Chapter 21 - The End of the Midnight Sun - 4

As the sun began to rise, Norn paced anxiously near the village entrance.

'He should be back by now...'

He would return before sunset. That was what Bera had said before leaving, and he had unmistakably looked like a man prepared for battle.

Could something have happened to him? Surely not, but what if it had? The thought kept coming to Norn.

Strictly speaking, it was needless worry. Bera was an apostle who bore a sacred mark, and his strength was far beyond anything Norn could hope to match.

Yet Norn worried all the same.

Setting aside his prowess, Bera was a young man of only eighteen. To Norn, eighteen was an age of inexperience, when mistakes were more familiar than successes. It was only natural for an older man to worry.

'Why hasn't he come back...!'

Should he have followed him? As that thought filled Norn with unease—

RUSTLE

He heard bushes being trampled behind him and hurriedly turned toward the sound.

The figure emerging from the brush was Bera, staggering along as though he had bathed in blood.

"Ah! Sir Be—"

Norn approached him in relief, only to gasp and stop short at the sight. Bewildered words slipped from his mouth.

"Wh-what is...?"

"I've dealt with them."

The answer was brief, laden with deep exhaustion and a strangely subdued air.

"... Are you all right?"

"Yes. As you can see, I'm uninjured. But given the state I'm in..."

Bera lifted the hem of his robe as he spoke. Norn's gaze fell to the fabric, which was dripping blood.

What kind of battle had left him so thoroughly drenched in blood?

The question arose in Norn's mind, but he did not voice it. He merely clenched his fists to shake off his thoughts, then bowed to Bera and continued.

"... Yes. Please head inside first. There is still some time before the Saintess comes out, so you should be able to take your time cleaning up."

"More Draconians will probably come. We need to determine their route in advance, so please gather rumors from the surrounding area."

"Yes."

"I'll be going, then."

With that, Bera passed Norn and headed into the village.

Norn raised his head, and the sight of Bera's retreating back lodged firmly in his eyes. Drop after drop of blood dotted the path he walked, while his gloomy voice lingered in Norn's mind.

A small worry stirred within him.

'Did something happen to him?'

Something about his demeanor was decidedly wrong.

* * *

Bera took a change of clothes to the stream and plunged into the water, still soaked in blood.

The chill seeped into his skin. He had immersed himself hoping the cold might clear his mind, but the sight before his eyes made that difficult.

His gaze followed the blood washing off him—a long red path stretching through the clear water.

Looking at it, he felt his insides twist again. That blood, that red path, seemed like the road he himself had traveled. A heavy disgust rose within him at how little he had changed.

As those dark feelings welled up, Bera let out a long breath and plunged his head into the stream.

SPLASH

Feeling the cold against his face penetrate all the way into his head, Bera tried once more to steel himself.

'... Get a grip.'

This was no time to wallow in self-pity.

So what if he had not changed? So what if he still wielded a beast's sword?

Renée was here. He had to protect her here and now. He had to wield even this beast's sword.

The only thing standing in his way was his own heart.

Holding his breath, Bera gathered his resolve. Then he opened his eyes wide and jerked his submerged head out of the stream.

SPLASH!

Water flew up with the movement.

Bera watched the droplets he had sent flying, then gritted his teeth and stood.

'... I can do this.'

He was confident he could repel however many enemies came. Renée was slowly opening her heart, too. All he needed to do was suppress this self-loathing.

If he could only protect Renée, if she finally kindled her spark, he would be able to change. At that moment, she would make him not a vile wretch from the gutter, but Bera, a human being.

Water trickled down his cheeks and fell from his chin, sending brief ripples across the stream.

Bera watched them, then turned and walked away.

'... I...'

He had to save Renée.

* * *

CLICK. CLICK. CLICK.

TAP. TAP. TAP.

The sound of Renée's cane striking the ground overlapped with Bera's footsteps, forming a steady rhythm.

Bera matched Renée's pace, staying a step farther away than he had on previous days.

As always, they exchanged few words. Their conversation was merely routine: the weather, the wind, the dreams they had had the night before.

As they walked along as usual—

"Is something wrong?"

The question came from Renée without warning. Bera flinched, then quickly answered.

"Nothing is wrong."

"Really?"

"Yes."

He answered as firmly as he could, hoping to spare her needless worry, then pressed his lips shut and continued walking.

Yet had something still slipped through? Something only Renée could discern?

She asked another question.

"Did you know?"

"Know what?"

At Bera's reply, Renée stopped walking. She turned her head toward him and continued.

"People with something on their minds... especially people trying to hide it, start their sentences with their voices pressed down."

Bera flinched. Conscious of what Renée had said, he answered a beat late.

"... Is that so?"

"Yes. As though they've swallowed something before speaking. The beginning sounds pressed down, and the ending cuts off short. If you remember their usual voice and compare it with what you're hearing, it's easier to tell than you might think. Fascinating, isn't it?"

Bera looked at Renée.

A pang of dismay rose within him. He should have known she could distinguish such things, but his turbulent emotions had made him overlook it.

"Is it something you can't tell me?"

Bera was about to decline when Renée spoke again. A smile of boundless warmth rested on her lips.

"My ears still work perfectly well, you know. I can't see, but I can listen. Um... you've always listened to my troubles, Sir Knight, so I thought I should at least do this to repay you..."

She looked a little bashful. Her head, turned toward him, dipped slightly.

There was something he could feel unmistakably in all of it. Every gesture held consideration for him—the consideration he had once reflected on, which left him utterly defenseless.

Feeling something inside him begin to stir at her words and actions, Bera made an effort to clear his throat and spoke.

"... Truly, nothing happened. I had an unpleasant night's sleep, which must have made my voice sound a little subdued. Forgive me."

He delivered the words in an unbroken stream, with all the composure he could muster. Yet Renée could still detect something else beneath them.

Considering his words and the distance between them, which felt a little greater than usual, Renée thought it over.

There was something suppressed in Bera's voice. It could have been called anger, or perhaps sorrow. But if asked to choose the strongest emotion in that voice, Renée would have answered hatred.

Renée could discern the heat of hatred, its telltale signs, better than anyone she knew.

How could she not? On the day the prayers she had offered all her life betrayed her, had she not sobbed in exactly that same voice?

Of course, she did not know whom that hatred was directed at. Nor did she know what had caused it. She recognized it as hatred, but that did not mean she understood it completely.

That was only natural. Were humans not foolish creatures who could barely understand themselves, let alone others?

She might be overstepping. Her interference might only annoy him.

Even so, Renée wanted to listen to Bera's troubles. She could not solve them or fully share his feelings, but she thought she could at least listen.

She felt she owed that much to Bera, who quietly followed her and endured her temper despite how selfishly she was behaving.

"Sir Knight, do you realize something?"

"What do you mean?"

"You smell of blood right now. Very strongly, too."

RUSTLE

Grass crunched underfoot as Bera moved away from Renée.

From that sound and the fading smell of blood, she realized he was backing away. Carefully, she moved toward him again, closing the distance he had put between them.

The words slipped from her mouth.

"I'm blind, not stupid."

"I beg your par—"

"Save your begging for when you want something."

"I'm sor—"

"Sorry is what you say when you've done something wrong."

Bera gave no further reply.

Had he closed his mouth?

Realizing that she had silenced the man who always left her speechless, Renée let a small smile escape before continuing.

"I think of you as my friend, Sir Knight. You listen to me, and you've been coming to see me for more than a week now. Um... yes, I think we're friends."

"Please take that ba—"

"I'm telling you what I think. So even if you say no, there's nothing you can do about it."

Once again, Bera fell silent.

"As I understand it, friends help each other. They're people who can offer comfort in the hardest moments. So... won't you tell me? You've comforted me all this time, Sir Knight. This time, I want to comfort you."

As she went on, Bera looked at her face.

Her gaze was unfocused. She was looking slightly to one side of him. Yet even so, Bera felt that she was looking at him.

The smile on her lips, the steps she had taken closer, her endlessly clear presence—all of it was directed toward him.

The stirring within him, which had grown stronger as she approached, had now become a wave far too great to dismiss as a mere ripple.

Suddenly, Bera let out a hollow laugh, realizing that his arrogance and ignorance had once again made a mess of things.

'Save her...'

Who was saving whom? Who was protecting whom?

No, on what grounds had he even decided that her spark had yet to kindle?

Bera's brow furrowed. A long breath escaped through his tightly clenched teeth.

She was noble even without his protection, even while voicing such resentment. Even now, when caring for herself was difficult enough, she held a radiant light within her.

The spark Bera had judged unkindled was already firmly nestled in her heart.

In the end, his own arrogance and ignorance had blinded him, preventing him from seeing her clearly.

Before his eyes, Renée spoke once more.

"Would that not be possible?"

He had been so foolish.

Even while resolving to follow that light, even while resolving to protect her, he had become absorbed in his own circumstances and grown impatient again.

Feeling utterly ridiculous as those thoughts arose, Bera finally managed an answer.

"... Why wouldn't it be?"

"Oh, then you'll tell me?"

Her voice brightened.

For some reason, Bera could no longer control his expression. Feeling emotions force their way up from within, he parted his lips.

What followed was something like a confession, filled with the deeply guilty feelings he had hidden in his heart.

"... I felt that the light I wished to follow was too far away."