Forbidden Territory (2)
While Yorahan wrestled with his conscience, Areon put on a display of power in front of the Hwa.
"Behold. I took this forest with a hundred cavalry. And I command more than ten thousand troops. Soon this world will lie beneath my feet."
Armand watched with eyes that betrayed no fear of the world and thought,
'Intriguing.'
Young, beautiful, with that forward, dominant manner as if born only to rule...
'This must be what people mean by royal blood.'
It wouldn't be strange if light seemed to radiate from Areon himself.
'But I hate it.'
That light made Armand uncomfortable.
'If only one being is meant to shine, that light is never beautiful. Yorahan was— someone meant to be a light that embraced the whole world.'
Chief Lutia asked,
"What will you do with us?"
"I am magnanimous."
Despite his words, Areon's gleaming longsword slid up beneath Lutia's jaw.
"However, only to my subjects."
Areon sheathed the blade and looked over the Hwa.
"You will soon become citizens of a great kingdom. You will take on important duties assisting the king. Good houses, good food, all manner of treasures will be given to you."
Lutia said, "We want nothing. We only wish to live peacefully in this forest."
"How unfortunate."
Areon's gaze turned cold.
"You don't have to be skilled at anything. I am the one who is skilled. Do you understand what that means?"
"We do not."
"It means the only thing you can do is obey."
As Areon raised his sword to cut Lutia's throat, Armand stepped forward and drew her blade.
A sharp clang rang out, and the cavalry advanced on her with sour expressions.
Areon raised a hand. "Stop."
As the riders pulled back, Fisk spoke up. "They're carnivores. They'll need a bit of taming. Leave them to me."
If it came to killing, better he do it himself than leave it to soldiers.
"No, that won't be necessary."
Areon stepped back with absolute confidence.
"Woman, what is your name?"
"Armand."
"I like that."
That was all that mattered to him.
"You are not a slave. You are strong and proactive. Come to me. I will save you from hell."
Having lived with Yorahan for over two years, she had come to understand men's speech.
"I'm a married woman. I can't do that."
"Haha! Didn't I say I was magnanimous? I don't care about things that happened before we met. But if you deny me now—even if your entire people die—you'll have no excuse."
Armand said nothing.
'Sorry, everyone.'
Because she could not betray Yorahan, the Hwa would be slaughtered—but then she would take up her sword.
"Hmm. Indeed—"
Areon watched Armand's silent refusal with a look that bordered on madness.
"Kill them all."
"Wait! Wait, please!" Yorahan ran out from the storeroom, and for the first time Armand's face showed emotion.
Relief washed over her so strongly she almost forgot everything, but then her brow tightened.
'Why did you come? Fool.'
Areon asked, "Who is this? Is there a traitor among the Hwa?"
"I— I'm human. A wandering thinker. I was captured by the Hwa and humiliated for two years."
"Captured?"
By this gentle people?
"This Armand is my wife. For two years I taught her knowledge and skills. I was constantly watched so others among the Hwa wouldn't touch her."
A flimsy lie would ruin their only chance, so she stuck to the truth.
When Areon turned, Fisk said, "It's possible. Ancient texts describe carnivores as cruel and savage."
Scholars had recorded facts; they'd simply ignored why carnivores would be cruel or savage toward humans.
"I see."
He looked at Yorahan with interest, then glanced at Armand and asked, "If she was held by force, I suppose it wouldn't matter if I took your wife, would it?"
"Th-that is—"
"Why? Does it bother you?"
"N-no! How could I harbor such feelings for the prince of Mikas! I only have one request."
"A request?"
Yorahan prostrated herself.
"Take me to Mikas. I will do anything you order—I'll do my best!"
Used to being begged by talented people from all over the world, Areon was pleased.
"Haha! A thinker with a sense of the times. Very well. I'll keep you by my side."
"Thank you!"
Humans cannot read another's heart; it was natural the Hwa would feel betrayed.
'Why?'
Armand knew Yorahan's truth.
'There should be no way.'
Because she knew Yorahan wasn't the sort of man who would abandon his wife even to the point of death, her doubt deepened.
"Good. That settles it. Your husband has knelt before me. Now you choose."
Trusting Yorahan, Armand lowered her sword; Areon accepted it as submission.
"Yes—that's how the world works. You may stand. You'll have many duties to perform for me." Yorahan lifted her face from the lowest place, and Areon planted his feet and raised his face to the sky.
Did he know?
'He can see.'
It's at the seam between extremes that a person's lifeline shows most clearly.
At that moment Yorahan's expression went blank; she rose as if by instinct and drew the dagger from her bosom.
"Huh?"
Her motion was not born of hatred or resentment—it was so smooth it looked as if she were swinging at nothing.
Then—
"Argh!" Blood spurted from the nape of Areon's neck.
"Prince!"
Yorahan had cut a place a suit of armor could not cover. She turned and shouted, "Run!"
The Hwa were stunned.
'Teacher...'
They had never imagined she could do harm.
"What are you waiting for? Do you want to die?"
If the world made an order, the one they would follow above all was Yorahan.
"Everyone! Into the forest! Now!"
The Hwa snapped out of it and ran with everything they had.
The cavalry captain, knowing they'd lose their quarry in the trees, spurred his mount. "Chase them! Leave not one alive!"
"Wait!"
At Fisk's cry the cavalry hesitated.
"Prince."
Areon's condition was dire.
They pressed at the wound, but hot blood poured through their palms.
"He avoided the spine and cut an artery. To buy time for escape? This one knows anatomy."
At that time few had such knowledge.
"F-Fisk."
Areon's face puffed; he grabbed Fisk's shoulder and forced out syllables. "Sa... save me. Sa... save me."
'Damn it!'
Whoever the Hwa were, if the prince died, their lives would be forfeit.
Fisk lifted his head. "Return to base with the prince at once! Hurry! Don't waste a single second!"
To cross a forest like Mikas by the shortest route, the cavalry would have to accept sacrifice.
"Prince! Hold on just a little longer!"
As he transported Areon, Fisk marshaled every scrap of his knowledge to staunch the bleeding.
'Earth can close a wound, but this hemorrhage is too severe. Then with the power of water... could we create blood?'
Far in the future humanity would understand many things, but that was after many more wars.
"Ughhh!"
Fisk's face, slick with cold sweat, was filled with despair. "I don't know!"
No combination of the four classical elements—air, earth, water, fire—could conjure blood.
"What about iron?"
Or something else.
"Fisk."
Perhaps because he was so focused, Areon's voice grated this time.
"Prince."
Already pale as death, Areon looked like someone about to pass away even to a non-expert.
"I don't want... to die."
With those words, the prince of Mikas slipped from the world without even closing his eyes.
"It's over."
Even if they returned to the kingdom, the king of Mikas would have them killed.
"Blood."
It no longer mattered.
"Blood, huh."
If it had ruined his life, then it was worth staking his life on.
"Hmph."
He leaped from the moving carriage and watched the prince's corpse head back toward Mikas.
According to the Omega records, Fisk devoted his life to creating blood and failed.
He completed a study on the composition and components of blood, but that was a story unrelated to the transmission dream.
Shirone's unconscious, sunk deep into the dream, was drawn to Yorahan's anguish.
"Hah! Hah!"
Leading the Hwa and running through the forest, Yorahan felt darkness press at the edges of her vision.
Only when she collapsed to her knees did she realize how close she'd come to fainting; pain rushed through her.
"Yorahan."
Armand could not speak.
"My... I..."
Her hands trembled. Yorahan muttered with eyes like a hollowed soul. "I killed someone. I killed a person."
Her creed—preaching love and shunning violence—had dissolved in an instant.
No—that was only rationalizing.
"Ugh." She was simply terrified; her chest ached as if something poisonous writhed in her stomach.
"Armand, I... I..."
"Pull yourself together. You saved the Hwa. That's enough. If it weren't for you, they'd all be dead."
"Lord... Lord SaegyeChangYu. Honey, I... I can't bear it..."
Seeing Yorahan's eyes roll back half a step, Armand hurriedly linked minds with her.
The moment they became one, she wept.
'What a tender heart.'
She was the kind of person who wouldn't kick a rolling pebble for no reason.
Armand whispered, "I'm sorry. It's all my fault. I couldn't protect you. I should have—"
He had wanted to make her dream come true.
They say sorrow is halved when shared, and this time it truly was; Yorahan steadied.
"No, that's not it."
Had she been wandering through dreams until now?
"I was foolish. I'd never lost anything, so I didn't know reality—my ideals were too lofty."
"Yorahan."
"Let's hide. Let's hide and never come out. Live with the Hwa in a place without violence or selfishness."
"And your dream? You said you wanted to save humanity."
"Many Hwa have already been sacrificed. I don't want to lose anyone else. Above all, without you I..."
They were already one heart; she felt the same total absence of lingering attachments.
"All right. I understand."
If her husband wanted it, that was enough.
"Let's leave. Into a forest where no one can find us, somewhere no one will disturb us."
"...Yes."
Thus Yorahan abandoned her conviction.
Still, the transmission dream continued, and Shirone found it suddenly comprehensible.
'I see.'
He knew better than anyone how difficult it is to put love into practice; if it could be realized at all...
'What remains for him now...'
The first Yorahan.
After thesis and antithesis, his final event—brought about through synthesis—was about to unfold.