“The weather has gotten quite cold.”
I was sitting in a cafe I had rented out in the Capital. Outside, paladins in plainclothes stood guard to ensure no one was listening. Iris clasped her hands together over her steaming mug of tea. Her hands were shaking slightly, and not just from the cold.
“What will happen to Arjen?”
“Death.”
I said simply as if it were no big deal. There was no reason to hesitate; no need to rephrase it. Arjen would die. It didn’t seem like he intended to avoid death in the first place, a decision completely out of character for him. The Arjen I know does not accept such things lightly. The blood drained from Iris’ face.
“The death penalty… is it?”
“He has done too much to be overlooked.”
What’s done is done. I sighed, lowering my eyes.
“You could have sent them to the fringes or something.”
“I don’t think it’s out of the question. He could have some use if we could somehow quell the anger and displeasure of the knights and soldiers. Of course, the final decision is not mine…. We’ll have to wait and see.”
I could not interfere in internal affairs. I had no right to interfere if the Queen was adamant about disposing of him. Of course, if I pleaded, things could change. My word would soon carry more weight than words in the palace, but once I began to meddle in internal affairs, there would be no end to it.
“…I suppose we can do nothing.”
I could not have said it any better. Iris didn’t blame me, only silently, lifting her teacup and taking a sip before setting it back down.
“Well, we can’t make any assumptions, so I’ll just wait and see.”
Isis glanced at Bishop Andrei, who sat beside her wordlessly. His mood was somber. The ever-present smile on his face was nowhere to be seen. He made eye contact with me, and with great difficulty, the corners of his mouth lifted.
“Thank you for all your hard work.”
“Wouldn’t you like to meet Arjen?”
“…Are you unable to tell me what happened to him?”
“It’s not the same as hearing it firsthand, and I feel he would like to talk to you.”
A deep sigh escaped Andrei’s mouth.
“…Thank you.”
“I’ll put in a request, and I’m sure the palace will welcome it.”
He nodded, stood up, and quietly left the cafe. I stood up to say goodbye, only to look down to see Iris pulling at my arm.
“What’s wrong?”
“Your condition has taken a turn for the worst.”
Iris said in reprimandingly. I met her stern eyes and smiled wryly. She must have ignored it because she scowled.
“It-”
“-wouldn’t be weird for me to just collapse at any moment.”
“So you do know you pushed yourself too hard! It’s a situation where you should never use magic again. What in the world made you fight so hard?!”
Iris shouted. Her Holy Mana flowed into my body.
“If you can’t, at least come visit me once a week. It’s best if you stay in the Holy Land because I can’t always be in the Kingdom.”
“Thank you for your concern.”
I jerked my head toward the Bishop watching us from the window, then looked back at Iris.
“I’ll visit when I get the chance.”
“Again, there’s no cure, so you’ll have to visit often, okay?”
“Okay, okay.”
I got the instinct that Iris wanted to tie me up so I couldn’t do anything dumb. I finally calmed her down and sat her back down.
“About Arjen…I don’t know what will happen to him. Georg has his leg cut off; the Bishop looks like that, and you are making me worry. What am I supposed to do?”
She sobbed quietly. I rubbed Iris’ blond hair, which had spilled over the table.
“I’m not dead, and Arjen’s not dead. If you’re having a hard time, I’m here to listen.”
“Shut up. If you want to reduce my burden, take care of yourself.”
I nodded, accepting the mana. It traveled relentlessly through my veins toward my heart, wrapping around the torn chunks of magic and binding them together.
“Live. It is what all of the people you saved wish for you.”
“It’s not my choice to live or die anymore.”
“Then, as the Saintess, I order you to take care of yourself.”
I looked out the window and saw Andrei talking to the paladins. Then, I thought of Arjen, locked in the deepest recesses of the Kingdom’s dungeons.
“Do you think Arjen hates you?”
Iris seemed stunned by the sudden question, then looked like she’d swallowed a bitter pill.
“Why would he hate us?”
“Because you could have prevented his death, but you’re doing nothing to help.”
Iris gazed at me with a complicated look.
“…It’s because there is nothing I can do. I also know that if I asked you to save Arjen right now, you couldn’t refuse my request, but I can’t do that to you.”
I sat in silence, and Iris continued.
“…All I ask is that you let me know the decision.”
“I can do that much.”
I shrugged. She stared at me in disbelief.
“By the way, I didn’t think you cared about my feelings.”
“I would feel hurt if a colleague hated me.”
Iris narrowed her eyes and glared at me as if she didn’t like my answer. Then, with a sigh, she pushed past me and left the cafe. She quickly pulled her hood up, and the paladins waiting outside escorted her away at a slight distance.
“Iris will return to the Holy Land.”
Andrei moved next to me. I looked back at him. The shadows and wrinkles on his face were much deeper in the sunlight.
“What are you going to do, Bishop?”
“…I will head to my own quarters and wait. I’ll leave you the address, and if anything happens, send a letter to me.”
With those words, the Bishop disappeared, seeming to melt into the crowd. The incident was over, but the work was not. Once everyone left my side, I felt all the fatigue from the recent events wash over me like a tidal wave. Arjen, the Evil God’s remnant, the Disaster, the battles before that, and the Holy Sword’s disappearance. I slumped down on the couch in the headquarters lobby and let the thoughts consume me. Sleep came quickly to my exhausted body, and I closed my eyes, not wasting a second to doze off.
***
“…What is this.”
A dream.
As soon as I opened my eyes, I realized I was in a dream, but it wasn’t blurry. I gazed up at the sky, which was becoming unbearably clear, and a sudden movement drew my gaze forward. It was a woman with gray hair blowing in an unfelt breeze.
(How are you, Elroy?”
At the sound of the voice, I stood stunned, then opened my mouth as if mesmerized.
“Holy Sword, where are you now? Is it really you?”
Holy Sword shook her head slightly. She looked out at the endless horizon of nothingness. Clouds seemed to be constantly being produced and blown in from where the edge met the sky. Her hair seemed to flow as one with the clouds.
(It is no longer necessary to fight the Seventh Disaster.)
I blinked and looked at the Holy Sword. Her smile was wry but joyful as if a heavy burden had been lifted. The clouds glinted in her tired crimson eyes.
(You no longer have to hold the sword, and you no longer need to force your heart to beat.
She sounded like she was about to disappear at any moment. I frowned and moved toward her. A distance of five paces. But no matter how far I walk, the Holy Sword doesn’t get any closer. I panicked and then stomped away, cursing.
“What are you doing now? This isn’t a dream, is it? What are you trying to show me?”
(Of course, it’s a dream, though the owner of this world is not me.)
Holy Sword said, just out of my reach. I flailed my hands futilely to pound against the barred sky, but they only passed through the air. Slowly, she moved toward me.
“Explain because I don’t think I can understand what happened in the darkness. Who you are, who I am, and the nagging suspicion I have in my heart.”
(…Now is not the time for that because I don’t want to burden you unnecessarily, so…)
Holy Sword stretched out her hand. Her thumb gently brushed my face. It was one of the few times she touched me, but it always felt like she was a fragile glass. I chewed on my lip, and she smiled.
(That means you no longer have to kill yourself for others.)
“You’re being ridiculous, really. I’m already dying.”
(You’ll just have to live an everyday life without using mana. The Saintess can’t cure you, but she can slow the process and ease the pain.)
“Shut up. I’m going to die before that happens.”
Her voice trembled as she spoke. I was overcome with the urge to grab the Holy Sword by the collar.
“The God of Light fought against the Evil God.”
The Holy Sword moved her hand away from me. The red eyes smiling so brightly sank to a dull, heavy look. She lowered her hand and sighed.
(The God of Light…)
She let out a hollow, self-deprecating laugh.
(They no longer exist, Elroy. The only beings closest to gods are the massive Endings procrastinating beyond the darkness. They constantly creep closer, full of malice.)
The Holy Sword’s voice was stiff. I frowned at the unexpected answer. The god ‘no longer’ exists? Seeing my confused expression, she spoke again.
(The God of Light died at the end of the Mythical Age, scattering their power to various places.)
Someone who could casually say that a god was dead.
“…What are you?”
At the same time as my question, the Holy Sword’s image began to blur. For a moment, her expression was tinged with anxiety. She jerked her head back, then turned back to me. I gritted my teeth as the look on her face told me to ask no more questions.
“Why have you been helping me all this time?”
(I am nothing, Elroy. Not a god nor a human. I have too little time to reveal who I am, what I do, or who I am not.)
There was a hint of regret in her voice. She smiled dryly and placed a hand on my arm. Grimly, she rubbed it briefly, then took a step back.
(Do not doubt your existence despite this. You deserve to live your life unbound by the past. Your present is more important than your origins.)
I couldn’t see the Holy Sword’s feet anymore. I tried to force myself forward, drawing on my mana, but it wouldn’t budge, reminding me that this was only a dream.
“Damn it.”
My consciousness is fading. The Holy Sword was trying to kick me out of the dream. I shook my head and paced, resisting my waking consciousness. Give up? Did she think I’d accept it if she left me? Clenching my fists, I ran, my vision blurring.
Toward the person who wanted to take the burden alone.
“Hey!”
I couldn’t reach her, so I ran faster. I inched closer as her calves disappeared. My unsteady steps moved me forward, and flailing arms kept me upright. I ran, forcing the distance between us to close.
“Don’t pretend you can’t hear me.”
I caught her arm. I reached something that couldn’t be touched. Using that sensation as an anchor, I focused my consciousness on this space. I bite my tongue, but no blood comes out. I could only feel her touch to keep myself from leaving. But I can only hold her for so long. I forced myself to speak.
“I’m coming to you, wherever you are.”
The Holy Sword’s eyes narrowed. I spoke with certainty to erase the dullness from her eyes. I let my other senses drift away. All I could see were her red eyes.
“I’m waiting.”
