chapter 14
“Why?”
At Hern’s question, the child pressed gently on Sion’s paws and turned their head.
With a sullen, stubborn look, the child stayed silent for a long while.
Hern, tidying his things and folding the blanket neatly, kneeled quietly at a respectful distance, giving the child space.
“Father… he forgot me, didn’t he?”
After a long pause, the child asked cautiously, their small voice filled with hesitation.
“…I don’t think he wanted to,” Hern said. He chose not to defend Alias outright, instead acknowledging the child’s feelings at face value.
No matter the reason, the result was clear: the one the child served had forgotten them, and the child had waited. That had surely left a wound.
“Yeah. I know.”
The child brushed their hand over Sion’s back as the little one munched on a sandwich with cheerful chomps.
Crouched down, chin resting on their knees, the child fell silent again.
“Grandfather.”
Hern smiled awkwardly at the address but nodded in acknowledgment.
“Yes.”
“Does dying feel good?”
“…Pardon?”
Hern’s brow furrowed, caught off guard. Did he just hear that correctly?
Such a question didn’t belong on the lips of a child.
“Is death something important enough to make me give up on myself?”
The child blinked.
Frozen in shock, Hern couldn’t move—he felt like a rigid statue, unable to breathe or shift.
The child knew what their mother had said in her final moments. She had known everything. She knew the child would be left alone. Knowing that, she used herself as a sacrifice.
“I’m sorry, little one. Because of my selfishness… I’ll leave you alone…”
She left, leaving only the memories of her life behind, only facts and information, vanishing into a world where even her body remained absent.
“Is achieving that truly a happy thing?”
Was it something so precious that one would sacrifice themselves for it?
The child had huddled in broken windows or gaps between doors many times, pondering this, but still, the answer eluded them.
Death—what it was, what it felt like—remained a mystery.
Though the child had inherited their mother’s knowledge, understanding her was another matter entirely.
“You don’t know either, do you, Grandfather?”
The child raised their head and smiled faintly, as if noticing Hern’s unease.
Though she could be sharp and cold in front of Alias, she showed care and thoughtfulness to others.
Hern found that deeply moving. True consideration required watching others, paying attention, thinking of their feelings. A child at this age should be allowed to indulge in whims and selfishness—it was natural.
“…Why on earth,” Hern muttered, pressing a hand to his aching chest, “did she leave the child behind without any plan?”
His fist clenched tightly.
“Grandfather.”
“…Yes, little one.”
“Don’t be angry.”
The child’s clear, direct eyes met Hern’s gray gaze.
Those amber eyes shimmered strangely, catching the light differently with every angle.
Feeling the intensity of the child’s gaze, Hern slowly nodded.
Only then did the child nod back, exposing their belly and beginning to play with the lizard rolling on the floor, poking it with a finger.
‘That’s… a lizard, right?’
No, wasn’t it called a dragon?
Though it resembled a small dog more than a lizard or dragon, happily rolling about on the cool floor. Hern smiled awkwardly at the hatchling-like creature.
Yet the child’s expression remained dry, emotion rarely surfacing as it often does in other children.
“Why did you think I’d be angry?”
“Well… being angry is noisy and it hurts,” the child replied simply.
Hern smiled awkwardly at the blunt answer.
‘Could this be another hidden power of the jewel eyes?’
Hern pondered for a moment.
“It’s about time to prepare lunch. Would you like to stay here, or come with me to the dining hall?”
“Yeah, have a good one.”
The child offered a brief, indifferent farewell, as if ignoring Hern’s invitation.
Feeling a little embarrassed, Hern smoothed his collar and stood.
The child glanced at Hern’s retreating figure but didn’t follow or see him off.
‘I need to be quick.’
Hern’s steps almost turned into a run as he exited the castle.
Left alone, the child carefully rose, holding Sion close, eyes darting around.
“Roar!”
“Ah!”
A sudden loud shout startled the child, who fell backward, hitting their bottom on the floor.
Pressing their racing heart against Sion, the child tilted their head.
“Ha! Are you an idiot? Hahaha! Scared of something like this?”
“Who…”
A red-haired boy.
He looked a head taller than the child, dressed neatly but dirtied with mud and leaves.
“Idiot. How long are you going to sit there? Come on, get up.”
The boy extended his mud-covered hand toward the child. Though his tone was friendly, the child had never met him before.
“Hahaha! Yesterday was too late, but I’ve been waiting since this morning. Finally—success! Whoa, your eyes are amazing! Sparkle like jewels!”
The child blinked blankly, not understanding a word.
“….”
Leaning in close with a mischievous grin, the boy made the child flinch and step back. Such open expression of emotion was unfamiliar.
“What, can’t speak? Not getting up? Your hand’s gonna fall off.”
Only then did the child timidly place their hand over his. The boy grinned and pulled them upright.
“I heard there was a kid at the northeastern castle. Wow, you’re tiny. Bored anyway, so this is perfect. It’s been so dull here with only old folks.”
“….”
“Anyway, hi! I’m Raphas, heir to the proud recorders!”
Introducing himself boldly, Raphas extended his hand.
The child stared at him, amazed. This whirlwind of a boy was entirely new and strange.
“Really feels like my arm’s gonna fall off. So… who are you?”
“….”
A clear, pure soul. At the same time, a fiery passion.
The child sensed that Raphas wasn’t bad, yet couldn’t figure out how to respond.
“Ah, c’mon. Didn’t say you couldn’t talk.”
Raphas rubbed his head, frustrated.
“Hey, I said let’s be friends. Friend! Know what that is?”
Finally, moving his lips exaggeratedly, he enunciated the word clearly.
The child watched curiously.
“…Why friends?”
“Oh, you can talk? Friends are… someone to have fun with, someone to talk to. You know it’s super boring here. But why are you all scruffy? Been exploring?”
The child tilted their head, scanning their own clothes and Raphas’s. They didn’t seem so different.
“So, we’re friends now?”
Though the child didn’t answer, Raphas persisted, shaking their hand up and down before nodding satisfied.
“Then here’s our first mission as friends! Let’s go exploring!”
His reddish-brown eyes sparkled with mischief as he pulled the child along. Balancing Sion with one arm, the child was nearly dragged out of the castle.
“I’ll be back by evening.”
‘My name…’
Watching their home recede, the child bowed their head in quiet sadness.
“Hey, aren’t you hungry? I know a place with tons of delicious food!”
“I ate earlier. Not really now…”
Raphas’s face fell at the rejection, shoulders slumping. The child stiffened, sensing his disappointment.
“Ah, can’t be helped. But what’s that?”
“Sion…”
“Your lizard’s name is Sion? Sounds like a person. Lucky! You get to have a lizard. Our master says pets can ruin the record books, so no way!”
Raphas’s red hair swung with excitement.
The child didn’t understand words like record books or pets.
After a pause, they nodded cautiously.
“Books?”
“Yeah! Someday I’ll inherit them. They record everything that’s happened in the world, and I’ll keep writing what happens in the future too. Isn’t that awesome?!”
Raphas’s sparkling eyes contrasted with the child’s hesitant nod.
