“Hmm?” Nordstone’s face scrunched dubiously, appraising Col from head to toe. “You’ll be taking sword in hand? Like that?” Nordstone was shorter than Col, a bit on the thinner side, and elderly to top it all off. But there was a thick, resolute core that supported his back. Metallic reinforcements, perhaps. Something firm and passionate that no dulled blade could slice through. “No sword, but…” But Col was ready to deal with this in his own way. He steadied his breathing and continued, “I am confident that you are not participating in heresy. I am going to talk the Father down.” Shocked, Nordstone finally lowered the tip of his sword to the ground. “You are using the human bones as fertilizer, are you not?” “Vadan blabbed, did he?” Nordstone asked, and Col expressly shook his head. “My companions threatened him all they could, but he refused to reveal a thing. We received counsel from an ore merchant who used to be a swordsmith, and an alchemist who is an acquaintance.” Nordstone looked at Col with narrowed eyes before dropping his shoulders. “I suppose the scripture does say that what is hidden will one day come to light.” “But that is why I am confident you are not a heretic.” Nordstone looked at him. The torchlight illuminated clear eyes. Eyelids covered them. “So are Vadan and his crew safe?” “Ah… Yes. They brought us back here on their ship.” Nordstone nodded slowly and opened his eyes with a heavy breath. “Then take the cargo to the company in town. I have lots of people out there who can get us out of this mess.” “Understood. And if I may, please leave your weapons here. I will negotiate with the priest in your place. I may seem like an unreliable boy, but for some reason, the people around me see me as—” As Col was explaining himself, Nordstone reached up and lightly bumped his fist against Col’s chest, still gripping his sword. “I appreciate the sentiment. You reached the truth of things where others only saw peril. I was right; you aren’t just another simpleminded fanatic.” Still feeling a steady pressure on his chest for some reason, Col took a step back, and Nordstone smiled slightly. “I am not a heretic. But I am an enemy of the Church.” “Is that wordplay?” Nordstone broke out into a grin. He gave a strange laugh, one without noise. “No, I’m an enemy. I’m their enemy.” “Just because you do not attend mass does not mean you are a nonbeliever.” “That is not what I mean.” Nordstone easily lifted the sword in his right hand and rested it on his shoulder. He was supposed to look like a gallant warrior, but for some reason he seemed like he was carrying farming tools instead. “I am their enemy. Stephan should be vaguely aware of this. That’s why you shouldn’t associate with me. This is my thanks for saving Vadan: a serious warning.” “………” “But I’m not going to let them lead me away.” As Col stood dumbfounded, Myuri’s triangular ears moved, and Sharon, who sat on Az’s shoulder, extended her neck. They could hear the murmur of movement from beyond the trees. The crowd had reached the forest entrance. “I’ll flail and thrash and pretend to be a poor old man possessed by a demon. Then Stephan should be able to cut me out of this land without a second thought. At long last…” Nordstone turned to look at his house. “I’ve decided to leave this place. You said you hitched a ride on Vadan’s ship, didn’t you? Perfect. It’s time I discard this name and reap real benefits, as you suggested.” Nordstone was not being spurred on by a sense of self-abandonment. He had certainly been constantly thinking about what little time he had left, but had never been able to take that first step. And at long last, his chance had finally come, so all he had to do was prepare himself to move forward. He was so full of determination, there was no sense of despair about him at all. Instead, Col could even picture him heading west across the sea with Vadan, a refreshed look as he sailed. “Right, if you’ll listen to one request of mine, then take Gulart to the harbor. He’s inside. And send word over to Vadan and the crew: Tonight, as the sun sets, we will at long last follow in the alchemist’s footsteps.” Watching him speak, Col felt ashamed that he ever thought of Nordstone, who had been left behind by the alchemist, as a two-bit player in this grand tale. He was nothing of the sort. He was perfectly suited to be a member of the main cast in any of the adventure tales Myuri so adored. That was because a protagonist would keep standing back up despite setbacks. “Is this a trained wolf?” Nordstone asked, looking at Myuri. “Ah…” “Ruff!” Myuri imitated a wolflike bark, one Col had never heard from her before, then neatly put her front paws together and sat down. “I don’t have what it takes to make a show of force on my own, but a wolf will look impressive. Mind if I borrow your friend?” “Uh… Um…” Col hesitated because he saw how brightly Myuri’s eyes shone; he knew she was thrilled by the chance of a good rampage. Though displeased he was with how eager she seemed, he worried she might actually sink her teeth into him if he said no. He had no choice but to give his approval. “You have my thanks. A wolf is perfect for the job of scattering those ingrates out in the field.” Myuri got up and approached Nordstone. He placed his sword down to give her a thorough scratching, and she looked at him curiously. “When we were researching how to grow wheat, we found a folktale from the mainland. They apparently describe the abundant grains waving in the wind as ‘running wolves’. Out there, they think of wolves as a symbol of bountiful grain.” Myuri’s still tail immediately started spinning with vigor, like a waterwheel. She was so enthusiastic that Col felt like she would go west with Nordstone if he left her alone for long. “Well, I think this fur is a bit too light to compare it to grain.” Myuri growled and thumped Nordstone with her nose. “Heh-heh. I guess it’s true that smart wolves understand people-speak. Sorry about that, sorry.” He gave her vigorous pets with a practiced hand. Col recalled the pigs and sheep peacefully roaming the area around his house. “Now, let’s go teach those ingrates a lesson.” “Woof!” Nordstone marched off with long strides, and Myuri followed along without so much a glance back. They looked like they had been fighting together for decades as they moved into the distance. Az looked at Col with sincerity and hesitated for a moment. “I’m going to assist them, too.” “Yes, please.” He was not so much asking for Az to help Nordstone as he was asking him to make sure that Myuri did not go overboard. As Az ran after Nordstone and Myuri, Sharon took flight and perched on Col’s shoulder. “I underestimated him.” In better times, Nordstone would have left his mark on the world as an illustration in the thick chronicles of history. “I do not agree with his insistence that he is an enemy of the Church, however…” “It’s his pride.” It was precisely his pride that plagued Stephan with worry, so Col found himself sympathizing with the young lord as well. But he was grateful that things did not seem like they were going to have a grim ending. “Now, let us take this Gulart to the harbor and rejoin Vadan’s crew.” “I’ll go contact Vadan. I’ll leave Gulart to you.” Sharon extended her wings to fly off, but Col stopped her in a hurry. “Could you come with me? It would be quite sad if I got lost.” “………” Sharon fixed him with a cold stare, but Col doubted he would be able to find his way through the woods alone. He had panicked like a fool when he had been unable to communicate with the pigeons in Kerube. The people called him the Twilight Cardinal, but he was quite slow, frustratingly so for Myuri, when it came to literally anything else. “I’ll be waiting, then. Go get him.” Sharon took flight and alit on the roof. The noise from beyond the forest grew—perhaps Nordstone and the crowd had made contact. Col was rather worried, but he doubted it would get too bad with Myuri there. Even the toughest fighter would be petrified with shock coming across a wolf in the nighttime wood, especially if they did not know the truth. Col opened the door and stepped inside. Candles dotted the inner rooms, from where he heard a noise. “Gulart! Are you there?!” There then came a sluggish, weak response from inside: “Please wait a moment.” Gulart was likely packing things away because they were leaving the house. And judging by the voice, he sounded quite old. Perhaps he was another survivor from the old homeland of Gressia. Col went farther in to help. As he passed through the book-filled entrance, he came to the room filled with ore specimens. The cat alchemist had likely done all her research here. When he passed through that room, he came to where Nordstone organized all his grain and still did his research. Or perhaps this room was from a time when his wife and alchemist were still around, and the three of them thought long and hard together about how to cultivate wheat. Col remembered how the quills had been scattered across the floor, like an echo of those bygone days. But those had all been cleaned up, and the room was a bit neater. He was about to proceed into the next room when his feet came to a sudden halt. The room felt like it was too big. “Hmm?” He looked around, but it was not as though the room had changed in any way. Just as he came to that conclusion, he realized what it was. “The still is…gone?” Considering the scope of wheat production here, he had thought they had used it to experiment with alcohol. The sphere had been almost unnaturally smooth and round, and the odd pattern on it made him think that the alchemist had been using it. But the large item, which had been clustered so tightly with books and rolls of parchment, was now nowhere to be found. “………” Perhaps he had hidden any suspicious item that he suspected the priest could find fault with, since he and his lackeys would almost certainly be ransacking the house. That was what Col initially thought, but there was an uneasy buzzing in his chest; he remained motionless before the spot where the still was supposed to be. What are you doing? He could almost hear the voice coming from the other room. “The still…” Col had at first thought it was being used for experimentation with beer, and he then thought it was being used to extract acid from pyrite. But Diana had said that it was a tool unsuited for doing the latter. On top of that, he remembered peering at the strange patterns engraved on the perfectly round surface. What on earth had that been? Hold on, he thought. “I’ve…seen those somewhere before…” He desperately searched his memory, but the harder he tried to remember, the more the carvings on the copper’s red surface wavered, like writing written on the sea surface. Then, there came the loud sound of luggage being dragged over the floor from the next room. “Wheeze, huff… I—I shall be right there…” The one who placed the large piece of luggage on the ground with a thud was a small old man, smaller than Nordstone, who was already on the short side. This was probably the last night they would spend in this house, and he had been desperately collecting things they could not leave behind under any circumstances. When the old man put the large case down, he went back into the other room. “Let me help you!” Col called out and moved to follow him, but he found himself frozen, like he was caught on a fishhook. “Ohh!” This made him no different than Myuri when she could not get her eyes off the skewered meat at a food stall. He tried his hardest to peel his feet off the floor and help Gulart. There then came a fierce wind that battered the house’s glass windows. It sounded like it was trying to stop him from moving—was it just his imagination? A waning moon peeked out from between the thick clouds that drifted on the wind. The moonlight poured almost audibly through the glass. The white light, blinding to eyes adjusted to the dark, illuminated the entire room. Indeed, there was an unnatural gap where the still once stood. That unusual sphere had undoubtedly been right there, and Nordstone had deliberately put it away. The shadows in the room were deeper when illuminated by the moon than they were in daytime, and there were clear marks on the floor where stacks of books had been dragged across the floor. “He can get any simple still in town, though…” It had to be because of those strange markings. Were they blasphemous prayers toward God? The moment this extreme thought came to him, his breath caught in his throat. “Toward…God…” A strange feeling seized him as his muttering, his barely audible delirium, trailed off. He looked up to the waning moon in the sky, beyond the dirtied glass. He could clearly see the rough patterns on the surface of the moon, and the waning side looked like it was melding into shadow. It looked like a light shining on a sphere from the side— “Ah.” In that moment, he understood everything. —I am not a heretic. But I am an enemy of the Church. Those words went hand in hand with the copper sphere, an item that looked like a still with strange patterns carved into it, which was now inexplicably gone from the house. Then there was the alchemist who headed across the western sea, and an old ruling noble who wished to follow her. What had he said was the reason why the alchemist thought there was a continent at the edge of the western sea?” “Astrology,” Col murmured, and swallowed his words. There was no way to confirm his theory. There was absolutely no proof. But like a cat chasing a ball of yarn, the alchemist had gone west. Why had she been able to set off on such a directionless journey? Vadan did mention that cats hid themselves when they knew they were going to die. But that would be much too foolhardy a choice if approached with common sense. But what if she had assurance she was making the right choice? Assurance that if she kept going west, she would circle back around from the east? Col felt like he could almost see the alchemist, her eyes narrowed as she rounded the large copper sphere, studying the patterns carved into it. And that pattern was none other than the world map, the very one Myuri had stared at so hard. “I-I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” That voice brought Col back to his senses. He turned around to see Gulart had finished gathering all the luggage that could not be left behind, his shoulders heaving with each ragged breath. Col’s head felt like an empty pot on the fire, and his heart was audibly pounding. Luckily, his body moved on its own. He wrapped rope around the large cases, which were too much for Gulart to handle, and slung them on his own somewhat feeble shoulders. “Th-the kitchen door is open,” Gulart informed him, his breath still coming in gasps. Col did as he was told and took a step farther in, toward the kitchen. He glanced back into the room one last time; perhaps the moon now hid behind a cloud, as it was already dark and quiet. It was like a flash of a nightmare, illuminated by a single strike of lightning. He stomped his feet hard under the weight of the cases to confirm that this was indeed reality. He brought the cases outside, packed them onto the horse Az rode in on, and then proceeded through the trees following Sharon’s guidance, who seemed annoyed that he had taken so long. The house sat quietly in the woods. Without a word, it remained hunched over. It looked like a bear, patiently awaiting the end of winter.
Chapter 83
15 min read