A Photograph From the Past

"How could a person have changed so much? He used to be such a brilliant friend. Does the Spirit Mage's Curse truly drag the Red Fire family into a pit of flames…?"

Sa Dae-ryong muttered with a troubled expression. Unlike the Pacheon family, who seemed ready to devour each other at any moment, the Red Fire and Black Lotus families had maintained friendly relations for generations. That had held true in the current era as well, but after the Red Fire family head's condition deteriorated rapidly more than a decade ago, the two houses had grown distant. That period coincided with the year Yeon Minha was born—and the year her biological mother died.

"…Then, how exactly is the situation unfolding right now…?"

At my question, Sa Dae-ryong's brow furrowed even deeper. Just as someone had warned me, the Supreme Council had publicly announced a resolution imposing sanctions on the Red Fire family that very morning. They had also disclosed in full detail every evil deed committed by its head, Yeon Jeong-mun. All of the family's businesses and foundation funds had been frozen, and emergency arrest warrants had been issued for every single member. Even those who had barely survived the tragedy of that day were now detained and undergoing intense interrogation.

Naturally, Yeon Minha was no exception. As the undeniable successor of the Red Fire family, she was under heavy suspicion of possibly having been involved in the conspiracy Yeon Jeong-mun had orchestrated. This morning, those ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠who had belatedly followed our escape route had even demanded that we hand over custody of her.

At this point, however, Sa Dae-ryong let out a snort as if the very idea were ridiculous.

"No need to worry. I already drove off all those worthless bastards. Unless they want to start a war, they won't dare set foot on the Black Lotus family's private grounds."

"Sir, the senior had nothing to do with any of it. On the contrary, she even stepped in to stop her own father from trying to kill me. She herself nearly became a sacrificial lamb in the process—"

"I know. I know. Didn't I tell you not to worry? We believe what you say."

When I hurriedly tried to explain, the lady of the house calmly waved her hand as if to reassure me. The man beside her nodded in agreement.

"Both you and that child are safe now. So focus solely on recovering. We've neutralized most of the demon's poison, but it will still take quite some time before you can move freely again."

"Dear, let's go now. We should let him rest. We can talk more after he's recovered further…"

I still had many questions I wanted to ask. But they gently dissuaded me and left the room, only saying that I was free to use anything in the mansion and to ring the call bell without hesitation if I needed help.

The unexpectedly gracious treatment left me feeling dazed. While their consideration put my mind at ease to some degree, there were parts I couldn't quite understand. It was clear they had received some prior notice from the commander. The way they had said they were waiting for me. They hadn't even batted an eye at my strange masked appearance—in fact, they had prepared a new mask as if they had anticipated it.

Even to my inexperienced eyes, the commander's parents seemed like people of considerable character and dignity. That impression grew even more striking when I remembered they belonged to one of the Five Families, an extraordinarily prestigious lineage. At the Cradle, I at least had the title of recommended student from the Black Lotus, but to them I was nothing more than a lowborn orphan with no family. Such hospitality would have been difficult to extend unless their hearts were truly in it.

Yet had the commander ever spoken about his family or parents? No matter how hard I thought about it, I couldn't recall hearing anything on that subject. The commander and his older sisters had chattered about all sorts of things, but they had never once touched on that particular topic. Looking back now, it almost seemed as if they had deliberately avoided it. And earlier, when I had asked about his relationship with them, their attitudes had carried a subtle, strange undertone. What could it be…?

"…"

When I turned my head to examine the guest room more carefully, I began to notice small details and ornaments I hadn't seen before. Among them, a rather large picture frame hanging in the corner particularly caught my eye. As if drawn by some invisible force, I walked over and studied it.

The colors had faded somewhat, suggesting it was quite old, but I could clearly recognize the people inside. The reason the frame had seized my attention was obvious. The people in the photograph were all deeply familiar and dear to me.

Surprisingly, it showed the commander and his sisters. The sleeve decorations and collars differed slightly from the current style, but the uniforms they wore were unmistakably those of the Cradle. It must have been taken during their school years. After all, the commander and his sisters had all said they graduated from the Cradle.

Their youthful appearances felt strikingly exotic. While they didn't look all that different from now, the photo captured a vibrancy and youth that no longer existed. I found myself falling into the image, mesmerized.

There was the commander, sitting at the center of the table with his characteristic grumpy expression. That look was so unchanged from the present that it somehow felt endearing. Around him, encircling him protectively, were his sisters. Though they all wore the same uniform, each one's unique personality shone through clearly.

To the commander's right stood Ryu Sehwa, the model student—long skirt and jacket exactly as the school rules required, necktie perfectly knotted. In the center was Yoon Chaewon, exuding a wild, free-spirited air with a skirt shortened so drastically that her thighs were fully exposed and the top buttons of her shirt undone two or three at once. To the left, Ye Jin clung tightly to the commander's arm with a slightly anxious expression, looking prim and proper. Why on earth was she wearing her jacket over her head?

Had these people been practically glued together since their Cradle days, for nearly twenty years? Their bond was clearly no ordinary one.

At the bottom of the photograph, something was written in small, neat handwriting. I read it slowly, starting from the bottom.

"…"

They were all from the student council? The Cradle opened its doors to anyone with sufficient ability, but I knew the student council was an exception to that rule. Not only did one need skill, but also the right background and family status. I'd suspected as much, but these people really had been extraordinary.

What shocked me most, however, was the name written at the very top. —Student Council President: Sa Jaehyuk

"What the hell is this nonsense…"

Had I seen it wrong? I blinked several times and checked the text again. But there was no mistake. The name beside the words "Student Council President" was unmistakably the commander's. He—of all people—had been the student council president?

It was an undeniable fact that the commander was a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠good person, yet the words "commander" and "student council president" simply refused to fit together in my mind. Even if he tickled the soles of my feet all night as torture, this was one truth I couldn't escape. The shock was so great that I only noticed the presence of another person in the photo much later.

Behind the seated commander stood one more female student. She had risen to her feet, wrapped her arms around his neck, and rested her head on top of his. Her features looked kind and pure at first glance. The distance between them seemed closer than with anyone else in the photo. The smile she wore felt more transparent and refreshing than any I had ever seen.

I lowered my gaze again to check her name.

—Vice President: Seol Yujeong

It was definitely a name I had never heard before in my life. Yet for some reason, her face felt familiar. I was certain I had seen this person before. Overwhelmed by a powerful sense of déjà vu, I carefully searched through my memories. And finally, I remembered.

"…"

I couldn't speak. This woman. She was the one who had appeared in my dream.

I ate a light dinner from the dishes the servant had brought in on a cart. Though the night had grown late, my thoughts still held me captive. The woman's face from the photograph kept flickering before my eyes. It was so strange that I couldn't shake it off. In the photo she had posed with such intimacy, yet the commander and his sisters had never once uttered the name Seol Yujeong. Naturally, I had never heard of her before, nor had I ever seen her in person.

But when I had collapsed from overexerting myself in the south and lost consciousness. When ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I had been transported to the capital and was sleeping in the Cradle's infirmary. In the middle of the dream I had then, I had clearly faced her directly.

The Seol Yujeong in the photograph had worn a clear, pure smile that matched her appearance. Yet the version of her in my dream had worn an ill-fitting, wicked expression, which made the memory all the sharper. Still… how could someone I had neither seen nor heard of suddenly appear in my dream? The moment I thought of her, the bizarre contents of that dream came flooding back all at once. To keep from forgetting them, I wrote them down on a sheet of paper.

A calendar from three years ago. Ruins of an ancient civilization with the sea visible to the east. Women chatting like close friends. The flower shop owner. The barrier guard commander. The nightclub singer. The nun. And so on.

Polaris. Spica. The Great Adversary. The Great Work.

"…"

Even after writing them down, I had no idea what any of it meant. It felt like looking at symbols arranged in a completely incomprehensible way. Yet their vividness only made them feel more ominous. The fact that a real person had appeared in the dream made it even worse. How was I supposed to interpret any of this? I couldn't just casually tell someone about it out of nowhere. Should I dismiss it as a random dream? Or should I go find the commander after all?

"…"

—Knock, knock.

I had been drowning in unanswered questions when the sound of someone knocking on the door pulled me back to reality.

"You may enter."

I assumed it was the servant coming to check on me again, but the person who emerged from the darkness was someone I had not expected at all.

"…Senior."

Yeon Minha was wrapped in a thin white gown that revealed glimpses of her skin. Just the bandages wound around her neck and the ends of her limbs were enough to suggest how much she had suffered. They had said it would take more time before she could wake, but perhaps her recovery was faster than anticipated.

"…"

Yeon Minha said nothing. She simply stared at me in silence. The faint light of the bedside lamp flickered across her haggard face. Her ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠eyes, which had always burned like jewels, were now filled only with hollow emptiness. Seeing her in such a state in the middle of the night weighed heavily on my mind. I didn't even know what words of comfort to offer.

Anyway, I was just about to rise from my seat to greet her when—

—Thud.

Yeon Minha took a few slow steps into the room before suddenly collapsing against me, entrusting her body to my arms.

"…Senior?"

"…"

Yeon Minha remained silent. She buried her face in my chest, refusing to show her expression. Her shoulders trembled slightly. Along with that, I felt a faint dampness against my chest, as if raindrops were falling. At the trembling, the gown that had been draped over her shoulders began to slip to the floor. I caught it and pulled it back up to her neck. But Yeon Minha paid it no mind and kept her face buried.

In the end the gown fell completely, revealing her slender shoulders and pale skin.

"Senior, just a moment…"

In my bewilderment I had barely managed to speak when, in a voice thick with moisture, Yeon Minha whispered in a tiny voice.

It was such a faint, fragile whisper that it would have passed by unnoticed if I hadn't been listening closely.

"…You know. There's just one thing… I want to ask of you…"

"…What is it?"

After a brief silence, the plea she uttered in that pitiful voice was something I had not anticipated at all.

"Hold me… please…"