last, grasping at straws, I poured my heart into a petition and submitted it to the royal palace. I knew full well the plea of some nameless lowborn girl would never be granted. And then—"
She pressed a hand to her chest and closed her eyes.
"—one day, the Prince was standing at my door. I still cannot forget that day. It was as though a brilliant light was radiating from him."
"You're the one who petitioned for your father's medicine?"
"Y-yes, that was me...?"
"We leave. Now."
"Wh-who are you, sir?"
"The Prince. We'll make this a quick trip. Hurry."
"You're going alone? What about soldiers?"
"Alone is more than enough. What more could I possibly need?"
"I spent three days on Mount Iresa with His Highness, searching for the Ruga grass. Along the way we caught and ate wild animals, and he even hunted down Moske itself. He was every bit as strong as a Hero chosen by the heavens — and he was endlessly, achingly kind."
Ice Cat spread her palm toward the floor. From the center of it, a spear of ice burst forth and drove itself into the ground.
"His Highness granted me Moske's heart as a gift. That is how I came to have power of my own."
"He gave you something precious. Did you find the herb?"
"Yes. It grew in great clusters at the summit."
"So that's the connection — I heard you joined our unit through the Prince's introduction."
"I consider it a very special bond. But because of those people—!"
Ice Cat could no longer contain the fury boiling inside her; she clenched her fists and trembled violently. Just then, the basement door opened. The first torturer walked out, stripping off blood-soaked gloves as he came.
"I shoved a twenty-centimeter skewer up his urethra. He's swaying around in ecstasy right now."
"Ah! That was supposed to be mine!"
"Just take it out and shove it back in. Problem solved."
The middle-aged man looked silently at Ice Cat, who was still standing there shaking with rage.
"Go. Your turn."
"Yes, sir."
Ice Cat put on her mask and headed down into the basement. Before long, hideous screams were rising from below once more.
"So how's the recovery of His Highness's remains going?"
The man who had just come up from the basement removed his mask and wiped the sweat from his face — a young man with gentle, drooping eyes.
"Any news come in? I'm curious."
"No idea. We lost contact when we came here."
"How long has it been?"
"Three weeks or so, I'd guess?"
"That's far too long. Try reaching out through some other channel, even if it's unofficial."
"Let's first make sure we finish this business properly. Gradius."
The middle-aged man stubbed out his cigarette with a sigh.
At Keyburton Port — the last place the Prince had passed through — agents dispatched from their homeland had hired locals, and every day more than a thousand people were heading out to sea to search for the Prince's body.
"Gladiator. I'm next."
A powerfully built man rose from his seat. Gladiator looked up at him from his relaxed posture and smiled.
"Very well. Share your story, Helberd."
"His Highness... he treated this loathsome face of mine exactly as he treated everyone else. He came to find me every single day, when I'd wilted away into the shadows..."
When Helberd's tale at last drew to a close, Wind stepped forward.
"When Helberd is finished, please grant me my turn."
"And your story?"
"I bear a holy power, but the truth is I was born and raised in a brothel. His Highness knew that, and still he placed me in an important post. A filthy past makes it nearly impossible to hold a respectable position, and yet..."
When Wind finished, another woman spoke up. Within the team, she went by the name Poison. She was not human at all, but a demon.
"I never got to meet His Highness, so I don't know what he was like. But I want to torture that bastard in there right now. Let me at him already."
Before long, Gladiator rose from his seat.
"So it's my turn at last. Once, I had no heart at all — a demon had stolen mine. It was the Prince who restored it to me."
And so, one after another, they took turns torturing Yoris, until before anyone realized it, the day had slipped away and night had fallen.
Last in line, Poison — her skin a strange shade of purple — pushed open the basement door and stepped out, giggling.
"Every time I used my toxins, he'd screech and squeal and beg to die. It was adorable."
"Good work, Poison."
"Let's just kill him and be done with it. We still have to eat dinner."
"I'll do the killing!"
Gradius darted straight into the basement and shut the door behind him. Gladiator lit one cigarette after another and addressed the group.
"Tomorrow's plan is set: we infiltrate the royal castle itself and abduct the mage."
"Your body reflects all magic, Captain, so it should be simple enough."
Suddenly, a bell installed outside the house rang out. Gladiator went to answer it and found an agent dispatched from their homeland standing there, gasping for breath.
"Hah — hah! I bring Emergency Order No. 2! Hah! Haahh... w-water, please, water!"
The orders the agent carried confirmed that the Prince had been found alive; that the mission was shifting from war footing to surveillance; and that Gladiator's team was to return home in full, at once. A postscript had been added as well: that Her Majesty the Queen, after a long silence, had received a letter from the Prince and was overjoyed beyond measure.
"His Highness is alive...?"
"Good heavens!"
"That's right! That's our Prince for you! I knew he'd make it!"
"Hehe. What a joyful day. Mwah."
"O Heaven above, we give thanks."
From Gladiator on down, every last one of them was overcome with delight. The agent took a long drink of water, relaxed, and wiped the sweat from his brow as he spoke.
"Oh, right — the General had one more thing to add. His Highness is currently staying in this very city, so we're to withdraw swiftly and make absolutely certain nothing we do causes him any harm."
Gladiator's eyes went wide with shock.
"H-he's in this city...?"
Just then, the basement door creaked open. Gradius came out holding one freshly severed arm, tilting his head in puzzlement.
"Hmm? What's everyone staring at me for?"
"Hey, you... don't tell me you killed him?"
"Huh? No, he's still breathing. You told me to cut him up alive, remember?"
"……"
"……"
"If His Highness finds out, we're dead men! Wind! Get in there and reattach it, now!"
"Yes, sir!"
In the small hours of that night, a two-horse carriage galloped down a deserted street, heaved a large sack onto the roadside, and rolled away into the darkness. From inside the sack, Yoris — both his arms perfectly intact — dragged himself out, inch by agonizing inch.
He was weeping.
"God protected me. God spared my life. Thank You... thank You...!"
Yoris had endured a full day of unrelenting horror. His body was unscarred, but his spirit had been shattered. Walking down the street, he would stop short again and again, eyes darting frantically around him. Trembling beneath the terror that he might be abducted once more, he desperately sought out God.
"Save me. Save me, O Lord. Save me, I beg You...!"
As his mind filled to the brim with thoughts of the divine, a wash of white began to spread through the blackness of his heart — as if to prove that he had been a priest all along. The evil thoughts and dark desires within him dwindled away, and from somewhere deep in his chest, the pure dreams of his boyhood and a steadfast, devout faith began to stir back to life.
"I want to return to my old temple. That is the only place for me. The secular world... the secular world terrifies me..."
And so, staggering and unsteady, he trudged back toward the royal castle.