Floundering (5)
For all my hesitation, what came out of my mouth was a question about nothing at all.
"......You need anything?"
Heila, who had been sitting there as still as a still portrait, blinked slowly. Then, just as slowly, she shook her head.
My mouth felt strangely dry, so I rolled my tongue around for a moment before trying again.
"Your wrists and feet? Should I call in a healer or something?"
"I'm fine."
Her short answer was followed by yet another silence.
Every time I faced Heila, Phoenix's memories popped up like kernels of popcorn. Memories from Tauz Den, the ancestral home of the twin ducal houses.
In those memories, Phoenix had swung swords among his brothers and cousins, ridden great horses through the rye fields, tied boulders to his waist and fallen into ponds, stabbed dogs and pigs with daggers forced into his hand, hidden between the bathhouse and the castle wall reading books.
He had dried an orange flower in the shade, cheered on a songbird tapping at the window glass, picked out smooth, finely-colored pebbles to hide in his sleeve, wandered a garden visible from that window, hidden in a corner of it sniffling — and, unable to contain his burning rage, struck out on the road.
Unbefitting the trueborn heir of the twin houses — or, perhaps, entirely befitting a bastard carrying outsider blood — Phoenix's memories were steeped in emotion.
And that emotion screamed at me every time I looked at Heila. A command with no reason, no logic behind it: sever her throat right now and tear out her heart.
I turned over in my mind Phoenix's memories, emotions, and desires — what people commonly call the 'self.'
The way Phoenix's submerged self raged this wildly terrified me — me, Kim Seung-soo. The fear that this endlessly swelling Phoenix might swallow Kim Seung-soo whole and be done with him.
That fear put me at war with myself.
Wouldn't it be better to simply get rid of Heila, who kept waking him up? But wouldn't doing that ultimately mean surrendering to Phoenix's self?
After agonizing over it for quite a while, I reached a conclusion befitting Kim Seung-soo. A selfish, calculating conclusion.
Despite the considerable length of the silence, Heila did nothing. She simply blinked lazily and watched me.
"You've probably guessed already, but I can't kill you."
Her deep black eyes blinked slowly.
We'd been talking once every couple of days lately, so I'd gotten a fair read on her by now. Which is to say, I'd learned that the blinking she'd just done was her way of asking a question.
"If a runaway bastard killed the golden child raised as the trueborn heir, I'd never survive the fallout. You know?"
"Mm."
That quick, deadpan answer was annoying as hell.
"But I can't just let you go either. Who knows what you'd get up to once you got your freedom and your mana back."
Heila nodded as if that were perfectly reasonable......
Seriously, the sheer shamelessness of this woman.
"The problem here is that I can't keep you a prisoner forever."
"Why?"
"Well, for one, the mana-suppressant potion isn't infinite... and for another, the road I'm about to walk isn't lenient enough to drag baggage along."
"Baggage?"
"You."
She closed her mouth without a word. Her expression didn't change, but somehow she looked displeased.
"So sooner or later your prisoner days will end, and when they do, I'll have to make a decision. Whether to kill you, or send you back."
"Understood."
"And when that moment of decision comes—" I steadied my breathing a couple of times until my head felt a little clearer, then pressed on, crushing Phoenix down as I spoke. "I don't want to kill you."
"My plate's full enough as it is. I don't want your brother or your father hunting me down, and, um......"
Uh, how do I put this.
"......Honestly? I'd like it if you helped me. Out of, uh, for my sake."
"How?"
"How? Well, you know..."
I scratched my eyebrow while picking through my words.
"Stand beside me, take my side. Fight with me when fighting's needed. Teach me things when you know something... that sort of thing."
"Ah."
Heila nodded without hesitation.
"All right."
"......What?"
"I'll do it."
......Ah, my head. This woman is genuinely unhinged.
I dragged a hand down my face and shook my head.
"That — it's not like I can just take your word for it because you say one thing?"
"Why?"
"Why? Are you serious, you insane—"
I cleared my throat — ahem — then opened my mouth calmly.
"You kidnapped Ellen to blackmail me. You nearly killed Cole. And you expect me to trust you on the strength of one sentence?"
"I'll promise. If you want, I can even swear an oath."
"An oath?"
"Mm. But in exchange, you have to grant my condition too."
......Good grief. What on earth did she have to be this confident about?
"Let's hear it, then. What's your condition?"
"I help you, and you fulfill your duty. That's my condition."
"......What exactly have you been listening to? I told you I have no intention of going back to Ailant."
"By law, the rite of Incarnation must be performed inside Tauz Den, but given how things have turned out, I'll make an exception this once."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means that fulfilling the essential role of the Incarnator will count as fulfilling your duty. I'll persuade Kaisis and the elders myself."
The essential role of the Incarnator.
Only then did I grasp what she meant, and I clutched my forehead.
"It's not livestock grafting, you know. What kind of condition is that?"
"Why? What's the problem?"
At that breezy question, Phoenix's self beat furiously against the inside of my chest.
It felt like the rage could ignite at any moment, so I breathed slowly, as if meditating, and fixed my attention on Heila's face.
As I felt every time — she was truly beautiful.
Her raven-black hair and pale face made a striking contrast, and her deep gaze and red lips had a pull that drew people in. Add to that her long, slender limbs, her perilously delicate curves, and that cold yet noble aura......
In a word, she seemed to have every feature people conjure up when they try to draw a beauty.
She was beautiful by any objective measure — and by subjective ones too, since she came remarkably close to the ideal of me, Kim Seung-soo.
Buoyed by my diligent observation, the fury Phoenix had been brewing simmered back down. Thanks to that, I was able to break the silence and speak with composure.
"I can't promise that."
"I have no intention of mingling my body with someone I don't even like — a woman I can't tell is enemy or ally."
While Heila blinked a couple of times, I pulled a ring of keys from my coat.
"Instead, let's do this."
"How?"
I answered as I pulled on both her hands.
"I can't return your equipment, and you'll have to keep drinking the suppressant. But—"
Click. The manacles came open.
"I'll give you freedom of movement. Naturally, you're never to harm my companions, and you're not to run."
Then the shackles came off, and the heavy iron ball rolled across the floor until it thudded against one wall of the tiny room.
"If you break these terms, the manacles and shackles go back on. Understood?"
"......Mm."
"Now that you can move freely, you're going to build trust."
"Whose trust?"
"Mine."
I looked her straight in those black eyes.
"Make me trust you. Build up enough of it, and one day I'll return your equipment — and stop making you drink the potion."
The sunlight filtering through the small window scattered in her glass-bead eyes, layering them in bands of light and dark.
"And... if things go really well."
If I could manage to suppress Phoenix's self completely.
"Maybe you'll even get what you want."
Heila was not a fool, merely emotionless. Her crimson-tinged eyes glinted quietly.
Then, after only a moment, she caressed her wrist and spoke.
"The oath?"
"......Oath?"
"Mm. I haven't sworn it yet."
I burst out laughing and waved a hand.
"Please. Who cares about oaths and promises? What matters is the will to keep them."
"Oaths matter."
"......Huh?"
"They matter as much as the will does."
The autumn sun seemed to have brightened her eyes; Heila continued in a resolute tone.
"I swear before the names of Zahakar and Valuar—"
She bit down on her own thumb. Blood welled up, but her pale face remained expressionless.
"I will help you."
Her hand touched mine. The rich scent of blood scattered my thoughts, and I couldn't resist the pull as she drew my hand toward her.
"I will protect your companions, and I will not run."
Her bleeding thumb drew a red line across the back of my hand. The line curved and closed into a circle.
"I will earn your trust like this."
Where the red pigment overlapped, it looked especially thick. I stared blankly at that circle.
"I will obtain what I want."
Heila's white hand covered the back of mine, over the red circle.
"Without fail."
By the time her hand lifted away, the red circle drawn there had vanished without a trace.
There was a broad slope between Longville's lord's manor and its inner citadel. Only soldiers occasionally passed through, and otherwise it was quiet enough that the manor's kitchen staff loved to come out here for fresh air and strolls.
Even now, six or seven people sat perched on the slope, enjoying a rare warm midday.
Among those savoring the peaceful hour, freckled Mira narrowed her brow and spoke up.
"That's the finished product?"
The young-faced woman in the black hooded cloak — Mungchi — nodded from where she sat in the grass.
"How do you use it?"
"Like this."
Mungchi stretched her left hand forward, placed it on the mechanism strapped to her forearm, and made a 'few' sound.
"......That's it?"
"Whaaat."
"And how exactly do you scale a wall with that?"
At Mira's question, Mungchi tilted her head.
"Mira, dummy?"
"Wh-what did you say?"
The device Mungchi wore on her forearm was a small contraption shaped like a crossbow. She pointed at the bolt loaded into it.
"Here, rope there is. Grab rope, climb up. Obviously."
"That's just... hooking a grapple like everyone else."
"No argue back. Mira dummy."
"......You, are you trying to pick a fight?"
As Mira raised her voice, Mungchi gave a disdainful snort through her nose, turned her head away, and started fiddling with the mechanism.
Steedman, the bald dwarf who'd been spectating the two women from nearby, burst into snickers. Mira's face scrunched up completely as she rounded on him.
"What's so funny, huh, you bald midget bastard?"
"Hah! Taking that beatdown and still flapping your gums. Girl like that, you'd think she'd fix her filthy mouth."
"Worry about yourself, not me."
"My own business?"
"Yeah, dummy. You've barely gotten half the things Phoenix-nim asked for, haven't you?"
At that, Steedman's face twisted.
"Those things? You think silver-plated longswords and holy water are just lying around waiting to be bought?"
"What's so hard about it? It's not like nobody's paying you."
"It's not the kind of errand money alone can fix."
At Steedman's outburst, their leader Amias nodded slowly.
"Steedman's right. A lot of problems can't be solved with money."
"Oh, don't you start."
Amias scratched his head and let out a sigh.
"We've barely gathered any mercenaries. Phoenix-nim seems to be counting on at least thirty."
"How many do we have now?"
"Ten exactly. There are almost no mercenaries left in the fief. And of those, the useful ones are even rarer."
"Ten?"
Steedman's eyes lit up.
"With ten of us, there shouldn't be a shortage of supplies, no? I don't even need to go to the smithy then, right?"
"Dunno? Mercenaries we can gather along the way, but the things you're gathering aren't exactly easy to find on the road."
"Hnngh... I suppose..."
As Steedman's face clouded, Mira plopped down beside him and delivered a resounding smack to the back of his head.
"Agh, what the hell—"
"Why are you sulking so hard? You think Phoenix-nim's going to kill you over a few uncollected items?"
"That's not the point. This is about responsibility."
"Please. Since when were you Mr. Responsibility?"
"Ugh, you damn woman."
Steedman's bald head reddened with rising blood, and Mira hastily changed the subject.
"So why's Phoenix-nim asking for all that stuff anyway?"
"......No idea."
Amias, who caught her gaze next, just shrugged.
"Don't know. He didn't say a word about it."
"Hm. Anything come to mind?" The one the question landed on was Cole the archer.
He sat with bandages wound around his face and stomach, carefully drawing and easing a bow made of strange material.
"He's planning to hunt undead."
"Undead?"
"It's obvious. Silver-plated weapons, holy water, flame-oil, iron stakes... why else stock up on all that, unless you're after undead?"
Mira frowned at Cole's answer.
"Undead aren't exactly easy to find, you know. And anything short of something serious would crumble to dust with one fireball from Ellen-nim."
"True enough."
Cole cautiously eased the bowstring back to rest and wiped the sweat from his brow.
"Then either whatever we're hunting is beyond ordinary, or there's going to be a whole swarm of them."
"Hm. I guess."
When Mira smacked her lips, Steedman grumbled on.
"Anyway, it's not going to be a simple job, so don't go picking fights for nothing. You should just keep serving the lady and sucking up to her."
"......Sucking up? You insane bastard, was that actually aimed at me?"
"Well, is there anyone else here whose whole job is attending the lady?"
Mira's face flushed as if she'd been slandered, and she fired back.
"It's not like any lady's just 'a lady'! You can't even look her in the eye, you're so scared—"
"Wh-who can't — who can't look her in the eye?"
"You, you cowardly little midget!"
"Why you—"
"And I don't attend her, I watch her! You have any idea how terrified I am? Any second now she could start casting like she did back then, and my balls are climbing up inside me!"
A woman going on about her balls was quite the sight, but nobody bothered to call it out. Everyone simply agreed with what she'd said.
Cole, however, who had been drawing the bowstring again, seemed to feel a bit differently.
"What's there to be scared of? No mana, no weapon — and she's supposedly done with that kind of thing now."
At his words, Mira swallowed a bitter laugh.
"......Wow. If anyone else said that, maybe, but you're saying it?"
"Why not me?"
"Why? Because you're the one who got wrecked worst by that lady of yours, that's why."
Cole set the bow across his knees and shrugged.
"So what. My wounds healed fine thanks to the potions, and I even got an apology from the high and mighty lady."
"You call that an apology? The way I saw it, it was more like a notification."
Mira's jab drew an addition from Steedman.
"Practically an order. The whole attitude of 'I'll deign to apologize, so shut up and accept it.'"
"That's just how nobles are, eh."
Cole turned his shoulder away in studied indifference, and Steedman and Mira exchanged a look and slowly shook their heads.
After a moment of that, Mira turned her gaze on Amias this time.
"Amias, when are you going to tell him?"
"Tell him what?"
"Don't play innocent. I heard everything from Jenesser."
"......"
Amias closed his mouth and rubbed his thick jaw, and Mira clicked her tongue in frustration.
"Why drag it out?"
"You planning to bring it up the day before we depart? Because if you do, Phoenix-nim might actually flatten you."
"It's not that I'm stalling on purpose. I'm still trying to decide what to do myself."
"Well, that's not what I heard. Didn't the old training captain make you a nice offer too?"
"......That's also under consideration."
"Ugh. Poor Jenesser, honestly. Stuck with an indecisive bastard like you."
Amias's face darkened dangerously, and Mira clicked her tongue and turned away.
Just then, Mungchi — who had been fiddling with her mechanism — snapped her head up.
"Huh."
Her ears twitched and her nose quivered at the tip. For a moment she crouched like a dog or cat, staring hard at one direction — then she sprang to her feet.
The group had seen this display countless times by now, so without a word they turned to look where Mungchi was looking.
"One, two, three, four, five."
Before Mira's murmur even finished, a tall figure appeared on the manor side of the slope.
Steedman clicked his tongue and rose, dusting off his backside.
"Ghost-like, every damn time."
While the mercenaries scrambled to their feet, Mungchi had already leapt bounding across the grass toward the man, impatience long since winning.
"Phoi!"
"Mungchi."
The man smiling as he patted her head was, of course, Phoenix.