The End of Winter

"I-I'm fine."

"Saying that in a voice half-dead lends it precious little persuasiveness, does it not."

Well, it was not as though the situation were that dire. With that fire over there, things could yet turn for the better. The only concern was whether the relief would be temporary. That was all.

But watching that one crawl toward the flames only to rise and run, hauling soldiers back and forth, even such ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠worries melted away.

Come to think of it, that helm made breathing look all the more difficult.

"Is... ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that so..."

"Lift your head a moment. I shall remove that helm for you."

She seemed to have just enough strength left to hold her head up, for she raised it with great effort — and in that instant, I slipped the helm off.

"You look rather refreshed now."

She was drenched in sweat; it must have been truly grueling. Had I known, I would have taken it off sooner.

"It really is... cooler."

And her manner of speaking had changed, I noticed. Well, when the body ails, the spirit flags with it. Rest as much as you can now. Though I doubt a body that sick could rest properly at all.

A brief glance into the chat window revealed it was still a swirling cauldron of chaos.

Well, it was... good? — no, it was not good to see them amusing themselves so. Regardless, they were clearly having fun.

But surely hair stuck to one's cheek would itch something dreadful.

When I brushed the princess's cheek and peeled the clinging strands away, she turned her head and met my eyes, gazing up at me.

"Have you something to say?"

"Th-that is... th... urp..."

I could not tell what she meant to say. With the look of someone about to retch again, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠silence seemed the wiser course.

"Spare your words."

At that, Princess Sila nodded and obeyed.

Come to think of it, sickness of this kind usually comes with fever, does it not? If the fever were severe, the armor would need to come off — otherwise she would slip into hypothermia in moments on this frozen ground.

"I will check you for fever. Do not be alarmed."

But these hands of mine were far too filthy for the task. And while I myself was fine, could the same be said of them? After all, this whole predicament was presumably the work of that nameless thing.

"Hmm..."

Yes — the face would do. In this battle, nothing had splattered so far as her head.

And I had heard the forehead was a fine place to gauge fever. There were certainly many spots convenient for the task, but the armpits or the backs of the knees were hardly places one could touch with impunity.

"Forgive the impropriety, but the circumstances leave little choice."

"......!!"

To look at me so averse — even I felt a small sting of hurt... Still, no fever, it seemed. A mercy.

"It does not appear to be a mortal illness. If it grows too taxing, you need only make your way over there, before the fire."

"Yes..."

Why she nods without nodding, hiding her face behind her hand, I could not fathom...

She seemed so reluctant to show her face that she answered with words alone — that was Princess Sila for you.

Yet even if she wished to move toward the fire, she was plainly too weak to stir, and a princess besides — she could hardly trudge over to the flames so easily.

The other soldiers, for their part, would not dare lay a hand on her. Left as things were, this would take considerable time.

"Hold still."

"Yes, y-YEET?!"

That shriek just now — it was the very image of our viewers.

So that is what people sound like when flustered. Their absurd little outbursts were not entirely without basis after all.

And yet even now she kept covering her face. Ever consistent, that one.

"Wh-what are you...!"

"If you take to your sickbed, it will be a burden on many, will it not?"

"Now then — am I swaying you too much?"

"I-I'm fiiine..."

Her speech had turned strangely odd... the poor girl really was in a bad way.

"Endure the discomfort a little longer. We are nearly there."

"Yeees..."

And at last, when we reached the brightly burning fire, Princess Sila's ragged breathing began, little by little, to settle.

"The higher one's attainment, the harder one falls ill, it seems."

There, was that one not collapsed as well — the one called Dave by the princess? Meanwhile some were well enough to carry their own comrades.

"And yet how is it that I alone remain hale?"

"Well, since I myself know not the answer, let us leave it at that."

So he had returned to the same persona after all. Still, seeing it again put my heart at ease. It felt as though some meddling interloper had been chased off.

Now then, quiet, all of you.

The young princess had only just drifted into sleep.

By the roaring blaze, I took a place offered by those arranging bedding and laid the princess down.

Thankfully, no one protested with any how dare you lay hands on Her Highness nonsense.

Such hotheadedness is not always a bad thing, but there was little room for indulging it now.

"Surely you did not knock her unconscious."

Well, she would not have had the strength for that besides.

"Is there truly nothing in this world you dislike?"

"Things I... dislike, you say."

Princess Sila, stirring briefly from sleep, answered the question. Somehow she had taken it as being directed at herself.

It had been aimed at the viewers originally, but if the princess wished to answer, there was no harm in it.

The only trouble was that I had thrown the words out as a jab... Still, she took it gracefully, and I was grateful for that.

"I... hate... the snow."

The speech that had softened a little hardened again like ice.

It must have been a manner of speaking she maintained deliberately. And so, with her body wound utterly taut, her tongue reverted to form — what else was to be expected?

But the snow... the snow, is it. She must carry some ill memory of it, then.

Something about snow that ratchets her tension skyward. Something like that.

I laid my hand upon the forehead of Princess Sila as ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠she trembled faintly. She had been washed clean of the filth before, so it mattered not.

She flinched for a moment, then soon let the tension go. Yes — the battle was already over; what need was there to be so tense?

Somehow it always felt as though I fought every battle alone, but what of it. For I know that your battles are not of this shape — the covering, the cleaving...

The kind whose only purpose is to kill.

How long have you led this place called the Sanctuary, borne the charge of humanity's deliverance, and fought against invisible problems no one else would even spare a glance for?

And that truth holds for winter as well — and for nightmares, equally.

"The Lord of Winter who tormented you was cleaved apart by this hand of mine, and the impure thing that oppressed you burned to ash upon this hand as well."

All that remained now was that nameless thing — the Abyss — was it not?

"So set your heart at ease. For at your side stands I."

"Yesss..."

"And should you suffer a nightmare, call upon me. I shall cleave even the nightmare asunder for you."

Here, there is nothing that will trouble you.

"Sleep well."

Just as Princess Sila gently closed her eyes and slipped into sleep, they suddenly flew wide open, and she called to me.

"S-Seojun... nim."

"What is it?"

Whatever could it be, that she opened her eyes with such desperate force — as though, if she did not speak now, she would never be able to say it?

Princess Sila's widened eyes were enormous, looking as though they might pop free if she were careless.

Still, having a base to them, they were rather endearing.

"When I wake... would it be... all right to call you Seojun... nim?"

Hm. Seojun-nim, is it...

"Few are those I have granted the use of my name."

"I-is that so... forgive my slip of the tongue..."

Why are you despairing all on your own? I had not yet finished speaking.

"And those few were, without exception, beautiful people."

Beautiful in spirit, even the men among them.

Though how their stories ended was not always a happy one... but still.

"Sila. Do you consider yourself beautiful?"

"I-I... do not really..."

She seemed about to say she did not know —

"I... think I am... beautiful."

Why did this woman tense up again? In any case — she does consider herself beautiful.

"Good. Then you have my leave. Call me Seojun-nim."

As Princess Sila closed her eyes once more and drifted off, I kept watch at her side and checked the chat.

That damned "Seojju," honestly... Clara, one day this debt shall be repaid. Hm... what should I have her do, I wonder.

Come to think of it, just how large was the gap between Princess Sila's age and my own...

The age when one merely felt a chill in one's side was long behind me — frost had already settled in its place.

"The snow is melting."

Though the pace at which it melted seemed anything but ordinary. This world's winter was drawing to its end.

Which meant the time was drawing near for my own winter to end as well.