Journey (2)
One year had passed since the fall of evil and since victory bells echoed across the continent.
The Ancient Species went into hiding that day.
The Heroes who had reached the deepest depths returned to their lives with unspeakable glory upon their backs.
Elia’s authority and status only continued to grow with each passing day.
Meanwhile, Vera was dying.
Buzz—
The Holy Sword cried.
Vera lifted his head at the sound.
What he saw through the window was the pure, white Elia.
The landscape reminiscent of Renee, and thus equally cruel.
Step—
He heard the sound of neat and heavy, yet careful footsteps.
Vera recognized who was approaching from the steps.
“…Enter.”
The one who came in after the door opened was the middle-aged Norn, with striking straw-colored hair.
His head hung low.
“What is it?”
“An envoy has arrived from the Empire. They wish to invite Your Holiness to the Crown Prince’s wedding.”
Norn’s head remained lowered, showing no signs of lifting. His bearing was simply downcast, as though he was sorry for having to convey such news.
Vera watched him for a moment before nodding.
“…I shall attend. Inform them so.”
“Yes.”
After answering, Norn turned around.
Opening the door and leaving would free him of the heavy atmosphere in this office. He could ignore Vera, who deteriorated further each day since the war ended.
However, that was not easy for Norn, either.
“…Your Holiness.”
“Yes.”
Norn turned his head.
What entered his vision was a disheveled young man, standing at the center of the dark office.
The eyes that were always sharp had lost their light.
The once proud shoulders were now slumped limply.
With no one left to admonish him, his hair, which now reached his shoulders, had grown long and messy.
Norn thought.
That’s the look of someone dead but alive.
Norn gritted his teeth, then slowly parted them to exhale.
“…I apologize I’ve been no help.”
Norn knew his place.
There was nothing he could have done on that fateful day of the final battle one year ago, and he bore no responsibility for Vera’s downfall.
Nonetheless, the feeling called affection was truly frightening. The first thing that arose in him upon seeing the declined state of the one he had served since childhood was, as expected, guilt.
“…Take care of your duties.”
A sunken voice uttered those words.
Norn bowed his head once more and left the room.
Creak—
The door closed, and the office was surrounded by darkness once again.
Vera stared blankly at the shut door for a while before slumping into his chair.
Buuuzzz—
The Holy Sword cried.
“So noisy.”
Closing his eyes, Vera murmured.
“Aren’t I alive? Aren’t I living this way because I want to? So don’t even think of criticizing me.”
Buuuzzz—
“I said to be quiet. If you make another sound, I’ll toss you into the furnace.”
The Holy Sword’s cries ceased.
Only then did Vera make an effort to sleep in that forlorn world.
‘I’ve handled the urgent matters.’
It was the first time in a long while that he would be able to relax.
It was almost evening, so all the noisy things would fall asleep soon. Then, he could dream again.
“I declare.”
Vera recited as he placed a hand over his chest.
“I will live to see another day tomorrow. I will fulfill my duty and protect this land. I won’t skip any meals. If I fail to uphold this, I shall lose both eyes and the use of my hands…”
A golden divinity embraced Vera’s body before gently fading.
“…In return, I will have a very sweet dream tonight.”
The authority settled in his heart.
And then Vera finally relaxed, his breathing stabilizing.
In this past year, this had been Vera’s unfailing routine each and every day.
There was a face he missed so dearly that it felt like he had to see it for even a day, or else he wouldn’t be able to go on.
‘It’s a curse, isn’t it?’
This was a curse.
It was a cruel curse which forced him to continue living despite having nothing left to live for.
The smile Renee showed in her last moments became shackles that chained his life here.
[I will live for myself.]
Vera, who wanted to be a faithful knight, still lived to protect the final command she had engraved upon him.
Buzzzz—
The Holy Sword cried quietly.
***
The Empire was in celebratory spirits akin to the Founding Day Festival.
The source of this atmosphere was none other than the Crown Prince’s wedding.
“Sir Vera!”
Somewhere among the Imperial Family, Albrecht called out upon spotting Vera disembark from the pure white carriage.
As he hurried over, his footsteps halted.
Vera opened his mouth.
“…It’s been a long time.”
A different Vera from the one he knew stood before Albrecht.
If not for the pure white ceremonial robe he wore, he could pass for a beggar from the now abolished slums with that disheveled appearance.
Albrecht felt dumbfounded.
Struggling to find the right words, he ended up hesitating uncharacteristically.
Their eyes met.
Seeing Albrecht’s lips twitch nervously, Vera wordlessly walked past him without a word.
The only thought occupying Vera’s mind was wishing for this to end quickly so he could finally sleep.
***
The Crown Prince of the Empire, Maximilian’s wedding.
After giving a congratulatory speech, Vera walked the streets of the Empire in shabby robes.
As the sun was still high in the sky, he needed to pass the time.
He had no destination in mind.
He was simply walking wherever his feet took him.
This meant that the end of Vera’s path often led to places filled with memories of someone.
Buuzzz—
The Holy Sword cried.
At the sound, Vera’s eyes widened.
Before his eyes stood a massive building, which was bathed in bright and warm sunshine.
The Imperial National Library.
- So, shall we read outside then?
A thought suddenly flashed through Vera’s mind as his body shook.
His unconsciously outstretched gaze turned to the far-removed bench at the end of the library garden.
Clench—
Vera’s fists tightened.
“…It was pointless to come here.”
And like that, he left the library.
***
As if explicitly to torment him, all the places Vera visited after were those he had been to with Renee.
The restaurant where they ate together, the plaza where they listened to music, the night market where they shared street food, and the hall where they attended the auction.
Vera’s expression increasingly crumbled.
He didn’t know why he kept heading to those places, and why his feet persistently retraced those memories.
Unable to understand why he couldn’t stop even as his heart churned in turmoil, Vera’s face seemed to be on the verge of tears.
Buzz—
The Holy Sword let out a short cry.
“Shut up.”
Vera snapped at it irritably.
All the while, his pace quickened towards a certain destination.
“I resent that woman so much. Leaving me like this yet not letting me die, refusing to be forgotten, and appearing in my head all the time to torment me. Everything about it makes me resent her.”
His gaze faced forward.
The heavy steps were so rough that the people Vera passed mistook him for one of the remnants of the old slum’s cartels.
“I resent that woman so much for making me suffer like this.”
As he spat out those words, the biting tone carried a scorching, searing heat.
Vera continued that action akin to self-torture, inflicting pain with each word that came out.
“Surely you saw this coming, knowing me as well as you did. Every moment I live is full of suffering. My light can no longer illuminate anything. My heart has grown cold.”
His steps led to the end of the Empire.
The emotions masked as anger pulled Vera along, driving him here.
“I…”
The place he finally arrived at was a dimly lit, tranquil civilian district.
The Empire’s Thirteenth District, the Slums.
Vera collapsed at the center of the unforgettable swamp that had once been called that.
“…I want to ask.”
He swept his hand across the ground.
The pitch-black swamp was gone, and what remained was a dirt floor, dampened by the tears that were leaking out.
“I want to ask. Why did it have to be this way? Why did you make that choice?”
He called it resentment.
Overwhelmed by sheer agony and nowhere to vent it, Vera attached that label to the emotions he felt towards her.
“If someone were to disappear, it should have been me. I want to ask you, why did you vanish instead?”
When even that failed to lessen his anger, he named it hatred.
However, even that wasn’t enough.
“I’m in so much pain. Despite being so greedy, I now no longer want to wish for anything. No, I’ve become incapable of wishing.”
Realizing that no amount of wishing would attain what he truly desired most in the end, he became frightened of wanting anything at all.
“I’ve withered away because I couldn’t wish anymore.”
Though his body grew stronger by the day, his heart was withering away.
Clench—
Vera’s hand clutched the dirt pile.
His upper body leaned forward, his forehead touching the ground.
“I…”
Buzz—
The Holy Sword cried out.
The sword that had always been by his side gave an answer to its collapsed master.
Clang—
Something around his neck slipped off and fell.
It was the cross Vera always wore.
And the ring hanging with it.
Vera’s eyes flew wide open.
Buuuzzzz—
The Holy Sword cried once more.
“I…”
His grip on the dirt tightened, turning the mud soaked with tears into clumps that squished and took shape.
Above that were more dripping tears.
Drip.
Drip.
The dirt absorbed them.
Each time he held back, the weight grew heavier. Unable to restrain himself any longer, he began to release the tears he had been holding in.
“…I don’t think I can endure it unless I ask.”
Vera’s teeth clenched together.
“I feel like I can’t go on living without asking why you did this to me.”
His expression contorted terribly, and his body trembled as strength coursed through his body.
Crackle—
The oath engraved into his soul blazed.
“For myself, for the life I have to live, I need to know.”
The moment he uttered those words, Vera let out a warm breath.
The last of his tears, barely clinging on, eventually fell.
The corners of his lips curled.
“So I will move forward.”
The smile he wore as his stare pierced through the bare ground was one that could be fittingly described as a madman’s.
Yet, it was also the smile of someone who had found a way forward.
The ashen eyes that had lost their spark shined with light once more.
Buuuzzzz—
The Holy Sword cried.
Vera clenched his trembling hands tightly and started to rise.
Buuuzzzz-
The Holy Sword cried again.
At last, Vera raised his head.
For the first time in a year, he looked up at the sky he had been avoiding.
He offered up the oath in flames—
—Still clinging to the one thing he wished for.
Vera glared at the heavens.
***
Orgus stopped in his tracks.
Crumple—!
The space folded.
All of the paths began to go astray.
From the moment of its creation until now, it took on a form Orgus had never once experienced.
[…You’ve come.]
Orgus had a feeling.
That the time had come for this long distortion to end.