༺ Eyes of a Dragon and the Human Heart (1) ༻
Fragments of memories emerged like splintered shards. They were memories of a particular man bathed in a brilliant white light.
There were no flowers blooming in the fields. It was a desolate spring.
The western coast of the continent had many desert zones, a consequence of the scant rainfall caused by the perennial ocean currents.
Yet, when spring eventually came, rain clouds, propelled by the robust western winds, would sprinkle a fleeting shower, making it the only time one could glimpse at flowers in the west.
Yet, in the man’s memory, even with the arrival of spring, the west remained persistently barren.
Neigghhh, a melancholic whinny of a horse echoed through the tense camp. Tents pitched in every direction testified to the transformation of this place into a battleground.
Silently, the man dismounted. The soldiers he passed had faces etched with exhaustion and defeat.
The occasional remarks heard were nothing more than taunts similar to lamentations.
“Aren’t they crows?”
“Hey, shush… keep it down. They’re not the sort we commoners can afford to casually insult.”
He had grown accustomed to such treatment.
One of the followers trailing behind the man wanted to step forward in indignation, but the man raised a hand to stop him.
That gesture alone sufficed.
The soldiers, who had been mocking and sneering at the man, flinched at his action, hastily clearing a path. The grinding of teeth could be heard from all the way behind, yet the man remained silent, his lips never parting to utter a word.
He continued on until he stood before an unusually extravagant tent.
The immaculate white tent seemed out of place against the desert backdrop. It had intricate patterns of gold thread embroidered on it.
It was the symbol of the Imperial Family.
The man gazed solemnly at the insignia in the shape of a dragon head, then quietly stepped forward into the tent.
The knights guarding its perimeter did not hinder him in the slightest. It was as if he was allowed to enter the tent without permission.
Within the tent, numerous documents fluttered about.
It seemed as though dozens of white birds were flapping their wings. Amidst the swirling sheets, a woman came into view.
Her face wasn’t clear. But the instant she turned her head, the man’s knees instinctively bent. He was about to speak when her playful voice made him pause.
“…Did you enjoy your honeymoon?”
For a moment, the man hesitated.
In the end, instead of the greeting he had prepared, he replied with a voice tinged with sighs.
“She and I aren’t in that kind of relationship.”
“But soon, you will be, it seems, according to the rumours.”
Snap! With a snap of her fingers, the drifting papers neatly arranged themselves on the desk. She reclined in her chair, arms crossed.
Her mischievous smile was striking. The man, visibly uneasy, averted his gaze.
“Heh…Quite amusing, isn’t it? Rumours about the Great Witch’s disciple spreading everywhere…”
“Strictly speaking, I’m not her disciple. And most of those rumours aren’t true.”
“I know. I’m the one spreading some of them, after all.”
At that, the man’s expression almost crumbled. As he gazed blankly at the woman, she rose, her smile inscrutable.
Then, she lightly tapped the kneeling man on the shoulder and said.
“Try not to make it so obvious, okay? I can get quite jealous.”
“Now, shall we go?”
Following her suggestion, he reluctantly took her hand.
The afternoon sun was scorching, its blistering heat baking the ground. Despite the oppressive warmth, the breaths of the man and woman remained remarkably calm.
They stood facing the battlefield.
The man’s movements briefly stiffened. His indifferent eyes stared beyond the horizon.
“…What do you think?”
At the woman’s inquiry, the man’s lips parted and closed again.
His face turned pale. The shadow of a large beast positioned far in the distance was distinctly visible.
Its massive form appeared to expand and contract with each breath. Given its size, it was a monster spanning at least several tens of metres.
“Not long ago, I managed to restrain its movements by sacrificing a holy relic held by the Imperial Family. It should remain like that for a month, at least.”
“…How long?”
His hesitant question was met with a puzzled look from the woman.
“How long can we hold out? If that monster breaks free.”
Fear was evident in his voice; a fear anyone would understand.
Anyone who saw that shadow stretching across the horizon would.
Only the woman made a nonchalant hum, trying her best to appear nonchalant.
“We can’t hold out.”
It was a plain and direct response.
That made the despair all the more tangible. He clenched his jaw firmly.
“Who would’ve thought my eyes would be of such value? To be able to summon such a terrifying mythical existence…”
Inadvertently, the man glanced at the woman, who wore a bitter smile.
Her eyes were closed, and perhaps they might never open again.
“Sir, we’re running out of time.”
There was no need to specify who the ‘we’ ‘ referred to.
The answer was painfully evident, anyway.
Time was running out for everyone. For humanity as a whole, time was hurtling toward its inevitable conclusion.
It was only then that the ever-composed woman’s lips began to quiver.
“…Delphirem is coming.”
The man remained silent, his gaze fixed on the shadow beyond the horizon.
As the sun descended, it cast a shadow over the man’s golden eyes.
His gaze was bleak.
And once again, the world seemed to crumble around him.
Soon after, a rasping breath broke through the haze that clouded my consciousness.
It was the sound of my own laboured breathing. My hands, trembling from an intense thirst, fumbled as they searched the tabletop beside me.
I felt the familiar weight of something. Without hesitation, I unscrewed the cap of the canteen and gulped down the water.
Gradually, I returned to my senses. The surroundings were somewhat familiar now.
An overturned calendar and an old-fashioned envelope.
Muttering a curse under my breath, I carefully examined the envelope.
It was of a finer quality than any I had received until now. With trembling hands, I broke the seal.
My eyes began to skim the lines of text.
—-
To. My Beloved, Ian Percus,
At a time when I should be promising a happy future, pardon this poor lover for speaking of the past.
Tonight, with the moon shining so brightly, I find myself missing you deeply. Such feelings have compelled me to write, setting aside the childish embarrassment of our youth.
Countless memories are surging through my mind like waves crashing against the shore. That day has become a pivotal moment in my life, but I fear it might remain an unpleasant memory for you.
Once more, I deeply apologise for the painful memories you had to endure.
How can I dare claim to understand the feelings you had, bearing misunderstandings and pain for everyone’s sake? Yet, since that day, not a single day passed when I didn’t regret what happened.
Especially after realising that you did it all for me.
The emotions that sprouted that day tormented me. The warmth of affection, which I experienced for the very first time, seemed to melt my heart, making it ache with pain.
Truth be told, I cried every night.
I wondered if perhaps our first encounter could have been better.
First love is such a terrifying emotion. Every woman by your side seemed like a vixen, and though I had so much to say, guilt rendered me silent.
It was all so new to me.
Since the day the demonic beasts attacked our procession, my mind was in a daze. I even fell into the trap of the Dark Priest.
Yet, in that final moment when you entered that tunnel, colours finally bloomed in my life.
In your arms that day, I had a single thought. I must atone to this man for the rest of my days.
And so, I’ve been learning to cook for a while now.
It may be a bit embarrassing, but if we were to marry, we might need to relocate frequently. There might even be times when we’ll be without any servants.
To serve one’s husband is both a wife’s duty and authority. Above all, I want you to be happy.
While they say love completes half of one’s life, I wonder why you feel like my entire life.
The night has grown deep. There’s so much more I wish to write, but I feel it’s time to lay my pen to rest.
Thank you, once again, for protecting my eyes.
And I love you more than anyone else, Ian.
With fervent hopes of meeting you tomorrow as well, I shall end my letter here.
P.S. 1: Recently, there have been rumours circulating about a personnel assignment to the western part of the continent. However, not all of these rumours are true. While she does irritate me at times, I genuinely believe she is most suited to guard Arancourt based on facts alone. This isn’t out of jealousy. Absolutely not.
P.S. 2: Recently, an emissary has been dispatched from the Holy Nation, and I’m somewhat concerned. Ian, you are a pillar of the Empire, and the other party is a high-ranking official of the Holy Nation. You could be suspected of collaborating with a foreign nation. Once again, this is not out of jealousy. Not at all.
From. The woman who lies awake thinking of you and the one who loves you the most.
On the first day of the Month of Cane, Imperial Year 571.
—-
After reading the letter in silence for a while, I released a deep sigh.
It was a letter filled with words I couldn’t fully grasp.
A procession? An attack from the demonic beasts? And a Dark Priest?
Also, what did she mean by ‘eyes’? As I firmly pressed my temples, a fleeting recollection of the ‘eyes’ from the dream flitted through my mind.
I hastily turned the letter over, examining its back.
I had a hunch, and sure enough, there was something there.
Written in a script distinct from the rest of the letter were the words:
Staring at that phrase, I sighed once more and put the letter into my pocket.
First, I needed to make sense of the perplexing parts.
She wanted to apologise for the ‘painful memory’ I endured?
The narrative didn’t make sense at all. For now, I got up to evaluate the situation.
Then, suddenly, I spotted a sheet of paper that had slipped through the gap beneath the door.
It was folded in half. I strode over and absentmindedly picked it up.
And the moment I unfurled it…
Whoosh! Flames erupted. Startled, I promptly tossed the paper away and staggered back.
Although it was momentary, the fire was incredibly strong. Had I been even slightly late, I would have suffered burns.
Calling it just a prank felt rather flimsy.
“Which crazy fucker…!”
Cursing under my breath, I stared down at the paper, heat still emanating from it and faint tendrils of smoke spiralling upwards.
Emerging from the tiny flames, ashen words were etched onto it.
It was a brief sentence, barely a line of characters.
Yet, reading its content left me rooted to the spot.
I fell silent for a moment. Perhaps it would be more apt to say that my mind went utterly blank.
And moments later, my hand involuntarily slapped against my forehead.
Could it be… a matter of treason this time?
“What the hell have I done…?”
The future ahead already seemed grim.
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