Settling Affairs (1)
All of it felt wrong. In that room, the only object Aspen could truly understand was the white bedsheet. That alone wasn’t so different from what existed on the surface world. Everywhere else, incomprehensible devices glowed with light. Take, for example, the tulip-shaped sculpture beside the bed. A light touch anywhere caused it to unfurl golden petals and reveal a stamen-like figurine inside. The strange music that leaked from within resembled the sound of falling rain.
Aspen, fascinated by the first contact, reached out and stroked it a second time. The device that was neither human nor magic, the music played by its internal springs, and the intricate figures dancing in each other’s arms were all wondrous. But what fascinated him even more was—
“So this is what it feels like when metal touches metal.”
Nathan, whose gaze had locked onto the movement, bit his lip.
“If swords or gauntlets had skin, they’d always feel like— Stop making that face, Nathan. I’m fine.”
He had said the right arm was beyond saving. In a short period it had been twisted and cracked too many times, growing brittle. After being shattered in the fall and crushed beneath ice, it had been damaged beyond any other option. This bizarre sensation of an arm that no longer felt like an arm. When he held it close and flexed his fingers, a delicate sound like an orchestrina rang near his ear. Ting. Ting. Clack.
When he lowered his head, black hair spilled forward over his forehead. That too felt foreign. Aspen’s hair had been red his entire life. There must be a reason this ink-black transformation had occurred, but he didn’t press for answers first. He saw no need to change the subject.
“So I—again—”
Nathan leaned against Aspen’s shoulder and recounted everything that had happened, leaving nothing out. What he had experienced and witnessed in the Heavens. The situations he had fallen into.
“—I could never let that happen—”
And the thoughts he had when he feared losing Aspen. The words poured out in a jumbled rush. Nathan was not the type accustomed to long explanations, so Aspen found it difficult to follow everything. He simply nodded now and then, letting him continue. He liked listening to that voice.
He had gone to punish a certain prince who had kidnapped his friend. Only after crossing blades did he learn the man was a demon. While hunting the demon he had nearly died, and through that ordeal he discovered an unknown entity was sealed inside his body. The King of the North had declared war. The Northern Protector Lord had tried to delay it by taking Nathan’s head. The fight had been brutal, and when the unknown entity noticed Nathan falling into crisis, it attempted to seize control of his body. And the illusion that entity had created to trap Nathan—
When the story reached that point, Aspen couldn’t hold back a chuckle.
“Why did you stop? Is it embarrassing to explain?”
Nathan kept opening his mouth only to close it again. It was a difficult subject to speak of outright. Naturally. If that entity had tried to imprison Nathan inside his own mind, it would have filled the illusion with overwhelming temptation. A world built from his deepest, most private desires.
“Let me guess. Was it peaceful?”
“Is this Twenty Questions?”
Aspen chuckled again. It was a game he had often played with his older siblings, but for Nathan it had been a bizarre pastime he only learned from Aspen after turning fifteen. Nathan had no talent for speaking in vague hints, so he could never get used to it. Even Aspen’s simple leading questions would trip him up and leave him flustered.
“Then it sounds like you’ll end up confessing everything yourself. Like always.”
“That’s highly likely. Though sometimes it doesn’t happen.”
Nathan fell silent. Aspen decided not to pry. He simply waited for Nathan to speak again on his own. And when Nathan finally opened his mouth once more, Aspen had to fight back a burst of laughter.
“What? De Blois? The Count of Wine family?”
“I don’t remember clearly. No, I really don’t. Whether it was Blois or de Blois. Something like that.”
He couldn’t help but laugh. Nathan de Blois. Aspen imagined the tall Nathan standing among those plump nobles.
“Ah, that family’s famous for having servants who attend to your every need from one to ten. Did you want to live without ever dirtying your own hands? Well, when I see people from that house, even I sometimes—”
“There were no servants in that scene. It was just the two of us inside a golden field. Someone was painting that moment from far away.”
Aspen, who had been about to tease him out of habit, momentarily forgot what he was going to say. Nathan, thinking he had misspoken, was scrambling for an excuse when Aspen asked,
“Hmm. If a painter was calmly drawing the scene, there probably weren’t any monsters in the background.”
“…Both Aspen and I had already retired from the knight order.”
“Was there a child in that landscape?”
This time Nathan’s words failed him completely. Nathan, who had been resting his forehead on Aspen’s shoulder, tried to pull away discreetly, but Aspen yanked him back and held him close. The heat of Nathan’s burning red face transferred through their skin.
“You wouldn’t have wished for me to be injured and discharged, right? Then it’s obvious.”
“No. That’s not—”
“Of course not. It’s a disgusting fantasy, but I’ll let it slide just this once. Honestly, you were planning to let it slide too, weren’t you?”
Nathan looked wronged. He truly had never considered it. Children. All the frantic denials he blurted out piled up so high they might be taken as confirmation. Only then did Nathan hurriedly change the subject and return to the main point.
The future he might have achieved if he had taken that entity’s hand. An enchanting illusion so tempting he would have rewritten the past to possess it. The reason he had been able to escape that world was thanks to Aspen.
At those words, Aspen’s eyebrows shot up.
“What did I do?”
He had heard Aspen’s voice screaming even while Aspen himself stood beside him. Nathan. No. Wake up. He had awakened to that voice. Aspen remembered it too. He had even said not to lie. That someone as strong as Nathan would never fall like that. Though only inside his own heart.
“I only thought it. How did you know? Because you’re half of my heart?”
“Can’t you just forget that line? It sounds so awkward hearing it from someone else’s mouth when I’m the one who said it.”
Aspen couldn’t understand Nathan. When had that sharp-tongued little brat from long ago turned into such a romantic?
Suddenly unable to resist, Aspen grabbed Nathan’s messy hair with both hands and ruffled it vigorously. The way one might pet a large dog. Nathan’s forehead grew hot as a stove. Aspen felt satisfied by the warmth that spread to him.
“I wonder what the person who coined that phrase would think. I read the same passage once. It was a candidate piece in a literary journal nominated for the Humanity Classic.”
Stories hold power. A power like a lantern that stands against the abyss of nothingness. The more people who empathize with it, the stronger that power becomes. But if the sentiment grows too common and trivial, its effect weakens. That is why the Federation often holds contests and distributes the winning works across the nation. In the hope that a masterpiece powerful enough to be written beside the founding era might be born—a weapon against the great demons.
“Federation literary journal. Yeah, that was… that’s where it came from. Damn it.”
Nathan, who had believed all along that he had come up with the words himself, only now learned their true origin.
Chuckling, Aspen cupped Nathan’s cheeks. Nathan’s eyes widened in surprise, filling his vision with Aspen’s face. Aspen’s face drew closer. Slightly pale and thinner after sleeping for so long.
“Half. Shall we put them together?”
Everything felt wrong. Inside that room, Aspen could not understand himself. Why he had carried this aching longing for so long without realizing how clear it had become.
Their lips drew near. And touched.
Nathan didn’t know where to put his hands. His arms reached out hesitantly, as if to push Aspen away in fear. But in the end they wrapped around Aspen’s back. The sound of the orchestrina gently embraced the silence.
“Yes, you bastard! Wrap your arms around his waist! His waist! Yes! That’s it! I’m so proud of you—”
Ramkaf, peering through the crack in the door, cheered in a whisper only he could hear. But Benny heard it clearly. She grabbed the skeleton by the back of his neck and dragged him away. Ramkaf couldn’t even scream.
“What do you think you’re peeping at?”
Ramkaf, writhing in pain from his twisted cervical vertebrae, was dumbfounded.
“Then what have you been doing all this time?”
Benny shot him a glare before squatting down in the hallway.
“Wow.”
“Wow what?”
“How am I supposed to interrupt that?”
How was she supposed to interrupt? Ramkaf dramatically slapped his own skull and jutted out his jaw. Then he put on an exaggerated look of shock.
“You were still thinking about interrupting? After hearing him sleep-talk about his woman in the hospital, I thought your pure love had finally ended. Oh wait, that’s right. In the end you charged right in anyway, didn’t you?”
Benny buried her face between her knees and sighed. She already knew. What kind of picture had she even been hoping for? The tension of secretly reading a confession letter in a rival’s locker? Something straight out of a freelance novel in a channel magazine? Doing that in real life would just make her trash.
“Two-timing. How cool. Did I ever tell you? One of the dynasties I served on the surface collapsed because of that exact way of thinking?”
Ramkaf had become a medic because of his deep knowledge of anatomy. In life, as a funerary priest, he had mummified many kings. Benny thought sullenly that she had heard it all before. The king who only chased after concubines and was stabbed with a dagger. The prince who only doted on his legal wife and was poisoned. And so on. Among them was even another queen who, after a relationship gone horribly wrong, had been hacked to pieces with a greatsword by the first queen—
Benny recalled the tip of Aspen’s blade that had brushed right in front of her nose.
“I suddenly feel like crying.”
“Don’t throw a tantrum in front of someone who doesn’t even have tear glands. Think it inside your head. Is this because you’re a ruling race? Zero empathy.”
Today Ramkaf’s tongue was especially venomous. If any organic matter remained in his eye sockets, it would probably be burning fiercely.
“Why are you yapping so much, you rotten bastard?”
“Because I am a connoisseur of pure love.”
At Ramkaf’s declaration, Benny rubbed her forehead.
“In my dictionary, harem and pure love cannot coexist. Give it up, you long-lived bourgeois.”
“…What the hell are you even saying?”
Ramkaf sat down beside Benny.
“So, are you going to tell them?”
“Tell them what?”
“What you said you couldn’t bring yourself to say.”
Benny’s expression underwent a dramatic shift. Hesitation. It crumpled into something close to tears, then settled into deep distress.
“What? That everything about being dragged to the Heavens was my fault? That I’ve actually been watching all of you for a very long time?”
“If you think we’re on the same boat, don’t hide anything. Young Eleim.”
It wasn’t Ramkaf who answered. Hrozka, who had walked over from down the corridor, placed a heavy hand on Benny’s head.
“And even without you, Santra would have obtained the Mark of the Beast. Without fail. You know that, don’t you?”
“What are you all talking about? Mark of what?”
The man who had followed Hrozka looked utterly confused. Every time he scratched his head, his red hair swayed. Until just two days ago, Aspen’s hair had been that same color. It was obvious who he had come to visit. Pontima Peres, his face gaunt with worry, soon shook his head.
“No. That’s not what’s important right now. I heard Aspen has woken up. Is that true?”
The moment Benny answered yes, Pontima tried to storm into the room. Both Benny and Ramkaf turned pale. They knew exactly what was happening inside. But even when they reached out to stop him, it was useless. Aspen’s eldest brother broke through their attempts with firm determination.
“Wait—!”
“Wait for what? Let go!”
Pontima flung the door wide open. In the time it took to blink twice, he closed the door again and stepped back.
“Aha.”
“Right. Aha.”
Hrozka shrugged, pushed the three of them aside, and entered the room himself.
“Nathan.”
Nathan, who had frantically pulled away from the embrace in surprise just moments ago, was still caught in Aspen’s hold. Aspen had not released his lips. Even when Nathan shook Aspen’s body in a hurry, it made no difference.
“Was that what you said, Nathan? That you refused because you thought life shouldn’t be turned back?”
Aspen finally seemed to become aware of his surroundings and pulled back. He bit his lower lip in clear displeasure at the interruption. Nathan covered his face with both palms and glanced sideways at Hrozka.
“From what I see, you are indeed blessed right now. I’m truly glad both of you are safe. Now I can ask my question with a light heart.”
“Aspen, this is—”
Common sense. When two people who had never met before were present, one should introduce them first. But Aspen, the very person who had taught Nathan that etiquette, cut in ahead of him.
“Who are you?”
A sharp, hostile glare directed at the uninvited guest. Yet Hrozka paid it no mind and extended his hand toward Nathan.
“I believe you have something I must receive.”
“Why is the noisiest guy usually hiding in the corner looking so pathetic?”
“What are you doing, latecomer?”
Till, who had been clinking his palm against his drink glass and singing a celebratory song, set down his empty beer mug. He somehow forced his heavily slurred tongue to move.
“Onor an frensh burfday parry.”
“…What?”
Till scratched his head for a moment, then filled the beer mug to the brim with water. He poured it down. Half a pint went down his throat, the other half over the top of his head. With much clearer pronunciation, Till answered.
“A birthday party for honor and friendship.”
The fellow knights who had approached Till glanced nervously behind them. The innkeeper, who happened to be coming down at that moment, met their eyes. He had been serving sausages at the table in front of the fireplace. When the innkeeper smiled as if to say not to worry, they finally relaxed. The sofa Till had just ruined with a waterfall of water was quite an expensive piece.
“If you came because you were worried about me, drop that nonsense. I have a whole two weeks of vacation. I just wanted to spend one day for the person who isn’t here.”
“Not that. Till. We’re all getting our asses kicked out there. What exactly were you doing, senior?”
Till’s eyes and mouth all opened wide in perfect circles.
“What’s with that forest-troll expression?”
“It’s the face of someone chewing over whether the words that just came out of a Lionwing’s mouth are real. Whether the whining about getting beaten is more surprising, or the request to scold them in their place is more surprising.”
Looking closely, it didn’t seem like a joke at all. The junior knight had a bruise under his eye, and the knight one class above him had dried blood crusted on his nose. Till tilted his head.
“Is someone playing one-against-a-hundred in the backyard? Who? Quena? Ireji?”
“Just go outside. Before we drag you out.”
“We can’t be the only ones getting beaten, can we?”
Till, who still hadn’t grasped the situation, let out a hearty laugh at the subtle coaxing and picked up his weapon. The person waiting in the backyard was an unexpected figure. At least in the sense that he couldn’t tell who it was. If someone had beaten up multiple Lionwings at once, it should obviously have been a Lionwing.
“Oh. This is rather fresh.”
In the middle of the backyard where hay had been cleared away in all directions, several Lionwings leaned against the wall, encircling a man holding a longsword. The meaningful smiles on their faces were suspicious. Every one of them was swollen and bruised yet their eyes sparkled with anticipation. The message was clear.
I can’t be the only one who gets hit.
Till realized he couldn’t run away.
Hmm. Robe flipped over… Judging by the build, that’s probably Ireji. He’s been excited lately saying his skills have improved.
“Hey, excuse me. I don’t know who you are, but I’m a bit drunk right now.”
“Oh, Till’s trying to run!”
“Block the door, Ireji!”
Ireji, who had a lump on his forehead, quickly blocked the door. Why are you coming out from there? Till’s prediction had missed spectacularly. He instinctively realized something had gone wrong. Still, he had to do something to save face. Till pulled a bottle of strong liquor from behind his back.
“No, what I mean is, why don’t you take a drink too and then we fight? Fair and square.”
The cloaked man readily held out his hand. He caught the bottle Till threw, opened it, and poured the entire contents down his throat.
“Wait, just one glass—”
What was revealed beneath the flipped cloak was a simple mask with holes only for the eyes and mouth. The unidentified man poured an entire bottle of liquor through the gap in his mask, then smashed the empty bottle on the ground. Even Till was taken aback by the boldness.
“It looks like a precious piece. Sorry for emptying more than one glass. I never refuse free drinks.”
He was overwhelmed. In momentum and in bravado. The spar that had begun awkwardly ended in just a few exchanges. Till was shocked. Damn it. If he hadn’t handed over the drink, he could have at least used the excuse that he was drunk. The sword that vanished from his sight dug into his throat. If it hadn’t been sheathed, it would have killed him. When the bundled leather struck his collarbone, Till pretended to die and fell backward.
“Ack, damn it. It was Izelto! Even if it’s a joke, is there any rule about breaking bones on vacation day?”
“I’m right here.”
Till blinked at Izelto, who was giggling behind him. Izelto, who didn’t have a single mark on him, shrugged at Till’s questioning gaze.
“Why am I fine? Simple. Don’t pick a fight in the first place.”
“You call yourself a Lionwing after that?”
“I don’t know if Izelto is a Lionwing, but you definitely are. That was quite sharp.”
He thought he had only barely grazed the cheek, but it seemed he had landed a rather meaningful blow. The cheap mask that had been struck with a wooden staff instead of a spear cracked with a crunch. What was revealed was a face with bright red flesh exposed. The Lionwing knights were horrified by the leper-like appearance. And Till, recalling a certain unforgettable day, gaped.
“That… uh…”
“I told you to call me Orkos, Till. It was a short meeting, so I won’t be upset if you’ve forgotten. Now then, are there no other challengers? If not, let’s get to the main topic. A request that only you all can fulfill—”
Till sprinted back into the inn. Just like everyone else had done before him, to find a new sacrifice.
“—but yes. Strengthening the bond between comrades is also a good thing. It seems I’ll have to postpone my business a little longer.”