Chapter 28: Varda (4)
Chapter 28: Varda (4)
Homi looked to Eugene for an explanation.
"My mother told me about them. They're handmaidens and guardians serving those who wield forest magic."
Ten dryads lined up at the mansion entrance. Whenever the wind blew, the green leafy vines that served as their hair fluttered around them.
'Should we go in or not?'
While he was still debating, the mansion door opened and a young elf woman appeared.
Her flowing golden hair fell to her waist like thread spun from molten gold, and her aloof eyes glittered like honey-colored amber.
"You have come a long way. I am Varda, the mistress of this mansion. I sincerely welcome your visit."
It was the voice he had heard when he broke the letter's seal. But without magic distorting it, the voice coming from her own throat was breathtakingly beautiful.
"Forgive my discourtesy in failing to greet you after inviting you here. There was someone I needed to care for, so I couldn't leave."
Varda bowed her head in apology.
"It's fine. We were a bit flustered, but getting inside posed no trouble."
"I trusted that someone who bears such powerful Mystery would make it through easily."
The dryads lined both sides of the way, forming a welcoming path.
"Come in. Your journey was hardly smooth; you must want to rest."
After regarding her guests with a composed expression, Varda disappeared inside.
"Shall we go inside?"
When they dismounted at the mansion entrance, the dryads approached.
Neigh—!
Prrr—!
Might and Sandy visibly quailed and pressed close to their masters, their desperate looks begging not to be left with the strange tree monsters.
But that was resolved by the vegetables the dryads offered.
Sniff, sniff!
They flared their nostrils before the yellow vegetable that resembled a carrot, then cautiously took a bite.
Snort—!
The horses' eyes flew wide.
Crunch, crunch.
It must have been truly delicious, for the fear they had shown moments ago vanished entirely as they became wholly absorbed in eating.
The dryads lured the horses away with fruit and led them to a spacious stable. An ivory-coated horse greeted the pair.
Upon entering the mansion, the medicinal herbs and fruit hanging from the ceiling caught his eye.
"It feels nostalgic. The cabin we used to live in was a bit like this, wasn't it?"
Homi pricked up her ears and looked around, apparently searching for Varda.
"It's fine. I can tell where she is."
Varda had left behind the scent of magic, like breadcrumbs. Even if Homi's nose could not catch it, Eugene could follow her trail.
Turning a corner, they entered a spacious room. A large dryad lay on a wooden reclining chair, with the elf standing beside her like a nurse.
"I'm Eugene Meyer, a knight. I received the letter your eagle-owl delivered and came in answer to your invitation. This is my squire, Homi."
"As I introduced myself a moment ago, I am Varda, mistress of this mansion and the one who invited you."
The elf placed a hand over her chest in a gesture of thanks.
"So it was this person beside you who required help."
The small dryads outside were little more than soulless dolls. But the large dryad before him had an expressive face and radiated a powerful will.
"This is my wet nurse, Grace. Now, she has almost no energy or time left in her body."
"I understand why you could not leave her side. Family always comes first, after all."
Nod.
Homi, her face having completely softened, also nodded in agreement.
"Young miss. You could have made a better impression on such honored guests, and now because of me..."
Despite her wooden body, her every expression and gesture plainly showed her affection for the elf.
"I can't just lie here while we have guests."
"You must not get up."
"Shh... It's all right."
Reassuring Varda as the elf tried to stop her, Grace got to her feet. She really was large, tall enough that even Eugene had to look up at her.
Varda looked sadly at the branches that had broken and fallen onto the chair.
"Do not wear such a face. These are pieces that have already died. Whether they are attached to my body or have fallen away means nothing."
"Even so, I am happier when they remain with Grace's body."
"We have honored guests for the first time in ages. We should treat them properly. They bloodied their hands to answer our summons."
She likely meant the battle they had fought against the bandits at the campsite.
"Did you know we fought? We rode straight here without stopping."
"The Emerald Forest is the young miss's home, and her eyes and ears as well. She can observe the outside world through a variety of means."
Grace pointed to a corner of the room. There were several nests there that looked like cradles.
"I see them again."
The eagle owl that had delivered the letter was dozing with an expression that said, 'I dislike the daylight.'
Beside it were a goshawk glaring at the strange guests with a face that read, 'What are you looking at?', and a crow pecking at a peanut. Several of the cradles were empty, their occupants apparently out on some errand.
Through the window the birds used to fly in and out, the sky had turned the colors of dusk.
Creak.
The small dryads came in bearing vegetables, fruit, and herbs.
"Warm bath water has been prepared. How about you unwind in it, have a meal, and then we talk?"
"All right."
Eugene, too, had been fighting since dawn and had come without rest, so he felt grimy. A chance to wash up and catch his breath was most welcome.
As befitted the home of an elf and dryads, the bathhouse was built of wood as well. Not a trace of rot or moss could be seen, and the wood smelled fresh and pleasant.
It was much smaller than the stone bathhouse at the Bonyard VIP mansion, yet it overflowed with a coziness and freshness that place had lacked.
By the time they finished bathing and came out, darkness had settled outside.
"Please don't mind the humble fare. Eat your fill."
"It is a feast."
On the table Varda had prepared lay a variety of berries and vegetables, biscuits, and honey.
Ssssss.
The main dish was a thick piece of meat, its surface sizzling with oil. By the color, at least six different seasonings had been sprinkled upon it.
"A proper steak."
"I'm fond of meat. Even if I grill only one piece, I want to do it well."
"I nag her all the time to eat more vegetables."
"Grace."
Varda shot Grace a sidelong glare, but it quickly softened. She seemed to like the unusually lively atmosphere at the table.
Chomp!
Without even cutting it, Homi speared the large piece of meat with her fork and tore off a huge bite. She chewed contentedly with a blissful expression.
Varda watched her with satisfaction, then placed a neatly cut piece of meat into her own mouth.
'How should I put it? It's disciplined, but in a completely different way from a soldier's meal.'
Varda's manner of eating was enough to make one feel as if watching a tea ceremony.
"The meat is purchased from the villages that owe the young miss a debt of gratitude."
"The Bonyard envoys would have done better to wait at a village butcher shop rather than wandering the forest."
Grace laughed. Perhaps because she was a large dryad, even her laughter produced the faint sound of branches stirring.
Once the meal was over, the small dryads cleared the plates and brought tea. Then they got down to the real matter at hand.
"As you can see, the life of Grace, my beloved wet nurse, is coming to an end. Strictly speaking, I am only forcing something already ended to continue."
Varda stroked Grace's withering, decaying arm.
"Even after using all the knowledge of the forest I possess, I couldn't restore her vitality. She only continues to weaken."
Varda's golden eyes turned to Eugene.
"But, Sir Knight, perhaps the blessing prayer you performed in that remote village will be different."
"That was for a dhampir weakened by imprisonment. I infused the blood of a field mouse with a blessing and had the dhampir drink it."
Varda nodded as if she had expected this.
"How did you know? Even Homi, who was nearby, was unaware until I told her."
"My ears are special. Through the night wind and the rustling leaves, I can eavesdrop on magic from some distance away."
"That's remarkable."
As expected of an elf! Their long ears were not merely for show, it seemed. And being a mage made her all the more extraordinary.
"I was merely fortunate. It was possible only because this mansion is saturated with the energies of the forest and magic. If I had been away from the mansion, I would not have heard it."
"The young miss often ventured out of the forest to find a way to save me."
This was the reason a forest mage, whose studies required almost no external activity, had so frequently gone out into the world.
"Afterward, my friends in the sky brought me news. They told me a powerful warrior was traveling along roads through villages that were usually empty."
Eugene recalled the eagle owl, the goshawk, and the crows.
"You felled the warg with ease and even achieved the feat of an All-Conquering Knight. I decided you must be the person I had been looking for."
"Couldn't I simply have been a brute of a knight with absurd strength? Or perhaps the blessing prayer was performed by someone else entirely?"
Varda shook her head.
"Your prodigious strength exceeds what muscle alone can produce. My guess is that, in some form, it touches the realm of Mystery. If so, the prayer must also have been your work. I have never heard of a blessing this powerful."
Eugene thought accepting the invitation had been the right decision. The elf before him could teach him many things he didn't know and was also someone he could have real discussions with.
A small dryad came in, bearing a length of green cloth in both hands. Upon it rested a longsword sheathed in an antique scabbard.
"A gift for my honored guest."
"It is too early to receive a gift. I have done nothing yet."
"That matters not. This was yours from the moment you resolved to accept my invitation."
"If that is the case, then I shall accept it without hesitation."
Eugene took the scabbard, suppressing the excited pounding in his chest.
"Oh!"
The moment he grasped it, he could tell it was a masterwork sword with perfect balance.
"May I draw it?"
"Of course. Think of this as your own home."
Shing.
The silver blade was so keen that his skin seemed to prickle just from looking at it.
"It is a sword passed down since the time of Rui Amor."
"Rui Amor! You mean the first unified dynasty?"
It was an absurdly ancient relic. After all that footwork, he had gained a treasure beyond his imagining.
"A great sword must write a great epic. That blade has slept far too long. Now that it has passed into the hands of a worthy warrior, the sword itself shall rejoice."
When people think of the finest smiths, dwarves often come to mind, but that was a perception colored by misunderstanding.
It was true that dwarves were capable across the full range of smithing. Their engineering skill in building mechanisms such as pulleys and siege engines was also unsurpassed.
Yet when one listed the most legendary weapons, shields, and armor, they were invariably works made by elven artisans.
The arms revered as sacred heirlooms by great noble houses had almost all been made in the age of Rui Amor.
Great noble houses that treasured dwarven-made arms were even quietly looked down on as upstarts with no pedigree. Nothing more needed to be said.
"What does this say?"
Eugene pointed to the elven script engraved on the lower part of the blade.
"Last Autumn."
Varda gazed down at the sword with tranquil eyes.
"A rather lyrical name to give a sword."
"Perhaps. Yet it suits that blade above all. For it was forged by the final royal house just as the age of Rui Amor was ending."
Clatter.
A dried, withered branch fell from Grace's collarbone. Every gaze turned to the dead fragment as it rolled across the floor.
Eugene let the smile brought on by the magnificent sword fade.
"Celebrating can wait. I should deal with what's urgent first."
"Thank you."
Eugene examined Grace's body with a level head. Because he could see and sense Mystery, he understood the condition the dryad was in.
"It will not be easy."
Eugene's expression hardened.
"The dhampir I gave blood to was still within the span of life naturally granted to them. The blessing only restored their vitality. But Lady Grace..."
"My branches are already dead, and no sap flows within my body. To put it in human terms, it is as if the blood has stopped and the flesh has rotted. What meaning is there in applying any fine medicine to a body that can accept no nourishment?"
Grace spoke kindly, as though she understood what he meant. At this point, Varda was the only one still being stubborn.
"Even so, I wish to try. For I do not want to lose her and live with the regret of having done nothing."
"I think so too. Success or failure aside, we have to try. That's what family does."
For the first time, Varda showed Eugene a smile.
"..."
The sight was like the first sunlight at dawn driving back the darkness. For one fleeting moment, even Eugene, who thought saving Grace was impossible, felt hope stir.
"Then I shall begin."
Eugene rose from his seat, and the others followed suit.
After brief preparations, Grace sat on the sofa in the drawing room. Eugene knelt before her, and from a short distance away, Varda and Homi watched.
The Eucharist for the dryad on the brink of death began.
A mighty blessing that perhaps only an ancient pope could have performed. An unknown vitality so dense it almost felt viscous came writhing from beyond the world.