Leorino’s twelfth birthday was fast approaching.
The day before Leorino’s birthday was an important anniversary for the Kingdom of Fanoren. Twelve years ago, on that very day, the border fortress of Zweilink was recaptured during the war with Zwelf. It was also the day many soldiers lost their lives in battle.
The annual memorial service held at Zweilink would be attended by the royal family, members of the Royal Army, and important officials from the royal court. The Margrave of Brungwurt’s castle was the closest to Zweilink and would be hosting and entertaining the guests.
Leorino would turn twelve the day after the memorial service and would be recognized as being half-fledged. He would also be allowed to participate in the memorial service for the first time ever.
As the day drew nearer, Leorino began to be tormented by a strange unease. He figured it may have been guilt. His family loved to remind him of the circumstances of his birth whenever the opportunity presented itself. That day, many soldiers gave their lives to protect Zweilink. As the day broke, Leorino was born just as they received the news of the victory at the fortress.
The family dubbed it a miracle and called Leorino their guardian angel. But every time Leorino heard that story, it came off to him as if someone had to die just so he could live.
That night, Leorino dreamed of Ionia, the way he always did.
Except Ionia wasn’t a boy anymore.
…Ionia?
Ionia was an adult now. He was wielding a sword and fighting on a battlefield. He felt a dreadful fire at his back and intense pain. Flames lapped at his wounded body. The weight of the sword in his hand. The hot wind scorching his hair. The pain of his wounds. Everything in the dream felt real.
Leorino already knew where Ionia was standing.
This is a dream of that day…
A double fortress had been built to protect the border.
The outer fort was occupied by enemy forces.
The attack was carried out under the cover of night. Caught by surprise, the border guards were at an overwhelming disadvantage. Supporting their wounded soldiers, Ionia’s men escaped from the outer fort. A fire had been set to the plain. It spread quickly in the dry winter air.
The margrave’s Autonomous Army was waiting in Brungwurt. But they could not let the enemy get that far. If the reinforcements from the Royal Army did not arrive in time, if Brungwurt was breached, the country would be beyond saving.
Crossing the burning plains, Ionia fought his way through enemy soldiers to reach the inner fortress. There, he and his men witnessed an impossible sight. In front of the gates of the inner fortress lay a boulder of a size taller than a man. Because of it, the gates would not close.
We must close the gates immediately.
As long as the gates could be closed and the inner fortress remained in their hands, they still had a shot at victory. Even if that meant that the people inside, himself included, would not be able to escape. They could wait until the fires on the plains had died down, then seize the outer fortress again. All was not lost.
I will defend this fort until he arrives. That’s the entire reason I’m here.
Ionia made up his mind. Drawing whatever life remained in him, he set his heart ablaze and worked up his Power. He placed his hands on the boulder and poured all his strength into it. A roaring crack echoed through the fortress. The boulder had split. He used what little life remained in his body to crush the stone into even finer pieces.
Close them. Close the gates. As long as those gates are closed, we won’t be defeated.
Someone had heard his desperate cry. With a roar, the massive doors began closing. Then someone else’s voice rose from beyond the gates.
He, to whom Ionia had given his blood, his loyalty, was standing behind the gates. And behind him stood the reinforcements.
He had made it in time. He was here now.
Now we won’t be defeated.
He was reaching his hand out now, shouting to Ionia with a look of utter despair on his face.
Ionia shook his head. I can’t. I won’t make it.
The gates were already closing. He knew he would never be able to return to the other side again. But even if he was dying, even if his whole body was engulfed in flames, he could still fight. Ionia swung his sword. And then the gates closed.
I’ve done it. I protected his country.
Suddenly, he felt an impact in his stomach. He looked down and saw that a sword had pierced deep into his flesh. Ionia fell to the ground, and his eyes caught the night sky beyond the red-hot flames and dense smoke.
Ah, how I wish I could watch that beautiful starry sky for just a little while longer. And please let him…
Ionia’s life was spent. He had prayed until his very last moment.
Someone, anyone, please tell him. Please let him know how I felt…
Leorino woke up ravaged by a high fever. His body was burning hot. It was so hot, he screamed.
For the past year, Leorino had lived Ionia’s life in his dreams, as if sharing his memories. He dreamed over and over of the peaceful, ordinary life of a boy living in the royal capital.
But today’s dream made everything clear. Ionia had died young. He had fought in a war, his body had been pierced by an enemy blade, and his flesh had been engulfed in flames. Ionia’s death was too much for the young Leorino to relive. What did Ionia want to say in his final moments? And to whom?
Spurred on by his fever, Leorino cried and cried over Ionia’s regrets.