I Remember You
Clara Esther
"I... I am... the Queen of Amsia..."
The light that had illuminated the dark, cavernous depths was slowly dying. As the Queen's breath faded, the magic that answered to her life was losing its strength along with her.
The Queen of Amsia. I had no way of knowing what manner of place Amsia might be.
"I will remember."
Who you were. Whose hand lent you this blade. And who the woman lying before me now might be.
"Now I just... want to rest... a little."
Her trembling eyelids fluttered weakly, her lips wavering over the words she could not finish, and I gently covered her eyes with my hand.
"Rest, then."
"Will I... ever... see you... again...?"
Even with her eyes hidden beneath my palm, there was a certain yearning in the words she forced out through trembling lips. A kind of hope.
"If you wish it."
What words could one withhold from a woman dying before your eyes? But since this was all I could offer her, I could only lament my own inadequacy.
"Beware... the spiders..."
Worried for me now, of all times? And of spiders, no less...
Truly, a day to scramble one's thoughts. Perhaps it is not so much that something dwells in this day itself, but that something clings to In the Abyss as a whole. Every time I set foot in this place, it needlessly troubles my heart.
"You said it."
Truly.
The corpse of the spider queen, split in two — the lower body of a spider and the upper body of a human. I carried the human half in my arms and made for the cave's exit. Behind me, the lesser spiders were swarming over the abandoned spider half of her corpse, but there was no longer any reason to concern myself with them.
"Enemy, you say... It is not a wrong word."
There are words that cut to the bone.
Ordinarily, I too would have regarded her as nothing more than an enemy. Yet there was too much that sat ill with me to dismiss her so simply. If what I sensed was true, this woman had once been human. Beyond that, I cannot say for certain. It is merely something that caught at my instincts, somewhere deep.
But this much I could say with certainty: war — battle — is never waged by one's own will alone. That holds even for the very architect of a war, all the more so. How much truer it must be for a mere piece on the board like her.
"Let us say she was too precious to treat as a mere enemy, and leave it at that."
Or perhaps I should call it regret, if nothing else fits. There is no way to express it, nor to explain it. It may simply be that the memory of when those jiangshi came swarming has colored my judgment so. I do not know the precise reason this woman became a spider. But either way, is the sorrow not the same?
The heart of one who has changed — and the heart of one who must face such a person.
To think my tangled emotions would be reduced to that! And yet, if this bitterness of mine could be summed up as simply being struck by her face... it would not be far wrong, would it.
Down bad... Truly, not a bad way to put it.
"Yes, I suppose it is a truly lovely face, even by your standards."
"You mustn't be!"
I only said it to tease them, you see. It seems I cannot keep pace with them when it comes to riling people up.
"Though, carrying her about like this, she may well begin to decay, no?"
Which is precisely why it would be best to store this overflowing winter within my own body.
Tranquil Clarity — water untouched by ripple is a mirror most pure; it reflects all that surrounds it and dissolves itself therein. Thus shall it become winter.
In this season of bitter cold, this frost-laden chill would help preserve her in her current state. But this is no ordinary weather, nor any ordinary season. Naturally — when it is the work of a Winter Monarch, how could it be anything but different?
"It is the weather, after all. Nothing can hold its warmth forever."
It was not, in truth, a lie. It is hardly a matter that warrants explaining to them, and I have no confidence I could explain it in a way they would understand — so let that stand as my excuse.
The honest truth is that the last time I tried to explain this stage of cultivation, I nearly netted myself an utterly baffled junior disciple... though it has long since been far too late in the season for spirit boys to come wandering, so it is of no consequence.
"But people are approaching. Four in all."
As I emerged from the cave, the presence I sensed was unmistakably human. Two pairs of footsteps, heavy as though clad in plate armor. One pair comparatively light. And one pair making every effort to conceal its presence.
"The very picture of a party out of some fantasy novel."
A warrior, a swordsman, a scout, and one unknown. Hmm — the narrow stride belonged to a woman. Her steps fell twice as often as those of the armored pair, which meant her pace was not merely short-strided; she was holding herself to their speed to keep the formation intact.
In that case, I should let my presence be felt first. So long as they did not come at me with hostility drawn, this would be my first meeting here with those who were not enemies.
"The first sentient souls I have encountered in this place."
"Were we not, in fact, enemies until just now?"
To think they would paint me as so merciless a soul...
"Besides, I am carrying a corpse, you see."
What manner of jest is that supposed to be... Ah, their footsteps have slowed. They have caught the presence I let trickle out, it seems.
"There is no need to be tense."
Not that such words would loosen them. Best to speak face to face first.
"Would the cave not be the better place to talk? Or perhaps you would rather stand out in that biting wind?"
I approached them slowly, calling out as I came, and before I knew it the distance had closed enough for us to make out one another's faces. And in doing so, I learned one more thing.
"A mage, is it?"
The fact that the air around them glowed with light. It meant that someone among them could wield magic.
Now that their surroundings were bright and the distance was closed enough, let me look upon their faces.
At the fore, a red-bearded, burly middle-aged man stuffed into leather armor. At the rear, a knight in heavy plate with the visor down — one could not even tell their sex. In the middle, a white-haired woman in leather armor, bow drawn and trained on me, watchful.
And at the center, a woman in priest's robes, blonde and blue-eyed, gripping an antique staff with all her might.
"Not a mage — a priest, then."
So Clara is among them. The one in the priest's robes must be her, surely.
My steady scrutiny of the group must have worked upon their nerves, for I could see their wariness sharpening — so I spoke first.
"Did I not tell you there was no need for such tension? It has simply been a long while since I last looked upon a human face, so I was staring."
We were not about to fight, so there was no call for such a grim atmosphere.
"As you can see, I am an ordinary swordsman — Cheon Seojun. Now then, might I hear your introductions?"
Well, in this place I hold no renown whatsoever... so I am merely some swordsman or other, am I not?
The woman I took to be Clara stepped forward and spoke.
"I am Clara Esther, a priestess in service to Aria, Goddess of Prosperity."
Clara Esther, priestess of the Goddess of Prosperity... So the priest was Clara after all.
"But... the thing you are carrying — is that not a person's corpse?"
A corpse? Whatever could she mean...
"Ah."
It had not once occurred to me. Attempting a friendly conversation while holding a corpse — of course anyone with a working mind would be on their guard!
"You may find it hard to believe, but this woman was once called the Spider Queen. I freed her from that fate only a short while ago."
"The Spider Queen...?"
Deep distrust swam in her wavering blue eyes. Hard to believe indeed, then...
"Yes. I cut her in two — upper body from lower. I abandoned the lower half, so you may yet find it if you look."
"That's the truth... but how could you possibly have slain that many spiders!"
How contrasted they were — the warriors whose disbelief had hardened into resolve, and Clara, mouth agape, staring at me with an expression of sheer incredulity.
Clara's words kept coming, and at last she crumbled entirely.
"They certainly were a nuisance. Though if anything, there were far, far too many of them."
From how she spoke, it seemed she truly did possess some power to discern truth from falsehood.
"Have you, by any chance, passed through Everston recently?"
Her manner had changed all at once. Was it fear of a stronger foe? Or something else entirely?
"I do not know where this Everston lies."
"Everston is a village at the crossroads leading to the mountain pass. And we... found the village buried under the corpses of blade spiders."
Did you do this? The words went unspoken, but everything they meant was written plain in the eyes that watched me.
"Yes. It was I who did it."
"Good heavens... O Goddess...!"
Was it truly such a grievous matter, then — enough to twist her face skyward as she called upon the divine?...