33 — The Undying Soul (3)

Knowing she had been wished for this much, regret stabbed Noi’s chest.

Fighting to smile so her face would not twist with pain, Noi answered Kardia.

“…I’m sorry. I left you alone for so long.”

Had he been so lonely that he wished to meet her even in dreams? After thinking a moment, Kardia gave a small shake of his head.

“…I wasn’t alone.”

Though it clearly hurt, wheezing in his throat, Kardia still tried desperately to speak with Noi.

“…In these hundred years, following your example, I took on disciples.”

Kardia shaped the words one by one with his dry lips.

“A lot happened… I was even sent out to a place like this backwater. But, just as you said… I waited with that old bastard Fengalow for the day the world would love me.”

Kardia’s rasping voice was so faint that if she relaxed for even an instant, she would miss it; it wavered, helpless.

Cradling that voice in her chest, tears blurred Noi’s sight. If she didn’t clamp her mouth shut, sobs would spill out and she would make a pathetic sound.

(Kardia has grown up.)

She had thought she knew. But she had only been paying attention to his appearance, his titles, the greatness of his magic.

Not that, not that.

Kardia had truly experienced so many things, learned so many defeats, touched so many people, and become an adult—by following the guidance of Noi.

“…Master.”

When Noi could say nothing, Kardia called to her in a small voice.

“I’m scared.”

“—It’s okay. It’s okay! I’m right here!”

Unable to hold back, she answered in a trembling voice. Tears flowed without end; she could not stop them.

Noi knew nothing of Kardia’s circumstances or his fear, not now. But if her disciple—if Kardia—cried that he was afraid, then removing that fear was what she wanted the master, the Noi, to do.

“…You’ll disappear anyway.”

“I won’t disappear!”

Noi grasped Kardia’s hand in both of hers.

Because Kardia thought she was a dream, he did not seem to take Noi’s words as true.

“—Master. Are you happy, over there in the afterlife? Did you marry that old bastard?”

Taken aback, Noi laughed. From the same mouth that had said he was scared, he asked something so silly—it was so like Kardia that it made her smile. From what he’d said earlier, “that old bastard” must have meant Fengalow.

“I didn’t.”

“Good.”

A laugh welled up in her for Fengalow too—what on earth had he done? Hearing Noi laugh, Kardia let out a breath of relief.

“Master.”

If not for the moonlight, the voice surely would have melted away; it was that delicate.

“The things you told me back then… I’m starting to understand them, little by little. …Master, please, be happy. I’m living… happily.”

Noi pressed a hand to her mouth and began to cry, her whole body shaking.

(A hundred years—one hundred years.)

No one knew Noi, save Kardia; those who spoke of her did so as if telling a fairy tale. So long, so long. In a time that felt like eternity.

“Let’s do something fun, Kardia.”

Those words she had said to the small boy whose shoulders had shaken in the city—

(Have you been trying to keep that promise the whole time?)

They said a person died when there was no one left to remember them.

(The mausoleum I saw at dawn—that must, without a doubt, be mine.)

For a hundred years, surely with no remains even found, even when there was no one left who knew Noi—still, Kardia must have gone there as he did, so often that the flowers never had time to wither.

(Ah, for a hundred years, I…)

(I was never dead. I was alive.)

Always, inside him. And always, within the bond he wove.

She could make no words. Tears flowed, and all her strength went to strangling her sobs.

So Noi wiped her tears and forced a smile.

Seeing Noi’s smile, Kardia exhaled in relief.

Noi’s body moved on its own. Her lips touched Kardia’s brow.

Kardia slowly narrowed his eyes. The corners of his eyes, warm and soft, colored with affection; with his bright red eyes he stared at Noi with all he had. And just like that, he drifted back to sleep.

Moonlight streamed in through the large window.

Gazing at the far-off stars, Noi thought of the road he had walked for a hundred years; his effort and resolve struck her, simply, to the core.

When Kardia woke, the room was hot like a steam bath.

He sat up, drenched in sweat, and a wet cloth slipped from his brow. Right beside him, Noi sat on the floor, her upper body slumped forward against the bed, sleeping. A water bucket sat at her side.

The curtains stirred, and birdsong drifted in through the open window.

With a flick of his arm Kardia closed the window, then activated the magical apparatus that regulated the room’s air.

He started, checking his clothes, but aside from his sash being a little looser, nothing had changed.

(…No sign I was undressed.)

Telling himself it was fine, Kardia looked at Noi.

She must have been nursing him all this time. Exhausted, asleep, Noi breathed with her small mouth slightly open.

He had a faint memory of when he collapsed.

It had truly been ages since the morning brightness had woken him. He had almost forgotten what that felt like.

He was surprised the curtains were open, and even more surprised that Noi wasn’t beside him—and he became unmoored, wondering if everything had been a long, gentle illusion he’d dreamed.

Seizing on Kardia’s shaken state, That Thing tried to wake.

Kardia stroked his own abdomen. Beneath his clothes was a hardness that could not be mistaken for human skin.

Noi wasn’t there—resonating with that impulse, against Kardia’s will That Thing tried to raise mana from within, and the mana blew out of control.

The mana that leaked unspun burst into sparks, and the mana trapped inside twisted. Perhaps it settled while he slept, because he had recovered enough to use magic as usual—but he had never imagined it would come to this.

(No… I came to the sky thinking if anything happened, it would be too late otherwise.)

Carrying a fear so great he could not even trust himself, Kardia crossed into the sky. Anywhere without people would do.

And yet he chose the sky over the ocean depths—perhaps because he wanted, even a little, to go to the side of the master who had ascended to the heavens.

Looking at Noi’s face, he saw tear tracks on her plump, soft cheeks.

(…She was crying.)

Realizing he had made her worry, Kardia gathered Noi up and laid her down beside him.

Then he gently stroked her cheek with his thumb. Her skin, soft like unbaked bread dough, yielded and changed shape beneath Kardia’s hard finger.

Kardia bit his lip.

(…It’s been a hundred years since I wanted to wipe someone’s tears.)

He felt pain more than comfort.

Kardia wasn’t used to having his heart moved so strongly. He had thought that was an emotion he had cut away from himself.

(That kind of thing… I decided I would never need it again…)

Everything precious left Kardia behind.

His parents, his master, that old bastard, the many disciples he had raised—they all went on ahead, leaving Kardia.

(But when I’m with you… I feel a hope that maybe I can still live as a mage.)

Noi Galenée, who insisted on calling Kardia a mage, was gone.

And yet, when he was with this small Noi, he felt he could remain the kind of mage he wished to be.

(…But still—)

Kardia stroked Noi’s cheek, unaware of how gentle his eyes were as he looked at her.

(Even so, I—)

White hair shone in the sunlight. Beneath the lids that opened lay peppermint eyes.

Sweeping away all sentiment, Kardia looked down at Noi with a chilled gaze.

(I decided—no matter what, I will kill you.)