“Hic. Pardon me. Then, let me take you to your room. There are few people here at the moment, so there are good rooms open.”
He slipped by them to head outside.
“Ooh, it’s cold!”
The cool air must have felt good to a body warmed by liquor. He spoke with good cheer, with Col and Myuri following after him as he walked off.
When the people working in the courtyard saw Reicher, they called out to him and waved, even the ones far away. Though he was drunk during the daytime, all evidence indicated he was a beloved priest.
Not to mention that, barring the Black-Mother, his prayers of safety were the only thing that offered the people solace when they anticipated a journey at sea.
“Well, to start where I left off…”
Reicher began to speak as he walked around, checking the dried fish hanging from branches instead of fruit in what must have originally been the vegetable garden.
“Like I was saying, huge uproars. And they don’t come back after leaving in a small boat. Sometimes they fall into the sea; other times it’s shipwrecks that drift away.”
There are those who expect a certain holiness in the severe northern seas, hemmed in by snow, permeated with cold and clear air. Reicher must have seen off so many people with that attitude in the past; he now shrugged his shoulders in defeat.
“Most of those nobles don’t know anything about this land…The closest are from Winfiel and Ploania. The farthest come all the way from countries in the south. At any rate, when those people who come burdened with responsibilities but wind up dying, we are always the ones regarded with suspicion.”
How had Hyland represented the people who controlled this land?
“I heard that pirates are the ones in charge of this area.”
Col’s comment made Reicher look back at him gloomily over his shoulder before sighing.
“I can’t really say much to that, because they are pirates, no matter how you look at it. But they’re also not pirates of any sort.”
Reicher continued as he fixed the knot in the string of one of the dried fish.
“They typically protect trading ships and watch to make sure real pirates don’t plunder fishing boats or ravage any of the islands. Well, it’s easy to understand if I say we’re responsible for how difficult they are to reason with through talking.”
To put it in more familiar words, they were a self-defense force.
“Without them, we would not be able to keep these wayward waters in line. Our resources are limited, so if everyone acted as they pleased, we soon wouldn’t be able to maintain our livelihoods. The threat of violence is like the hoop that keeps barrels together. Without it, we wouldn’t even be able to collect taxes from those who come to work here each season. Our land would be carved up by outsiders and soon vanish. They exist out of necessity.”
The crunching snow echoed beneath their feet. Every couple of steps, a puff of white appeared and hung by Reicher’s left shoulder, then disappeared into the air.
Col could tell by his posture that while the priest considered the pirates his ally, he was also resigned to their presence.
“But those who only hear about them through stories make a lot of noise, claiming Oh! The pirates killed folks from the south in secret because they don’t like them! Those who don’t know how truly terrifying the seas are here don’t heed the locals’ warnings, leading to accident after accident.”
As Reicher finished speaking, he stopped in front of a spectacularly large building.
“Here we are.”
The entrance was up several stone steps, likely as a way to keep the door from being snowed in.
The foundation of the lodging house was made of stone as well, but everything above was wood. Col had spent many winters sleeping on stone floors, but he had only been able to stand that until his healthy teenage years. Already past twenty, he was relieved to see he would not have to relive those days.
“Go down the hall and you’ll find the assistant priest who runs the house—you’ll get your sheets and blankets from him. He’ll also tell you what room you’ll be staying in. Feel free to leave a donation when you do.”
He smiled at them pointedly.
He then spoke again, maintaining his expression.
“An empty island is ideal for building a monastery on, but if people don’t live on those islands in this sea, then I think it’s best to consider them uninhabitable. They are too dangerous because the currents around them are too complicated or there are too many rocks just underneath the surface of the water. Well, you wouldn’t be able to tell by only looking. A lot like faith, isn’t it?”
Reicher smiled and bumped one of his shoes against Col’s, shaking the snow from it. Though Col could appreciate how unassuming the old priest acted, he could not find the heart to laugh along with the joke.
“And so, the people around these parts aren’t very welcoming to those who are clearly southern priests. Just sniffing around so much is enough of a nuisance, but then they wind up dying in accidents, which brings down suspicion that no one needs again. Of course, the people who interfere with trade by straining their relationships with the locals are just as much as a nuisance.”
Reicher was clearly telling them to behave themselves, keep their distance, stay for a few days, then go home.
A positive way of thinking about it was to take it as a kind warning from a resident of this sanctuary.
“I cannot, however, go home empty-handed.”
Col tried resisting, and the elderly priest suddenly shrugged in a drunken manner, giving up.
“Either take on a local as your guide, or if you’re on your own, then you must ask a local before doing anything. Especially if you plan to go out to sea.”
Reicher recited his advice, still standing in the doorway, facing them as they stood inside.
“That will keep you safe.”
Then, without any chance for them to respond, he shut the door on them.
After the distancing sound of crunching snow completely vanished, only silence remained.
Myuri readjusted the luggage on her back and looked toward Col.
“He doesn’t like us.”
Col looked down at her, and she was smiling.
“Travelers are always treated like this. There are few places that welcome them.”
“Really? But everyone has so much fun eating together in Nyohhira.”
Col adjusted his packs as well before he urged Myuri along as the two of them walked down the hall.
“Nyohhira is rather unusual. Most places in the world do not welcome outsiders. The ones who disrupt the common people’s quiet lives are often outsiders.”
Myuri did not seem to really understand straight away, but she would come to do so in time as they continued to travel.
“That is why we must go about our business quietly at our destinations, especially in places with few people.”
Myuri knit her brows and looked up at him with a frown, as though saying, “You’re lecturing me again?”
But this was not about the teachings of God or consideration for others. It was more about telling someone how to stay alive if they became lost deep in the mountain woods.
With Col silently staring back at her, she seemed to understand immediately.
Myuri made an appropriate expression and nodded, gulping.
He wanted her to take this moment to understand that traveling was not all fun and excitement and that there was nothing better than living peacefully at home.
While he thought about this, Myuri suddenly spoke with a grave expression.
“It’s the same as when the king pretends to be a commoner, right? I hear about that a lot in stories.”
“…”
Myuri grinned—It’s all right, I know.
He thought that she really did not understand at all, but what he did know very well was her optimism.
Their room was small, and the bed was just two wooden trunks pushed togethe
r with a blanket laid over them.
But a room was still better than the large rooms and storage areas on the other floors—the facility was definitely constructed as a base for merchants’ trade.
He could imagine that comfort was a secondary concern at a base made for commerce, so he was right to have donated when they borrowed the sheets. It was a time in which even sins could be forgiven if the appropriate amount of money was offered to the Church.
And since the two of them managed to borrow a good number of blankets, they would be able to sleep in warmth and comfort.
Then, they had to put lunch together after dropping off their belongings, so they went back outside soon after. They decided to see the miraculous remains that Yosef had mentioned, so they asked the soldier at the gate. It turned out they were close enough to reach the site on foot. It was also in the opposite direction of the port, so they decided to go there first.
However, the snow on the roads was deep, and the guard recommended they wear woven straw boots over their shoes. Just as Col thought about how kind he was, the guard proceeded to ask for money. It seemed he was angling to make some pocket money on the side, but it was not a bad price so Col properly paid. There was also the wisdom of his merchant benefactor to consider. It was important to gain the favor of anyone possible when visiting a place. No one could say who might be able to help on another day.
There was no proper road leading to the miraculous ruins, so they traveled along the river and worked their way upstream. As they walked on what would be a field in the summer but was currently covered in snow, it did not take long before Col could feel himself sweating. His traveling shoes were already heavy, but he wore straw coverings over them. He had never found it so difficult to walk. But without the covering, the inside of his shoes would have become soaked; then, if he was lucky, his feet would be swollen from the chill, and if not, frostbite would settle in. The straw boots were indispensable during Nyohhira’s winter as well.
He was soon short of breath, but Myuri kept pushing forward with a bounce in her step, like a snow hare.
“Hurry up, Brother!”
Unlike the mountains, there were no cornices or streams on the island and Col was not worried they would lose their way since they walked along the river, but he grew irritated thinking about the path back. He wished they had brought a sled of some sort, but he shook his head, reminding himself they could not indulge themselves in luxury.
“Come on already, Brother!!”
Myuri had gotten so far ahead he could no longer make out her expression when she impatiently turned back to him and yelled.
Though the island looked small from the ship, with just a mountain and its foothills, Col was coming to realize that it was more than large enough for wide, flat fields. In summer, he could imagine how the endless snowfields became grass, producing a year’s worth of feed for the livestock.
A forest finally came into view, lying at the foot of the mountain. The miraculous ruins were apparently at the end of the road in the forest.
“You’re too fast!”
That was all he managed to say. A puff of white rose from where Myuri stood, perhaps because she sighed. She, of course, would not wait for him and rushed ahead.
But he did not hold a grudge against her apparent heartlessness. Instead, he was impressed with her youth and the strength to forge a path forward on her own. He thought about how he would be able to see this again when she got married, and he considered it a rehearsal.
He smiled dryly and continued to put one foot in front of the other.
When Col finally caught up to her footprints, he also reached the entrance to the forest. Myuri was sitting on a large, bulky rock and eating a large icicle. There were several hanging from a nearby tree, resembling so many spears.
He could tell she had waited quite a while because there were three round snow sculptures at her feet, some large enough to have needed an armful of snow. She had even given them faces made out of twigs.
“Brother, you almost remind me of Father.”
She was implying that he had no strength, but he did not even have the energy to reply to her that she had too much. His shoulders heaved, and Myuri watched him in exasperation before breaking the icicle in two and handing him a piece.
“Don’t eat too much or you’ll get cold.”
Even though Col was usually the one to caution her, it was Myuri that did so to him.
And it did not seem that Myuri had simply walked in a random direction, as she sat at the mouth of the road leading up to the mountain. Under the evergreens, whose needles never fell even in winter, there was a snowy path, hardened by footfalls.
He expected nothing less from a girl with wolf’s blood, raised in the mountains.
“But the ground here is kind of weird. Are all islands like this?”
The hardened snow did not seem like it was on a steep incline uphill, instead forming more of a gentle slope. Myuri had raised her question as Col followed after her, managing to keep up this time.
“What do you mean by weird?”
“That river’s weird, too.”
She stopped, turned back, and pointed. There was no undergrowth in this season, and they could see quite far even from the forest.
There were the footsteps they had left behind and the nearby river.
He wondered what was strange about it, then suddenly realized.
“…The color of the river is the same as the sea.”
Drawn in the snowy fields, there was a long, thin, dark-blue line.
“Yeah. That’s probably not a river but the sea.”
“The sea? But…”
They had come rather far inland from the mouth of the river. It could hardly be called an inlet, nor was it a canal. He could only think of it as a river when he saw how it snaked along.
But a river should have been much more active. The water was silent in the snowy fields.
“It certainly does look like a dead, blue snake, doesn’t it?”
As though it had stopped what it was doing and just lay there.
“And look.”
Myuri returned her gaze to the forest and pointed off to the side ahead of them.
“It ends there.”
The river ended suddenly. The blue water from the sea turned green at the water’s edge, washing the white snow. It was not pouring in, nor was it flowing.
“Maybe it was a river a long time ago,” he said, and Myuri looked back at him.
“Huh?”
She looked as though she had seen a mountain move.
“Is it that unusual? Mountains fall, forests dry up; it’s not odd for a river to dry up and die. Even more spectacular things happen regularly in your adventure stories, don’t they?”
Myuri’s face went red as she pursed her lips.
“…I—I don’t think what happens in books are real! You’re teasing me, right?”
This girl had only spent ten-odd years on this earth.
She had been raised in a hot spring village that seemed to stand on the boundary between dreams and reality, which muddled her perception of things even more.
“Even scenery can change a great deal with the passage of time. There are things such as cataclysms, which can be nothing but punishment from God, and even small things can trigger them. This world is not eternal. Eternity is reserved for God’s kingdom in heaven.”
Almost everything in this world was like a house of cards, destined to fall someday. That was why he wished to support people amid such uncertainty and cruelty.
He wished he could tell Myuri more about this, but she likely would not listen.
At least that was what he thought, but she was silent and wore a rather grave expression on her face.
Perhaps to her, the rivers and mountains would always and forever be as they were. Though she had never met a dragon or a wizard, the rivers and mountains had always been by her side.
“You learned something today.”
He ap
proached her and placed his hand on her head.
“Everything fades with time. Dust will return to dust, ashes to ashes. That is why we must spend the time that God has given us fruitfully.”
He added that was why sleeping in was unreasonable, and she finally huffed, like her normal self.
“You always lecture me!”
“I wish I did not have to.”
“Sheesh!”
Though she was offended, her gaze returned to the end of the river and her cheeks also quickly deflated.
Then, she spoke, still facing away from him.
“But Mother said the same thing. I guess it’s true.”
He gulped unwittingly.
Myuri’s mother was a wolf and wheat spirit who either lived for hundreds of years or perhaps never aged—a being known as the wisewolf.
That was why, even though the wisewolf Holo traveled with a merchant she met in a village and fell deeply in love with him, she continually hesitated to cross that one line. Her partner was human, and his life would vanish in the blink of an eye. The passage of time could not be stopped.
But they rejected the natural laws of the world to grasp the happiness before them. Though it was destined to slip from their hands like sand, they believed their memories of taking hold of it would last forever.
How sad and how painful it must be.
And there was a chance that Myuri, blood child of Holo, would share the same fate.
Myuri was not human.
Col had vowed that he would always be her friend, but there were some things he could do nothing about.
Like her father Lawrence who, no matter how hard he worked, would one day without a doubt no longer be able to lift up and embrace his eternally young wife, no one could win against destiny.
“That’s why I…”
Myuri suddenly looked back at him, smiling.
“Like Mother taught me to do, I’m living every day to the fullest that I can.”
“Myuri…”
Her innocent smile was strength itself. She had the courage to keep walking forward, even if the road ahead of her was dark.
It could have been attributed to youthful ignorance, but it was more probably that she chose to live this way. Hers was a smile that told him he could believe that.
Wolf & Parchment, Volume 2 Page 10