Who Am I? (2)
It was a sentence he had written until he grew sick of it, yet for a Transcendent the most important thing of all was to have confidence in oneself. A Transcendent’s power sprang from an unshakable sense of self, from a mindscape that would not waver; confidence itself was a Transcendent’s virtue.
In Merlin’s case that confidence seemed to overflow a little too much and become a problem, but that was beside the point.
Najin had no intention of denying the idea.
He had seen too much clear evidence to deny it. The Helmeted Knight, who had forgotten himself, became a Transcendent again the moment he recalled who he was. Gerd earned his eighth star the instant he became certain his sword had been right.
Self. Certainty. The realization that one had been right all along.
That was the essence of a star, and the essence of a Transcendent. Najin believed so, and because he believed so, a single line carved on a gravestone had drawn his gaze.
“Who… am I?”
A question posed as if to someone else.
The person who wrote the sentence could have simply joined the words—“Who am I?”—yet had deliberately placed a single comma, setting “Who” and “am I?” apart.
What was held inside that comma?
The question rose in Najin’s mind.
“Merlin.”
“Hm? What is it?”
Merlin looked at him with her mouth stuffed full of bread, chewing noisily. Najin gestured at her. The meaning was clear: finish that first, then talk.
“Finished. What?”
“Do you know anything about the Kassel Kingdom?”
The gravestone had read, “Hero of the Kassel Kingdom, Viola Oldina.” A nation that had existed roughly five or six hundred years ago. That was the sum of everything Najin knew about it.
“Just that it fell about five hundred sixty years back?”
“Anything else?”
“I know the fall was because of a dragon. The evil dragon Ladon, I think? Yeah, that sounds right.”
A kingdom destroyed by a dragon.
Najin hummed and stroked his chin.
“Then what’s the reason this Tomb of Stars even exists? Is it just a dream a constellation is having? Some exhibit for constellation dreams with no real purpose?”
“There’s a reason.”
Merlin tore a freshly baked loaf lengthwise. Steam rose in lazy curls from the bread.
“If it were only dreaming, why bother making an entrance? And if it were just for display, how could we interact with other people inside the dream?”
She spoke while chewing.
“A Tomb of Stars—a constellation’s dream—is a place where someone is waiting to be woken. Waiting for someone to wake them from this endless sweet dream, to end the dream, to make a choice for the self that could never choose. Regret, lingering attachment, escape… all of that.”
Merlin’s expression looked faintly bitter as she said it.
“It’s similar to what you’ve been doing all along.”
“Similar how?”
“You gave those knights the endings that satisfied them, didn’t you? Same idea. Gift the dream’s master an ending they can accept—or at least understand—and the dream breaks.”
Of course, she added,
“There is a simpler method. Just smash the whole dream with overwhelming force.”
“That’s a bit…”
“Right? And to pull that off you’d need someone on my level. A Great Constellation with eleven stars…”
“Keep that up and I’ll do it again. Who am I?”
“Ah—okay, okay. No more bragging.”
Having endured the mirror treatment for the past few days, Merlin hastily stopped praising herself. She handed Najin a neatly torn piece of the bread. It tasted surprisingly good.
“Even though it’s a dream, taste, touch—every sense feels completely normal.”
“We call it a dream, but it’s no different from reality. Die here and you really die.”
“So what do we do from here?”
“First we need to find out how this dream flows and what lingering regrets its master is holding onto.”
Their gazes turned naturally toward the Grand Cathedral. At the edge of the structure built atop the cliff sat a woman with long black hair cascading down her back.
Hero of the Kassel Kingdom, Viola Oldina.
She spent most of every day perched in that spot, watching the sun rise and set, wearing an expression so gloomy it made anyone looking at her feel drained.
“She looks completely lifeless.”
“She does. I thought a dream would be a happy one. She doesn’t look happy at all.”
“Not always. Some constellations seal themselves in a tomb to punish themselves.”
“What a bunch of oddballs.”
“…”
“Why the face?”
“It’s nothing. Anyway—aren’t you curious about the reward? What you get for ‘clearing’ a constellation’s dream.”
The abrupt change of subject was obvious, but Najin didn’t press. Merlin had things she didn’t want to talk about too. He went along with it.
“What do they give?”
“A Star Relic.”
Star Relic. Najin had heard the term before. An object forged with a constellation’s starlight melted into it—something comparable to a Masterpiece. In a way, even his own Excalibur was half a Star Relic; it was a sword completed as Arthur’s star.
“The reward is enormous, so the clear won’t be easy. You don’t have to charge in determined to clear it no matter what. If you can’t see a way through, you can just leave. I’ll leave that choice to you.”
Merlin pointed to the stele standing in the center of the city. Touching it was enough to escape the dream.
“…”
A dream one could leave at any time.
Najin’s gaze returned to the Grand Cathedral. Except for the very first moment he had set foot in this dream, Viola had not given him so much as a glance. She simply sat there watching the sun rise and fall.
Those eyes that held not a shred of warmth bothered him for reasons he could not name. For now, though, there was nothing more to learn. Time would have to pass before anything became clear.
“Hmm, hum-hum.”
For a while Najin wandered the city with Merlin.
She walked in a peculiar way—never planting her feet firmly. She bounced lightly with each step, her clothes and blue hair swaying. She moved as if weight itself did not apply to her, and she looked happier than he had ever seen her. Humming under her breath, she tugged him by the arm.
“This! What about this?”
She brought over a poster.
It advertised a play titled Glory to Oldina. Merlin’s eyes sparkled as she pointed at the letters.
“Oldina—that’s the master of this dream, right? Watching this should help us gather information. Pretty good idea, don’t you think?”
It felt less like information gathering and more like Merlin simply wanting to see the play. Najin gave a short laugh and nodded.
“All right. Let’s take a look.”
Watching her smile so brightly at his answer, Najin suddenly thought that Merlin looked young. There was a considerable gap between the Merlin of fairy tales and heroic epics and the blue-haired girl standing in front of him.
A personality that matched her appearance exactly.
She was not the worn, world-weary mage of the Mythic Age who had lived a thousand years; she retained the nature of the girl she looked like. From time to time that side of her left Najin with a strange sense of dissonance.
Who was Merlin?
The great mage of the Mythic Age, one who had witnessed and experienced countless things, a mage worn smooth by life. Yet none of that showed on her. She felt simple, emotional, girlish.
Maybe…
A guess flickered through Najin’s mind, but it only flickered; he did not pursue the possibility any deeper.
“Come on, hurry!”
Merlin, walking ahead, spun around.
Sunlight glittered on her blue hair. She brushed it back and smiled—an utterly clear, unclouded smile.
Najin nodded and let the thought go.
Besides, wasn’t this better?
A mythic-age great mage who had transcended everything and grown detached, versus this lively Merlin who could sometimes be a little ridiculous. If he had to choose one as a guide, he would pick the latter without a second’s hesitation.
“Yeah. Let’s go.”
A play starring Viola Oldina.
They sat in the theater and watched, yet Najin could barely focus on the content. His guide sitting beside him kept stealing his attention.
“Waaah…”
When an actor poured everything into a speech, Merlin’s mouth fell open in pure admiration.
And when the actor playing the evil dragon roared loud enough to shake the seats, she flinched and trembled. Mid-snack she apparently swallowed wrong, coughed, and then started hiccupping; Najin could no longer hold back his laughter.
“Hic—don’t, hic—laugh. I said don’t laugh.”
“Drink some water. Here.”
He patted her back and handed her the cup. She gulped it down and, as if nothing had happened, focused on the play again.
“Whoa, that was really good, right? The acting was solid. I’m not even that into theater, but this was definitely…”
Even after the play ended, Merlin sat in a tea house and talked about it for ages, spreading her arms wide to mimic the actors, chattering without pause.
“Merlin.”
“Yeah? What?”
“Are you enjoying yourself?”
“Out of nowhere?”
“Just… you look happy.”
“Of course I am. How long has it been since I could move a body like this? How long since I could mix with people and talk?”
How long has it been? Najin asked.
“A thousand years.”
“…”
“Ah—well, I did travel with you… but even then I didn’t have a body, right? That was a long way from actually ‘walking’ with you. I was just riding along inside you.”
“True.”
“Honestly, that’s what I regret most. Sometimes I imagine it, you know? What if I hadn’t been a constellation or a great mage—what if I’d just been a mage starting out on a journey?”
Merlin closed her eyes as if picturing it.
“I’m in Cambria looking for a swordsman to partner with. From ancient times, mages and swordsmen have always been a pair. They cover each other’s weaknesses. So I’m searching for an exceptional swordsman… and then I run into you by chance.”
“And then?”
“And then I hire you. At first we’d bicker, right? ‘That’s not how you do it,’ ‘You should do it this way.’ But we’d still grumble and adjust to each other.”
That’s how the journey would go.
Together, slowly, step by step.
“Your growth is insanely fast, but I wouldn’t fall that far behind either. I hit the sixth circle around nineteen myself. I might even pull ahead.”
“Could be.”
“Yeah. So we’d grow together. Fight strong enemies, explore unknown lands. Sometimes I’d push you forward, and sometimes you’d pull me along…”
Together, side by side, growing as they moved ahead.
Merlin opened her eyes after laying out the story.
“That’s what I really regret.”
Her gaze dropped.
“I don’t get to walk beside you. I have to wait for you at that distant final destination. My role isn’t to walk with you—it’s to guide you there. I hate that. I really do.”
So that was why she looked so bright now.
Najin thought he understood a little. It wasn’t simply because she had a body. It was because she had been brought down to the same level as him—because she was standing beside him instead of looking down from above—and that made her happy.
“What’s there to regret?”
“Hm?”
Najin shrugged.
“I’ll reach where you are soon enough. You know I’ve only been traveling for less than two years, right?”
“That’s… true?”
“Who am I?”
The corner of Najin’s mouth lifted.
“Youngest four-star. Youngest Sword Seeker. Youngest Free Knight. And…”
“Stop—please stop that already…!”
Merlin’s face flushed red with secondhand embarrassment as she reached to cover his mouth, but Najin caught her wrist and finished the sentence.
“Youngest to enter Kamran, youngest to slay a black dragon, youngest to slay a witch—basically anything with ‘youngest’ attached, I’m going to take it all. Not a single one left behind.”
Merlin stared at him.
Najin met her eyes and smiled.
“You said you’d wait at the destination. What’s a destination about that place? That’s King Arthur’s destination, not mine.”
“Hmph.”
Merlin snorted. But it wasn’t the contemptuous snort from when they first met; it was the kind that said, all right, keep talking.
“The place you’re waiting isn’t a destination—it’s a turning point. The turning point where I’ve completely surpassed Arthur. From there we just go together. What’s the problem?”
“Together? Meaning… side by side?”
“Yeah. Side by side.”
Najin said it while looking at her.
By now she should have muttered, “You sure talk a good game,” but today no such answer came.
“…”
Merlin simply stared at him.
Her eyes, always so clear, looked a little unfocused in that moment—as if she were entranced, or dazed.
“Merlin?”
“Hm? Ah—yeah. Yeah. Right.”
Only when he called her name did she snap back. She hurriedly averted her gaze. Her ears had turned just a little red. Najin tilted his head.
“What’s wrong?”
“N-nothing. It’s nothing.”
Why is she suddenly like this?
Watching Merlin hide her mouth and refuse to meet his eyes, Najin could only tilt his head again. Because she was no longer inside his mindscape, he had no way of knowing what emotion she was feeling or what she was thinking.
Dong.
While he was still wondering,
Dong, dooong, dong…
Bell tones began to roll across the city. By the time the peals that started from the Grand Cathedral had circled the whole city once,
a shadow fell over the entire Kassel Kingdom.
It was not an artificial shadow woven from demonic authority, magic, or Mystery. It was simply the shadow cast when something enormous blocked the sun. Najin and Merlin looked up at the sky as if by instinct.
In the distant past they had been called the masters of the heavens.
A dragon was there.
The evil dragon that cast its shadow over the kingdom roared.