CHAPTER 99…………………………….
Come to think of it, my voice is back to normal, and my fever’s gone too!
Aslan was convinced that while he was asleep, time had passed and he had become an adult.
But there was one problem.
“Mom must be really worried about me, right?!”
I have to go home right now!
The moment he thought that, his vision flashed. The pitch-black darkness vanished, and he saw the ceiling of an unfamiliar room.
“Where is this…?”
Aslan narrowed his eyes and stared at the ceiling.
It looked unfamiliar, but not completely unfamiliar either…
As he tried to recall, Aslan suddenly remembered where he’d seen that ceiling before.
‘This is Ayla’s room.’
Why am I in Ayla’s room? He blinked blankly, and then a familiar voice came from beside the bed.
“You’re awake? You wouldn’t wake up no matter how long I tried.”
“…Mister?”
Even though it was a face he saw often, Aslan wasn’t sure — because Lloyd’s expression was so different.
The warm, gentle face he always showed Aslan was gone; instead, he looked grim and shadowed.
He’d sometimes been unreliable, but never this stiff or somber.
Usually, he was the teasing yet dependable, handsome neighbor.
‘Is it because of the clothes?’
From head to toe, Lloyd’s clothes were entirely black.
But it didn’t seem to be just the clothes.
Something had happened. Before Aslan could ask, Lloyd stood up and straightened his outfit.
“Get ready, Liona. It’s time to go.”
Aslan blinked in confusion at the name he’d just heard.
“Mister, what are you talking about? I’m Aslan.”
How could he get his name wrong?
It was the precious name his mother gave him.
As he puffed his cheeks without realizing it, Lloyd muttered,
“…Still acting strange on the anniversary, I see. This time you’ve even started acting like a child.”
Of course I act like a child — I am a child.
He was about to retort, but when he saw his reflection in the mirror across the bed, he froze.
‘Oh, right. I’m an adult now.’
Then maybe I do look weird?
Still, Minerva would probably like it.
Anyway, where was Minerva, and why was Lloyd the one waking him up?
Wait — Lloyd just said something about today being some kind of day.
“What’s an anniversary?”
Aslan tilted his head and asked.
At that, Lloyd’s eyes flickered with shock — as if he’d just seen a ghost.
But after a moment of silence, he muttered, “Right… ten years ago, it was just like this…” and then explained patiently,
“It’s the day your mother passed away, Liona.”
“…Mom… died?”
This time, Aslan was the one who froze.
Minerva… dead?
Was it because of the fire in the Thousand-Year Forest?
Aslan shot up, desperately denying Lloyd’s words.
“N-no! She was just patting my head earlier, and—!”
“You must have been dreaming. I understand your pain. But you can’t do this every year. We swore to take revenge, remember?”
“N-no… Mom wouldn’t leave Aslan behind…”
Aslan’s eyes wavered aimlessly.
Lloyd gently patted the boy’s trembling shoulders.
“…Calm yourself and come out when you’re ready.”
“….”
After that, Aslan couldn’t remember what happened.
When he came to, he was wearing black mourning clothes, standing in the Thousand-Year Forest.
Even though he was seeing the towering trees for the first time, they didn’t feel unfamiliar.
Following behind Lloyd, Aslan walked down a familiar path.
By the lakeside deep within the forest stood a white stone tablet.
“We’ve come again this year, Your Highness. With Liona, as always. You must have been lonely this past year.”
Lloyd spoke softly to the stone.
Why didn’t Ayla come too? Aslan wanted to ask, but Lloyd was solemnly laying a bouquet of white chrysanthemums before the grave.
He shouldn’t interrupt.
The fresh petals fluttered gently in the breeze.
The broad back that had always seemed so strong looked terribly lonely now.
Without thinking, Aslan reached out and patted his back.
Then he, too, laid his own white chrysanthemum before the stone.
Even though he didn’t know any rituals, his body moved on its own.
The two of them stood silently before the grave, the wind rustling softly around them.
‘The letters…’
Aslan’s gaze dropped to the stone tablet.
Words were carved into it.
He traced the engraved letters with his eyes.
‘Mi… ne… rva…’
It really was Minerva’s name.
He had never seen a grave before, but he somehow knew — Minerva’s body rested beneath this stone.
“I want to go to the academy!”
A memory resurfaced.
Back then, Aslan had been pestering Minerva again about wanting to attend the academy.
But unlike his memory, in this recollection, he looked a bit older, and Minerva was calmer.
He had always expected to be refused, but on his seventh birthday, she said yes.
“Do you really want to go that badly?”
“Yeah, I do!”
“…Alright. Then I’ll talk to them.”
“Really?!”
That day, he had been so happy he literally jumped for joy.
But Minerva, who said she’d go register his admission, never came back.
This must definitely be a dream.
But if it’s a dream, why does remembering her death hurt so much?
Seeing Aslan’s distress, Lloyd gripped his shoulders again.
“Liona. In place of the late Princess, I’ll protect you until the end.”
“…Ugh, not that again. Who’s protecting who, anyway?”
Tears that had been welling up paused for a moment as Aslan let out a reflexive laugh.
Then he froze.
‘Wait. I’ve never heard that line before.’
But his mouth had responded automatically, as if it was a familiar exchange.
For some reason, Lloyd’s eyes welled up at those words. He lowered his head and quietly shed dry tears.
Aslan looked around blankly.
‘Something’s off. Everything’s off.’
This Lloyd didn’t smile like the one he knew.
There were memories he didn’t recognize.
Even his name was different.
It felt like he wasn’t himself anymore.
But there was one thing he was sure of.
‘This is a nightmare.’
Aslan realized this was a dream — a bad one.
Because there was no way Minerva would die and leave him behind.
Thank goodness. It’s just a dream.
He let out a small sigh of relief.
“Now how do I get back?”
Left alone, Aslan sat beside Minerva’s grave, puffing his cheeks and resting his chin on his hand.
Lloyd had left first, saying he had things to think about.
He’d looked worried but said he’d wait from afar, given the nature of the day.
‘My last memory was painful… Mom must be worried sick. I need to wake up soon and show her I’m okay so she can smile again.’
But he had no idea how to do that.
‘Should I make a wish?’
Aslan’s wishes usually came true —
to become human, for Mom not to get sick, for everyone to stay healthy.
‘There’s no moon tonight, but…’
Even on cloudy, moonless nights, his wishes had come true before.
Might as well try.
Aslan pressed his hands together and made a wish once more.
‘Please send me back to where Mom is!’
Nothing happened.
His spirits deflated instantly.
“Tch.”
He almost kicked the dirt in frustration, but then remembered — this was Minerva’s grave.
Even if it was just a dream, he had to treat it with respect.
‘Not that I’ll ever see Mom’s grave for real.’
He didn’t want to, either.
And he didn’t want Minerva to ever see his, if it came to that.
Someone always has to go first — that’s the way of life.
Just as Aslan sighed deeply—
He suddenly lifted his head.
He’d heard something rustling through the grass.
“Oh my. To meet here of all places — on Minerva’s memorial day, no less.”
A gentle voice approached, along with soft footsteps.
A beautiful woman with hair like black silk appeared, her presence almost otherworldly.
She smiled warmly at Aslan.
“It’s been a while, Liona. Ah, though I suppose we did meet at the palace not long ago, didn’t we?”
She spoke as if she knew him well.
But Aslan had no memory of her at all.
So he looked at her warily and asked,
“…Who are you?”
“Hm? Surely you haven’t forgotten my face already. Normally, this is when you’d be scolding me for sneaking in here, isn’t it?”
She smiled faintly, tilting her head.
“There’s no way you’ve forgotten me that quickly…”
Her eyes swept over him carefully.
Then she gave a knowing laugh and sighed.
“Ahh… I see now…”
