He got in bed, his sword still gripped, and closed his eyes. Suddenly, he opened them again and lay on his side, leaving a gap behind him. He craned his neck forward, like he was searching, waiting for something. With a wry smile, he closed his eyes and waited for sleep to claim him.
Just as he was about to fall asleep, he felt a soft warmth under his head. Dranvi was sitting in the spot he’d left for her. He could tell it was her from her smell. Adonis grinned again, feeling a prickle of heat in his nose.
He couldn’t believe himself. He teared up. The intense emotion was scary, but it didn’t hurt. He wasn’t sure what to call this sensation that filled him up, thawing out his frozen heart. After a moment’s hesitation, Adonis simply decided to call it warmth.
His tears rolled down his cheeks, dripping onto Dranvi’s lap. She noticed he was crying, but that didn’t bother Adonis anymore.
“This is like some kind of pretend family…”
Dranvi’s hands brushed through his hair.
“I really am hopeless if playing house is what’s going to save me…”
His voice trembled. To try to settle himself, he curled up his back and clenched his grip on the sword. Resting his head on her lap, he took quiet breaths. Warm darkness enveloped Adonis.
“…I want to see it, too. The future you entrusted Runding with when you forged it…”
“I made that sword to be an Antefestum. An imperfective sword,” Dranvi whispered. “Steel not yet born… A sword forever in a state of constant birth.”
“Oh… So that’s the secret behind that sword. It’s seen so many battles, but it feels like it hasn’t matured at all.”
“Because that sword does not mature. It is born.”
“I think I’m starting to understand…why you want me to use this sword.”
Dranvi’s fingers softly touched the back of Adonis’s hand where it held Rusty Nail.
“I made this sword to be a Postfestum. A perfective sword.”
“Ah.”
“Steel that rusted over… A sword that is forever in a state of withering.”
“Ah, I see… I think I understand your intentions now. You want me to take this sword and… God… Then Belle…”
His words melted into the dark. It was indeed the form of a future that remained indiscernible until it fully appeared. Adonis blinked, trying to clear away the thought. His tears had already stopped.
“You shouldn’t touch my hand.”
“I told you. It was you who determined this was the form of your curse.”
As he tried to brush away Dranvi’s hand, Adonis’s eyes opened wide.
“Why…?”
“Your curse comes from within you… That’s the true form of that which fills the world with enmity and hatred.”
Adonis was stunned. Despite his injuries, he sat up and stared at Dranvi. Both looked at each other, close enough to feel each other’s breathing, and he trembled.
“You don’t mean…?”
His trembling hand touched Dranvi. At first, he felt her mantle crumble away, rotting. It was almost a relief. But it soon stopped. As his palm pressed against her bosom, all Adonis could feel was her warmth.
A pained smile played over Adonis’s lips. “Really…?” He laughed feebly.
“It was…really that simple?” He wept, laughing all the while. “The world always reaches out to me in reconciliation when it’s too late…”
He hung his head, his sword in hand. Dranvi wrapped her arms around him in an embrace.
With a mighty swing, the sound of shattering metal filled the space.
The next moment, Adonis was flung back through the air. He wasn’t sure where he’d been hit, but he coughed up blood as he went flying and then tumbled to the floor.
“Finally, a bit of progress,” Sian said indifferently.
Looking up, Adonis saw Sian discard the broken sword in his hand. The blade, half of which had been cleaved through, was completely wilted, and the impact against the floor was enough to shatter it to pieces.
Sian then pulled another sword out of the floor but, seeing that Adonis was lying there, unable to get up, thrust it back into the tourmaline.
He approached with sacred ashes and bandages in hand. Adonis bared his teeth at him like a cornered animal, so Sian kicked him in the jaw to silence him.
“You better find your spell fast. Otherwise, all this will be for nothing.”
After waiting for the pain in his jaw to pass, Adonis muttered, “Can I call you by your name?”
“I don’t mind.”
“I’ll kill you someday, Sian.”
“Who do you think you’re talking to, whelp?”
This time, the older man kicked his wounds. Adonis grabbed onto his leg, moaning in pain.
“You don’t wither…,” he whispered, his face contorted in a way that almost made it look like he was simultaneously offended and hurt.
“Idiot.”
Without shaking off his grasp, Sian leaned in and poked Adonis on the head.
“You sure run your mouth. If you’ve got enough strength left to talk, you might as well lick my boot.”
Adonis smirked bravely. “…That doesn’t suit you, idiot.”
“…It doesn’t, does it?”
“You really are an idiot.”
Sian chuckled and, after finishing treating Adonis’s wounds, got to his feet. Looking up at him, Adonis narrowed his eyes.
“I just realized something…”
“What?”
“Belle takes after you. When I first met her, I thought she was trying to pass herself off as a man. I thought she was just really conscious about how she looked and tried to keep the fact that she’s a woman out of other people’s minds, but… That wasn’t it. The way she talks, the way she laughs…and the way she wants to go on a Journey. She takes after you in all of those things… Even now, when she forgot you.”
“…Hmph. Someday, she will go to places even I can never reach,” Sian replied, driven by emotion.
It was odd, seeing him like that. Adonis interpreted his behavior as being bashful in his own way.
“What’s so funny?”
Before Adonis could answer, Sian kicked him in the chest.
“And that goes for you, too. I’m pinning my hopes on you here, so hurry up and get good enough to at least keep me amused.”
Glancing at Adonis groaning in pain, Sian left through a door.
“Nngh… I-it…hurts…”
Lying on his back and looking up at the grayish-blue ceiling, so reminiscent of a lake’s surface, Adonis whispered over and over.
“It hurts… It hurts… It hurts…”
He felt like by doing this long enough, he could make the pain his own, too.