The Place Left Behind After Ria
The black cliff face dropped away into a barren stretch of land where no waves could reach. A single lonely tombstone stood there.
The sea below was dyed pitch black. Each time the waves slammed against the rocks, the faint scent of wet salt mixed with the smell of ash drifted upward. The only words carved into the tombstone were two letters.
Ria.
She had no surname, no family, no known place of birth. That was all there was to write. No one knew her favorite food or what she hated. No one knew what she thought about before falling asleep, or whose face she pictured when she was in pain.
It was only when Grain stood before the tombstone that she realized it.
She knew nothing about that child.
She had only ever asked questions that served herself. She had never once asked what the girl wanted to say. She had simply poured out her own words. Even when the girl begged her to believe her, Grain hadn’t listened.
Grain reached out, then stopped. There was nothing beneath the tombstone. Not a handful of ashes, not even a scrap of cloth. There were no more words left to carve.
Please believe me.
That single sentence shattered late, somewhere between the sound of the waves. Grain had never heard it.
The moment she heard the name Tasha Leverne, an older hatred had risen first, drowning out the child’s voice. And so all that remained now was a grave with a single name on it.
“You look absolutely pathetic.”
The voice came suddenly from behind her, but Grain did not turn. She could tell who it was without looking—the irritated crunch of wet earth underfoot, the rustle of a skirt caught by the wind, the thick perfume that scratched at the throat with every breath.
It was her mother.
“I heard everything! Every last pathetic detail! Didn’t I warn you not to go after her?”
The anger she had been suppressing leaked out with every word.
“I told you not to chase Tasha Leverne. What could you possibly do? What do you even know?”
Grain stared down at the tombstone with empty eyes.
“If you had just stayed quiet, everything would have been yours. All you had to do was nod in front of the elders and stand like a proper successor in front of the family.”
The closer her mother came, the louder her footsteps grew.
“So what kind of idiotic thing have you done this time?”
The hem of her skirt stopped beside the tombstone.
“First you lose your mind over one dead half-sister like a rabid foal, and now you’ve ruined everything over some lowborn bitch who crawled out of nowhere?”
Grain’s fingers curled on top of her knee. The movement was small. But her mother would not have missed it. She simply had no intention of stopping.
Her mother’s lips twisted as she read the name on the tombstone. The sneer settled directly over the two letters that spelled Ria.
“I heard it all. You couldn’t even recover the body, could you?”
The wind blew.
“Do you think carving a name makes it seem like something’s left?”
Grain did not answer.
“What was that girl to you anyway? Did she share your blood? Did she carry the family name? Did she protect your position?”
Her mother looked down at the tombstone, her face twisted with a mixture of rage, irritation, and utter disgust.
“She was just some lowborn whore who blew up and vanished in Tasha Leverne’s hands.”
The name carved into the stone blurred in Grain’s vision.
Ria.
“If that Ria girl—or whatever her name was—meant so much to you,” her mother’s lips curled viciously, “I’ll find you a few more useful ones. Things like that are crawling all over the streets anyway.”
A sigh.
“At least they won’t ruin your future like that filthy creature did.”
Grain’s breath caught. The hand resting on her knee slowly moved toward her sword hilt.
“…Mother.”
Before the word even finished, the blade was drawn. A delayed metallic ring followed as her mother’s sleeve split open. A long red line bloomed between the torn fabric.
Her mother looked down at her own arm a beat too late, then finally screamed.
“A-ahhh! Aaaagh!!”
Staggering backward, she clutched her arm. Blood welled between her fingers and scattered in red droplets across the wet earth.
“You… have you gone mad?! How dare you raise a hand against your own mother…!”
Grain stood with her sword drawn, neither advancing nor retreating. While blood dripped from the tip of her blade, her gaze remained fixed only on the tombstone.
“I am asking you. Do not ever let that filthy mouth speak that child’s name again.”
Drip.
Blood fell from the sharp edge onto the dirt.
“…Please.”
Her mother’s face contorted. Shame rose faster than the pain. Her lips trembled violently, then filled once more with venom.
“Do you really think the elders will let this slide?”
Grain did not answer.
“Do you think you can still sit in the head’s seat after this?”
Without even wiping the blood from her blade, Grain lowered the tip.
“The head’s seat.”
Her hollow pupils stared into empty space.
“I never wanted it. I never desired it in the first place.”
Grain looked at the tombstone one more time.
Ria.
The only meaning she had left in this world was now those two letters carved into cold stone.
When the door to the elders’ council chamber opened, the first thing that caught the eye was the documents spread across the long table. Port entry logs. Troop movement records. Merchant ledgers. And on top of them all, a report bearing the name Tasha Leverne.
There were many candles, yet the room was dim. Every time the flames flickered, the shadows of aged faces stretched long across the walls. The elders did not bother rising. They simply scanned Grain from their seats.
The hem of her skirt stained with cliff dirt. The sleeve splattered with blood. The hair that had not been properly arranged. After taking in all of it, the gaze of the eldest elder finally returned to the report.
“So you let her slip away after all.”
A finger pressed down on the edge of the paper.
“Tasha Leverne.”
Grain did not answer.
“You mobilized the family’s ships, moved personnel, even opened the port—and still returned empty-handed. The future head of the family has wasted the entire organization’s power on a personal grudge.”
A low, snake-like chuckle of open mockery leaked from one side of the table.
Grain’s eyes remained fixed on the name in the report.
Tasha Leverne.
“There were already concerns since the Edel incident. That you were too obsessed with that name.”
The elder’s finger tapped slowly over the letters.
“This incident has made it clear. In front of that name, you lose all judgment.”
Grain’s lips were pressed so tightly they had gone bloodless. It was impossible to tell whether she was truly listening or letting the words wash over her. She did not even seem to care what expressions the elders wore as they looked at her.
“You intend to take the head’s seat in this state?”
Another elder leaned forward.
“We cannot allow the family to be dragged along by your personal revenge. At the very least—”
Before the sentence could finish—
Bang.
The family seal slammed onto the table. Candles flickered. Several documents slid aside. The elder who had been speaking froze mid-sentence.
Grain planted one hand on the table and lifted her head.
“If I become the head,” her sunken voice filled the room, “I will hand over all practical authority.”
The elders’ eyes changed.
“The family’s finances. The ports. The merchant guilds. The intelligence network. Authority over troop movements. Take as much as you want.”
The room fell silent. They had been offered too much at once; even the elders could not speak immediately. Grain did not wait for their silence to end.
“I will also give you internal personnel authority. You may even add clauses that prevent me from acting without the elders’ approval.”
“Grain.”
The eldest elder called her name in a low voice.
“That is no different from abandoning the head’s seat entirely.”
“I know.”
“Are you truly saying this with full understanding?”
Grain’s jaw tightened. The moment the elder tried to say something more, the sound of grinding teeth cut through the air. A breath she had roughly swallowed leaked from deep in her throat.
“I said take it all.”
Grain looked down at the name in the report.
Tasha Leverne.
“What do you want in return?” one of the elders asked carefully, swallowing.
Grain’s fingertips descended onto the report. The paper crumpled slightly.
“That woman’s head.”
She did not lift her hand. The wet cave floor rose in her mind. The small breathing beside her when she woke. The face that had smiled as if unafraid. The voice that had begged her to believe. All of it had vanished in the explosion.
“Launch the ships.”
Her voice scraped low.
“Close the ports. Search the merchant ledgers. Drag out every single person who opened a path for her.”
The elders’ gazes gathered on the report.
“Bind those who hid her. Execute those who helped her. I do not care.”
Grain raised her head. Beneath the candlelight, suppressed hatred pooled darkly in her eyes.
“Leave Tasha Leverne no place to breathe.”
For a long time, no one spoke. The future head had placed her own leash on the table. She had offered up her authority, her pride, her future position. All she wanted in exchange was one thing.
Tasha Leverne’s head.
Calculation slowly rose on the elders’ wrinkled faces. Grain did not retreat from their gazes.
“If I become the head,” she pressed down harder on the seal, “it all belongs to you. Even if the position is nothing but an empty shell, I do not care.”
The elders’ eyes shifted.
“You would give up so much just for revenge?”
Grain’s lips tightened very slowly.
“Just?”
The sound of teeth grinding as if they would shatter echoed through the room.
“If it means I can cut off Tasha Leverne’s head…”
The room fell silent.
Grain lifted her gaze.
“Nothing else is necessary.”
After that day, the rules of the mansion became noticeably crueler and harsher. The household had never been gentle to begin with.
The young apprentices learned how to stand up the moment they fell, and a wooden sword was thrust back into any hand that dropped one. But now even the small gaps for breathing between those lessons had vanished.
Locks were placed on the back of the warehouse. Stakes were driven into the narrow paths where children used to sneak away. Training targets stood in rows across the empty lot beneath the wall.
The places where children had once pushed each other with dirty hands and laughed were replaced one by one with names. As the empty spaces disappeared, even the spots where the family’s children could pause without worry and catch their breath were completely wrung dry.
At the end of the corridor, a child who dropped a wooden sword was struck on the back of the hand. The child bit their lip to keep from crying. The instructor pressed the fallen sword back into their grip.
“Pick it up again. Properly.”
The short command fell. The child took the sword with trembling hands. Grain passed by indifferently.
A few days later, stakes were driven into the small evening primrose garden inside the mansion as well. It was to expand the map storage and connect it to the messenger pigeon tower and the strategy room. It was the most suitable spot to gather all the data on ports and reefs where Tasha Leverne might hide.
The overseer in charge of construction carefully bowed his head as he offered the report.
“We will clear it by today.”
Grain traced the line on the report. A red mark had been drawn over the spot where the evening primrose garden had been.
“Do it.”
The moment the people carrying shovels stepped toward the garden, the white-haired old butler who had served Grain, Edel, and Tasha since they were children rushed forward.
“Lady Grain.”
Grain only turned her eyes. The butler could not speak right away. A single yellow petal clung to the edge of his vision. The moment he saw it, an old memory surfaced—Edel crouching here, carefully patting down the soil.
Even when dirt got under her nails and stained her hands, she had smiled brightly. She had supported the stems with her hands so they would not bend in the wind, and waited for them to bloom yellow at night like an excited child.
Tasha would surely have laughed and called it a bother. Still, she might have let Edel tuck one into her hair. And what flower would suit Grain? When Edel had said those words, she had looked as if she possessed the entire world.
Someday, when the two of them returned, the three of them would walk this garden hand in hand. Without swords, without orders, without the smell of blood. They would laugh over trivial stories. The butler remembered those words, and because he remembered, he could not step back.
“This is the place Lady Edel…”
His voice would not come out properly. The butler bit his dry lips once, then continued in a pleading tone.
“…personally tended.”
Grain’s eyes turned toward the evening primrose garden. The flowers had not yet bloomed in the daylight. Only the closed buds swayed gently in the wind.
The place Edel had left behind.
Those words caught in her throat. For a while, nothing came out. Grain’s neck moved slowly. The hand holding the report had gone rigid.
“My lady.”
The butler took one more step closer.
“Please, at least this place…”
Grain’s gaze stopped on the closed flower buds.
Ria.
The name rose for the briefest moment. If this was the only thing she could do for that child now.
Tasha Leverne.
Her teeth clenched. Her voice did not come immediately. Her breath caught once in her throat, and only after a long pause did the cracked words fall.
“Tear it down.”
The butler’s face hardened like stone. Grain did not take her eyes off the flowerbed.
With her throat tight, she spoke again.
“All of it.”
Shovels dug into the earth. The closed stems snapped first. Roots were overturned with clumps of soil. Yellow petals were crushed beneath boots and buried in the wet ground.
The butler lowered his head before the collapsing garden. Grain walked past him. Behind her, the sound of earth being torn continued. The sound of young stems breaking mixed in.
The place where Edel had waited disappeared. The space where children could have laughed was gone. The world Ria had spoken of was drifting farther away, little by little, by Grain’s own hand.
Grain believed that this was now the only thing she could do for that child.
That night as well, Grain did not return to her bedroom. The lights in the strategy room never went out. She stood before the nautical chart. When she closed her eyes, the scene from that day returned.
In her old nightmares, black blood had always come first. The blood that flowed from Edel’s lips. The words she could not swallow until the end. And above it all, the name Tasha Leverne that clung to it.
But now, before any of that, a white light exploded. A small body vanished into it. A hand that reached out too late grasped at empty air.
Grain opened her eyes. The room was quiet. There was nothing in her hands. If she closed her eyes again, that child would surely return. So she could not close them.
Ria.
Even if she killed Tasha Leverne, nothing would change. Ria would not come back. The empty grave beneath the tombstone would not be filled. She would not be able to hear the words that child had swallowed. She knew that.
Yet she could not stay still.
If she did nothing, it felt as though that child would truly end as nothing but a name.
Grain reached out over the chart. The spot where Tasha Leverne’s last trace had been recorded. Her fingertips pressed down on it. The paper slowly crumpled.
Evidence still remained. The ledger fragments Ria had carried out, the underwater map, several charred lists. There were transaction dates, erased names, and traces of routes leading to naval ports.
Taken individually they were mere scraps, but when gathered together they reeked of the family’s corruption.
The problem was that the one piece of proof that could tie all those fragments together had vanished. If the family crest had remained intact, they would not have been able to deny it so easily.
She could have shoved the truth in their faces—that what Edel had pursued and what Ria had risked her life to bring back came from the same rotten root.
But now all that was left were half-burned papers and broken fragments. The elders would brazenly snort in court and insist the documents were sophisticated forgeries.
They would incite others to call them crude trash fabricated by pirate scum desperate to save their lives. They would claim Tasha Leverne had made them up to cover her own crimes.
So Tasha did not stop.
She kept the remaining fragments close to her chest and moved from port to port. She searched old pawn shops, tracked down elderly informants who still remembered Edel’s name, and hunted for people who could fill in the blanks of the burned ledger.
The more she did so, the narrower the sea became. The navy’s ships increased. Ports that had once turned a blind eye now closed their gates. Smugglers who had shared drinks with her just yesterday now turned their heads. The supply ship that had loaded liquor and ammunition onto Tasha’s vessel never returned.
Some were captured. Some fled. Those who cursed and left were better. The footprints that silently packed their belongings and vanished into the dawn mist lingered far longer.
Tasha did not hold them back. They had boarded of their own will. They could leave of their own will too. Yet the empty spots kept catching her eye. The places on deck where people had once chattered noisily.
The spots beside the liquor barrels where they had leaned and fallen asleep. The places where they had shaken their glasses and laughed whenever Ria passed by—one by one, they disappeared.
Still, Tasha forced a grin.
“It’s nice and spacious now.”
It was the kind of line that should have earned a retort, but no one laughed.
That night, Tasha threw herself into a narrow alley to escape pursuit. The blade lodged in her side had been pulled out long ago. But the bleeding would not stop. Every time she pressed down with her palm and ran, something hot spilled between her fingers.
Behind her came the sound of military boots splashing through puddles. The clink of scabbards.
“Over there!”
Curses and footsteps flooded into the alley. Tasha gritted her teeth and rounded the corner. Just once more. If she could get over the low wall ahead, there was an old drainage channel she had prepared long ago. Once she passed through it, the sea would be visible. That was all she needed to reach.
Tasha placed her hand on the wall. Strength would not enter her fingertips.
“…Ah.”
A short sound escaped. Her body collapsed first. The wet stone floor caught her shoulder. All the breath left her at once. The hand pressing her side slipped. Her palm was completely red. Blood had pooled even beneath her nails.
Footsteps sounded in the distance. She could not tell if they were coming closer or moving away. Tasha leaned her back against the wall.
“Seriously…”
She had tried to laugh, but a wet cough caught her breath first.
“You’re really working me too hard.”
She did not even know who she was talking to. It sounded like something for Edel. Or maybe something thrown at Grain. Or perhaps it was directed at herself, the one who still could not let go of this game.
Her eyelids grew heavy. Just a little. If she rested just a little, it would be fine. Her head tilted to the side. Cold brick touched her cheek. Between the smell of rain and blood, the scent of the old garden’s grass seeped in.
Edel was laughing. She was waving her hand beneath the sunlight. Beside her stood a young Grain, her cheek smeared with dirt, clutching Edel’s skirt without a sword in her hand. Had there ever been a time when Grain smiled like that?
Tasha stared blankly at that face, then unconsciously lifted the corners of her mouth.
“Yeah.”
Her voice barely came out.
“You should have smiled like that from the beginning.”
Edel said something, but it could not be heard. That was fine. Even if she could not hear it, she felt like she understood. It might have been a call to come back. Or perhaps it was permission to rest now. Either way, it looked so warm and gentle.
Tasha tried to reach out very slowly, but her fingers would not move at all.
That was when it came.
Captain.
A sharp voice stabbed right beside her ear. Tasha’s eyebrows twitched.
You’re not trying to cheat me out of my share, are you?
Her breath stopped, then returned violently. Her fingers, submerged in a pool of blood, twitched.
“…Ha.”
A sound that might have been laughter or a cough leaked out weakly. The Edel before her blurred. The smiling face of young Grain spread like rainwater. The warm scent of grass vanished, and the stench of the wet alley and the metallic smell of blood rushed into her throat.
After making me do all the hard work alone, if you don’t even settle the accounts, that’s really too much, don’t you think?
Tasha clenched her teeth.
“You really…”
The end of her sentence tore apart in a cough. A little blood surged up. Tasha wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. The blood on her hand smeared across her cheek again.
“Even in death, you’re noisy.”
There was no answer. But the voice remained. The face that had demanded her share even while covered in blood. The narrowed eyes when she declared she would become a shield, the voice that had accused her of trying to brush it off.
Tasha pressed against the wall. Her palm slipped. Once. This time her nails caught in the gap between bricks. It hurt as if they would break, but the pain helped lift her body a little.
“Fine.”
Her breath cracked.
“I got it, little nun.”
Tasha braced one knee. Blood flowed from her side again. Her vision narrowed to black, then returned.
“Your share.”
Laughter leaked between gritted teeth.
“I won’t cheat you out of it.”
The footsteps drew closer again. This time it was clear. Tasha picked up the sword that had fallen to the ground. Strength would not enter her hand properly; the tip scraped against the stone with a long, drawn-out screech.
Her body was heavy. If she closed her eyes, it felt like Edel would still be smiling there. Like Grain would be standing beside her. Still, Tasha did not close her eyes.
“Really.”
The bloodstained corners of her mouth slowly rose.
“What would you do without me?”
Tasha staggered as she pushed herself deeper into the alley. One step. Another step. She did not stop. Inside her coat was a ledger fragment wrapped in wet cloth. The thing Ria had left behind. Ria’s share.
Tasha pressed it once with her palm.
“Wait for me.”
Her voice mixed low with the rain.
“I have no intention of getting cursed for stealing your share.”
There was one thing she had overlooked.
When she used Self-Destruct, she would resurrect in the nearest village. So she had thought this time would be no different. She would lie down for a few days, groaning in pain, and once she came to her senses she could go find Captain Tasha or Captain Grain. Both would be furious. Probably very, very angry.
Still, if she went to them in person and explained, she thought it would somehow work out. Captain Tasha might speak harshly, but she was not the type to completely ignore what someone said. And Captain Grain… was scary, but if she went and told her she was alive, she probably would not swing her sword first.
Probably.
…Honestly, she could not guarantee it.
That was why she had left a kind of insurance with Captain Tasha. In case she could not return right away, so that things would not completely fall apart.
Still, she had thought it would not take long. It was the nearest village, after all. It had always been that way. After self-destructing, the place she opened her eyes was always the nearest village.
A place where people lived. A place where words worked, where you could buy a piece of bread if you had money, where if you asked for directions they would at least point with a finger.
So she had assumed it would be the same this time. Yes. The nearest village. Not the nearest human village. Just… the nearest village.
“……”
I sat on the cold floor and blinked. It was not a thick rope around my wrist, but something like a living vine. The same bound my ankles. Twisted branches were intricately woven together. Between the branches there was only enough space for a single finger, and faint green patterns rose and faded at every joint.
Beyond them, several figures were gathered and murmuring. No. It felt a little strange to call them people. Their ears were long. Very long and pointed.
The murmuring grew slightly louder. I slowly lowered my head. The back of my neck felt cold.
Ah. This time it seemed I had made a rather serious mistake.
No, perhaps “rather” was an understatement.
I looked down once at my bound wrists, then at the pointed ears beyond the branches. A forest where human entry was forbidden. A taboo not properly marked even on maps. An elven village.
And I was currently inside the prison of that village.