The Child and the Adult (2)
"There's a person over there, Urnil!"
It had been about three months since Akasa, following Urnil's advice to expand his range of movement, finally spotted another human.
A mother was with her child, and the child was tugging at her hem, whining. Their clothes, made of coarse, rough fabric, seemed to tell the story of their difficult lives.
Akasa, having spotted them from a distance, spoke with excitement.
"It's a mother and a young child. They must be a family."
Urnil added in a serious tone.
"Ah?"
At Urnil's words, Akasa hesitated. His footsteps, which had been about to dash forward in joy, came to a sudden halt. Having already discussed this with Urnil, Akasa knew well: he must never, under any circumstances, reveal himself in places where official correspondence from Cellabris might pass through.
Becoming cautious, Akasa curled his body into the tall grass and watched them.
"If they're related to a temple... does that mean I can't make contact?"
Akasa tilted his head at that and asked.
"All five temples? Surely one of them might be okay."
"...No."
At the honest answer, Urnil's laughter echoed. Akasa quite liked the sound of that laughter ringing in his mind.
"Yes. After the 7th King, Bayarat, spread the Essence."
"Huh? You mean there's a place that isn't?"
Urnil explained.
History is a truly tedious subject. It is usually a study of connections to people from eras that have nothing to do with oneself. In that respect, what Urnil taught Akasa subtly veered away from the nature of "history." Because what he spoke of were not dead facts learned from books without the memory of the past, but vivid, firsthand experiences.
Therefore, every historical descriptor he used came with a prefix:
"Back when I was a bit younger in Cellabris..."
Akasa asked with a puzzled face.
"Uh, then that's strange. There is no Earth Temple in Cellabris now."
"What?"
Jongdaesuksa (High Priest of the Order). Even young Akasa knew what that title meant. They were the elderly residing at the headquarters of the temples, the leaders of the order.
"The... High Priest of the Order?"
"Oh, but then... couldn't the King just appoint a new High Priest?"
It meant it was impossible. So Akasa offered another opinion.
"Then, what if the people of the temple recommended someone as the High Priest?"
"Why?"
Akasa thought, frustrated. Why were people in the old days so bound by formalities? Urnil said:
Akasa was rendered speechless, his mouth agape.
Akasa gasped in awe. These history stories he heard from Urnil were truly fascinating. *'It wasn't this interesting when the Priestess Order talked about it.'* Akasa was learning that conversations could be vastly different depending on the person, and how precious the joy of a simple chat could be.
"So that's why they closed the gates."
If they closed it, they could open it again. Akasa liked that thought very much.
During their conversation, Urnil had reached a firm conclusion regarding the concern he had been pondering.
"Exiles."
At that word, Akasa's body stiffened. They were the people the Sun Priestess's boatman—who had left this place to respect his choice—had turned into corpses. Among those corpses were both men and women. Akasa saw the adult woman and child in front of him a little differently now.
They were no longer just a mother and child, but a child and a woman who could kill herself for the sake of that child.
"Yes. I understand."
Akasa tried to leave with a regretful expression. It was then that a new presence appeared. Akasa saw a man approaching the woman and child he had seen from afar. Since Urnil had said there were no social institutions nearby, the man was undoubtedly another Exile.
*'Is it the husband?'*
It was a reasonable deduction. The woman and man didn't look that far apart in age. Akasa hid in the grass and observed the man's appearance. Gray hair, similar to his own silver hair. A poncho that looked smaller than his own clung to his upper body. His slightly slender shoulders and height gave him a decent build, and his impression was one that suited a gentle smile.
Akasa, having grown up in the open desert, had excellent eyesight, which was why he could see so clearly.
Akasa watched their movements, carefully hiding in the grass. And the next moment, Akasa felt his blood run cold, and he could only collapse where he sat.
The man, who had approached as if he were an acquaintance, pulled a dagger from the fabric covering his upper body and plunged it into the woman's throat. He caught the falling woman, then approached the child who was frozen in place, unable to move. The man stabbed something into the boy. Then, he caught the boy's body as it collapsed, as if all the strength had left it. While Akasa, still undiscovered, watched the entire scene, the man cut off the arm of the child who was trembling, unable to even cry or scream.
The child's eyes rolled back, and he fainted.
The direction the blood-dripping arm headed was the man's mouth. Akasa felt as if he were going to lose consciousness. There was no crying. No screaming. The pain seemed to become silence, suppressing the air in that place. And that silence soon became death. Even as the blade pierced the boy's throat, the boy didn't even show a reflexive flinch.
And the man disappeared the way he had come. It was the direction Akasa had been moving.
Only when the blood from the wounds of the mother and child flowed down to stain the earth red, forming a small pool because it could no longer spread, was Akasa able to move. He immediately turned back and fled. He knew, even without Urnil telling him. That was a being he must never associate with.
How far had he run? Suddenly, at Urnil's voice ringing in his ears, Akasa stopped, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
He felt like he might vomit, but his labored breathing hindered him. Akasa thought it was better this way. Akasa said, as if squeezing the words out:
"He killed them. He really killed them."
Urnil spoke indifferently. To Urnil, the value of death was not much different. Unless it was someone who didn't catch his interest, death was a gift given equally to all life.
"Right in front of my eyes, the mother, and then the child's arm..."
Akasa felt dizzy as he recalled the scene. It hadn't been long since he'd seen a corpse. To survive, he had even caught and cleaned fish himself, following Urnil's advice. But seeing a corpse that was already dead and witnessing a murder scene right in front of his eyes were different things. Above all, that murder had a purpose.
To eat. An act that even wild animals wouldn't commit against their own kind. That man had done it without a shred of hesitation. It was a raw, alien terror that Akasa had never felt in his entire life.
Akasa barely nodded. Urnil could tell that Akasa was in a state of severe mental shock. A stream of Essence flowed from the Karmatio, the bracelet where the god resided, into Akasa's body. The Essence rushed through his body and finally surged into his head through his spine.
Akasa felt his chaotic mind slowly calming down.
"Urnil?"
Akasa did as Urnil said. There were several light scratches on his cheek.
"...Yes."
The enemy could find his trail and pursue him. Understanding the implication, Akasa changed direction. The opponent was an Exile who ate people, specifically children. And he was a child. Now that he knew he had left a trail for the predator to follow, he had to confuse the opponent as much as possible.
Akasa hoped the opponent didn't have much knowledge in tracking prey, and he took a wide detour.
It took half a day just to turn back, following Urnil's instructions. Even in the middle, he used the diversion tactics he had learned from Urnil several times to split his trail in multiple directions.
Exhausted, Akasa returned to the vicinity of the Red Tree, his shelter, and sat hidden beneath its roots. The dark shade of the tree massaged his tired legs.
"Will it be safe? Urnil."
"Will I be alright?"
Akasa was anxious. He had run this far against an adult. But now, there was no delay like being dragged away; a murderer who would kill him if he caught him was nearby.
"But, I'm scared, Urnil."
Urnil sighed. He was a god, and he could help Akasa. But literally, his help was just "help." In reality, the dangers spread out before them were stepping stones Akasa had to cross. And Akasa was still a child. He needed help where someone would "step in and solve it instead." Even if Urnil helped, Akasa was too young.
"What?"
But there could be Exiles there, too. Urnil deliberately didn't mention that. Akasa's trembling finally subsided a little.
"Where should we go?"
Crossing the river. What Urnil suggested was a good method. Akasa had used that method to shake off Cellabris soldiers twice before.
"Let's do that. Is there anything I should pack?"
Akasa forced a smile at that.
Once he set his goal, Akasa's actions were agile. He hurriedly packed his weapons and threw away the items he had made for training into the deep grass.
Every trace of training and movement here belonged to Akasa. Urnil pointed that out. Akasa planned to erase all traces of human presence and leave this place. Not long after, having completed all the work, Akasa moved inside the roots of the Red Tree. Behind Akasa, who was picking up the staff he had left there, a strange voice was heard.
"...Why is a child in a place like this?"
Akasa suppressed the scream that was about to burst out and turned around. A man carrying a strange sword was looking at him with bewildered eyes.