What Changes, What Remains (5)

Blacksmithing is fun.

Watching hard metal change shape under my own hands and become weapons and tools with a purpose—how could that not be interesting?

There is also the joy of making something that satisfies me, and sometimes other people even recognize and praise what I have made.

I can earn money while I am at it.

So lately, I have been thoroughly enjoying blacksmithing and feel quite fulfilled, but smithing was not the real reason I came to Janpemon.

Every seven days, on the day I had set aside as a voluntary day off from blacksmithing, Aina, the innkeeper's daughter, takes me by the hand and leads me toward a hill on the outskirts of town.

Aina had been intensely curious about me from the start, and after I bought sweets as souvenirs a few times on my way back from the forge, she took to me with astonishing ease.

She was so easy to win over that I found myself worried about her.

Come to think of it, Nonna had also been rather easy to win over when we first met—or perhaps I should say she had been a practical, money-minded child—so I felt a certain kinship between them.

We were headed for the cemetery where the people who had died in Janpemon slept.

At first, Shene had offered to show me the way, but she had an inn to run and could not simply make time for it.

I had a decent sense of direction in Janpemon myself, so I said I would be fine as long as I was told roughly where it was. After hearing that, Aina volunteered to guide me herself.

Seeing Aina walking along so happily, almost as if we were on a picnic, put me at ease as well.

Her cheerful guidance was a real blessing, far preferable to having her awkwardly worry over me and turn the trip somber.

From the hill where the cemetery stood, we could see all of Janpemon, including the wheat fields surrounding it.

They had probably deliberately chosen the spot with the finest view, so that the people sleeping there could watch over the town in peace.

The breeze brushed my cheek and passed on.

'The wind calls clouds into the sky, and the clouds scatter water over the earth.

The moistened earth grows wheat, and the golden wheat ears that sway in the wind become a rippling sea.

And the stone ship drifts upon that golden sea.

The ship is called Janpemon.

The town of wheat, loved by wind, water, and earth.

Its beautiful way of life will never, ever come to an end...'

I found myself murmuring the poem.

It was a poem by Rajenna Bogata, a poet from long ago, adapted by Huresio, an elven bard.

"Oh, that one! Aina knows that one!"

Aina happily tugged at my hand two or three times and laughed.

Apparently, Huresio still recites and sings it with the elf caravan, just as he did before.

I would have to meet up with them somewhere at least once as well.

Nonna's grave was not particularly conspicuous compared with the others, and without Aina's guidance, I would have had a great deal of trouble finding it.

"Great-Grandpa's next door."

After patting Aina on the head, I quietly prayed at Nonna's grave and at the grave of the husband I had never met.

What kind of life had Nonna led, and what sort of man had she married?

Since Nonna had been a child when I first met her, it felt truly strange to think that she had lived out her natural lifespan and now lay beneath the earth.

Now, Aina, Nonna's great-granddaughter, and I were standing before this grave.

But surely, one day Aina too would sleep beneath the earth just like Nonna.

Of course, that was a distant future for Aina, who was still a child, but for me, it was a future that was surprisingly close.

...Well, it was an obvious, perfectly ordinary fact.

"Eisa-san, were you friends with Great-Grandma?"

Once I had finished praying, Aina asked me that.

I nodded and stroked her head.

"That's right. We were friends. We went to eat tarts together and talked about all sorts of things."

When I first met Nonna, she had been small enough for me to pat her head like this, and she had been very cute.

By the time I saw her next, she was already a fine lady, and she had helped me a great deal.

Though even after she grew up, Nonna still loved sweet things.

I would not shed tears over it now, but looking back still left me feeling a little sentimental.

Then Aina clasped my hand where it rested on her head with both of hers, as if clinging to it, and said,

"Then! I'll go eat tarts with you instead of Great-Grandma, Eisa-san!"

She said this with a smile.

Her carefree smile drew a smile from me as well.

I suspected that eighty or ninety percent of the offer was simply because she wanted to eat tarts, but the remaining ten or twenty percent came from genuine affection.

In that case, I supposed I would gratefully accept her offer.

...Truly, I could feel that something had definitely been passed down between Nonna and Aina.

Of course, when I first met Nonna, she had been a little older than Aina was now, so she had understood the niceties of customer service a little better.

For now, though, Aina's youthful innocence soothed my heart.

'Its beautiful way of life will never, ever come to an end...'

Huresio had sung those words almost as a consolation, but that way of life was indeed still continuing—at least for now.

I was happy about that, and even if eternity was an illusion, I hoped it would continue for as long as possible.