“Sir, a thanks is in order…” the knight beside them said.
But Nashetania indicated with a gesture that it was unnecessary. “Sir Bov, please step outside. I wish to speak with him privately.”
“Very well, Your Highness.”
As the knight left the sickroom, Goldof remained fixated on Nashetania. Once they were alone, her poise evaporated, and she gave him a carefree grin. “So your name is Goldof, mister? The truth is, I’m actually Nashetania. Tee-hee, does that surprise you?”
Goldof nodded. Nashetania reached out to him. He hesitated, but then accepted her handshake. It was the first time he’d ever touched a girl without violence.
“You don’t talk much, do you?” she said. “I got that impression, when we first met.”
“…Yeah.”
“How old are you? Where did you learn to use a spear?”
“That was…my first time. I’m…ten.”
“Really, te— Wait, you’re younger than me?!” Nashetania’s eyes widened in shock and she looked Goldof up and down. “Huh? What?! You don’t look…Oh, well, I guess you’ve kinda got a baby face…” Embarrassed by her ogling, Goldof turned away. Nashetania’s head tilted back and forth in bewilderment, but she seemed to be convinced, nevertheless.
After that, she asked about his wounds, touching him to make sure he was recouperating. His wounds were serious, but knowing they would all heal with time made her smile contentedly.
Talking with Nashetania evoked strange feelings from inside him. It made his heart turn clear, warm, and serene. Later, Goldof would come to understand that this feeling was called “peace.”
“Well, mister—I mean, Goldof. I forgot to ask you something important. Why did you come to save me?”
Goldof hadn’t even known what he was doing when he came after her. Unable to explain his reasons, he reflected. As he did, for some reason, he began crying. Goldof kept wiping the tears away, but they wouldn’t stop.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Are you hurt?” Goldof tried to say something, but it just wouldn’t come into words.
Nashetania smiled and said, “You don’t have to force yourself to talk. I’ll wait until you’re done.”
Goldof continued sobbing for a long time after that. He’d first woken in the afternoon, but even after the sun set, the tears wouldn’t stop coming. Nashetania waited patiently, never showing slightest sign of annoyance.
Goldof had always longed for praise. He wanted to be needed. He yearned for someone to tell him it was all right for him to live. For the first time, he’d found meaning in life. They were tears of joy. After Nashetania had left his hut, Goldof had thought to himself, I want to protect her. I want her to need me. And I want to see her again. And now she was safe, and she was right there in front of him. He wept with happiness.
Eventually, he stopped. After listening to his long confession, Nashetania said, “Goldof, I’m glad that you were born in this country. Thank you, truly, so much for saving me. Please, let me show you my thanks.”
“There’s…nothing…I want.”
Nashetania shook her head. “You’ve done so much for me, even though you’d never met me before and you didn’t know me. I have to repay you somehow.”
But there was nothing that Goldof wanted now. He’d already gotten his wish—to see Nashetania one more time. For her to thank him. What more could he need? Goldof racked his brain, and finally he said, “I have…just…one request.”
“What is it?”
“If…you’re ever…in danger…again…” He hesitated to say it out loud. He was anxious, not sure if it was allowed. “Can I…come save you…again?”
When Nashetania heard that, she put a hand over her mouth. A hint of wetness welled in her eyes. “Of course, please, come save me. Come save me again and again.”
Goldof was so relieved, the tears he thought had dried spilled out once again.
That was how Goldof became a knight in Nashetania’s service. The civil war ended, and Nashetania returned to the capital. King Nalphtoma was stripped of all authority and reduced to a mere figurehead on the throne. Nashetania designated a high chancellor who would take on the responsibilities of governing the nation.
By Nashetania’s decree, a lower-ranking knight named Kenzo Auora adopted Goldof, and so the boy’s surname was changed, as well. Goldof learned how to read and write, how to wield a spear, manners and etiquette, as well as the tenets of chivalry.
Life for him at the royal palace couldn’t be called comfortable. His humble origins made him feel obligated, and many of the other knights were jealous of his incredible strength. But none of that mattered compared to the joy he obtained by being with Nashetania. He could suppress the black flames in his heart if it meant being with Nashetania. He was able to forget his past violence. Goldof had been reborn.
But as Nashetania turned out to be an outrageous tomboy, Goldof was confounded by how often she caused trouble for everyone.
When Goldof was fourteen years old, he became the youngest-ever victor of the Tournament Before the Divine. As his reward, he was promoted captain of the Black Horns knights. But in practice, the previous captain, Gazama, was really in command. Goldof’s title was in name only.
He also received one more reward: a hieroform that had been passed down through generations in Piena’s royal family. Four hundred years ago, the King of Piena had ordered its construction in the utmost secrecy. Even the elder of All Heavens Temple didn’t know it had been created. Goldof was not allowed to tell anyone of its existence or its power.
The hieroform was called the Helm of Allegiance, and it was charged with the power of the Saint of Words. When the wearer’s liege was captured, the helmet would activate automatically. First, it would make a sound like a bell to alert the wearer to the danger. No one else could hear the sound. Then the wearer and their liege would be able to communicate at will. No matter how far apart they were, they could hear even the gentlest whisper from each other. The Helm had one drawback, however: It only activated when the wearer’s liege was captured. If the liege was in danger, but not specifically captured, then the helmet would not react at all.
Goldof wore the helmet at all times, never letting it leave his person. He’d even worn it at socially inappropriate times, making him the butt of some jokes.
Goldof was in love with Nashetania; he wouldn’t deny that. But more importantly, he had sworn a solemn oath of loyalty to her. Love did fade, but loyalty was endless, and Goldof believed that a bond of fealty was far deeper than one of passion.
Nashetania was a good master.
Her willfulness did often cause trouble. Sometimes she would sneak out of the castle on her own to talk to dubious characters. Sometimes, she would overwhelm her retainers with impossible requests. Her behavior was rarely befitting of a princess. The greatest stir she’d ever caused had been her tantrum because she wanted to be a Saint. But still, everything she did was, in her own way, with her people and the country in mind.
I will not be a princess who is simply there to be protected. I’ll defend the people, she had said, puffing up with pride. That was Nashetania: the girl who made him worry, the girl who was dear to him, the girl who made him proud.
Nashetania was Goldof’s raison d’être.
This must be a bad dream, Goldof told himself. If he closed his eyes and opened them again, he’d surely wake up. Nashetania won’t be the seventh; she’ll still be the liege I swore to protect, he thought, squeezing his eyes shut.
“…”
After a few blind moments, he opened them again. Nightmarish reality lay unchanged before him. He was in the Howling Vilelands. With him were the other five Braves and one impostor; his beloved Nashetania was not among them. If this is a nightmare, let me wake up now, he mentally implored as he opened his eyes, but the reality was the same.
It was the afternoon of the seventeenth day after the Evil God’s awakening. The Braves of the Six Flowers had made it through the Cut-Finger
Forest and now stood before the massive ravine dividing the Howling Vilelands.
“Meooow! That’s huge! I’ve never seen nothin’ so big!” Hans was prancing about in front of the ravine. It had to be more than a hundred meters deep. Its vastness stunned the others—Fremy alone maintained her composure. Goldof gazed vacantly at the gorge from a little ways away.
“I can’t believe it. Fiends carved out this whole thing?” Rolonia marveled.
“The fiends have been preparing for their battle with the Braves of the Six Flowers for three hundred years. Digging a ravine like this is nothing to them,” said Fremy.
“How will we cross it?” Mora asked. “Tgurneu will eventually notice our departure from the forest. The fiends will surge in, and we’ll be surrounded.” Their expressions were grave as they discussed the situation. Goldof didn’t join in. He just stood in silence.
It had been four days since Nashetania had told them all that she was the seventh and then disappeared. For Goldof, those days had been an unending nightmare. Everything in front of him seemed so terribly far away. His thoughts wouldn’t settle down, and he felt hollow, as if he’d abandoned his emotions somewhere. Was he sad? Was he angry? He couldn’t even figure out that much.
All of his memories felt vague to him: Rolonia’s appearance, their excursion into the Howling Vilelands, their fight with Tgurneu, Adlet figuring out Tgurneu’s plot to trick Mora, their talk at the Bud of Eternity, and how they’d all worked together to get through the Cut-Finger Forest. Goldof couldn’t remember much of anything. Fremy and Mora had said that they were suspicious of him, and Adlet had tried many times to encourage him. But not even that mattered to him.
“Isn’t there a bridge, Fremy?” asked Adlet.
“There is. One at the northern end, and another at the southern end. But I don’t think either one is an option. Cargikk’s minions are waiting for us there, and the bridges are set up to immediately self-destruct if we ever get close to crossing.”
“Hey, Fremy,” Chamo interjected. “Aren’t there any secret paths? Like some way to get across safely without the bridges?”
“There’d be no need, would there? Since the fiends always use the bridges.”
The group tossed around some ideas for how to cross the ravine. Goldof couldn’t join in. Even if he did try, his thoughts wouldn’t come together. If he attempted to talk, he wouldn’t know what to say. Four days ago, Goldof had lost the ability to speak fluently. It had been a very long time since Goldof had been that taciturn boy. Over the past six years, he’d learned the speech and conduct appropriate for a knight. But now, he couldn’t remember how he had talked before.
He looked out over the ravine. He wasn’t trying to devise a way to cross it. He was looking for Nashetania. In the four days he’d been in the Howling Vilelands, his search for her had not stopped.
“…”
He recalled the events of four days ago, after Nashetania had confessed to her crime and fled into the forest.
Three of the Braves ran through the dark forest: Hans, Chamo, and Mora. They were in pursuit of Nashetania, who had just escaped them. Adlet was passed out on the ground while Fremy treated his wounds. It was well into the night, and dawn was close.
In the dark forest, Goldof stood alone, in front of the temple.
“Has Nashetania come this way, Goldof?” Mora asked him from within the forest.
He shook his head.
“We have no leads, either. It seems we’ve lost sight of her entirely. I’d rather kill her tonight, if possible, though,” said Mora.
Mora had said that though the Phantasmal Barrier had been nullified, its effects would continue for a while until the mist had cleared entirely. Nashetania would not be able to escape the barrier yet, not for the whole night. Hans and Mora had said that if they failed to kill her within that time, she’d only cause more trouble down the line.
“She seems to be using some strange technique. She has vanished before my eyes many times, and Hans has witnessed the same. You be cautious, too.”
Goldof didn’t even nod. Mora sighed and left.
Sometime after Mora’s departure, a voice came from within the temple. “It sounds like you have them fooled, Goldof.” Nashetania emerged from the large hole in the temple floor. Her armor was cracked and her sword broken, and she was pressing one hand to a gash on her arm. Her face revealed her deep exhaustion. “If you hadn’t been here, I would’ve died…Hans really is a terrifying man,” she said, smiling.
The Braves had her cornered. She didn’t stand a chance against Hans or Chamo, and the assassin had already figured out her mysterious disappearing technique. When she’d run to Goldof, he’d covered for her without hesitation.
“The barrier’s effects will wear off soon. Maybe I can get away now…ngh.” She grimaced. The wounds Hans had given her must have been painful.
“…Why…?” Goldof questioned.
“That’s a rather vague inquiry. What are you trying to ask me?” Nashetania spread both arms with a wry smile. That was the Nashetania he knew: willful, mischievous, honest, and without artifice. Always brimming with confidence, she treated people of every station equally. Though she caused the citizenry trouble, she was also beloved. The girl he knew was still right there.
“Why…why…have you…?” Confused, he couldn’t put it into words.
Seeing his condition, Nashetania gave him a smile that said, Oh, you’re hopeless. “You may not believe this, Goldof, but I am the seventh. I came here with the intention of killing the Braves of the Six Flowers.”
No matter how many times she said it, he couldn’t believe it. He didn’t want to.
“No one is controlling me. I’m not doing this because I have no other choice. I fought of my own free will, and I lost. But I won’t give up. I must keep fighting, as long as I live.”
“…What…for? What was the reason…you betrayed us?”
“For the sake of my ambition,” said Nashetania, and for the first time, the look on her face became something unfamiliar to him. Her eyes were filled with serene strength of will and unwavering determination. “I have an ambition and I fear no hardship in accomplishing my goal. No matter what sacrifices I must make, even if it destroys my reputation, so be it. I’ll stake my life on it.”
“…Ambition…” Goldof muttered. That word didn’t sound like her at all.
“Yes. I can’t describe my feelings as a ‘dream’ or an ‘ideal’ or any other pretty-sounding words. Dreams can be abandoned, and ideals can be discarded, but when you have an ambition, you can’t be stopped until you’re dead.” She leaned in toward him. Her face scared him. He’d never seen this expression on his liege, whom he’d sworn to spend his life defending. But this was who she really was.
“You wouldn’t understand. Someone who’s never had ambition could never understand how I feel.” Nashetania watched Goldof fall silent and giggled.
Thinking about it now, his relationship with Nashetania went back a long way. But perhaps they’d never spoken candidly to each other before, not even once. Goldof wanted to protect her, but he’d never gotten to know her that deeply.
“What will you…do now?” he asked.
“I’ll escape, and then go meet my comrade to think about what happens next.”
“Your…comrade?”
“That’s right. I have a colleague named Dozzu who has been with me since before I met you. We share the same passionate ambition, and we fight together. I would never betray Dozzu, and Dozzu would never betray me, either.”
“Who…is he?”
“The traitor to fiends. The other fiends are trying to kill him. I’m a traitor to humans, and he’s a traitor to fiends. Tee-hee. A beautiful friendship, don’t you think?” Nashetania joked. “I must be going. The barrier has just about expired. It will be quite a rough battle, but I should be able to manage an escape, at least.”
“…Your Highness…”
“If you survive, I’m sure we’ll meet again.
Will we be enemies then, or allies? I would rather you be my ally.”
Goldof wanted to beseech her, Please, come to your senses! But he couldn’t. She was serious about waging war on the Six Braves. The only way he could stop her was to kill her.
Nashetania was about to walk out of the temple when Goldof called after her. “Your Highness…what should I…do?”
“We’re enemies now. You don’t have to address me by my title anymore.” Nashetania started walking away. “Do what you think is right. That’s all I can say.”
“What…does that…?”
“You need to find that out for yourself. I won’t resent you or be disappointed in you. Even if you kill Dozzu or me. Not if you believe you made the right choice.”
“…Your Highness…what’s…your ambition?”
She put one hand on her chest and said with pride, “Didn’t I tell you before? It’s to create a world of peace. To see all the people of the world smile. To build a nation where we can make humans and fiends alike happy. That’s all.”
“Even if…you have to sacrifice…five hundred thousand people?”
“I’d rather have as few human deaths as possible. But my ambitions cannot be fulfilled without some loss of life,” Nashetania stated, and she left the temple.
Was it all a lie? Goldof wondered as he stood alone in the temple. The kind things she said to me when we first met, wanting to protect her, all of it. Was I just another person for her to deceive?
Then he heard Nashetania outside. “I’m sorry I lied to you all this time. It wasn’t want I wanted. But it had to be this way.”
“…Your Highness…”
“But just let me say this. Six years ago, when you told me your wish, it made me so happy I wanted to cry. Someone cared for me from the bottom of his heart. Someone would protect me, even if it cost him his life. I couldn’t believe it.” Nashetania’s voice cracked, just a little. “I’ve lied to you many times, but this—this is true.”
And then he could hear her no more. After a while, he heard Hans’s and Mora’s voices, then the sounds of battle being joined. Goldof stood frozen the whole time.
Rokka: Braves of the Six Flowers, Vol. 3 Page 12
