Chapter 4
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 4
Before long, the harvest season passed and winter arrived. In the grand scheme of things, the changing of seasons was much like a human life.
Everyone has a time of growth, a time to bloom, a time to ripen, and eventually, a time to grow cold.
Rickert was currently in a transitional season of his own. Though it was only the beginning, a change was still a change.
Deep in the pitch-black night, a light burned in a corner of the Caldebern estate in Stormherz. From a distance, the faint glow could be seen leaking from two windows.
Shattering the silence, a woman’s pain-filled screams echoed through the manor.
“Aaaaargh! Urgh…”
In the hallway outside the delivery room, Grout paced restlessly in his nightclothes, rubbing his chin. By his side, Abelich stood silently, keeping watch.
At the far end of the hall, two boys stood in the shadows, holding hands as they observed the scene. They were Vilter and Rickert.
In an era of high maternal and infant mortality, bringing a new life into the world was a gamble with death itself.
Vilter’s face was clouded with worry, though he himself couldn’t pinpoint the true source of his unease. He wasn’t sure if he was holding his younger brother’s hand to comfort him, or to seek comfort for himself.
The midwife hurried back and forth, carrying basin after basin of bloody water. Then, finally, a world-shattering cry burst forth.
“Wahhh! Wahhh!”
At that moment, even the stoic Abelich couldn’t hide his emotion. Unable to enter the room, he called out from the hallway.
“Someone, speak!”
A moment later, the midwife emerged, holding a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes, its umbilical cord now cut.
“Congratulations, my lord. It is a young master. The lady is healthy as well.”
A young master. A son.
Vilter felt as though the inevitable had finally arrived. It was the heavy, sinking feeling of a stone being laid upon your chest, the dread of something you wished to avoid finally coming to pass.
In contrast, Abelich and Grout’s faces lit up with joy.
“Ricky, we’re finished now,” Vilter murmured.
“No,” Rickert replied. “It’s a beginning.”
“Huh?”
“For the baby, for us, and for our eldest brother. Father has become a grandfather, and Grout has become a father. We’ve become uncles. It’s fascinating, really.”
Vilter turned his head and stared blankly at Rickert.
“Aren’t you scared? About having to leave home?”
“I’ll miss it, but I don’t think I’m afraid.”
“…You’re better than me. I always thought you were just a kid. Then again, catching that massive boar, standing up to Father… you do have some backbone.”
“And Billy is smart,” Rickert added simply.
A small chuckle escaped Vilter. He reached out and roughly ruffled Rickert’s hair. Though Vilter spoke sharply to almost everyone, he hadn’t always been that way. And despite their four-year age gap, he had always treated Rickert as an equal, from childhood until now.
Because of this, Rickert saw Vilter less as an older brother and more as a friend his own age.
“Want to sleep in my room tonight? It’s been a while,” Vilter asked.
“Why? Are you scared?”
“Don’t get cocky. Just go grab your pillow.”
Rickert laughed and went to his room to fetch his pillow. Lying under the same blanket, they giggled like mischievous children without needing to say a word. Though the baby’s lusty cries echoed from outside, Vilter and Rickert found a sense of peace in their own private world.
They talked about embarrassing moments, funny stories, and the days when their mother was still alive—sharing the collective memories they had built in this home.
As time passed, the commotion outside quieted down. Before they knew it, both had drifted off to sleep.
With the birth of the eldest son’s eldest son, the succession of Stormherz was now set in stone. That also meant the spare parts were no longer needed.
It wasn’t just a matter of being unnecessary; a successor’s brothers were seeds that could sprout into future threats. Even if they did nothing, even if they simply existed, that was the nature of noble families.
Though no one explicitly made them feel unwelcome, it was inevitable that Abelich’s attention as lord would shift entirely to his grandson. It wasn’t just Abelich; the entire household and all the villagers were the same.
Rickert felt the shift in the smallest details. It was as if he was being neglected. Sometimes, no one even bothered to check if he had eaten. He now needed permission just to see his own nephew. A distance had grown between him and his family.
Despite the winter cold, the entire manor buzzed with life, yet Vilter and Rickert felt utterly excluded from the festive atmosphere. From the servants’ perspective, showing interest in the younger sons could stir up trouble or get them on the bad side of the future lord. It was safer to be cautious.
As the days of isolation dragged on, a month passed. The winter cold was at its peak when Abelich, the lord, summoned Vilter and Rickert. He called his two sons to a pond a short distance from the manor.
Walking there, both boys sensed that their father was about to tell them something important.
When they arrived, they found the pond frozen solid. The surrounding trees had shed their leaves, exposing bare, skeletal branches against a dull gray sky. Clad in a thick fur coat with a cloak draped over it, their father stood gazing at the frozen surface.
Vilter and Rickert approached him hesitantly.
“You called for us?” Vilter asked.
Their father remained silent for a long time, staring at the pond as if he hadn't heard. White puffs of breath escaped his mouth with every sigh. Then, he spoke abruptly, as if tossing the words out.
“Someone is coming from the main house.”
The “main house” was the seat of the Count Caldebern family. The Caldeberns of Stormherz had branched off during their great-grandfather’s generation, back when partible inheritance was common. In a noble family, there could only be one head, and that head decided the fate of all its members—their education, their future, their marriage, even their death.
Strictly speaking, Abelich was not the head of the Caldebern family. He was merely the lord and patriarch of Stormherz. The main house rarely interfered, but that had changed. Grout’s wife was from the main house. The marriage meant the couple shared the same surname, a complete integration. Kin of the same root, once branched, were now merging back together.
Therefore, even setting aside the tradition of primogeniture, Grout’s son had to inherit the fief. All these machinations were subtly pushing the non-firstborn sons out.
“The person coming from the main house is a doctor who studied at the famous Hantz University. He will help determine your futures. This is the greatest kindness I can offer you as a father.”
In truth, it was an immense kindness. Many younger sons were simply dumped in distant monasteries without a second thought. Yet, Vilter and Rickert did not look pleased. Rickert, however, merely blew on his cold hands, looking as thoughtless as ever.
A faint smile touched Abelich’s lips at the sight. He gently stroked Rickert’s head.
“Let me hold you. Billy, you come here too.”
“Pardon?”
Abelich pulled his bewildered sons close, wrapping them inside his cloak. Though the boys felt incredibly awkward, they could clearly feel his warmth—a different feeling from their mother’s embrace.
After a moment, Abelich unclasped his cloak and draped it over his two sons. Wrapped together, Vilter and Rickert looked like a cute, two-headed monster.
Abelich sat on a nearby rock and looked back at the pond.
“The first time I went to battle, I was fourteen. I followed my father and older brother. It was freezing cold, just like now. We were tasked with leading a detachment to flank the enemy. But as we moved through the forest, arrows rained down on us. By the time I regained my senses, I had fled. Ashamed, I forced myself back to the battlefield. Wounded men and corpses were scattered everywhere. Then, I saw my father running toward me, carrying my brother—bleeding from the neck—on his back.”
Abelich was sharing a story he had never told them. Listening to it while shivering in the cold felt incredibly strange, their hearts fluttering with a mix of excitement and a heavy sense of burden. Their father, always so proud and indifferent, seemed somehow diminished.
“‘You coward. Your brother died because of you. Listen carefully. I am going to seek revenge. You must retrieve the bodies and carry on the family line. I will wait for you in the afterlife.’ …Those were the last words my father ever spoke to me.”
As if still feeling the shame, Abelich bowed his head. Fleeing the battlefield was a grave mistake, but those were incredibly harsh words—harsh enough to haunt a man for the rest of his life. How many people could remain composed in the face of death, especially in their first battle? Yet, a noble was expected to stand and fight. Upholding one’s honor was a brutal endeavor.
Vilter could barely breathe in the heavy atmosphere. He was still too young to fully understand his father, so he simply listened.
“Billy, Ricky. Make me one promise,” Abelich said, looking back at his sons. “If you must resent anyone, resent me. Do not resent your older brother.”
Given the atmosphere, they had no choice but to agree. This time, however, it didn’t feel like merely obeying an order.
“Yes, Father. I understand. I promise,” Vilter answered first, his expression grave.
When Abelich turned to Rickert, the boy rolled his large eyes, his cheeks flushed from the cold.
“I don’t resent anyone. Not you, Father, and not Grout. I never will. There’s no need for a promise, but if you need my word to put your mind at ease, I’ll gladly give it.”
Abelich smiled faintly once more, reaching out to pat his sons’ heads.
“I was never as good at fighting as my father, and I fell short of my older brother in every way. But I did my absolute best not to bring shame upon my family. I strove for it my entire life. Since that first battle, I have never once fled, and I have always fought at the very front. In truth, I wasn't brave; I was simply terrified of failing. You might not understand this now, but inheriting a fief is not as grand as it seems.”
Hearing their father speak to them like this was deeply moving.
Rickert seemed to ponder for a moment before speaking. “Everyone is a coward sometimes. I think what matters is what you choose to do after. Depending on that choice, you either become a brave person or you remain a coward. You are a brave knight, Father. I’m sure Grandfather would be proud. He probably only said those things because he was overwhelmed. Please don’t let it weigh on your heart so much.”
Abelich’s eyes widened. He had always known Rickert was an extraordinary child, but he hadn’t realized he possessed such depth.
“Hey, don’t overstep,” Vilter scolded Rickert, feeling embarrassed on his behalf.
“Did I overstep?”
“No, it’s fine,” Abelich said, a gentle smile on his face. “I think Ricky is right. Yes… I hope that is the case.”
Today, he seemed to have resolved to be nothing but kind. Putting aside his roles as patriarch and lord, he was interacting with them purely as a father.
“Billy, you grasp things quickly, but you lose interest just as fast. If you develop patience and perseverance, you can achieve anything you set your mind to.”
It was the first time Vilter had ever received praise from his father. He was watching me all along, he thought, his heart racing with pure joy.
Abelich then turned his gaze to Rickert, studying him for a long moment before he spoke.
“Ricky, you are an extraordinary child. Perhaps you possess not just talent, but a truly rare genius. That is precisely what worries me. I have seen excessive talent become a poison many times. You do not need to be overly humble, but you must guard against arrogance. I hope you can use your gifts to elevate our family’s name and to save yourself. Who knows? Perhaps you will found a new house, just like our ancestor, the heroic knight Caldebert. If that day comes, I would be overjoyed.”
“Does elevating the family’s name mean I should achieve great deeds in battle?”
“No. It means acting honorably in everything you do. Do not lie, act with integrity, and stay away from unrighteousness. Some might call it foolish, but that is the path to bringing glory to yourself and honor to our family.”
Rickert pondered this deeply before replying, “That sounds easy enough. I’ve never been good at lying anyway.”
“Hey, stop being so cheeky,” Vilter frowned.
But Abelich simply burst into a hearty laugh. “Hahaha! Indeed. I have never once seen you tell a lie, Ricky. Hahaha!”
Watching their father laugh so freely, the boys felt a sense of wonder. It was the first time they had ever seen it. So Father can laugh like that, too.
Abelich stood up and led his two sons back toward the manor. They followed closely behind, still wrapped together in his cloak.
From that day on, Abelich treated Vilter and Rickert with genuine warmth. Grout and his wife were kind as well. As if the final piece of a puzzle had fallen into place, Vilter and Rickert began to sincerely pray for their nephew to grow up healthy and strong.
It might have looked like the final kindness shown to a terminally ill patient, but even so, it was a blessing. There were plenty of noble houses that would cast younger sons out without a shred of warmth.
Perfection was relative. At the very least, Rickert believed he had a perfect father, perfect brothers, a perfect sister-in-law, and a perfect nephew.
Perhaps because his previous life had been shrouded in absolute darkness, Rickert knew how to cherish even the smallest glimmer of light. That light was the consideration, the memories, and the affection he received from his family. They were like the stars he used to gaze up at endlessly during his days as a shepherd.
Instead of fire, steel, blood, and death, his mother’s embrace, his brotherly bond, and his father’s recognition now shone like starlight in Rickert’s heart.
Arc 1 – Memories of Days Gone By. End.