Aspen, The Insurrection (2)
Aspen had confessed with difficulty. It must have taken considerable courage for a brother fifteen years her senior to admit weakness to his younger sister. Out of respect for that, Aspen decided to share a secret of her own.
Aspen spoke as though it were the most ordinary thing in the world. "I fed Father a truth serum."
Pontima's expression was that of someone who had just had a fistful of hair torn from their thinning forehead. "You did what to whom?"
Aspen shrugged. The gesture seemed to ask if it wasn't amusing, yet her own face had gone cold and rigid. "At first I thought Father had done something truly extraordinary. When he said no one in the family would have to sacrifice themselves anymore, I assumed he'd achieved something remarkable."
When the Peres family reclaimed Aspen, she had been hovering on the brink of death. Struck by an orc's spear and rammed by a monster, she had been waiting only for the end. Yet a recovery potion of miraculous potency had saved her. She had lain in a clean bed, receiving treatment that felt almost futuristic. Because of that, she had been genuinely pleased at the time, knowing nothing.
Then came the revelation. The entire family were deserters. "It was confusing, but by then every Peres except me had already sworn loyalty. If that was what everyone wanted, I had to follow. That was what I'd been taught since childhood. Still, honestly, it made me furious."
Aspen understood the family's secrecy. The old royal logic held that the heavier one's tongue, the safer one was from enemies. But she could not help feeling slighted. At the very least, she and Nathan—who had nearly died—deserved to know the truth.
The Peres family had once ruled a small kingdom. Though they had ultimately submitted to the Federation, the fact that such a tiny royal house had survived outside the Federation's embrace spoke to their capacity to endure countless crises and intrigues. Among the family's capabilities were those of spies and interrogators.
"I slipped the vial from Novic's robes and poured a little into Father's waterskin. Since he was the one who taught me the technique, he might even feel proud rather than angry if he ever found out."
The most terrifying quality of the truth serum was not that it made one spill every secret. Aside from a faint floral scent detectable only to the most sensitive noses, it was nearly colorless and odorless, with no side effects. Its taste was indistinguishable from water. That was the greatest weapon of the Peres secret art known as "Confession." Its victims never even realized they had been dosed. They only blamed their own unusually loose tongue that day.
Even the head of the Peres family was not exempt. Without realizing what had happened, Andau Peres lost his composure. The man who was usually as cold and calculating as ice, as heavy and immovable as stone, inexplicably lashed out at Nathan with unnecessary anger and emotion. While Andau thrust his face into Nathan's and berated him, Aspen waited carefully for the moment when she could confess everything that remained unspoken.
And Nathan... 'It's all right if I don't return. Half my heart will remain on the ground below.'
He confessed before Andau did.
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"I made the worst confession of my life. Smelling the breath of a man who might become my father-in-law."
Aspen lowered her head, covering her face with both hands. "I made him confess everything he'd been brooding over alone, just from the smell of his breath. I must have gotten the dosage wrong. I really am insane."
Pontima could not even think of a reply. She tried to imagine herself as Nathan. A fiery confession made before one's unrequited love, before that person's entire family, before a suspicious villain—while knowing nothing. Should one laugh or cry? Should she tell Aspen to just forget it? Since Nathan himself was not here, even that worry felt meaningless.
"I thought it was just the kind of sentiment possible at that age... but there was a reason behind those sudden words after all. Damn it, as a fellow man I feel sorry for him. What did you do, Aspen?"
Pontima had no intention of meddling enough to help Nathan, but she had no desire to laugh at the fate of a boy who might already be dead. The corner of her mouth that had nearly twitched upward fell on its own. Only then did Pontima notice the suspicious context.
"Wait. A man who might become your... what?"
Instead of answering immediately, Aspen stared into the palm that covered her eyes. Father-in-law. She had just said father-in-law. Once, during an operation, the knight order had been scattered. The boy and girl who had each believed the other dead met again a month later, looking haggard, tears and snot streaming down their faces. She had thought nothing more embarrassing could ever happen. That terrible operation outside the border had ended in Baylard, the Federation's capital. Only after the captain's body—who had treated them like his own children—was buried in the family mausoleum did the mission truly conclude.
Aspen thought back. What had she been thinking then? During the week of leave granted for unit reorganization. When Nathan mentioned it was his birthday and she secretly bought him a drink. What had she been thinking? Excited, she had drunk more than Nathan himself, then taken him back to the room she was staying in. 'Aspen, damn it, what the hell was this crazy woman thinking?'
Looking back, she had said some rather harsh things to Nathan even then. After the fact, it was embarrassing to say, but they should keep some distance. Since neither of them knew when they might die, they shouldn't talk about love or anything like that. Getting worked up like this time was too much trouble. For people who faced death as part of daily life, affection became a more complicated matter than it was for others.
Yet it was not a problem that could be solved by making promises. Aspen herself, even after saying those words, had begun to quietly imagine a future with Nathan. "It was like a secret, personal fantasy. The kind you draw all the more desperately because you know it will never come true. Not many Lion Wing Knights live to die of old age."
So a few days ago, she had repeated her rejection with firm resolve. In a stronger tone. I have never thought of our relationship as seriously as you do. It was also something she was telling herself. Even if she could not manage it, she had to from now on. Because she hated it. She did not want to see Nathan fall into greater danger than he already had. She never wanted Nathan to throw himself away for her sake, or for her revenge. Aspen was not the type to feel dark satisfaction watching a lover's sacrifice. She did not want to be a hostage anymore. She did not want to become someone who would hunger for revenge because they had parted through death. Then the method was simple. Hold back the tears that threatened to spill, tighten her stomach, and just throw it all away. It had seemed like a perfect plan in theory, but there was one thing Aspen had overlooked.
"That damned fool wasn't the type to spare his own life just because I told him to."
Veins rose on the back of Aspen's hand gripping the sword. "He poured oil on the fire without even knowing how much it tormented me. I'm pretty sure I told him to come back alive, but if he's going to sit there on the roadside with his life hanging by a thread, what does that make the person who let him escape? What a rotten junior."
Pontima, who had been listening quietly, felt another suspicion rising. These were words Aspen would never have said to her eldest brother under normal circumstances. Secret, personal stories, just as Aspen herself had described. Yet she was spilling them so freely.
"Don't tell me you..."
Unlike Pontima, whose understanding sometimes twisted from exhaustion, Aspen was quick to notice. Before Pontima could finish, Aspen pulled a vial from her pocket and shook it. "That's right. I took a spoonful of the truth serum myself. So what."
Pontima had been the youngest sibling with little involvement in military affairs. She had tried to maintain formality like a guardian, but her tone completely collapsed. "You've gone mad."
"I like that tone. We're siblings, after all. From now on, could you treat me without all the formality? It's awkward every time we meet."
Aspen's lips curled upward like those of a pleasantly drunk person. Of course, "Confession" was not alcohol and did not induce intoxication. It was simply her original personality—something Pontima had never seen—emerging.
"I put Confession in my own water cup from time to time. It's not an addiction or anything, so don't worry. It's just that sometimes, when facing a major crossroads in life, it helps me be honest with myself."
"Honest with yourself?"
"Yes. I pushed everything else aside and thought about it. The family's will, the family's policies, the family's traditions, that lingering belief that 'Father wouldn't do that.' I shoved all of it aside. Then I thought about what I might be missing, what I truly wanted. Slowly, calmly."
One. That operation in the wasteland had clearly been reckless. It was not merely because the orc horde was large that Aspen and Nathan had failed to shake them off. The carrier pigeon they had sent to report the orcs' location had returned carrying orders. Flee to the 3rd military camp on the wasteland hills. They had to reach that location on the designated date. It was an unreasonable order, but they had followed it without question. If the order came through a military druid, it meant Federation Army Command was involved in the chain of command. There must be a reason. Perhaps because of an allied retreat. Maybe reinforcements were coming. But after a long standoff, what appeared was not allies. It was some kind of flying object. Aspen and Nathan had tasted hell there.
"Thinking about it now, it couldn't have been a military order. The Federation wouldn't have wanted to increase the Floating Arena's assets, and they certainly wouldn't have helped the Peres family desert. It's more realistic to think Father used his connections and lies to overstep his authority."
It was entirely possible. He could have done it with the family's power alone, without borrowing anyone else's hand. There were more than enough Peres members in high military positions besides Pontima. They were all in the Heavens now.
"From the beginning, the order to scout that area might have been issued with knowledge of the orcs' location. Yes—they stirred them up and used us as bait. Father wouldn't have suddenly come to hate his daughter. It was probably an order from the woman watching from the Heavens. 'There is a plan, so follow it.' Father would have obeyed, saying, 'Oh, the woman has arranged everything.' Why send us specifically to the hills where the military base facilities were located? Wasn't it because it needed to be easily visible from the Floating Arena? They gathered us neatly there to deliver us to the flying saucer that was scheduled to pass by. The orcs, Nathan, and me."
It was speculation several steps removed, but it held merit. Aspen stood up. "That's a rather rough way to bring back a daughter. Was it because I was already far away on a mission? Because we couldn't secretly infiltrate the Floating Arena together on a hippogriff? If my survival was also part of the plan, it was a botched operation by any standard. Two things are clear. One: what the woman wanted from that operation was not my survival. Two: even if that woman is lenient about mistakes, if she has to choose between our lives and her objective, she will discard us without hesitation."
Pontima looked at Aspen's face. Her twenty-year-old sister resembled their deceased mother greatly. Their mother had been a strong woman. If she were still alive... she would not have left Father and Pontima to wallow in deception. She would never have allowed anything to happen to her youngest daughter Aspen—that shallow, absurd self-deception.
"Then let me ask. Father said he came to the Heavens because he didn't want a life as a sacrificial tool. But look at what happened to me. I could have been expended for the sake of the objective. If there was never any intention to shed blood in the first place, why accept a martial family at all?"
"There is no peace without a price."
"Then why bother turning against the Federation? No matter where we go, we're still expendable."
Pontima smiled weakly. "You mean, what's different? Well, the fact that we won't face battle tomorrow? Sorry. I can't be certain. I don't know the political landscape of the Heavens any better than you do. Instead of the abyss, hundreds of elves might invade tomorrow."
"There is no rest in the place you fled to. If the conditions are sweet, flies will gather. Once you enter the Heavens, you can't escape. If you try to leave the Heavenly orbit with the brand, you'll be struck by lightning and die, right?"
"Father hasn't given a single explanation. Even though there were several days of opportunity. Then I suppose you'll understand if I make my own assumptions. I nearly died for certain. And now we're bound to a game we can't back out of. We can't simply believe we'll be safer here than in the Federation. Humans with short lifespans and no connections will never become first-class citizens in the Heavens. Am I right?"
Aspen suddenly stood straight, raising her sword before her. It was the posture of someone issuing a challenge. Unarmed, Pontima burst into laughter and raised both hands. "I surrender. I admit it. I'm sorry for doing something irreversible. I didn't act after hearing all the circumstances in advance either. I simply trusted Father as the head of the family."
Pontima's words were confirmation. Confirmation that affirmed Aspen's leaping speculation. Their fate was sealed. Those bearing the name Peres were now pawns of the elves. Pawns could not leave the board to return home, nor could they leap off the board. All they could do was move when ordered. Of course, they also could not save another piece that broke the rules by leaping forward. Under normal circumstances.
"Fine. I'll accept the apology out of sibling affection. But there's one condition."
"Say it. Since I have sinned, I'll accept a hundred conditions."
"Just one. Call Father. I need to see him."
Pontima's smile, already fading like a dying campfire, grew even fainter. She had a bad feeling. The sword-sharpening had not been a compulsion. Showing the blade had not been crude humor. Aspen rotated her right shoulder once in the same dueling stance, as though waiting for someone in that very posture.
Crack.
The ominous sound of a once-damaged ligament. Aspen's injury had not fully healed. But it was enough to move. That was sufficient. If she could move at all, Aspen was a Lion Wing Knight, not a corpse.
Aspen was angry. At Nathan, who never listened. At herself, for making a foolish choice. And, as twenty-year-olds with downy cheeks were wont to assume, at Father, whom she suspected might be even more foolish than herself. Usually such assumptions were mere delusions, but in this case, Father's fault in causing the misunderstanding was significant. And finally, at Pontima, who kept scratching at her nerves by telling her to stop worrying about Nathan.
Of course, she would not challenge Pontima to a duel. The family's policy forbade it. Besides, Pontima was not the head of the family. Even if she defeated her in a duel, she could not seize the sovereignty of the Peres family.
"I told you to call Father."
When her tone turned openly domineering, Pontima swallowed hard. "He's busy."
"I doubt he has anything more urgent than me right now. What, is he taking a shower? Go tell him quickly. I hope he doesn't come out to meet me wearing nothing but a bathrobe. Considering what I'm about to do, he'll probably feel quite sorry toward Father later."
"Damn it, Aspen. What exactly are you planning to do?"
There is no rest in the place you fled to. Those were the words Aspen herself had spoken moments ago. They did not apply only to Father. They applied to Aspen as well. Avoiding or turning away would not change the facts. She had done something unforgivable to a boy who had no peers his age, who had begun to mimic her rough way of speaking, and who called her half his heart. Aspen was going to set it right now.
"My first act of insubordination."
A pawn's only option was to move. But if one's position was no more than that of a pawn, there was even less reason to hesitate. Life came only once. Opportunities within it were not given often. Therefore, if there was something one desired, one had to be in a decisive position the moment the maze-like structure of the board became clear. Aspen had decided to act.
"After all, I have a damned family I need to inherit."