Old Friends, Heavy Truths
A week had passed in the blink of an eye. Word arrived from the imperial capital: his father would finally be marching to war.
The Polska Empire had laid bare the Dwyat Empire's wicked machinations before the whole continent. Far from showing remorse for igniting the Ten-Year War, Emperor Royan had attempted vengeance — and the scheme had roused the fury of countless people across the land.
Perhaps that was why, even before the Empire had issued a formal call for aid, reinforcements came flooding in from every direction, all clamoring to fight alongside Duke Randert. Along with them poured in opinions from every nation that this was the moment to put an end, once and for all, to the Dwyat Empire that had shattered the continent's peace.
They had their justification. Raising a blade against the Crown Prince of the Polska Empire and the son of Duke Randert was a sin that could only be paid for in war.
A united army formed around Duke Randert. Word arrived that the Dwyat Empire, in turn, had mobilized for total defense.
But no one entertained the thought that the Duke might lose. Everyone was so certain of a triumphant victory that they would have staked their entire fortune on it.
That was why Hamilton's festival spirit had never been brighter. The rain had merely stopped, and yet the faces of the territory's people bloomed wide open.
There was work stacked to the mountains — repairing damaged houses, tilling the fields — but everyone shouldered the toil gladly. There wasn't a moment to spare for idleness; the crops had to go in before winter arrived.
Bayul, for his part, made his rounds of the territory with the spirits at his side, tending to all manner of things. Watching the city settle into order, little by little, filled him with a pride he could hardly contain. He must have thought, dozens — no, hundreds — of times a day, just how glad he was to have become a Spirit User.
"Ahh! Young Master, come smell this laundry! It's been such a long time since I got to smell this in Hamilton!"
Rita paused mid-fold and brought the washing over to him. Dried stiff in the sunshine, it certainly did smell different than usual.
"It really does. This is something you could only get in Carrington."
"Right? Hehe, Hamilton's finally turned a corner! I was a little worried these past few days, but I don't think I need to worry anymore!"
Every morning, waking up and checking the sky first thing had practically become the signal that started Rita's day. Old habits die hard — a city without rain still felt strange to her at times. It would probably take a while longer to adjust.
"Oh, and today Hosyu's offering a special dish at the inn! Something she's never shown anyone before. And she's decided to teach it to Bar and me!"
"Even to Bar?"
"Yes, I think she felt a bit sorry for him. Death's been awfully hard on him lately, you see."
As if you're any gentler yourself, Rita. But Bayul couldn't quite bring himself to say it aloud.
"I feel awful seeing Bar these days. I mean, it's one thing to have no talent for cooking, but how does he not improve even a little? I think I'll have to go make an offering again soon."
"The Temple of War this time, then?"
There was no Temple of Despair in Hamilton, so that was the only place to go.
"Coming and going like that, the gods won't even notice, will they?"
"Heh, someone's a bit concerned, aren't they?"
"Of course. To the gods, I'd practically be a traitor. Even I wouldn't like that."
"There's no need to think of it as betrayal. Any god you pray to, you believe in all the same. She'll understand."
"You think so? It'll be all right, then?"
"Rita's prayers will have to carry the day again."
Only then could Bar keep his remaining arm safe from harm. Thank goodness the festival had put out a mountain of food and Death was in a somewhat better mood — otherwise there'd have been blood spilled already.
"Just leave it to me! I'll turn Bar into the finest chef there is, come hell or high water!"
The change that had come over Rita since the rainy season ended was an overflow of positivity and drive. She threw herself above and beyond into everything she did — enough that it occasionally left Bayul at a loss.
"Oh, by the way, Young Master. Did you hear?"
"Hmm? What?"
"The day before the rain stopped, around evening? They say the raindrops stopped in midair for just a moment! Like this — right there, in front of their eyes!"
Rita cupped both hands into a round and held them up before her own face.
"Do you believe that, Young Master? How could rain just freeze in the air like that? That's impossible, isn't it?"
"...Right. That does sound a little far-fetched."
"But what's even more ridiculous is that it wasn't just one or two people who saw it! Apparently Aeslin saw it too! I was too busy teaching Bar to cook in the kitchen at the time — it kills me that I missed it!"
How could there possibly be so much laundry? Through the entire sorting, Rita's chatter never once let up.
"This is just my own theory, mind you. But maybe that was a sign the rain was going to stop?"
"...A sign?"
"Yes! The sky must have realized it had gone too far. Honestly, look how much rain it dumped on Hamilton all this time! It clearly changed its mind halfway through!"
"Haha, I suppose that could be it."
The truth, of course, was that he had stopped the rain with his own power — and Bayul was beginning to worry, just a little, about how Rita would react when she found out someday.
She wouldn't fly into a rage over the lie... would she?
It seemed wise to make himself scarce before she could build an even bigger story on top of it.
"Young Master Bayul, you have visitors."
Just then, Head Butler Cunning arrived to announce the guests.
"Visitors? For me? I'm not expecting anyone."
"Go and see. I believe they are people the Young Master will be very glad to see."
'People?'
That meant more than one guest.
"See, Young Master! Didn't I tell you that once the rainy season ended, welcome guests would come? Wasn't I right?"
Just a coincidence, surely.
But Bayul spared himself the trouble of arguing and hurried outside. Honestly, he was quite curious who it could be.
"Bayul!"
"...Aidan?"
Of all people, it was Aidan who had come to Hamilton. The boy waved with all his might in greeting. And beside him stood Eli, Logan, and Quinn as well.
"What brings you all to Hamilton? Without so much as a message, and all four of you at once?"
Perhaps it was the shock of his friends' completely unexpected appearance — Bayul fired off questions before he'd even remembered to greet them.
"Hey! Aren't you even happy to see us?"
"Funny, I don't detect the slightest hint of joy."
"Shall we just head back home? Seems like a wasted trip."
"Ah! No, no! I was just so surprised my head went blank, that's all. I'm glad! Of course I'm glad! If I hurt your feelings, I'm sorry. Really!"
Only after Aidan and Eli's one-two punch of complaints did Bayul realize how rude he'd been, and he hurried his friends inside. However startled he'd been, welcoming them warmly should have come first. Regret came flooding in a beat too late.
"You brat, that's more like it. So this is Hamilton, where you were born and raised? The castle's enormous!"
"It's nothing next to my lair, but for what it is, it's passably splendid."
"Aren't you running your mouth a bit too much lately, now that you've come out about what you are? Whatever you may be, you're still a weekend laborer, pal."
Eli was still struggling heroically(?) to maintain his persona of the poor, hardworking model student. Ever since his identity as a dragon had come to light, however, he no longer bothered to weigh his words. As a result, nearly every sentence out of his mouth was such insufferable bragging that one rarely resisted the urge to knock his teeth in.
"Oh my! The young masters are here!"
Rita, arms full of laundry, spotted the friends and bowed deeply in greeting.
"Rita! Even better running into you here! How have you been?"
"Very well, thank you! The rainy season's over, after all! You all saw it on the way, didn't you? The weather's gloriously sunny! I can't even remember the last time we had weather like this!"
At those words, all four friends turned in unison to look at Bayul.
'That was you, wasn't it?'
'Bayul. You did that, didn't you?'
'Did Innocent really grow that strong?'
Bayul gave a small nod and admitted it. He found himself quietly grateful that he could show his friends the clear skies of his homeland instead of its old perpetual gloom.
"What are you all doing here?"
Death, who had just finished cleaning and was coming down the stairs, froze at the sight of the friends. And then his expression twisted on the spot.
"I heard Hosyu's making a special dish at the inn today. Don't tell me that's because of you people?"
"A special dish?"
"That's right! Her trump-card recipe, one she's never once revealed until now!"
When Death barked at them, unable to hold back the rising irritation, Rita came sprinting over and smacked him across the back.
Whack!
"Death! What kind of manners are those, speaking that way to the Young Master's friends? These people came all this way to see him. Apologize this instant!"
"You want me to apologize? Do you know who's the one getting steamed right now?"
"I saw the whole thing from right here! You blew up at them out of nowhere, without so much as a greeting!"
"Well, excuse me for suddenly having four whole extra mouths to feed!"
"You eat more by yourself than all four young masters combined! I don't care how uneducated you are, a person ought to have some shred of decency!"
"Rita, that's enough. We're fine."
Everyone knew perfectly well how obsessed Death was with food. Judging by the situation, something special was indeed on the menu today — and their only sin was having arrived on precisely the wrong day.
"You seem busy with the laundry, so hurry along. Keep standing there and the dust will pile up."
Before a bigger rift could open, Aidan swiftly steered Rita away by the shoulders. Rita shot Death one last look of reproach, but thankfully gave up before long, left a parting greeting with the group, and vanished.
"And Death — we're not interested in that food, so you can relax."
"I had no intention of sharing a table with demon scum in the first place."
"Good. Then keep it that way. I mean it."
Death swept the group with a murderous once-over, wheeled around, and stalked off.
"The parlor is this way."
With friends visiting, it was high time he showed them proper hospitality. Cunning, evidently having issued instructions in the meantime, had already laid out an lavish spread of tea and sweets on the table.
"We heard the news that Duke Randert is marching to war. Are you okay, Bayul?"
"Wait, is that why you came all the way here? Of course I'm fine. And here I was wondering what could bring all four of you to my doorstep. You were worried about me, huh? Thank you."
These were the only friends he had. To have companions who thought of him this much — no matter how many times he considered it, it was sheer luck, pure fortune.
"Go on, eat up. The train ride must have worn you out."
"Yeah, it's a pretty long haul."
"My backside is throbbing."
"How about you, though? You stopped the rain — you must have been swamped for a while."
"The spirits did most of the work, honestly. I've been working them so hard lately that they're practically asleep on their feet."
He did feel a little guilty about it, but until he left for Carrington, he had no choice but to keep leaning on their help.
"By the way, Logan, is something wrong? You've had a bad look on your face this whole time. And you haven't said a word."
Bayul asked without thinking much of it.
What could it be?
Come to think of it, not just Logan but all the friends had been acting strange. Glancing at one another, biting their lips — they had the look of people carrying something they needed to say.
"Is... is something wrong?"
Bayul asked carefully, inwardly tensing.
"Actually... there's something we came here to tell you."
"Something to tell me?"
"Yeah. Well — not from me, actually..."
Aidan stole a glance at Logan.
The truth of that day — the one truth Bayul alone did not know.
In fact, the reason his friends had come to Hamilton today was to tell Bayul the truth about Bayil's death. The others had only tagged along for Logan's sake, knowing how hard it would be for him to do it alone. But the one who had to carry the words out of his own mouth was Logan.
"Bayul."
After a long hesitation, Logan finally spoke. And then, with not a single falsehood, he began to tell the whole truth of that day — the day Bayil had been swallowed forever beneath the river's current.