Lyset (1)

The old woman’s daily life changed drastically.

After days spent holding baby Lyset—who endlessly cycled between eating and sleeping—the old woman finally struggled down to the village to ask for help.

“Why, isn’t that Grandma Goldense?”

“And why is she holding a baby?”

While the villagers stared in shock, Goldense calmly lifted the child high from her arms.

“This is my granddaughter Lyset. She came from a cliffside cave in Yotun Mountain.”

“From a cave, you say?”

“Yes, from a cave.”

As the villagers gathered, Goldense told them of the woman who died in difficult childbirth inside the cave, and of how she barely managed to take in Lyset.

But she left out how a blue-glowing reindeer came to carry her, or how she saw a silver wolf and a brown bear within. Even if she told them, no one would believe her—worse, if anyone repeated it to a priest from the Assembly Hall, it would spell disaster. Goldense was wise enough to keep such discernment.

“Then, what will you do with this baby, Grandma Goldense?”

“She’s my granddaughter. I’ll raise her. That’s why I came down to the village. Please, lend me some help.”

As if aware of their murmurs, the baby opened her eyes and looked around at them with unfocused gaze.

With jet-black newborn hair, eyes as deep and blue as Lake Orde, a face white as the snow on Yotun Mountain’s peaks, and cheeks flushed like strawberries…

All the villagers gasped in admiration.

“To think such a beautiful, adorable baby exists—surely the Lord has granted great grace to Grandma Goldense.”

“No, no—what’s fortunate is that this baby met Grandma Goldense in that cave. It’s the baby who received grace.”

Just then, the village priest, noticing the commotion, approached.

“What’s happening here?”

“Father, here… Grandma Goldense says she took in a baby from a dying woman in a cave.”

“Such a sorrowful thing… May the Lord comfort that soul. Let me see the baby.”

As the priest held the baby, her once-wandering unfocused eyes suddenly fixed, looking straight at him.

“Ohh… So her eyes open clearly now.”

The priest and the villagers laughed.

“…!!!”

But in that instant, the priest felt a chill down his spine. In those unfathomably deep blue eyes, he sensed a power far beyond imagination.

Startled, the priest nearly dropped her, but a nearby woman swiftly caught the baby and handed her back to Goldense.

“M-my apologies. I’m clumsy at holding infants…”

“Not at all, Father, it’s only natural for you. Hohoho.”

The villagers laughed, and the priest forced an awkward laugh as well.

“When she’s a little older, we’ll hold an infant baptism. I’ll pray that she grows up healthy.”

“Thank you.”

After the priest left, the villagers began discussing how to help Goldense. Some even suggested leaving the baby at the Assembly Hall to be raised, but Goldense flatly refused.

“This child came to me by Ol…”

She almost said “Olrun”, but quickly shut her mouth. A name she hadn’t uttered—or even believed in—for decades had nearly slipped out in front of the villagers.

“Ahem! This child came to me by the Lord’s will. I’ll raise her myself—I’ve already named her Lyset.”

At Goldense’s stubborn insistence, the villagers reluctantly nodded.

One woman brought baby clothes from her home. Others offered finely ground oats and food. Among them was an old wooden toy, its surface carved with images of gods battling dragons and letters of the gods—yet everyone pretended not to notice.

“Svald! Take this jar to Grandma Goldense’s house. From now on, you’ll go there once every three days.”

Henriksen, the village head who kept the most goats, entrusted a large clay jar full of goat’s milk to his freckled son.

“If you feel weak, it would be good to drink some of this as well.”

Ibsen the woodcutter handed her a bottle of mead. Svald took it in her stead.

“Thank you, everyone. Baby Lyset is my granddaughter, yes, but she’ll also be the pride of our village. So please, treat her kindly.”

“Hahaha, come down to the village often and take what you need. We’ll all love her as if she were our own daughter.”

“Thank you kindly.”

Goldense thanked everyone, then carried Lyset up toward her house on the hill. Behind her, Svald and three other village men followed, their arms full of the gifts given to her.

As time passed, Goldense laid Lyset in the cradle Ibsen had carved, stroking her soft hair.

“Lyset, you’re growing so beautifully. Now it’s time for you to hear some old tales.”

“Ma… Pa! Mmm… Ah!”

As Lyset babbled and looked at her, Goldense told her the tales she had once grown up with—“The House Mouse and the Forest Mouse,” “Fiddler Per,” and the like.

Sometimes she would slip in stories of the ancient ancestors and gods. Whenever she did, Lyset’s eyes began to shine.

“Long ago, in the land of the gods, Asgard, a great war was fought. Heimdall blew the Gjallarhorn, and gods, giants, and dragons clashed in strength. Lightning flashed again and again, and waves taller than Yotun Mountain swallowed Asgard time after time.”

“Ahh…! Ma!”

“But in the end, the gods were defeated. Still, it was Olrun who slew the most giants and dragons. With his loyal warriors and three heralds, he came down from Asgard to Midgard and settled in this northern land, Nordenheim.”

“Ma…! Ha!”

Lyset’s blue eyes gleamed as if asking for more. Goldense laughed at the sight.

“So you like this story, do you? But if you repeat it anywhere else, it could cause great trouble.”

“Pa… Pa!”

“And so, Olrun and his daughter Manafreya built their nation here, through priestesses who passed down the tales of warriors’ descendants and gods. A nation full of brave, wise people who loved this great nature and lived honestly…”

“Ah… Ma!”

“But false faith devoured the world, and even Nordenheim was swallowed. So Olrun had a sage inscribe a prophecy on a stone tablet, to warn all of Midgard. That prophetic tablet lay upon the summit of Yotun Mountain.”

“Ah…”

Goldense slowly rocked the cradle.

“It’s just an old tale, child. A story passed down from this land for ages. Perhaps those three heralds of the gods I thought I saw the day I first met you were nothing more than illusions.”

“Krrrr…”

Lyset shook her head with laughter, as if to say “No, that’s not it.” She was so adorable that Goldense pressed her forehead against hers, rubbing cheeks.

“All right, I understand. I must have truly seen it. So you must grow up beautiful and healthy.”

Lyset stopped babbling and slowly drifted into sleep.

Goldense smiled as she pulled a blanket over her.

With the help of many, Lyset grew more and more each day.

This little child, who had entered her life and the villagers’ lives, was already making her presence deeply felt.

Seven years later.

Now eight years old, Lyset chased chicks around the yard, while behind her, Goldense had grown noticeably older.

Even when she tried to catch them, Lyset darted so quickly that she always slipped away. Watching her adorable movements, Goldense’s heart swelled with pride.

“Lyset… If you chase them too much, the chicks might come to dislike you.”

“Grandmother! Grandmother!”

As if to say “don’t worry”, Lyset sat quietly in the yard and held out her hands. Astonishingly, the chicks and hens gathered around her.

She gently picked up a chick, kissed it softly, then set it down.

“You’re a child who loves everything in nature… Like the daughter of the moon in the night sky.”

“I love nature—the nature Olrun rules.”

Lyset whispered slowly, as if choosing her words. Her black hair and deep, deep blue eyes were beautiful.

It was then.

They sensed someone coming up from below.

“Lyset, it seems someone is coming.”

Lyset’s gaze turned downward. The hens and chicks scurried into the coop.

The ones approaching were a priest and two novice priests, walking up the path between the fields.

“Glory to the Lord.”

“…Glory.”

Goldense bowed her head and traced the Sign of the Cross, deliberately omitting the first words.

The priest smiled warmly, looking at Lyset.

“Hello, Lyset. If you greet me by saying ‘Glory to the Lord,’ not only I, but the Lord Himself will be very pleased.”

“……”

Lyset only answered with a bright smile, then darted into the shed beside the house.

“Please, come in, Fathers.”

Goldense welcomed them inside.

After making the Sign of the Cross, the priest entered and swept the modest interior with a sharp gaze: the crucifix on the wall, the holy image above the stove, and the scripture set on the window frame…

Satisfied, the priest smiled and sat at the table. With trembling hands, Goldense served tea brewed from berries.

“Let us offer a blessing for this house…”

They all sat around the table and folded their hands.

After a short blessing, as they sipped their tea, the priest carefully spoke.

“Sister Goldense, I’ve been troubled these past years, as you haven’t attended the Assembly’s services.”

Goldense knew this would bring them to her sooner or later. Today was simply that day. She had long prepared her many excuses.

“As you can see, my strength is failing. My legs trouble me most of all. I boil mistletoe and birch bark for tea, but it doesn’t ease easily.”

“Oh my! Boil Nordelweiss roots and drink it, and mash some to place on your knees. It works wonders.”

Hearing the priest’s remedy, Goldense gave a bitter smile.

She had lived more than twice as long as this priest.

Having lived all her life in Songdal Village, she already knew the effects of nearly every herb, tree, and fruit that grew here. The priest’s remedy was something she had been practicing for years.

“Thank you. I’ll do that.”

“I came up here worried, but to see you still holding firm in your faith is truly a relief.”

“But of course. On that matter, you need not worry…”

“It must be hard indeed to go from here to the Assembly Hall. Would it be all right if we visited sometimes, to hold a small household service here and help strengthen Sister Goldense’s faith?”

“Of course. That would be a blessing.”

“And there is one more thing I must say…”

Goldense tilted her head.

The priest passed the words to the younger ones. One, who looked slightly older, chose his words carefully before speaking with difficulty.

“We’re concerned about the future of your granddaughter Lyset… This year as well, the Duchy plans to take about twenty young girls into the inner city, to raise them as Holy Sisters. They’ll be given much support, education, warm meals, and safe lodging.”

Goldense’s expression stiffened.

The priest added the decisive blow to the youth’s words.

“We intend to bring Lyset into the Duchy’s inner city. To the Grand Cathedral of Nastrand, as a Holy Sister…so she may be reborn as a daughter of the Lord.”

“Ah…”