Settling Affairs (2)
Nathan held out the wooden ornamental box that had belonged to the slain Morbi. The moment Hrozka accepted it, he seemed to age centuries in an instant. It would have been awkward to call him old. There were no new wrinkles, no sudden loss of hair. Yet a profound weight now clung to him, something impossible to associate with the cheerful demeanor he had shown until now. He was like a mountain, like a boulder, like an ancient tree stump that had endured across endless years.
As if retracing old memories, Hrozka pressed the small box briefly to his forehead, then pushed a section of the bark-like ornament with his finger. The box, which had looked like a simple handmade trinket, began to click and shift with the precision of a finely crafted machine. Once it opened, he checked its contents and closed it again. The decorative elements surrounding the case immediately sprouted upward like fresh blades of grass, sealing the lid once more.
Pontima, who had been tightly gripping the bloodless hand of Aspen, let out a gasp of wonder.
“A simple storage container. It holds great meaning for me, but the object itself is not particularly precious. Anyone who knows the method could make one as a hobby. By human standards, it would take an absurdly long time—enough to be considered wasteful.”
Treating such a complex and intricate object as mere busywork was perhaps a privilege reserved only for those who could view years of painstaking labor as no more than a fleeting moment.
Pontima, still marveling, asked cautiously.
“My elder sister, Alde.”
His tone was not that of someone speaking of a person he might meet again. Between each word, deep longing and sorrow could be glimpsed. Even so, Hrozka deliberately waited until Aspen regained consciousness.
Nathan found the weight of that consideration burdensome. Still, he wondered why a relic from Migilpyure’s elves had ended up in Morbi’s hands. As if sensing the question the others hesitated to voice, Hrozka spoke first.
Nathan and the Peres siblings exchanged glances.
“All correct. While you were all visiting the courthouse, you must have seen at least a glimpse of the Heavens’ opulence. The golden decorations covering the buildings. The delicacies and luxury goods overflowing in the shops along the streets. Where do you suppose it all comes from?”
Nathan recalled the view of the Heavens he had seen from the Floating Arena. A land floating at a terrifying height. Even if gold and silver never decayed, grain had to be produced every year. Yet cultivating food normally at an altitude higher than most mountains seemed nearly impossible.
Hrozka shook his head and looked at Nathan.
Nathan crossed his arms as he answered.
Pontima’s eyes widened. Hrozka nodded.
Hrozka’s long fingers tapped rhythmically against the box, keeping time with the still-playing music box.
He had said people, not kin. Nathan guessed that Hrozka must be a rather high-ranking figure even among the Wood Elves.
“My sister was marked as a breeding vessel for the Winter King Grendel and kidnapped. She was born with an abundance of the old mystic blessings, so they claimed she possessed the ideal physique for producing a second generation.”
It was an answer that could erase any further words. Hrozka calmly filled the resulting silence alone.
Nathan clutched at the flesh of his own neck. The Heavenly Brand engraved there felt rough under his fingers.
A sudden, reckless romance between a kidnapped concubine and a Baeleim prince. But without the power to protect themselves, the two had ended up preserved like specimens in the ice wall. The outsider Hrozka, acting out of pure goodwill, had saved the dying prince and heard the story as repayment. And he had regretted ever since that he should have simply let the wretch die.
From that day until now.
Pain gradually seeped into Hrozka’s voice.
Nathan recalled how Hrozka had blocked Morbi and drawn his bow. Looking back, that hand had been filled with killing intent. Despite the relaxed expression on his face.
Nathan searched his memory. The two names Morbi had mentioned in his dying words were Hrozka and Nilly.
Nathan felt relieved. When she had tried to run and failed, Morbi had said she was a Baeleim. Then perhaps Nilly had nothing to do with this—
The next words from Hrozka forced the three humans to reexamine their own sensitivity. Had they been looking at the world too brightly? The truth was horrific.
In the end, Morbi had been unable to hide Alde’s child until the very end. Even mobilizing all the power of a Protector Lord could not make him omnipotent. Giving her a false Eleim identity, dyeing her white hair an ordinary color, and sending her outside the Winter Kingdom had not been enough.
The siblings who hated Morbi had tracked down the child, gifted with immense talent, and dragged her back to the palace. The Winter King, having forgotten his rage from centuries earlier, did not kill the daughter he had once ordered executed.
Aspen, who understood the meaning a moment later, turned her head as if holding back nausea. Pontima muttered in stunned disbelief.
When Aspen shook her head as if to say enough, Pontima bit her lip and turned away.
Hrozka reached out and pushed the fading music box. Instead of continuing as before, the music quietly died.
Hrozka’s eyes, as they gazed at Nathan, were steeped in pain.
Nathan shook his head hurriedly.
Nathan closed his mouth. His thoughts had not changed.
Hrozka tapped the box lightly, then held it out. Toward Nathan.
Nathan looked back and forth between the ornamental box now held before his chest and Hrozka.
Hrozka lifted Nathan’s hand and wrapped it around the box.
Nathan, now holding the box, asked without thinking.
With those words, Hrozka stepped through the door.
“What’s your business?”
At the end of that monstrous tale, Pontima had been left utterly dazed. She answered Aspen’s question a beat too late.
Aspen made a displeased face and tapped Pontima’s hand. The letter Pontima had unconsciously pulled from her pocket was now crumpled beyond recognition. It was a habit of hers—fidgeting with something whenever she felt anxious.
Pontima spoke with difficulty.
Pontima, who had been hesitating while looking at Aspen’s pale face, finally confessed the truth.
At the sound of a tray clattering to the floor, all three turned their heads.
Benny, who had been entering the hospital room, asked in a trembling voice. She seemed completely unaware of the porridge and cookies she had dropped on the floor.
Aspen blinked, unsure whether she should be grateful for the prepared meal or saddened that it had been spilled. Pontima blinked as well.
Pontima unfolded the letter. The crumpled handwriting was unmistakably Santra’s.
As Santra’s voice filled the room, Nathan turned to the side with an incredulous look. Benny let out a crawling groan and stared at the closet.
Instead of the trembling Benny, Nathan stepped in front of her and opened the closet door. There was no blood-drenched vengeful spirit of Santra glaring and laughing at them. Instead, beyond the open transfer gate stretched a pitch-black shadow.
With a tone that suggested she was thoroughly fed up, a rope-like length of feathers shot out from beyond the transfer gate. The two lion wings hurriedly threw themselves over Benny, rolling with her in their embrace. The only one whose limbs were entangled by the extending feathers and dragged through was Pontima.
As Pontima screamed in confusion and vanished beyond the gate, Nathan and Aspen looked back at the door with uneasy expressions.
Benny muttered from beneath the two knights’ arms.
The moment their eyes met with the elf who smiled brightly while alternating glances between Nathan and Aspen, Aspen felt a deep sense of skepticism for a moment. No matter how urgent the situation, to abandon her own blood relative and save her romantic rival instead…
The woman growled from the other side. Pontima, who had already crossed over, added a word.
Aspen, who had stood up while brushing off her backside, extended her hand behind her. Then she sharply slapped away Benny’s arm as the girl tried to take it. Benny stood up on her own power, looking somewhat embarrassed.
Nathan, who had been hesitating, noticed the certainty in Aspen’s eyes. In the end, he took her hand and followed her lead.