The Things That Approach (8)
"I skipped the middle of the story, didn't I?" Ran's voice carried the gentle weight of memory. "Your grandfather was a knight, yet also a devout servant of God. For a man like him, the truth that his wife Leona was a demon made it nearly impossible to accept that she had loved him with her whole heart. He spent more than a decade denying the suspicions, rejecting them outright, and answering them only with rage..."
Ran fell silent. No emotion showed on her face. She simply closed her eyes. Only after a long moment did she open them again. Marei found himself dreaming once more inside those golden irises that looked as if they had been poured from molten gold on the verge of shattering.
The man who had been a devout servant of God, the pride of his people, a lord and a knight, had taken up his cherished sword the moment he learned the truth. He went to his wife's chamber. She remained eternally beautiful while he aged, and in her arms wriggled the tiny life they had made together. He had entered that room intending to cut her throat in a single stroke, but he was also a father. The sight of the small bundle and the wife he had truly loved caused his fury and sense of betrayal to shrink back, cowering. The knight set his sword before her and asked that they die together.
He called her name—Leona—knelt, and wept before her. Seeing her husband, who had loved her so completely, beg her to die with him, Leona bit her lip until it bled. The little bundle squirming in her arms told her exactly why he had spoken those words. She wept without a sound, and the knight remained on his knees, crying with her through what might have been hours, waiting for her to speak again.
"Let's run away together."
That was what his grandmother—what Leona—had said. The knight shook his head. Running would do no good. The churches had already produced too much evidence; it would drag them both to their deaths. No matter how far or how often they fled, the relentless executioners would find them. If it had to end, then this was the proper way. He was Leona's husband, but he was also the lord of the North. If he ran, the demon hunters would never leave his lands untouched. Everything would be burned. The curse would fall on the humble fields his people had scraped a living from, soil that had never been rich but had been theirs. That was why he had chosen death—for himself, for the demon who was his wife, and for the daughter who carried demon blood.
The knight waited an entire day. Then, as Leona sat feeding the child in silence, he raised the blade high above her head…
"Enough. A talent you cannot control will only destroy you in the end."
Ran's voice pulled Marei from the trembling memory that did not feel like his own. What had he just witnessed? Tears poured down his cheeks without end. A wave of incomprehensible emotion crashed over him; he wiped his eyes, drew a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Only then did he realize Ran was watching him with an expressionless face.
"What… what did I just see?"
"What I saw. And what the earth itself saw."
Her words made little sense to him. Marei rummaged through his mind, trying to erase the foreign memories one by one. After several minutes of deliberate forgetting, the images faded into something faint and distant. Even the violent surge of emotion that had threatened to become sobbing grew dim.
"You may be even more gifted than Mari… Whether that is an auspicious sign or an ill one, I cannot say."
"More than Mother?"
"It is too viscous to be called empathy, too emotional to be called understanding. There is no proper word for that sense which most people never possess—and which, in this age, only you seem to have. In the past only a handful ever manifested it, so few that it never even earned a name."
Something that was neither empathy nor understanding. Marei himself could not have put the experience into words. He had simply seen, heard, felt, and remembered. Then it had faded just as quickly.
"If you learn to control even one or two aspects, it will become a great power for you. But if you dislike the idea, I will not force you to study it. There are many things in this world that are better left unknown…"
Ran offered a bittersweet smile. Her thick golden eyebrows stayed perfectly in place, yet her lips twisted as though moving against her will. The two hands resting on her knees gripped each other tightly, as if afraid of letting go.
You don't have to learn it. It's better not to know.
It seemed Ran was hoping he would refuse. Yet the mention of his mother's ability sparked curiosity, and he could not suppress his need to understand the scene he had just witnessed.
"I want to learn it."
With no clear goal for how he would use the power, the young boy stubbornly insisted. Ran studied his face for a long time before finally nodding.
"Very well. We will take it slowly."
She rose without touching the floor, as though drawn upward by some invisible force. She had been kneeling only a moment earlier; the motion was so natural it filled Marei with a faint fear. They had been sitting so close that when she took a single step, her face reached his chest. A small hand stretched out, caught the back of his neck, and gently drew him closer.
"Sweet child, let me see your face."
They gazed at each other. The boy stared into her golden eyes for a moment, trying to understand what she meant by "face," then slowly removed his eyepatch.
"……So you really were there after all. ■■■. Wait… you… what… ugh…!"
Watching the metaphysical patterns that rose and corrected themselves in his left eye, Ran muttered bitterly. Marei never caught the final word she spoke. It sounded less like language and more like a sob. Then her body went limp.
Fearing she would collapse, Marei hurriedly caught her. Ran let out a long, long, impossibly long breath. She leaned her cheek against his chest, then slowly—very slowly—pulled away.
"Stop… stop…!"
She mumbled words that made no sense and placed both hands on his chest, pushing him away with deliberate strength. Marei looked down at her in confusion. Her mouth worked as though trying to speak, but no clear words emerged. Tears welled in her golden eyes until she looked on the verge of breaking into sobs. With fists clenched tightly inside her long sleeves, she backed away from him step by step.
"Why would you show me something like…"
"Lady Ran?"
At the sound of her name she staggered violently, then took one stumbling step forward to regain balance. Her mouth hung open, tongue extended, as she drew ragged breaths.
"Today… today does not seem like the right day… Come back another time. Yes, another time."
"What? Lady Ran?"
Marei followed each of her retreating steps with one of his own. Their strange dance of maintained distance ended only when her back met the wall. Still refusing to look at his face, Ran turned her gaze aside with obvious effort. Her hands clutched the front of her white robe so tightly the fabric crumpled. She trembled. Thick saliva trailed from her lips in long strands, dripping to the floor, while her body jerked in violent spasms.
Alarmed by the sudden fit, Marei took another worried step toward her and called her name again.
"Lady Ran?"
She shook her head. Then, without a backward glance, she dashed across the room, flung the door open, and disappeared.
Marei chased after her, but when he opened the door there was only the outside of the shrine. No matter how many times he tried, the view beyond the threshold remained the exterior. Even though the door should have led inward, every attempt deposited him back outside. After passing through the doorway several times and still finding himself unable to re-enter, Marei understood it was some form of spatial magic—whether a mage's trick or a shamanic ward. He called Ran's name repeatedly, but remembering her request to return another day, he finally followed the rows of red pillars back down to Valter School.
Stories of his mother, of his grandmother, the name Liris that sounded somehow familiar, Ran who had introduced herself as the demon god, and Loren whom he had met for the first time today—all of it filled his head to bursting. The way Ran had reacted upon seeing his left eye seemed to overlap, somehow, with how Labella and the others sometimes behaved. Once that thought took root, other details he had tried not to notice began surfacing one by one from memory.
The way the small Ran had worn robes far too large for her, so that every slight movement revealed glimpses of pink undergarments. The way her young, immature voice had spoken in such an archaic manner. The strange blend he sensed in her—of Philia's fresh innocence overlaid with Loren's ripe maturity…
Marei let out a heavy sigh and forced the thoughts to stop. What was he doing, entertaining such ideas about his mother's teacher? The guilt that followed felt like shadows sliding around his throat, tightening. The realization that his body could feel both childish protectiveness and adult lust toward a figure who looked like an adult woman shrunk down to child-size left him deeply conflicted. Ever since he had first become aroused by Philia's body, his sense of ethics had begun to blur. Of course he could rationalize excitement toward a girl his own apparent age, but becoming excited by Ran—whose head barely reached his chest—felt unforgivable.
These self-recriminations chased him as he walked the garden path without direction. Then he caught sight of a girl's back that had grown increasingly familiar, and a wave of genuine relief washed over him.
"Melan! Melan!"
Muerangde turned at the sound of her name. She glanced at Marei's face, frowned slightly, then—remembering something—widened her eyes and gave a small wave.
"Have you been well?"
"…Yes."
She clutched the basket tightly with both hands. The beast-like eyes and golden hair reminded him of Ran. The girl before him seemed to be waiting for him to speak. Her slightly trembling gaze looked less relaxed than distinctly nervous.
"What did you do during the duchy's founding festival, Melan? I heard you were from the duchy—did you return to your family estate?"
"…I stayed in Valter. I don't like home very much."
"Ah, I'm sorry… I didn't mean…"
At his sudden apology Muerangde let out a small laugh. Though her hands still gripped the basket, she dipped her head and smiled, and Marei found himself smiling with her.
"The way you said that makes me think you really did go to the duchy?"
"Ah, yes. It was my first time, and it was incredible. The enormous clock tower, the canals…"
He did not mention Philia, but he poured out stories of everything he had seen and tasted there. Muerangde seemed surprisingly familiar with the duchy's capital; she asked questions at intervals, and Marei kept talking without pause.
"You must have had an excellent guide. Everyone knows the tourist spots the duchy advertises, but the truly wonderful places are ones most people never discover."
Muerangde sat on a tree stump wide enough for two or three people, swinging her feet back and forth. Marei, now seated beside her, had to make a conscious effort not to think of Philia every time the words "good guide" were spoken.
"I do want to go back someday. If we ever travel there together, I'll show you the better places. I know the geography far better than any official guide…"
As Marei explained excitedly, waving his hands, Muerangde pouted—whether from interest or a touch of rivalry, he couldn't tell. He could only answer with a polite "Yes, yes, I'd appreciate that."
"Where are you headed?"
"There are some children who follow me around. This is for them…"
When she carefully lifted the basket to her chest, she looked so much like a small animal that Marei felt an overwhelming urge to pull her into his arms.
"May I help?"
"Well… it doesn't matter, I suppose…"
At her awkwardly positive reply, Marei gently took one side of the basket. Muerangde subtly shifted her grip, letting him share the load. Though they carried it together, the weight was enough to make one stagger if they relaxed even slightly; Marei gripped it with tense concentration.
"Not heavy?"
"…It is heavy."
Muerangde covered her mouth and giggled as though this were the most amusing thing in the world.
"Humans and ordinary vampires are physically weak… You don't have to push yourself."
"Just a little longer… I'll carry it with you."
"Do as you like." Her eyes curved into long, smiling crescents.
By the time his arms had gone almost numb, Muerangde stopped walking. She clapped her hands twice, and animals began emerging from the underbrush one by one.
"Do you like animals, Muerangde?"
"I think they're delicious."
She answered with perfect seriousness while naturally catching the rabbit that charged at her and butted its head against her chest. Her red eyes were utterly sincere. Marei could only stare at her in blank silence, unable to find any reply.