EP.139 The North Wind and the Sun
The Aesop’s fable of The North Wind and the Sun naturally floated to my mind.
It wasn’t the fierce wind that stripped the traveler of his clothes, but the blazing sun.
Sometimes, great power can’t surpass flexible thinking.
This was an ancient lesson even a child who just learned to read would likely know.
”Oh… this… b-bear…”
”Uuuhh…”
As I forced my stiff tongue to articulate words out of embarrassment, each time I did, the hero’s delightful sleep murmurs responded back.
Indeed, it was effective.
It was a last-ditch effort where I had nothing to lose, but with every time I softly whispered, the strength wrapping around my waist noticeably loosened.
Honey, why do you keep whining?
There’s a reason for that.
The hero’s arm was pressed against me so tightly that air couldn’t even seep in, but an empty space the size of a golf ball had formed within that grip, giving credibility to the hypothesis I mentioned earlier.
If I repeated this embarrassing process just a few more times, I was sure I would soon escape this sturdy cage.
However, as with all matters in life, this seemingly easy journey was not so smooth.
”Hoo…”
It was an enormous source of self-loathing for me to act all cutesy towards the very hero, whom I had never once fallen for in either this life or the last.
At least it was a blessing that the hero wasn’t fully conscious.
If my disgusting voice, sounding like I was flirting, were to be heard by anyone else, I would surely want to end this life by my own hand.
Even after I managed to give the hero a kiss on the forehead, thinking that nothing could be worse, I soon learned that another hardship awaited me.
After barely overcoming one adversity, here I was simply resenting my unfortunate fate that promised another.
”Hoo!”
After sacrificing my self-esteem through this agonizing waiting time, I finally succeeded in my escape.
Apparently, the overly sweet words of “There’s no one but you, hero” had effectively scratched around her neck.
Though I felt a bit guilty treating a woman of marriageable age in this world like a giant dog kept at home, I had no luxury to choose means or methods in this urgent time.
”Hero, I’m going to head out now…”
”Mm…”
As soon as I gently brushed the hero’s forehead, which was smacking her lips like an infant, I tried to quietly slip away.
Suddenly!
The hero, half-asleep, gently grabbed my sleeve.
Fortunately, she didn’t latch onto my wrist, so there seemed to be no significant trouble shaking it off.
But.
”Don’t go…”
That voice, filled with anxiety, was so pitiful. A single drop of dew forming at the corner of her eye seemed to entangle me like a sticky trap.
Did she instinctively sense for whom and towards where I was headed?
That tiny force pulling on my sleeve felt like the hero’s shared sorrow was fully transmitted to me.
”It’s okay… I’ll be back soon… I promise. I won’t go anywhere without you ever again…”
Though I could have pushed her away effortlessly, I deliberately chose conversation.
Attempting to converse with someone whose consciousness was not whole might sound ridiculous, but callously brushing off the hero who clung to me so desperately was an impossible act for me.
”Mm…”
As if understanding my thoughts, not long after, the hero released my sleeve.
In return, I covered her shoulder with the blanket that was sprawled across the bed and patted her shoulder as if praising a child who accomplished something big.
How could anyone recognize her, the hero burdened with the fate of the world, as anything but a child, still acting so childishly even though she had physically grown?
Feeling a complex emotion that couldn’t be expressed in words, I unconsciously let out a chuckle.
Just then.
It felt like a gnat had briefly fluttered by my neck, creating an ominous sense of unease.
Without warning, a vague presence pricked my thoughts, suddenly making me turn around.
”W-What was that…?”
Yet no matter how I looked around, I couldn’t find the source of that sensation.
I had felt similar sensations before while changing clothes or bathing, but it had become more frequent since departing from the party after a certain night’s incident.
I couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment it started, but I could guess it began after that troublesome night with the hero.
Was I being watched by someone?
If so, who could it be?
I would have to consult Dawna, an expert in this field, soon.
◈◈◈
Though I hadn’t realized it, my steps quickened.
As my senses gradually returned to normal after shaking off the drowsiness, the puzzle pieces of my fragmented memories were starting to fit together at last.
While navigating the complicated corridors, I seemed to bump into familiar faces a few times, but I couldn’t recall who was who.
At that moment, I was struggling just to sort through the memories of what was mine and what wasn’t, without a breath to spare.
”Hah… Hah…”
Leaning against the empty corridor, I took a brief moment to gather my breath.
The throbbing headache still persisted, but perhaps due to having found something to lean on, my mind felt considerably lighter.
Clink.
I lifted the rosary that had been tangled around my neck to my face.
It was a memory-embedded rosary.
To put a deadly weapon inside a prayer bead crafted solely for offering prayers to the gods was generally perceived as the notion of barbaric heretics, making it an item hard to come by in this capital city, often regarded as a defective good.
But thanks to this shabby blade, I had saved my life countless times.
In battle, the presence of weapons often decides life or death.
Even if it was just a palm-sized knife, surely it was better than having nothing at all – a common understanding recognized even by kids outside this system.
Yes, a child.
It was her, that mere child, who handed this to me.
The shocking reality that I had completely forgotten such an obvious fact kept interrupting my composed breathing.
Moreover, I had even used that precious gift as a tool for self-harm right in front of the person who gave it to me.
What kind of feelings did she have?
Seeing me tear into my own skin with the tool she had offered, wishing for my safety and peace.
Would she despair? Or perhaps despise me?
One thing was certain: it would not have stirred any good feelings within her.
”Saintess…”
I pressed the tightly gripped rosary against my chest and softly called out to her.
There I was, saying I would first head to the sister to understand the situation, and now my feet were carrying me straight toward her, to the meeting room.
How on earth would I face her upon meeting her?
I had to meet her. We needed to talk.
The only thought energizing me at present was that alone.
”Ugh!”
Once more, a headache assaulted my head, and I inadvertently sank to the floor.
This time, it wasn’t forgotten memories that surfaced.
It was someone else’s injected memories.
The horrific rite carried out to transform an ordinary girl into the chosen saint by the gods.
Divine selection. Baptism.
The sensation of all those atrocities and their implications flooding my mind was accompanied by an indescribable agony.
Drip. Drop.
Crimson blood flowed from my nose, staining the pure white floor.
But even amidst this, my consciousness was fixated on tracing back the past intertwined with pain.
Was this the process to make a saint?
To have a saint, who was supposed to belong to the hero party, induced to remain in the meeting room through the blessing ceremony, was that truly a means to cover up such a grotesque facade?
If that was the reason why the current saintess had ended up like this…
”Ugh… Ugh…!”
Even the nausea rising in my throat, tearing up, was difficult to discern if it stemmed from my own emotions.
The only certainty was this: she was waiting for me. She wanted the helping hand I could extend.
Honestly, that alone was reason enough for me to take a step forward.
How much time had passed?
”S-Saintess! No, Sister Welna…!”
My wobbly steps, as if I were drunk, finally came to a halt right in front of the place I wished to reach.
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