Encounter (3)
Out of nowhere, I remembered asking her once out of curiosity. What was the most insulting curse among the elves? It had been a casual question, the same lighthearted impulse that makes you ask a foreign friend to teach you their country's swear words first. I figured if not now, when would I ever get the chance? It also seemed like the perfect topic to defuse the awkward silences that kept cropping up in our conversations, so I asked on the off chance she'd answer. Besides, she was one of the few elves I'd ever met, and her tongue was notoriously sharp—sharp enough that "fitting the occasion" felt like an understatement for the situation.
Of course, she shot me down at first. What kind of priest, she demanded, would even be curious about something like that? She hammered the refusal into my ears with all the force of a blunt instrument. But after hours of my relentless questioning, she finally gave in, grumbling the whole time.
"You bastard who deserves to be burned alive."
I never imagined I'd hear those words again in this context. Elves live dozens of times longer than humans, so maybe the phrase loses some weight for them. Still, it had been a long time coming.
"Open this door right now while I'm still asking nicely... You bastard who deserves to be burned alive...."
She wasn't Cupid, yet she was firing arrows straight into my heart. I clung to that ridiculous thought to keep my mind from going blank. If I didn't, my legs were going to give out on the spot. I tried my best to look on the bright side of the current situation.
I'm dead. That's it.
"...You must have the wrong person."
Thud!
The response to my ant-sized voice was a disproportionately large reaction. The iron door shook violently.
Thud! Rattle!
It was like a pot lid rattling over boiling water. I threw my entire body—every last ounce of strength—against the door to hold it shut. This was a trial. The handle I was gripping wasn't just a door handle; it was the latch on Pandora's box, the one said to contain every calamity and evil that threatened humanity. For the sake of this world's peace and safety, as humanity's final bulwark, I couldn't afford to break here.
BOOM!
Right then, a strange floating sensation hit me. My survival instincts screamed in alarm. The door I'd been clutching so tightly lifted off the ground along with me, and I realized I was tumbling helplessly across the floor—not because of the dull pain in my back or the sharp whistle of air from the dented iron, but because of the eye level.
Clutching the crumpled door like a teddy bear, I lay sprawled on the ground, staring up at those golden eyes looking down at me from above. They made it perfectly clear that I was now prey staring into the eyes of a predator. There was no turning away from this horrifying reality anymore.
"You...!"
Her eyes were wide, her lower lip bitten hard. The terrifying expression left no doubt about what she was feeling. That was Apis's habit when she was furious beyond all limits. The last time I'd seen her this angry was after I'd tried to heal her from hydra poison and ended up getting infected myself. Well, I'd thought the mask would protect me.
Thud. Thud.
The sound of her approaching footsteps sent goosebumps racing across my skin. Like a hedgehog curling up and raising its quills in front of a natural enemy, I used the dented door as a shield and hid behind it, mustering the best defensive posture I could manage.
"Hey! What the hell do you two think you're doing?!"
A roar like a train whistle boiled in oil announced the elderly bookstore owner charging fearlessly onto the chaotic stage.
"You can't just smash someone else's shop door like that! How am I supposed to run my business now? Do you even know how many books I'd have to sell to fix this one door? You two—don't move an inch! I'm calling the guards right now to smash your heads in!"
The veins bulging on the man's neck made his anger completely justified. If some stranger barged into my house and kicked the door down without warning, I'd be pretty annoyed too. But unlike this brave shopkeeper, I couldn't bring myself to yell at the person who'd destroyed the door. After all, I knew all too well that the one who'd broken it could, if she felt like it, reduce not just the door but the entire store to rubble. She sat at the very top of the food chain. If I'd been in his place, I wouldn't have been able to voice my complaints at all. I'd probably have just collapsed on the spot and resigned myself to fate, as if facing a natural disaster.
"Sorry, shopkeeper. I broke your door. I'll pay for the damages. Here."
"What? Damages? Do you even know how much this door is worth? This was custom-ordered from the finest dwarf craftsmen—"
"Keep the change."
The shopkeeper snatched the pouch of gold coins Apis tossed over, checked the contents, and froze solid. Books might be thin and light, but their value far exceeded their weight. Bookstores in the capital had to spend a fortune on security because they were prime targets for thieves. A coin or two wouldn't even begin to cover repairs for a shop in the heart of the city.
"My deepest apologies for the discourtesy, honored guest. If it wouldn't be too presumptuous, I sincerely hope you'll grace our humble store with your presence again in the future."
His manners were flawless, worthy of a gentleman from the most prestigious noble house. With a dazzling smile that showed he could easily guess the amount inside the pouch, the shopkeeper bowed deeply to Apis. The movement was elegant, beautiful, and utterly without a single wasted motion.
Shopkeeper. You said business had been slow lately and you were feeling down. Now you look like you've got the whole world in your hands. How wonderful.
While silently blessing the shopkeeper, I tried to slip away quietly. Then—
"Where do you think you're going?!"
"Eek!"
Clang! Clang!
From outside my awareness, unidentified projectiles came flying at me. I barely managed to block them by swinging up the iron door like a shield. The projectiles embedded in the thick metal like throwing stars turned out to be several bookmarks. I wasn't sure whether to be more shocked by the skill of piercing steel with paper or by her precision in aiming straight for my tendons. While I was lost in that pointless distraction, she delivered her ultimatum in a voice dripping with barely restrained fury.
"You...! Come here while I'm still asking nicely... before I rip every tendon out of your arms and legs...!"
That wasn't asking nicely at all. Before she could finish, I hoisted the crumpled iron door like a shield, turned my back on her, and kicked off the ground with everything I had.
Showing your back to a wild beast was one of those basic survival facts you could learn just by watching Animal Kingdom a few times as a kid. But I had a very good reason for choosing the foolish option of "running away" despite the danger. Apis didn't have her bow and arrows right now. Among elves, whose archery was said to be unmatched by any other race, Apis's skill was in a league of its own—publicly acknowledged as extraordinary. She could rightly be called the greatest archer in the history of the Capital. But that title only applied when she had a bow and arrows. Just as a beast with its teeth and claws removed could no longer be called a beast, facing Apis without her weapons meant running away was a perfectly reasonable choice—at least a hundred times better than standing still. The chance of escaping Apis with her bow and arrows was 0%. Without them, it was at least 10%. And no matter how wild her temper was, she wouldn't use that in the middle of the city. The odds—well, the hope—were good enough.
"O fire, come forth—"
There was a time when I actually believed that.