Farewell. Once Again (1)
The Raoras River flows wide and long, renowned for its abundant catch. This bounty is enjoyed by any fisherman who manages to hook even a single fish from its waters. Because of this, when a lucky fisherman manages to get by for the day without trouble, people would say with a mix of envy and jealousy that he lives in a "particularly prime spot."
In other words, if one were to say they were responsible for their family's livelihood through fishing on the Raoras, most people would naturally accept them as a seasoned angler who had spent their fair share of time casting nets into those waters.
Demz Village was no different in this regard.
Lukedi, the village chief of Demz, cast his fishing line into a calm eddy and waited. Before long, the rod began to twitch. As if it were nothing, Lukedi pulled the rod, unhooked the thrashing fish, and tossed it into a wicker trap set at the water's edge.
"The water is good today. Caught one right from the start."
"Damn it. This is unfair. Why is it always the chief who catches them first? Are you using better bait than the rest of us?"
Slem, who had been casting his own line nearby, grumbled.
"Isn't it just a difference in experience?"
Lukedi replied in a relaxed tone, baited his hook again, and swung the rod with a practiced motion. The hook, now carrying a piece of meat, sank into the calm surface.
The two were preparing a meal. Usually, preparing a meal means readying ingredients already on hand, but the daily routine in Demz Village was somewhat different.
As most of the residents were former Exiliers who had settled down, they cherished preserved food deeply. Therefore, aside from their rations, they were sincerely diligent about securing fresh food day by day. This was a trait shared by the villagers in general, not just the hunters.
"Honestly, I’m quite surprised. I didn't think you’d ever come back to this village."
"Why? Are you saying a man who’s finished his business shouldn't show his face again?"
Lukedi scratched beneath his white beard. He was at a loss for words. After a moment of contemplation, he decided to be blunt.
"To be honest, yes."
"Is it because of that incident?"
"What else would it be?"
The chief of Demz wore a faint smile. However, Slem found it hard to be certain if it was a genuine smile.
"It’s true that many people received help from you. I, and the other villagers, are grateful for that. But the crime committed by the person you brought here is something that can never be forgiven."
Slem nodded. Lukedi was talking about the young man Slem had brought into the village as one of their own long ago. The serial killer who, after entering the village, had murdered and eaten a young child.
"At the very least, those who settled in this village are people who wanted to live as 'normally' as possible. Do you understand what that means, Slem? Normal, I mean."
Slem did not answer. Instead, he carefully unhooked the fish he had caught and placed it into the trap.
"We are those who were banished from the Sovereign’s land, or their descendants, trying to live a human life. Everyone living in this village has wished for that. But that guy you brought ruined that possibility completely. We can no longer trust the people you bring as easily as we did before. Even if we know your intentions were good."
"I know. That’s something I wish for as well. That’s why, even if I had ten mouths, I wouldn't have an excuse for what Kizzel did. It was clearly my mistake. I failed to grasp the nature of the beast, and that’s what caused the catastrophe."
"You can see through beasts so well, yet you can't see through a person?"
"If a beast wears a human mask, is it a beast or a human? Conversely, if a human acts like a beast, is that a beast? Or a human?"
Slem’s words were ambiguous.
It was a question of morality, but it also spoke to the essence of being an Exilier. However, the chief felt that Slem was subtly making excuses for his own failure to see through the well-packaged moral corruption.
"Let’s stop. I’m not here to argue with you about the tragedy of the past. It’s a heartbreaking issue, but I don’t want to blame you anymore. At least, I don't."
"I appreciate that."
Lukedi, having received such a sharp acknowledgment, pulled up his rod as it shook for the third time. A large trout was hauled up.
Regardless, the cause of the past tragedy was the opponent who had deliberately hidden their true nature. To blame the one who was deceived for failing to see through such a person was not something an elder respected by the village should do.
Lukedi quickly changed the subject.
"So, you’ve brought another child, and you still haven't learned your lesson?"
"This child is different. Do you know how sharp and capable they are? If I told you what I accomplished with that child, you’d be surprised, Chief."
The chief was surprised. Had he ever seen this young man talk about a child with such joy? Lukedi recalled that there had been a time, long ago. That memory had been buried deep by the weight of that one incident.
"That kind of talk can wait. I’d rather talk about the child's origin."
"Were you the type to care about such things?"
"I wasn't. In normal cases. But that’s a Highsider bloodline. I don't want to get involved with the Cellabris army while keeping them here."
"What? Did the army come here?"
"They did."
"Isn't that dangerous?"
To the Sovereign’s army, Exiliers are nothing more than targets to be purged. That was the same for the people who considered themselves the kings of kings. Since their mere existence was equivalent to adding another element of danger to the wilderness, that was the truth Slem knew.
However, the chief was saying that such soldiers had come. It was only natural for Slem to react with such shock.
To Slem’s question, Lukedi shook his head and said:
"It’s fine. No matter how much they are an army, we are people living quietly. Even if we aren't protected by the army, we can certainly steer clear of being targets for subjugation. That’s how it’s been, in fact."
"That sounds strange. You say you don't want to get involved with the army, but then you say it’s fine that they came?"
"I mean that the general interest of the army is fine. They need bases to rest, too. A place like this doesn't require much of the army’s hierarchy, so it makes for a very good intermediate stop. But when we meet them in connection with their own people, who knows how they might react? We are Exiliers, after all."
Slem understood Lukedi’s reaction.
Exiliers. Those who received a sentence of banishment, which is more disgraceful than death. If the members of this village were purely Cellabris citizens, a single child wouldn't be a problem. But it becomes a problem when another race is harboring a Cellabris citizen.
It meant that the age-old pride of the "superior" race was the problem.
"If those people are human, they wouldn't say anything just by seeing a child. Or couldn't we just hide the child whenever the army comes?"
"Do you think that child can truly grow up like a human in a place where they have to do that?"
"The child decides that. Not us. And is that such a big deal? They are being given an environment where they can eat well and sleep well, at least."
Slem swished his fishing rod in frustration. When the fish wouldn't bite, he grumbled.
"This is my personal theory, but I don't know if you can carelessly judge what is 'human-like' without having lived it yourself. Chief. Since when did such assumptions and judgments become your habit? It sounds like you’ll be judging the child’s life carelessly before long, too."
"I won't be judging the child."
"I’m judging the behavior I just saw from you."
"You..."
"Shall I ask you honestly? How many people have you killed? Chief."
At Slem’s sharp words, the chief closed his mouth. Slem continued alone.
"At least four or five, I’d guess. If you’re an Exilier of your age, you must have committed that much murder just to survive. I stopped counting after twenty. Because considering the teeth that will be bared at me is more helpful for living than counting the number of people I’ve killed."
"..."
"Can we, with that kind of mindset, dare to measure and judge humanity? The standards for value judgment are all different. If we’re talking about making that judgment in the most extreme way, my judgment—having killed more people than you—would be more accurate. But that doesn't make it suitable as a standard for us to judge the child."
The conversation paused briefly. Both of their rods had shaken at the same time. The expressions of the two men, who hauled up their fish as if competing, crossed with seriousness.
The fish Slem caught was larger.
To the grumbling chief, Slem said:
"Judgment is important, of course. But that will be an appropriate tool only for a child who needs to be judged. In my view, what that child needs is not a tool, but an environment. You’ll understand what I mean once you spend time with them, Chief."
At this point, the chief couldn't help but ask.
"Slem. Why are you so obsessed with that child?"
The chief, having put the fish into the trap, was now looking straight at Slem with clear eyes.
"Honestly, I don't know much about the work you do. Except that you work under someone surrounded by rumors. The decisive reason I’ve kept ties with you is only because you occasionally bring people who need the village, people necessary for the village’s maintenance. But you’ve never shown this much enthusiasm for any of the members you’ve brought before. What’s the reason?"
"I killed Kizzel."
The words popped out so suddenly that Lukedi stopped breathing. He immediately thought of the murderer who had brought harm to the village and left behind an indescribable sense of betrayal. Soon, the chief let out a ragged breath and said:
"You killed him?"
"Yes."
"What... You couldn't kill Kizzel even after you expelled him from the village, could you? You said he was a person who contributed to your work."
"To be precise, the person I follow evaluated his usefulness."
"But now you’ve killed him?"
Slem nodded calmly. The chief let out a sound that was half-sigh, half-gasp. It was a good thing that the price for his sins had been paid, but the miserable end of a young man seen through the eyes of an old man was bitter. It was a feeling that could only be felt by a fellow Exilier.
Lukedi asked:
"How did he die?"
Slem answered calmly:
"I fed him to the wolves."
It was a chilling answer, and Lukedi rubbed the goosebumps that had risen on his old arms.
"...I see you’re still working as a trainer."
Slem nodded. But it was a shame to end the conversation like this. Not for his own satisfaction, but for the boy who had come with him. Lukedi threw out the question he hadn't yet resolved.
"I don't know how long it’s been since I heard such good news. But I wish you would tell me why you killed Kizzel. Your story right now is impossible to accept. Isn't it too different from your choice seven years ago?"