Farewell. Once Again (2)
Seven years ago, a child was murdered in the village. Sharp, precise cuts from a blade remained on the boy’s legs and neck, and clear bite marks were visible on the severed limbs. When those marks were traced back to the home of a newcomer who had been welcomed into the village just months prior, the parents wailed in agony. The villagers were incensed and hunted the man down. But he was nowhere to be found, and everyone cursed Kizzel and Srem.
Srem, who had learned of the incident a bit late, lamented the wrongdoing and apologized to the villagers. It was impossible to know how much his words were accepted, but there were those who acknowledged his sincerity.
As far as Srem knew, the only one among them who truly understood was waiting for his answer now.
Srem spoke.
"I heard it directly: he was counter-attacked while hunting those who were tracking him, and he fell. I discovered a tombstone while scouting the path not far from where he died. Judging by the way the mound was packed, it seems an adult died and a child survived."
"Are you suggesting that child is the one who survived Kizzel?"
At the village chief’s question, Srem nodded.
"It is highly likely. I don’t know much about blades, but he carried weapons that would be difficult for a child to wield."
"Ah, I saw him too. He had a long staff and some kind of skewer."
The chief, realizing he had strayed from the topic, cleared his throat.
"But that is the outcome of how Kizzel met his end; it isn't the reason *you* killed him. I am curious about why you killed him. I don’t need to know the process of his death."
"Because he broke the iron rule and tried to kill a child with the beast I had entrusted to him. And above all, because he abandoned his status as a hunter."
"...Iron rule? What do you mean by abandoning his status as a hunter?"
"I am referring to the principles one must uphold when training a beast. A beast raised by breaking those rules will inevitably cause a disaster. Kizzel broke them. I apologize, but this is the only way I can explain it. The second reason is too complex for me to put into words."
Lukedi fell into thought. It wasn't so much that he was convinced, but rather that what Srem said was beyond his understanding. It wasn't a matter of moral decay; it was a matter of rules and personal philosophy.
'Abandoned his status as a hunter.'
Was that man even a hunter? The chief pondered, recalling that Kizzel did indeed have some aptitude for hunting.
'Is that related to why Srem kept Kizzel alive?'
Lukedi struggled to find logic in Srem’s words. At the very least, Kizzel must have held some value to Srem and his work, which was why he had been spared.
Because he lost that value, Kizzel had paid for his accumulated sins with his life.
Lukedi pondered a bit longer, but when no conclusion came, he irritably cast his fishing rod back onto the water’s surface.
Even though Srem had made the choice to let a serial killer live, it was difficult to view him as someone who lacked a universal moral compass.
Therefore, Lukedi decided to reserve his judgment on this question. Kizzel was dead. For now, that alone was worth the answer.
"Let me ask you something else."
"What is it?"
"About the question from earlier. Why do you want to settle that child in this village? You may have returned after a long time, but that doesn't mean the mistakes you made have been wiped clean. That child will grow up under those kinds of gazes."
"Even so, I am certain that the child will be able to grow up well in this village."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. That child, Asdin, is someone who has continuously forged his own life even in harsh environments. At the very least, that is my judgment. And if it weren't for that child, I would have been in danger myself."
"Danger? You?"
"You may not believe it, but we hunted a Taung together this time. Due to circumstances, there were no wolves around, so the boy and I had to take down the Taung by ourselves."
Lukedi asked back, his face full of shock.
"A Taung? Did a beast like that enter this forest?"
"Don't ask me. I never thought I’d encounter such a thing in this vicinity either. It woke from hibernation for unknown reasons. Even for me, it is difficult to speculate on the cause."
"Then, you weren't targeting the Taung from the beginning?"
"No. I have been exploring this area for the past half-year due to other matters."
"Is that related to the child?"
"No. It is related to my work."
Following Lukedi, Srem spoke as he placed his fish into the trap. If anyone else had said it, he would have dismissed it as empty talk meant to dump the child on the village.
But seeing Srem’s expression, Lukedi could not think that way.
"You are sincere. About wanting to settle the child in the village."
"When have I ever treated you with anything but the truth, Chief?"
Lukedi shook his head and replied curtly.
"Never."
After checking the inside of the trap, Lukedi nodded as if to say this was enough.
"I will accept the child. If he is accepted as a villager, he might become a decent adult."
Srem bowed his head to Lukedi, who was rising with the trap in hand.
"Thank you, Chief."
"No, you are right. Perhaps I have been thinking of my old age as a privilege for some time now. The position of being a village elder has made me that way. Without living through it myself, I wouldn't know whether worry is necessary or not..."
Following behind Lukedi, who was trudging along with the trap, Srem smiled quietly. He looked as if a heavy burden had been lifted from his mind.
"Ah, but tell me."
"What is it?"
"You. Do you intend to continue that work?"
Instead of answering, Srem stared blankly at Lukedi’s back. It was the back of someone who would never understand him.
"Of course, Chief. I am living for that very purpose."
"If you were to come, I could make an empty house in the village for you. It would be good for the child, too."
"You know, don't you? That I cannot do that."
"Still, one never knows what life will bring. If you ever feel like settling down, tell me anytime."
Srem thought that would never happen. But since he couldn't answer that way to the kindness being offered, he simply nodded, leaving the door open to the kindness approaching him.
"I will do that."
Asdin lay there, staring at the dark, unlit ceiling.
Warm water and meals shared with others. Clothes that were not a perfect fit, but were slightly loose and well-laundered. A comfortable place to sleep.
These were things that couldn't be compared to his days as a royal, yet Asdin felt a satisfaction from them that surpassed anything he had ever known.
However, the fact that he could enjoy such an environment again still didn't feel real.
[Your eyes are wide open. Can't you sleep?]
"Yes. That's right. I think it's because I slept a bit earlier."
[I suppose it doesn't feel real yet.]
Asdin smiled faintly. As expected, the entity that knew him best was spot on.
"Yes. Until yesterday, I was living in a cave and sleeping rough in the forest. Honestly, the bed feels even more awkward."
Body and spirit chuckled at each other.
"I never thought I would live among people. I thought I would be stuck living in the forest until I became an adult."
[I wouldn't have allowed it if it were a temple or the land of a monarch. Coming to a village like this is a great stroke of luck.]
"It's a bit funny to hear a god call it luck."
[It is, isn't it?]
It meant that it was only permissible because they were Exiles. It was an ironic statement, considering the boy's safety. That a village in a lawless zone would protect the boy, rather than a territory protected under a lord's rule.
But this was merely a means to protect himself from the pursuers who would come after him.
The land of the outcasts was always full of danger, and that danger did not discriminate by age or gender. It was a truth that had existed since the world began, and a truth Asdin had experienced for over half a year.
As Asdin was slowly reviewing those facts, he heard a light knock on the door.
"Asdin. It's me. May I come in for a moment?"
It was Srem. Asdin sat up and replied.
"Yes. Come in, Srem."
"Pardon the intrusion."
Srem opened the door, pulled a chair into the dark room, and sat down. He sat facing Asdin, who was perched on the edge of the bed.
"What's the matter?"
"I have something to tell you."
"Something to tell me?"
"Hmm. As of this hour, I am leaving."
"Leaving?"
Asdin stared at Srem with a shocked face.
"Suddenly? Why? How come?"
Urnil felt a sense of vertigo in the silence. Confusion was etched into Asdin’s voice. The person who was his only connection to the world, the one who had brought him here, had declared a farewell once again. Srem spoke in a calm voice.
"It was always meant to be this way. Do you remember? When I first met you."
Asdin nodded. He couldn't forget. It had been an impressive meeting.
"Back then, you and I agreed to cooperate temporarily to catch the Taung."
That was certainly true.
"But, you stayed with me until the winter ended."
"Yes. I brought you to the village, but that is where it ends. I brought you to the village because it was pitiful for a child like you to live like that. But now, I must do my own work."
The pity and compassion that the strong bestow upon the weak. Asdin was not weak. Srem knew that one who could survive alone in the wild could not be called weak.
But he was an adult.
Asdin vaguely understood that, too. The responsibility Srem held as an adult. But before that, he was a comrade who had shared life and death with him.
Asdin’s shoulders trembled with fear. The only connection he had was declaring a farewell once again.
A tone closer to an interrogation than a question spilled out.
"Weren't you a hunter of this village? Wasn't that why we were living together? What do you mean by 'work'?"
"That is something I cannot tell you. It is that kind of specialized work."
"If you go, are you not coming back here?"
"Perhaps. I only came to this vicinity in the first place because of my work."
"Why, why are you telling me this now?"
Asdin’s voice trembled.
"Why do all the people who come to me end up leaving me...?"
Tears welled up and flowed down his cheeks. Because of the lamp, it looked as if the sunset just before nightfall was flowing down Asdin’s face.
Srem was shocked by the sight. In his mind, Asdin was a tough child.
Therefore, he had not suspected for a moment that his actions would trigger such a psychological reaction.
"If it was going to be like this, you shouldn't have brought me here. If you were going to abandon me again, you should have just left me to live in the forest!"
It was a scream. The scream of someone who had already experienced the death of a part of himself, having been torn away from those who had tried to protect him twice before.
There was a slight stir of movement elsewhere in the house, but it soon went quiet. Srem sighed, grateful for the old chief’s discretion.
It was a tiring night. He hadn't even properly recovered from the exhaustion of the past few days, but what kept Srem moving was his experience as a hunter. Moreover, this was his own mistake. He had never anticipated such a reaction. And so, Srem had no choice but to speak.