Chapter 54
“You’ve gotten used to it quickly, Your Grace.”
“That’s all thanks to Miss Rohela.”
He turned to me and smiled warmly. Even though a large parasol had been set up, his smile was so bright it felt like sunlight beating directly on my eyes.
I raised my hand to shield my eyes and frowned.
“The sunlight reflecting off the sand is too bright.”
“Is it?”
He tilted his head. I didn’t continue speaking and shrugged my shoulders. He lazily shifted his gaze.
When I first mentioned lying on the sand, he had hesitated, but now he seemed to have adapted quickly.
Since the idea of swimming at the beach was still foreign, Dorian and Lewin were wearing sailor tops with comfortable cotton pants. Lewin had rolled up all his sleeves and pant legs, but Dorian had not.
Still, the sailor collar looked fresh. The navy collar with two white stripes complemented his black hair perfectly.
‘I want to run my fingers through it… but I can’t, can I?’
Ugh. I turned my gaze away to stop myself from thinking such things. Lewin was enjoying himself but stayed in the shallow water, giggling without venturing further.
Suddenly, Lewin stopped abruptly. He began to examine the sand closely.
“Wow!”
He picked up a white, flat, round object from the sand. Even at a glance, it was about the size of a child’s palm.
Lewin ran toward us, holding it up.
“Look at this!”
“Careful, don’t trip. Come slowly.”
Even with my warning, his steps didn’t slow at all. When he reached us, Lewin held out the white disc he had just found.
A white disc with a flower pattern engraved in the center. I remembered that it was the skeleton of a sea urchin.
“Ah, this…”
“What is it?”
When I acted like I knew, Lewin’s eyes lit up, staring at me. Would he be shocked if I told him it was a bone? I closed my eyes for a moment as if thinking deeply, then opened them.
“This is a coin used by mermaids!”
“A coin?”
“Yes, a coin. I think a mermaid must have lost it.”
Lewin’s eyes widened, and he asked in surprise.
“Then will the mermaid come back for it?”
“Maybe. If you take good care of it, the mermaid might return.”
With that, Lewin carefully placed the sea urchin skeleton into his pocket. While I watched the scene fondly, Dorian asked again.
“…Is it okay to lie?”
Even saying this, he spoke in a low, gentle voice so his younger brother wouldn’t hear, like the sound of waves mixed with the wind.
I whispered back to Dorian in the same quiet tone.
“Why so grim? As punishment, you should read five fairy tales a day.”
He shut his eyes tightly and shook his head. Seeing moments like this, they really did resemble each other. I drew my legs close and laughed at him.
He groaned and said,
“I don’t really like mermaid stories.”
“Why not?”
“Because…”
He glanced around. By then, Lewin had run back to the shore.
If he gathers enough seashells, I could weave them into a necklace. As I idly thought this, Dorian continued.
“…Because they’re sad.”
“Oh.”
I covered my mouth and looked at Dorian. His cheeks were tinged with a faint red.
“You already knew the story?”
“Of course. I read fairy tales as a child too.”
He muttered slightly as he said this. He looked like a pouting child, and I reached out to gently stroke his hair.
“Really?”
The hair I had always thought looked soft from afar was surprisingly springy to the touch.
Good quality hair.
Strangely, he didn’t respond. When I looked away from his hair, I saw him frozen, unable to meet my gaze.
“Ah.”
Crazy, I’m blushing. I lowered my hand subtly, and Dorian slowly lowered his head.
“…Yes.”
Yes to what? I looked at him, bewildered. Then I remembered his mention of fairy tales and smoothly changed the topic.
“So, Dorian, what’s your favorite fairy tale?”
“A fairy tale?”
He pressed his chin thoughtfully. His bare hands, without gloves, were straight, smooth, and perfectly groomed.
While admiring the elegant lines of his hands, he began speaking.
“Do you know why Arturga calls the alchemy prodigy a ‘Golden Star’?”
“Because their eyes are golden?”
“No. Artur’s eyes were golden, yes, but not all the stars of Arturga had golden eyes.”
He shook his head lightly, then asked me,
“I think Lewin should hear this too. May I call him over?”
“What kind of fairy tale is this? Can I look forward to it?”
He smiled playfully, closing his eyes, and waved for Lewin.
“Lewin, come here for a moment.”
Lewin, who had been searching the sand, looked up at his older brother’s call and ran over like a puppy.
“Why?”
“I’m going to tell you a fun story.”
Lewin tilted his head. It seemed no fun stories had been told to him before.
He innocently yet bluntly asked,
“Brother?”
“Pfft!”
I quickly closed my mouth, but I couldn’t avoid Dorian’s disappointed look. He pulled Lewin into his arms and rested his chin gently on the boy’s head.
“Alright, I’ll tell you. Listen carefully.”
After a brief pause, Dorian closed his eyes and began.
“Long ago, before the empire was even founded, a star in the sky fell to the world.”
I rested my chin on my hand, watching Dorian’s profile. I hadn’t noticed it lately, but seeing him leisurely, he was undeniably handsome: the high nose, the masculine, angular jawline.
Fortunately, he didn’t notice my gaze.
“God, for the fallen star, gave it flowing blood and a body. The star quickly took the form of a child. It no longer shone from its body, but the starlight still sparkled in its eyes.”
I shifted my attention from Dorian’s appearance to the story he told.
A story of a star becoming human. Similar tales existed on Earth, I thought; perhaps this was a variation.
“God felt sorry for the fallen star and gave the child the ability to communicate with everything in the world.”
“Everything?”
“Yes, everything. Not just people, but the wind, fire, light, even the sea. Soon, the star was loved by everyone.”
Dorian gently stroked Lewin’s hair. The boy’s eyes shone brightly.
I thought for a moment that Lewin’s eyes held a star too.
“The star lived its life helping those who loved it. It ended the ongoing wars and created songs for the joyous people.”
The story Dorian told was unlike any I had heard before. He opened his eyes.
“But the star always longed for the sky. Eventually, it returned to the sky it so desired. Before returning, it gave its blood, fire, and water to two people it cherished.”
Blood, fire, water. The combination felt familiar.
“Why?”
“To care for people in its place. And that’s the end of the story.”
It was a surprisingly simple ending. I felt deflated. Dorian smiled at me, patting Lewin gently on the back.
“I want to go.”
Lewin, losing interest, wriggled free from Dorian’s arms and dashed back toward the shore. The sand bore his footprints wherever he ran.
“Is that the end?”
“That’s how this fairy tale ends. But elsewhere, more parts of the story have been passed down.”
“Orally passed down and practiced? So the ‘Golden Star’ in Arturga isn’t called that because the star in the story had talent in alchemy?”
“No. The star wasn’t related to alchemy at all.”
I looked at him, disappointed.
“Then why tell the story?”
“Though the star couldn’t do alchemy, someone who met it admired it so much that they developed alchemy.”
Admirer of a star developed alchemy, even though the star itself had nothing to do with it.
“…Why?”
“And that person—the first Arturga, Alfred—was the first to call it the Golden Star. While honoring the star, it also meant he was closest to it.”
Alfred, one of the three great alchemists and sage. Her alchemy profoundly influenced the world.
It’s said that the materials she discovered made up 20% of the current world, including rubber.
‘…Strange.’
The star couldn’t do alchemy, yet the title “Golden Star” was given to the best alchemist. Surely the name was in homage to the star’s talent.
Was there something like magic in this world…?
I suddenly looked up.
“Could the star use magic?”
How magical alchemy must have seemed to people of the past.
A chill ran through me as realization struck. I hugged myself against the sudden cold.
Whether I was right or not, Dorian smiled gently.
“It’s just a guess.”
