The Little Rat Ramon (5): Farewell
The Astaria Empire. The Prime Minister's office.
"The child?"
"She's asleep in my room, Your Excellency."
At Rebecca's reply, Prime Minister Andarlef let out a long sigh — a breath threaded with worry, and no small measure of unease.
"I would ask that the knights be sworn to silence on this, Duncan."
"It shall be done."
A girl discovered in the former emperor's palace — a place already regarded as ill-omened. The matter had to be buried under the strictest secrecy.
"That aside, what exactly is that girl...? Don't tell me she's a demon—"
"I was holding her, Commander, and the magic stone didn't so much as flicker."
Rebecca cut across him before he could finish. A crimson magic stone sat in the center of every knight's breastplate — stones that flared red in answer to the peculiar mana that demons gave off.
"Even so, just to be safe, we ought to summon the mages—"
"The magic stone showed no reaction at all!"
"R-right. Ahem."
Under her scorching glare, Duncan cleared his throat.
"Hmm..."
The Prime Minister groaned softly, his face drawing into a frown as he turned something over in his mind.
"Your Excellency — do you have some idea?"
"I cannot be certain, but the shape of those horns..."
Another deep sigh.
"They bore a striking resemblance to those of the Druids I once saw in the old records."
A heavy silence settled over the office.
"...Druids."
The Druids. Priests of the World Tree, who had dwelt in the Linnel Great Forest, cutting themselves off entirely from the outside world and holding fast to the principles of remaining unarmed and at peace. Recognized under the Hainel Continental Accord as the continent's one and only neutral nation, they had kept their ancient traditions for some three hundred years — and had been wiped from the earth in a single night.
"It's been well over a decade now."
Wiped out by none other than the former emperor's imperial suppression force. Not a soul left. Every last one of them.
"You both know this well enough."
"......"
It had begun with a rumor. A rumor that, from some nameless day, had begun to seep quietly through the people. That there were otherkin in the Linnel Great Forest who lured travelers into traps and ate them alive. That they burned the outposts along the forest's border with the empire and slaughtered the soldiers without mercy. That the empire's people continued to starve because those creatures were cutting off the supply routes — and on, and on.
"I remember. The entire populace was in a frenzy."
Duncan muttered the words. It had been collective madness — a scapegoat chosen as an outlet for rage. At the height of the former emperor's tyranny, the crowds had been easily swept up by a rumor whose source no one could even name. Agitators had worked their tongues in the plazas day after day, and hatred for Druids who had never once set foot beyond their forest had spread across the empire like a furious wildfire.
"But that rumor..."
"That's right. It was nothing but a vile scheme to swell the ranks of the army."
What the empire gained was the largest volunteer force in its history. And the bitter irony was that not a single one of those soldiers had ever actually laid eyes on a Druid.
"Most of the common folk who enlisted under that agitation died on foreign battlefields that meant nothing at all. Degal Imaian, who knew full well that the Druids held to the principles of nonviolence and peace, assembled the Linnel suppression force entirely from serious criminals — murderers, rapists, and their like — for fear the rumor would be exposed."
Devils wearing human skin. The Linnel Massacre they carried out. The pretext: a charge of treason that did not hold a shred of truth. The price of their silence: immunity for their own grave crimes.
"A disgrace that will stain the empire's history for as long as it is written."
An atrocity that could never be forgiven. The historians of that dark age recorded the horror thus:
Even the depths of hell would not have been more terrible.
"......Damn it."
Rebecca bit down on her lip as rage surged up her throat. The human refuse who had burned her own village — had they done the same unspeakable things to this girl?
"Wait, Your Excellency. Then you're saying that child was locked in a prison for more than ten years?"
"...Only she herself would know that for certain. But given the timing, it is a fair conclusion."
Ten long years. How was an empire supposed to wash away a sin carved that deep into a child's life?
"Commander, is Her Majesty in her office?"
"Yes, Your Excellency. She is attending to state affairs."
"Come with me to see Her Majesty at once."
"As you command."
The girl's existence. And the shockwaves that existence would send. Above all else, it was a matter that demanded immediate report.
"And... for the time being, I would ask you to take charge of the child's protection, Miss Rebecca."
"I shall guard her with my life, Your Excellency!"
The reply rang out loud enough to shake the room. The Prime Minister nodded, looking rather pleased.
"Child."
A voice. Gentle, and so very dear.
"Child. My good child."
In a space where white flowers bloomed in full — Mr. Ramon smiled.
"Mr. Ramon...?"
Those clear, bright eyes. A tail that swayed. Ash-gray fur that looked so soft she could have buried her fingers in it. Mr. Ramon, whom she had believed dead, stood right there before her.
"You're safe. Mother granted my request."
Thank goodness. Truly, thank goodness.
Golden tears slipped from the girl's eyes.
"Don't cry. I have arrived safely on the other side."
The other side? What did that mean? No — that wasn't what mattered now. Mr. Ramon was alive. He was right here.
"When was it, I wonder, that I received Mother's call? No matter how I turn it over, I cannot remember. I was simply... so happy to have met you, so precious were the hours we spent together, that I let myself be consumed by the greed of wanting to make you truly smile."
The words unspooled like a soliloquy. The little rat she had been reunited with was pouring out things she could scarcely understand, but the girl was too full of joy to spare a thought for such trifles. It did not take long, however, for a strange unease to catch her attention.
"Because of that greed, I even forgot my mission."
"W-wait, please, what do you mean by—"
"So please. Do not make the same mistake I did."
A dread came creeping in. The tears that had been falling stopped cold. The girl tried to rush toward the rat, but she could not.
"Mr. Ramon...?"
Drawn at her feet was the boundary between the living and the dead. Their very conversation had been a thing that defied the order of the world.
"Ah, it seems our time is already up. I give thanks for Mother's mercy, that she allowed me this last farewell."
White petals scattered on the air. Mr. Ramon grew farther and farther away. He turned his back and walked toward a forest dense with radiant light. She tried to cry out, to stop him, but no voice would come. The hand she stretched with all her strength could not reach him.
"Ah, and if you can, please be sure to give my regards to the wise owl. Tell her that this foolish rat has fulfilled his mission and been gathered into Mother's arms. Hmm... come to think of it, I never did keep that promise. I can only apologize. If even the body I left behind there might serve as atonement, I would gladly have it so."
Ah. Yes. This was a dream. And she would never dream it again — of that she was almost certain. She would never meet Mr. Ramon again, not for all eternity. Her mind understood. But her heart, swelling with a grief that threatened to tear it in two, could not. The girl wailed, and ran and ran toward the rat as he walked away.
"No. No, Mr. Ramon!"
"Please don't go. Don't leave me here alone."
The dead of night.
"—!"
Rebecca started awake in the small hours, heart slamming against her ribs. A seizure had taken the girl without the slightest warning. Cold sweat ran over her whole body, and hands that had lost their way clawed at empty air. Worse than any of it was her breathing — a thin, failing sound, as if it might give out at any moment.
"Young lady? Young lady!"
She tried to shake her gently awake, but the seizure only grew worse. She's having a nightmare. Realizing there was nothing else she could do, Rebecca drew the child into her arms. A thin, wasted body. Her hands grew newly careful, as if the girl might shatter like a glass goblet.
"Hh-hic, hh-hh...!"
"It's all right. It's all right."
The girl's body was ice-cold, as though Rebecca were holding a corpse. Helplessness gnawed at her heart. Damn it. Vice Commander of the Knight Order, and what have I been doing this whole time? It's all right, it's all right — like a parrot. What the hell is all right about any of this? Wretched, Rebecca clenched her teeth.
"Don't go...! Don't go!"
Moonlight leaking through the window lit the girl's struggling, naked form. The memory of the bath rose unbidden. Stripping away the filth that had clung to that body for so many years had been no easy task. Worse still, holding onto a girl who was desperately trying to throw her off had been an ordeal in its own right.
"No...! Don't leave...!"
But what had truly tormented her were the scars of whip and burn carved into every inch of that body. The bruises gone black and dead. The marks of violence.
"I'm right here."
Perhaps some fragment of that earnest wish reached her. The trembling gradually subsided.
"So don't cry, young lady."
From the girl came a faint scent of pine.