High Elf (2)
Where the Khan had come near was along the path back to the tribe.
“Mmm.”
“Why is this, my Khan?”
“There’s a scent of blood coming from you.”
“Yes. I washed it off with water.”
“Blood’s blood, after all. No matter how hard you try to wipe it away, it never comes out easily.”
“Is it serious?”
“No. I just made it uncomfortable for nothing. Compared to what you’ve done, it’s very mild.”
The Khan brushed her fingers through Vesta’s hair.
“Good. I’ve had a good idea.”
She called for Ahor.
“You called, my Khan?”
“Ahor. You must go ahead of me back to the tribe.”
“Yes, my Khan.”
Ahor offered no protest. She accepted the order at once and waited for the next words.
“Go and tell everyone to prepare for the Shesinje.”
“I will do as you command.”
The Khan turned to the elf women who still carried the scent of blood.
“You’ve all worked hard. Rest now.”
The women cheered at the Khan’s words.
“Hooray—the Shesinje is wonderful! As soon as it’s over, I’m getting Altaia’s su techa!”
“Making it with goat’s milk is a bit of a shame.”
“What can you do? You can’t milk a goat in the middle of the night.”
“It would be funny if you were doing it.”
Everyone was buzzing with excitement.
“This is the first time since you arrived.”
“Yes. I’ve heard of it, but I never thought I’d actually see it.”
It was a custom the Empire had never known.
“...How unexpected.”
The one who had explained the unfamiliar custom of Shesinje to Vesta had, of course, been his master.
*
It had been the time when Vesta had not yet completely abandoned his expectations of the master.
The master had been a man whose mind was quite scattered.
Wherever he went, he stirred up trouble.
[The Imperial Museum is a trash dump! They say the elves had to cut out one of their breasts to shoot arrows!]
He would have liked to leave the master to live as he pleased, like letting a chimney run free, but Vesta could not bring himself to do it.
Although he was mad with elf in his head, the fact that the master had saved Vesta’s life was also true.
Vesta wanted to cure the master’s senility.
“Master.”
“Biso sosok baina, bestia-rius.”
“Ah, really.”
Vesta sighed and replied in elvish.
“You are human, human!”
“How do you know that? You might be a quarter elf, after all.”
“Pull yourself together! Go out and find a proper job!”
“My soul is that of an elf man, yet I was born human because I sinned.”
He was not a person Vesta could talk to.
Vesta pressed his brows together and tried to calm his anger.
“Pull yourself together and listen to me.”
The master looked unimpressed.
He had realized that Vesta was trying to shatter the ‘elf fantasy’ he held.
“The prairie elves are all nomads, aren’t they?”
“Yes. Most of them are.”
“When you live on the prairie, water will always be scarce, won’t it? The land that barely ever rains?”
The master answered indifferently.
“That’s right.”
“If you could use as much water as you wanted, you’d plant crops. Looking at how stubbornly they cling to the hard nomadic life, water must be precious.”
“But so what?”
“Those elves, they probably can’t wash often. Somehow.”
“...”
“This is interesting. The master is secretly tidy, yet he can adapt?”
“Is that the package I brought this time?”
“No, not really. No grand plan, but I suppose you can’t deny it?”
“Heh.”
“...”
“Heh heh heh heh heh heh.”
The master laughed in a very bad mood, a smile that looked more like a ‘crack’ than anything else.
“How pitiful. Too thin-skinned to say anything back.”
Vesta’s brows twitched. How could anyone laugh so heartlessly at a person?
“Water is scarce on the prairie. But.”
The master snapped his fingers.
“I want to bend it.”
“Not rich enough to farm, and you won’t live suffocating under water the way you think.”
“Where do you make water from?”
“From thin air. The elves have spirit magic.”
“Ah.”
“Spirit magic can’t make it rain or cause floods. But surely even the water to wash one’s body?”
It seemed possible to Vesta.
“...Smells of goat.”
“Yes, it does, An-na~”
The master pointed at Vesta with the finger he had been waving.
“And the elves have a custom called Shesinje.”
“Shesinje?”
“To put it plainly, a festival where the body is washed. To wipe away blood and impurity.”
“Why on earth do you know about that?”
“I don’t know the details, but what matters is that they take it seriously enough to have a group bath together.”
“...”
“They are a race that has developed tea culture. That means they are very familiar with the concept of fragrance. They must want that same scent on their own bodies.”
Vesta, at a loss for words, ran a hand through his hair.
No counterargument came to mind.
“...Smells of goat.”
The master sprawled out on the ground and said, with a ‘cracking’ expression.
“Yes. You can’t deny it?”
“Ah.”
*
“Crazy human.”
Vesta chuckled as he remembered his time with the master.
That man, whose cruelty had seemed so unbearable then, now...
“Where have you been, young one?”
Vesta felt strangely nostalgic.
As Vesta recalled the master, he watched the preparations for the Shesinje.
The elves were paying a ‘water tax.’
“We make water with spirit magic and hand over a set amount.”
Orolbai explained kindly as always.
“Do men have to pay too?”
“Yes, but married men are exempt.”
At just the right moment, Altaia—Orolbai’s wife—was seen creating water.
Her young daughters sat beside her, lending their strength.
“Then I suppose I must pay.”
Vesta lifted the leather pouch of water with a lively air.
It was a natural reaction. He had not expected the elves to demand a tax from a human consort.
“Will you accept milk water?”
“Haha. You know, don’t you? That it’s unnecessary.”
“Even if I want to pay, I can’t.”
“The Khan has paid in advance. You may use as much water as you like for the rest of your life.”
“Is that so little?”
“Enormous.”
According to Orolbai, the reason the Shesinje could be held so often was thanks to the Khan.
“Even with spirit magic, water is not endless.”
There were also tribes that found the Shesinje burdensome.
“It is the golden clan’s blessing.”
*
The bathing of the prairie elves was said to involve wiping the body with water-soaked cloth.
The head was dipped in a basin, but given the prairie conditions, a proper hot bath was impossible.
“Use this.”
“What is this?”
Orolbai pulled out a white-powdered object.
When Vesta smelled it, he was surprised by how refreshing the scent was.
“Bha?”
“Another kind. We call it fragrant grass. It’s a wild plant often seen on the prairie.”
“It has such a refreshing smell?”
“Yes. And it creates foam and repels insects.”
“Oh, it really foams up.”
Because it was a race with developed tea culture, they had a keen sense for finding good scents.
“Oh, are you going to do it?”
“I’ll try something called ‘waste’ once.”
“Oh-oh, show me.”
Vesta picked up the water basin and poured it over himself.
Cr—
It was water boiled while adding baked stones.
Orolbai had said the firewood was precious, but Vesta felt the investment was worth it.
“Uhh.”
“Kuu.”
*
“After the Shesinje is over, we drink this tea.”
Vesta sipped the warm milk tea.
“Mmm. It’s rich.”
It had a touch of butter, yet it was rich and filling.
“How was it? The Shesinje?”
“Wonderful. I’ll sleep well tonight.”
It felt as though all the impurities on his body had been washed away.
“There is a reason everyone likes the Shesinje.”
After saying that, Orolbai looked at a corner of the tent and spoke to a man.
“I saw him when we were washing. He wasn’t there.”
“He already washed at home.”
“I see. I have someone I’d like to introduce.”
“Ah, you’re the one... that human boy.”
“Rahan.”
It was not an Imperial name.
“Vesta.”
Rahan was a boy with black hair and tired eyes.
‘He has earrings.’
That was the next sentence.
“You know Asmur? Rahan here is her husband.”
“?”
Vesta’s eyes widened.
*
“So, Orolbai is too domestic. Men should be like this, right? You have to be able to handle them.”
Rahan raised his voice.
‘Confronting that person?’
Vesta had seen Asmur herself stack goblin skulls into a tower.
When Vesta had fought the wolf, Asmur had slaughtered the goblins.
So...
Did this boy in front of him really tame that Asmur?
Vesta looked at Orolbai in disbelief.
The shepherd was watching Rahan with a very warm, almost pitying look, as if truly sorry for him.