Chapter 40: Is Wearing a Raven Mask Familiar in This Country?
Loki recalled the frozen tundra. Come to think of it, the Nod people had a custom of donning beast masks to conceal their appearance and scent during hunts. There was no reason the continent couldn't have something similar.
Yuan provided an answer to Loki's curiosity.
"A monk I know often wears something like that. It's a mask rather than a full headpiece, but... I hear it's a tool for treatments. I'm not entirely sure, but they say healers and herbalists wearing such masks are common in the kingdom's capital. Something about preventing the spreading plague?"
"……."
"Anyway, how's the journey been? I just go back and forth around here, so I have a real longing for the outside world. Got any fun adventure stories?"
"…Well, I've not been traveling long myself…. Though less adventure and more like being surrounded by zombies in a horror flick."
"……?"
"Just kidding."
Watching the honest Loki, Yuan gave a wry smile. He was the type who enjoyed reading faces and sharing stories for laughs. But with the raven mask hiding Loki's features, he couldn't get that pleasure. Yuan turned his gaze to the hooded girl, Salat.
"The young lady must be thrilled. Traveling with her husband like this."
"…He's not my husband."
"Oh? Ah! Your brother, then? Family trip?"
The girl ignored him. Seeing the taciturn Salat sitting stiffly, Yuan broke into a cold sweat.
'What a tough family to chat with…'
As Yuan sighed, a monastery came into view atop a nearby hill.
"Ah, there it is. That's the place!"
At Yuan's words, Loki turned his head, and Salat glanced ahead with a flicker of her eyes.
Vast farmlands stretched around it, with the monastery at the center. But it looked terribly neglected, as if abandoned. Fields that should have been lush green were withered to brown, and the scattered peppers were rotting or moldy. It felt eerily like a haunted ruin.
"A gloomy spot."
"Haha! It may look that way, but it's a sacred place devoted to the Constellation Azelan. Even ghosts would flee in fear."
At the word "ghost," Salat flinched, but no one noticed.
"And the monk who lives there is a fine man. I've been in his debt myself. He even used to take in homeless children and raise them… but after that incident, he…."
"That incident?"
"…A plague swept through the monastery. All the children died after."
Yuan's voice trailed off, and he fell silent for a while. His pained expression lingered until they reached the monastery, where he finally forced a smile and spoke to Loki's group.
"We're here! I'll unpack the goods. Sorry, but could you fetch the monk for me?"
Yuan addressed Salat more than Loki. Salat blinked and glanced at Loki beside her, who stared back without a twitch, his gaze laced with curiosity about her reaction. She scowled at him. Pretending not to hear, she crossed her arms and stayed silent, but Yuan spoke up again.
"Sorry, miss. For the monk's sake, at least—could you open the door?"
"…Why should I?"
"Well… you remind me of Emma, a girl who used to live with the monk long ago."
"……."
"She'd be just about your age now. It'd mean the world to him."
Yuan had stopped unpacking, clasping his hands in plea. Feeling the pressure, Salat shot Loki another glance before trudging to the entrance. Why should I do what a human asks? she grumbled inwardly.
She knocked on the door with her fist. Knock! Knock! No response. As Salat tilted her head in puzzlement, her long ears twitched. From inside came an old man's mumbling mutter and hurried footsteps—oddly forceful and quick.
The door flew open, revealing an elderly man in a tawny robe dragging on the ground.
"It's been ages! Yuan! Let's have dinner together to—!"
His eager steps and booming voice made Salat cock her head in confusion, but the old man froze mid-sentence, staring blankly at her.
"…Em…ma?"
The man's face lit with shock. His eyes, filled with longing and pathos, trembled faintly. Salat's curiosity lasted only a moment—then she froze as the old man reached out to her with a rigid expression.
*Slap!*
Salat smacked his hand away on reflex. Yet she shrank back in fear. The old man's face had darkened gravely the instant she struck.
His eyes widened in shock, lips quivering. He stared at his rejected hand, then reached for Salat again. Cowed by his reaction, Salat's mind blanked. She couldn't think to use her Divine Gift or even dodge—just squeezed her eyes shut against the approaching hand.
Moments later, Salat felt nothing. No touch. Only the old man's groan reached her ears.
"……?"
She cracked her eyes open. Loki had wedged himself protectively between them.
"…What do you think you're doing?"
Loki had seized the old man's hand roughly. Killing intent laced his grip, sharpening the elder's gaze. The old man twisted his wrist free in a fluid circle, counter-grabbing Loki's arm. His other hand shot toward Loki's head—astonishingly swift for an ordinary old man—but Loki blocked it once more.
"…What?!"
As the elder's face twisted in alarm, Yuan's voice rang out.
"…What in the world are you doing?!"
Loki and the old man turned to the peddler Yuan.
***
Entering the monastery, Loki and Salat were ushered into a reception room. Loki sat in a chair while Salat scanned the surroundings with wide-eyed wonder.
"…I'm so sorry! I just wanted to please the monk… but I caused trouble instead."
The peddler Yuan bowed deeply to them, his apology sincere. Loki pointed at Salat, who was still dazed beside him.
"If you're apologizing, do it to her, not me."
"…Ah! R-Right. Sorry, miss. I meant to cheer up the monk, but it turned out like this."
Snapping to, Salat shook her head side to side unconsciously.
"…Sorry."
Then the old man arrived with tea.
"She looked so much like a child I knew that I slipped up. I built her grave with my own hands, yet… She must have been terrified."
Feeling the old man's gaze, Salat startled and ducked behind Loki. Like a frightened rabbit. Loki gave her an odd look; she flinched and averted her eyes.
"Ah, um… that is…."
Salat seemed shocked by her own instinctive action, eyeing Loki warily as if expecting a scolding.
Loki ruffled her hair roughly.
"You owe an apology too."
"……?"
"Didn't you slap his hand?"
"I… didn't do anything wrong."
"It was a misunderstanding. Apologize. He already did to you."
His voice was low and cold, yet laced with warmth. Salat had no intention of apologizing, but his words made her feel she should. Avoiding the monk's eyes, she muttered softly.
"…Sorry."
"No, I should be the one apologizing, miss."
The monk, Alex, smiled bitterly. Salat's reaction made him feel thoroughly disliked. Yet he couldn't shake the odd familiarity. Had he met this girl before? Long ago, perhaps….
'Impossible.'
He set the tea on the table and turned to Yuan.
"What about the daily goods, Yuan?"
"They're in the storeroom. If anything's short, come to the village. I'll bring plenty."
Alex clapped approvingly at Yuan's honest grin.
"Perfect timing—dinner's just about ready."
Yuan flinched noticeably. Loki and Salat couldn't help but wonder at his reaction.
"Stay and eat."
"…I-I already had dinner! And with guests here, you should dine with them…!"
"Just a little, then."
"Ah! Neighbor Thomas ordered new stuff. Gotta deliver it…!"
His excuse was obvious, but Alex seemed oblivious, looking disappointed.
"I see. And you guests?"
Loki nodded. He needed nothing, but Salat had to eat.
"…We'll gladly accept."
"Thank you! I'll prepare the meal!"
Alex beamed at Loki's consent. Yuan hastily gathered his things, looking like he was fleeing for his life.
"Yuan."
Yuan jumped, sweating coldly.
"Next time, you eat with us."
"…O-Of course! Those… delicious peppers are always welcome! They bring back memories of eating them with you as a kid!"
"Really? Ah! I harvested these recently."
Alex offered a basket of shriveled, dull peppers. They looked far from fresh.
"Not the best, but take them. Your wife's expecting, right? Share with her."
"…Th-Thank you so much."
Yuan sagged as he took the peppers. Once he was gone, Loki and Salat dined courtesy of Alex.
A long table fit for a group held simple fare. Complaining when hosted would be rude, but….
"…It's bad."
…Loki muttered despite himself.
Before them: green-drenched dishes. Pepper salad, roasted peppers, pickled peppers, pepper soup, even pepper sandwiches for dessert. All peppers.
Loki wasn't picky, but the pepper overload sealed his lips. Beside him, Salat gaped in dismay.
"Haha! I overdid it. It's been ages since guests… These aren't fresh today, but tomorrow I'll make proper ones!"
Loki eyed Alex. His beaming smile was pure doting grandpa with grandkids.
Hard to refuse that. Loki speared a pepper chunk and popped it in. Bitter tang and fishy reek hit his tongue.
Salat, watching him, tried a bite. Tears welled instantly; her hair bristled like a hedgehog. Coughing, she chugged water and scowled.
"…Tastes awful."
Alex burst out laughing.
"Haha, hate peppers? You even react like Emma did."
No, it's not hating peppers—it's that these taste wrong.
Loki thought. 'Now I get why the peddler bolted.'
Alex, grinning ear-to-ear, chewed another chunk happily. Truth be told, the taste was abysmal. He used to pride himself on pepper dishes, but lately… this one was vile.
But….
'Delicious.'
Watching Loki and Salat, Alex felt a warm glow in his heart.