Chapter 136
On a crescent moon night, a girl stood in what was called the forest hideout. Not far from the temple. Walking through a secret passage made of vines led to a small circular clearing. A willow tree stood at its center.
That was their private hideout.
The girl pulled her robe low, worried her hair might reflect in the moonlight, and anxiously paced around the willow tree.
Near midnight.
Had he been caught sneaking out of his bedroom? Had something happened? The girl fretted.
Soon, someone rustled nearby, making their presence known.
The girl turned toward the sound in alarm.
A man's silhouette appeared in the darkness.
"Lucille."
When he called out the herb name password, the girl responded with hers.
"Pony!"
After confirming the password, a boy walked steadily out of the darkness.
The girl lowered her deeply pulled robe, revealing her face. Silver hair fell smoothly to her waist.
The boy asked, "Did you wait long?"
The girl nodded.
"I was so worried something happened because you took so long."
"I thought no one would be at the fountain, but Sister Dolores suddenly came out for a night walk. I had to wait until she left."
The boy was hiding something behind his back.
"What's that behind your back?"
The boy grinned and brought forward a box from behind him.
When he opened the square lid, a pure white cake appeared on a square board.
"...What's this?"
"What else? It's a cake."
"How... did you get this?"
Cake was made with expensive ingredients. For a boy who lived on oatmeal porridge daily, even a single slice was beyond his wildest dreams.
"I put in some overtime. I told you I was busy."
Where could he have worked, and what did he do? There were hardly any places that would hire a boy still small and weak.
"..."
"Hold this for a moment."
He had the girl hold the cake while he took out candles from his pocket. After placing them in the cake's center, he struck flint. The girl smiled and lit them with magic.
When the final preparations finished without further adjustment, he awkwardly stuffed the flint back in his pocket and said, "Magic is more convenient, huh? I’ll hold it now."
The boy took back the cake.
Thanks to the light, they could see each other's faces hidden in darkness.
"Now then—"
Before he could finish, the girl interrupted. It was because of his face.
"Wait... what happened to your face?"
The boy's forehead was bruised and one cheek was swollen.
He avoided her gaze and said, "I slipped while working and hit a wall. It's nothing."
The girl looked worried and put her hand on his cheek.
"...How is this nothing? Who did this? Who?"
"It's fine. Really, I just fell."
"You're... not good at lying. We promised not to lie to each other."
When she pressed him, the boy kept quiet for a while before reluctantly speaking, "I slipped while moving flour sacks and spilled one. The manager didn't seem to like that."
He meant they'd punched his face over one mistake. This was how orphans were typically treated. With no parents, no strength, and no one to protect them, everyone thought they could treat them however they wanted.
Tears began welling up in the girl's eyes.
"I'll... I'll... kill them all..."
He smiled and calmed her.
"You don’t need to dirty your hands something like that? Besides, he has a wife and children. I'm fine, really. This is truly nothing to me."
"..."
Though he was the one who needed comfort, he showed no sign of pain. The boy casually wiped her teary eyes and said, "On a precious occasion like today, I want only happy and joyful memories. You only get to celebrate this day once a year, you know?”
"..."
He was the only one who celebrated her birthday.
He held the cake with the candle in front of her face.
"Here, blow. Before the wind beats you to it."
The girl wiped her eyes with her sleeve and nodded.
She carefully blew out the candle.
As the only light disappeared, the boy's figure before her sank back into darkness.
And from the empty abyss, the boy's final words softly echoed.
— Happy birthday, Lisa.
Lisa woke up.
It was dawn, with the full moon hanging and moonlight pouring down.
She raised her upper body and checked the calendar. It was that day, emphasized until stained with ink.
Lisa's head slowly dropped. She killed time sitting still like that.
Going back to sleep was impossible. Her body trembled. Lisa struggled to calm her mind.
She clenched her fist and pounded her chest. The slow rhythm of thump, thump, thump filled the silence.
There was nothing else she could do.
***
A knock at the door brought me to my senses. Having fallen asleep in Thorn Garden dormitory, only Trisha would be knocking.
Another knock sounded and the door creaked open.
Trisha poked just her head in and whispered softly, "Still sleeping?"
I frowned and covered my eyes. The unsettling dreams had prevented deep sleep.
I keep having the same dreams lately. But nothing appeared clearly.
Are they prophetic dreams? What do they mean? Maybe I'm facing dying prophetic dreams.
Like an elderly person on their deathbed mumbling unintelligibly with their last breath—that kind of feeling.
"Damian...?"
"...What."
"Are you sick?"
"No, but why are you here?"
"Well... no, never mind. Keep sleeping!"
I said, rubbing my messy hair.
"What is it? Tell me."
"Um... I prepared all the ingredients."
"...Ingredients?"
I sat up and summoned a spirit to light the oil lamp.
"Yes. You just need to do the rest!"
"Do what?"
"Cooking...!"
I looked out the window with bleary eyes. Though still dark, morning light was coming in.
Trisha had no talent for cooking. So I had agreed to prepare meals. I'd even memorized cookbooks for a while because of that.
Though annoying, I couldn't just let Trisha go hungry.
I got out of bed and habitually checked the calendar on the bedside table. Seeing the date, my mind froze momentarily.
Trisha looked at me somewhat puzzled.
"Are you sick?"
"No."
I folded the calendar and put it in the drawer.
"...What's wrong? Are you in a bad mood?"
Seeing my behavior, Trisha became somewhat nervous. She probably thought she had irritated me.
"No. Just unsettling dreams lately."
I quickly stretched and got up.
"What do you want to eat?"
"...Anything!"
I sighed lightly and headed to the kitchen. I had to prepare my own breakfast anyway.
Trisha followed right behind me and sat at the kitchen table.
Baskets of ingredients were neatly arranged in the kitchen. She really must have prepared them diligently at dawn.
I lit the firewood and quickly started preparing the ingredients.
She watched my back while I prepared the cooking ingredients, resting her chin on both hands with a pleased expression.
"Go do what you need to do."
"No, I want to stay here!"
"If you have nothing to do, could you wash the dirt off these?"
I pointed to a basket of potatoes. I thought she'd complain, but she accepted energetically.
"Okay!"
She ran outside with the basket.
A strange feeling came over me. Preparing meals together somehow made it feel like we were a real family.
Living together would have its conflicts and compromises, but I felt it was worth enduring for stability like this.
Shortly after, Trisha came running back with the potato basket, making a racket.
"All done!"
Water dripped from the basket, and her hands were bright red as if she'd washed them in ice-cold water.
Seeing that, I couldn't help but smile.
"That's good enough. Rest and play with the spirit."
I sent the fire spirit to Trisha to warm her hands.
If nothing else, there was joy in building a daily routine with Trisha.
I could now picture what kind of daily life Trisha had been yearning for in this isolated dormitory.
Silveryn's mansion, Witdruff Hall dormitory.
Life there was undeniably convenient.
Food prepared by others. Bookshelves organized by others. Laundry folded by others. All these noble conveniences still felt unfamiliar, like ill-fitting clothes.
A daily life built together with someone. Perhaps this style suited me better.
That’s how I've always lived, after all.
***
After finishing the meal, Trisha and I left the dormitory amicably.
As soon as we left the labyrinth a Stitch flew in.
I quickly snatched it from the air before Trisha could see.
Trisha showed curiosity again. My spine always chilled at times like this.
"What is it?"
"A letter."
"I want to see too."
"I'll show you if you show me all your letters."
She thought for a moment and said, "...That's not fair!"
"Then I won't either."
"..."
Maybe it's her curious age. Why is she so interested in my private life? She wants to see every letter that arrives.
I'll need to hide Silveryn's letters carefully.
For now, with eyes watching, I put the letter in my back pocket.
After walking for a while, Trisha and I parted at Northern Village's student garden.
"Come get me in the evening!" Trisha waved and shouted before leaving.
The sky was still dark blue, and the sun had not fully risen. Though plenty of time remained before my first class, no particular place came to mind to spend it.
Hardly any students were visible passing by.
A peaceful, ordinary daily life no different from before.
I wanted nothing more. I just hope it passed without incident.
With no particular plans, I sat on a garden bench and took out Silveryn's letter to read in my spare time.