A Fragile Dawn of Healing
The ceiling was unfamiliar. He was certain he had been in the forest. What filled his vision now was a wooden room bathed in warm sunlight streaming through an open window. The strange sensation of fabric against his skin made him look down. He was dressed in a long-sleeved shirt made of thin cloth and comfortable pants. What had happened while he slept? But the hunger rising within him quickly swept away every other thought.
An unbearably delicious aroma paralyzed his nose. In front of the door sat freshly baked bread and a hearty meat soup. He slowly picked them up and placed them on the desk inside the room.
It was truly delicious. A tomato soup packed with tender, shredded meat. And this bread that melted so softly in his mouth—it soothed his empty stomach perfectly. Suddenly, tears welled up as he thought of the meager meals he had endured until now. During those days of contempt from them and persecution from the village, meals like this had only existed in his dreams.
Yes… the times when he had happily cooked beside Erika. He had missed those moments unbearably.
“When… did we all break apart like this…”
He murmured the words in a low voice as tears traced down his cheeks. The bread slipped weakly from his hand.
The door creaked open. She gently wiped away his tears and embraced him with the utmost care. That familiar scent mixed with her breath. The unique smell that came from him sent a shiver through her mind. Yet the touch she felt told her unmistakably how much he had changed. Once, the journey had forged him into a body as strong as a knight’s. Now, seeing how gaunt he had become—light enough for her to lift with ease—her eyes reddened.
“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”
Carefully, she laid him back down and pulled the blanket over him. She hoped, even a little, that his wounds would heal.
“But… but you need to get better now. I’m sorry. For the sleeping pills, for everything.”
She picked up the bread that had fallen to the floor. The nearly empty soup bowl caught her eye, and the sob she had barely swallowed rose in her throat once more. That terrible soup that had once made even her faint—how many times had she practiced out of frustration and shame? Only now, when everything had spiraled into ruin, could she finally show him the fruits of that effort. All she could do was let the tears flow endlessly.
Clink. Clink. The dishes stacked neatly in her hands.
“…Sleep well, Woojin.”
With that whisper, the platinum-haired woman left the room.
Then another maiden entered. She wore a modest nun’s habit that covered her body. It was quite different from the battle vestments layered with plate armor she had once followed his advice to wear. This was a black dress she hadn’t put on in a long time. She knelt carefully in place and gathered power in her hands.
“O Mother of all things in heaven, merciful Goddess…”
A pure white energy began to swirl slowly around her hands. She clasped them together and offered a solemn prayer. The white light drifted through the air and enveloped his body. Healing energy began to wash over both his flesh and his heart. It drove out the murky, dark, and damp energies, filling their place with light.
His sunken cheeks, his skeletal arms and body, began to fill out ever so slightly. From her lips flowed a continuous stream of words blessing the man lying before her, filling the once-silent room.
“Therefore, I earnestly beseech You to grant this pitiable soul the strength to rise once more…”
When the prayer ended, she was breathing hard. She staggered, bracing herself against the floor to stand. Then she pressed a deep kiss to his forehead. A kiss of blessing was supposed to be light, a mere gesture without touching the lips. But she poured her true feelings into it, conveying her heart to the man who lay broken before her.
“…I love you. And I’m sorry.”
His gaunt face still felt strange to her. But someday, those wounds would heal. Someday, this prayer would reach him. And someday…
She quietly withdrew her outstretched hand, barely stopping herself.
“May you have a peaceful night…”
With that soft farewell, she left the room.
And then the final visitor entered. Only beside him did she remove the imposing helmet that usually hid her face and begin unwinding the cloth that covered it. Rustle. Rustle. Long black hair spilled down. At some point, it had grown to waist length. Her appearance had become even more beautiful.
And in her eyes, a deep darkness had taken root.
“…Hello, Woojin.”
She removed the gauntlet from her hand and placed it neatly on the small desk beside her.
“Are you… feeling okay?”
Of course not, she thought, slowly shaking her head. Her hand—those delicate, slender fingers—brushed down his face.
“…Isn’t it funny? I tried so hard… but unlike other people, I don’t get calluses like medals or scars… Even when I swung my sword until my hands bled… even when I fought bloody battles against death knights… and even when those two beat me senseless and carved your name into my arm… yeah, nothing stays…”
Her eyes were smiling. Like a capsized boat, like a sinking ship merging with the abyss, that was how her eyes looked. The corners of her mouth trembled slowly… twisting into a warped smile.
“…Should I show you today? How I punish myself?”
She drew a sharp dagger from the drawer. Outside, the sky had darkened into twilight. The brilliant yet fragile light of the setting sun cast a red glow on the blade. Just like the countless times her own blood had stained it.
Slowly, her hand moved toward her left wrist. There was not a hint of hesitation. No fear in her movements. The number of times she had harmed herself had long since grown beyond counting on her fingers and toes.
“Hehe, just kidding. If I showed you something like this while you’re hurting… you’d be disgusted with me, wouldn’t you? I… I just want you to smile when you look at me. That wouldn’t be right, would it? Asking you to understand someone like me… that makes me such a terrible bitch. So… sleep deeply. I’m sorry for disturbing you like this. …I love you, Woojin.”
The dagger slipped quietly back into her embrace. Rustle. Rustle. The long black hair was carefully arranged once more. Clink. Clink. She quietly put the gauntlet back on. The cloth inscribed with magic spells was once again wrapped around her face with practiced skill. And over it, the heavy helmet settled back into place.
Silently, the figure opened the door…
Creak. Click. The door closed behind her.
Three women have gathered. The long night of atonement and healing begins.
“H-how is he? How’s Woojin?”
“He’s sleeping deeply. The sleeping pills must have worked well. …And your healing ability helped too.”
“Ah, that’s a relief…”
In the living room lit by a single candle, the three women sat around a square table, thinking about their plans for the days ahead.
“…What should I make for him tomorrow?”
“Something gentle on the stomach. How about a vegetable soup?”
“Then I’ll have to go into town tomorrow. We need seeds for the garden too…”
“Leave that to me. If people start spreading rumors about someone walking around in a hood, it could be dangerous.”
“…Okay.”
“Then… may I take care of him tomorrow while you’re gone?”
“Yes, please do. He still looks very weak.”
The nun nodded and rose first to retire for the night.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go rest now. I need to conserve my strength for tomorrow.”
“Of course. Get plenty of rest. I… should sleep too since I have to go shopping tomorrow.”
“…Then I’ll watch over him tonight.”
“Good. Can we count on you?”
“Leave it to me. Oh, and… Daeun?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
“…For what?”
“…For bringing him back to us.”
Instead of answering, the hero thumped her chest once with her fist and headed to her room.
“Haa…”
Erika quietly opened the door and tiptoed into the room. Woojin was still sleeping soundly, his breathing soft and even. But his complexion seemed a little brighter, the shadows beneath his eyes less heavy, and a small smile formed on her lips.
She pulled out a chair without a sound and sat facing him properly. The night was still long. It was a quiet evening broken only by the occasional call of a bird. She simply gazed at him as he slept, her green eyes filled with affection and regret.
*
…It was her. Erika.
He had been asleep, but now he quietly opened his eyes. His exhausted body, the one that had screamed with muscle pain, felt a little lighter. He wondered how long it had been since he had slept so deeply. Moonlight cut through the darkness and illuminated her face.
She had fallen asleep sitting upright, facing his direction, letting out soft breaths. Just as fear threatened to consume his heart, his mind barely managed to grasp a single lifeline.
‘Who could have made that food?’
It had to be her. If, as he suspected—and it was almost certainly true—Daeun, Sirke, and Erika were all in this house, then it must be the work of the one who had learned his cooking with the most passion and effort.
Of course, it tasted so good it was hard to believe it was hers. But he knew. That fragrant herbal scent… it was the exact leaf he had secretly told her was his special ingredient.
Once he realized that, her figure became clearer in his eyes. She still terrified him. That would never change. If she woke up and realized he was watching her… he couldn’t help but imagine her drawing her bow on him again, even though he knew it was impossible now.
But it was also a face he missed dearly. The beautiful face he had seen so often while standing night watch.
…He wanted to talk to her.
“The soup today… it was really delicious.”
Even though he knew he shouldn’t, even though he knew this peace would shatter the moment she woke, he endured the pain squeezing his chest and spoke from his heart.
Her ears twitched. His heart sank.
But with her eyes still closed, she smiled and murmured in her sleep.
“Mmm… I’m glad…”
“Ah… ah…”
This simple exchange. This short conversation where he could hear her voice again… what was this feeling…
“Ah, ugh… ughhh…”
Had he missed it this much? He barely held back his tears, pulled the blanket over himself, curled up, and tried to sleep.
Surprisingly, sleep came quickly. He had missed that faint smile of hers so much.
*
“…!”
At some point, she had dozed off. This was bad. If he had woken up and seen her like this—her heart plummeted. He was awake. She could sense his presence even without opening her eyes. He was looking straight at her.
The faint rustle of the blanket moving slowly told her he had noticed her.
‘Will he… hate me now…’
She was almost resigned as she imagined the scenes that would follow. Him screaming. Daeun and Sirke bursting through the door. Him swinging furniture at her, pouring out merciless resentment. Or quietly slipping out the open window for ventilation and running away without looking back.
No matter what, her heart would be torn to shreds. Or, to be more precise… it would be like paper already ripped apart, now burning into nothing but ash.
But the small whisper that came from his lips was enough to save her.
The soup today was really delicious.
For a moment, she thought she would burst into tears. She wanted to run into his arms. In that warm embrace she remembered so well, she wanted to tell him how hard she had tried and receive his praise.
If he just opened his eyes, if she could just give it a little more strength, her imagination would become reality.
…But there would be no salvation there. She must not stimulate him. She could hear him swallowing. He was probably already regretting what he had said.
Then… then how could she seize this heaven-sent chance with her trembling heart?
…Pretend it was sleep-talking? Maybe that would work.
And so, she offered quiet gratitude.
“Mmm… I’m glad…”
Ah, she had managed to reply. But then an unbearable sorrow crashed over her once more.
“Ah, ugh… ughhh…”
He was crying. With that suppressed voice, he was sobbing. She wanted to shout that she had missed him too, that she had wanted to see him again. If she could just tell him she loved him, that she was grateful, and above all, that she was sorry—if she could convey all these feelings, how wonderful that would be. How wonderful.
After a whirlwind of frantic thoughts swept through her mind, she finally managed to open her eyes. Her eyes were moist. Tear tracks were visible on her cheeks. She rose carefully from her seat. Could she see his face? She moved cautiously.
Ah. Aah…
There was a smile on his face.
She collapsed silently, covering her mouth with all her strength as her body shook. That single small smile had washed away the self-loathing that not even whips could erase.
