“…”
He grinned awkwardly, and she nodded, satisfied.
“That’s why I’ll eat any food I think looks good and sleep when I want to. There’s even a reason why I play when I want to, you know? You’re always talking about moderation, Brother, but there’s no time to be moderate!”
She puffed out her chest and spoke confidently.
He was almost touched by her speech. Then he dropped his fist onto her head.
“All that has nothing to do with a life of debauchery.”
“Aww!”
Myuri raised her voice in a whine, and she puffed out her cheeks.
“Brother, you dummy!”
“I am not a dummy. You need to stop trying to talk your way around people at some point. You can never be too careful.”
“I’m not trying to talk my way around anything!”
They walked along while arguing.
It looked like Myuri was throwing the usual childish tantrum, but he could somehow tell that she was doing it on purpose.
And there was still something she had not mentioned. Since she had the blood of the wisewolf in her, there was the possibility that she, too, would live for eternity—so it was possible that she was reaching out toward anything that caught her attention. However, what had caught her attention was not food, nor was it an amusing toy.
It was Col himself.
He had a sense that he understood why she did not mention that.
Had she said that she reached out to him because he, too, would eventually be gone, that would mean recognizing that he truly would no longer be around someday. The superstitious elderly often spoke of it: That which is said aloud soon becomes reality.
Myuri relentlessly complained that he was hardheaded, inconsiderate, a bully, but she clasped his hand as they walked side by side. He could even feel the strength of her grip through his thick gloves, like a little girl who could not go to the privy by herself in the middle of the night.
He could not reciprocate her feelings, but as an older brother, he did not consider it problematic to stand by his little sister’s side until she no longer feared the dark. Fate was something to be feared, and the only way to stand up to it was to pray, as miracles virtually never happened.
God was great because he was the one who could overturn everything.
As they continued up the snowy mountain path, black cliffs suddenly appeared out of nowhere. The pitch-black stones were so jagged they seemed evil, though not too tall, only reaching around Col’s height. The rock formations stretched forward on either side of the pair.
The path wound along the cliffs, heading for the river. Myuri peered curiously at the odd scenery, and she drew closer to sniff at the exposed stone of the cliffside.
“This is where the king’s clothes begin.”
Col had suddenly realized where they were, causing Myuri to look up as well.
“Wow, it is. The color of the leaves is different.”
The line they had seen from the water where the plant life changed seemed to be right where they stood.
“It changes so quickly, doesn’t it?”
“Hmm, I don’t know. It feels like there may be another reason why…”
“Another reason?”
“Like an earthquake, for example.”
Myuri did not ask what an earthquake was. It was perhaps the first time she had heard the word.
“There are times when the earth shakes violently, like a giant stomping around. When that happens, the ground sometimes breaks and can shift like this.”
He had been in lands like that when he was a wandering student much farther to the south, and so he occasionally experienced earthquakes. People often said that it was because God was angry with the evil deeds of humans, but since the northern pagan lands never knew anything about earthquakes, the wrath of God and other such explanations seemed far-fetched.
“Huh.”
Myuri’s response was dull.
“You believe some weird stories sometimes, Brother.”
And then, she went and said that.
“You don’t believe me? I have, numerous times, exp—”
“Are you sure you weren’t drunk? If the ground was moving like you say.”
Though she had no doubts about stories of pirates with daggers in their mouths, raising wild war cries, she was skeptical of the strangest things.
Exasperated, he followed after her, but the lay of the land, strangely, did not change.
As the cliffs consistently appeared to the right where the river was, they got closer and closer to the higher parts of the mountain. If it were a king pulling up his drooping pants to around his belly button, then they were walking on where his belt would be.
The black face of the cliffs was such a stark contrast to the snow, but there were several places that were covered in thick roots. If an earthquake really had happened, then it had been a long time ago. If he asked to hear the stories from the island elders, then they would certainly know of remaining legends.
As these thoughts whirled in his mind, Myuri had stopped ahead of him. She seemed brighter perhaps because the sunlight illuminated her. The glow could only be seen here, where trees did not grow, creating a clearing. The road, too, had been hardened and well-traveled, so it could have been used as a place for prayer.
In the sunshine, Myuri stood with her mouth agape, staring up at the mountain.
Wondering what was enshrined in the place, Col walked into the clearing.
Immediately after, a violent shiver ran down his spine.
“Wha…?”
An unbelievably giant serpent raised its head, as though it would strike at any moment.
“Wh-wha…?”
Col stared upward at the beast but had forgotten they were on a slope, so his posture crumpled and he fell squarely on his behind.
No, there was no time for this. He needed to get up, take Myuri’s hand, and run back into the forest—quickly!
The more he struggled, the farther his feet buried themselves into the snow, and the harder it became to get up.
When he finally stood and looked up, the serpent was in the same place with its mouth opened, unchanged.
He calmed his screaming heart, panting, then gazed up at it again.
What he saw was not the jaws of a giant serpent.
“…A cavern?”
The ceiling was high and wide. A great building of a large commercial firm could easily fit inside. What looked like fangs were overhanging stones, roots and ivy wrapped around them. The snow had the look of a white snake’s skin, and when Col examined the whole once more, he could see nothing but the giant serpent.
It appeared to be a rather deep cavern at first glance, but as his eyes adjusted, he could tell that it was actually quite shallow. The surface of the rock was the same pitch-black as the cliffs, and the unique roughness of its texture made him think of aberrant beings.
“Brother, are you okay?”
He had been so involved in what was in front of him that he had not noticed Myuri at all.
She brushed off the snow that covered him, and she helped him get up.
There was no mischievous smile on her face, perhaps because of how agitated he had become.
“Th-thank you. But what is…?”
“Someone’s offered flowers here, so this must be where they pray.”
Myuri pointed to where the serpent’s tongue would be if the opening was a mouth. Farther inside the cave, where the snow did not reach, there was a pile of rocks along with an unusual winter offering of flowers, just as Myuri had described.
Then, sitting quietly there at the top, was a figure of the Black-Mother.
“I wonder why her back is to us. Maybe someone’s idea of a prank?”
As Myuri had pointed out, the figure of the Holy Mother was facing the inside of the cave. Figures and statues in places of prayer typically faced the people praying, so it left a rather odd impression.
“Maybe there
’s a monster inside.”
If the figure of the Holy Mother’s protection, which had the power to create miracles, was necessary, then it was possible.
“Should I turn into a wolf?” Myuri asked while she fished out the pouch full of wheat from her shirt.
As a person with the blood of a wolf spirit running in her veins, she could use the wheat her mother had passed down to become a wolf herself.
Col did not entertain the possibility that she could win against any towering serpent that came slithering out, but she could throw him on her back and quickly escape.
“There might be trouble if someone saw you, so…,” Col explained as he peered inside the cave, though it did not seem like anything was hidden inside.
And as he approached, he could clearly see that the cave was not deep enough to hide anything.
“I wonder what she’s looking at.”
Myuri stood by his side, examining the figure of the Black-Mother as it stared silently into the cave, and then she tilted her head. Though she had mentioned someone placing it backward as a joke, it did not seem to be an adequate explanation.
“Do you think they found the jewels here?”
“What?”
Her words were sudden, and he looked back at her.
“You know, the little doll here is made out of whatever that weird stuff was, right?”
Without a drop of respect in her, Myuri pointed and waved her finger at the figure of the Black-Mother.
“…You mean jet? But…”
He had seen mines in the past before, but this felt different compared to every other mine he had ever known. Mining operations always angled downward. The ground in this hole was flat, and the ceiling was extremely high. It should have been much easier to mine starting from the top rather than going upward. More importantly, it was hard to imagine that the figure was placed here in a hope that jewels would appear from this hole.
And he felt like he had seen this somewhere before. Where was it?
“Do you want to try and dig? Mother dug a hole and found water when Father asked her back when they were opening the bathhouse, right?”
As though Myuri’s inner seven-year-old boy was tingling, Col could see the ends of silver hair from the hem of her coat. Her wolf ears were likely sticking out already under her hood. On an island surrounded by a frozen sea, in such an intriguing place, a black figurine of the Holy Mother was being worshipped in an incomprehensible manner. Her curiosity was like a wasp’s nest that someone poked with a stick.
“Or maybe there’ll be water for that dead river if we dig.”
“What?”
As she spoke, Myuri headed farther into the cave, moving about the rocks at her feet.
Col watched her, holding his breath, and looked up toward the ceiling, then at the Black-Mother.
His body leaned backward, like he was reeling, because he began to move in reverse; he stepped behind himself because he had a certain hunch.
What had he first thought when they entered the clearing from the mountain path?
It was almost like a serpent was jumping out to attack them.
In that case, it was clear as to why the Black-Mother had her back to the outside.
He had seen this sight before. He had not been able to piece it together well because it was frozen in time.
The ground at his feet changed from black gravel to white snow. He took two, three steps back, looking at the whole image. The mouth of the serpent, which seemed as though it would attack him at any moment, started to look like something else.
“…”
What flowed along the river might not have been water. He looked back, and it became perfectly obvious as to where it was flowing. And then the Black-Mother.
“Brother, what’s wrong?”
Myuri emerged from the cave, her eyes screwed nearly shut due to the reflection of light on the snow.
“Hey, Brother?”
She pulled on his sleeve, and he finally came to.
“No…”
He shook his head and looked back into the cave once more.
Once he became obsessed with the idea, he could not shake it off. He was wrong in thinking that he had seen it somewhere before. He had heard a similar story before, and he knew it well.
“Broooootheeeeer?”
Myuri mischievously waved her hands around before his face but jumped when he finally looked at her.
He took her hand as she flinched, and he began to walk off.
“Huh? What?”
“There’s something we need to confirm.”
He pulled the confounded Myuri along, taking the road they had originally come from. It at first seemed like she would trip over herself, but the girl raised in the mountains did not stumble.
“Sheesh, Brother!”
He ignored her complaint as his head was already full of things he had to think about.
The Black-Mother faith was not a sham or a superstition. But as a faith, it still might be false.
His job was to judge whether or not the northern seas would make suitable allies for the just cause of the Kingdom of Winfiel in their fight against the Church.
From the gaps between the trees, he could see the port town of Caeson.
The dead river that split the island in two drew an azure line in the field of snow.
CHAPTER THREE
Col could only run at full speed until he reached the edge of the forest, and once they exited onto the snowy fields beyond, he began to pant. Soon he could lift his feet no longer. Reality never went the way he imagined. Myuri could only roll her eyes at him, but his legs propelled them forward, fueled by a sense of duty.
Myuri had thought they were going to take a rest at the church, but they passed through it and headed straight to the port.
It was just after noon so the main streets they passed were mostly empty. After searching around the docks, Col quickly found what he was looking for: a boat bound for the monastery.
Considering what Reicher had told them, Col thought such a sudden request to be ferried over would be refused, but when he called out to the men at the port, the tips of all their noses bright red, laughing together merrily, every man clamored to be the one to take them. He ended up deciding with the flip of a coin, then paid the fare, which cost about the same amount as a whole loaf of rye bread in Atiph. It was not an easy proposition to cross the water in springtime, but rather one that would mean the end of his life if he fell in, so he did not consider the cost to be excessive. It also accounted for the fact that the captain himself would be taking a risk.
It was a small vessel, one that would be full after seating four adults, and thanks to the rowing skills of the man who claimed to be a fisherman, they glided across the dark sea.
The harbor soon grew small in the distance, and the captain’s friends waved their hands wildly toward them.
Though it was barely noticeable from the port, they could clearly feel the waves shifting under them as they got farther and farther away from land. The boat was small; even inside, they were close enough to the water that if he reached out, he could touch it.
He thought Myuri might crouch on the bottom of the boat for the duration of the crossing, but she sat silently beside him. She must have been angry at him because when they had crossed through the main street, they went right by a restaurant with good smells wafting from it. But she seemed a much more committed helper to his job this way.
“An apprenticeship, eh?” The captain suddenly spoke to him.
“…I beg your pardon. What?”
“You aiming for an apprenticeship? With the brother.”
The compact captain already had sweat dripping from his forehead. His breath was also pure white, while his smile was strained.
“You were running around the island so frantically with that little friend of yours there.”
Since it was such a small place, they had likely been watched ever since they arrived before noon. Reicher’s warning had certai
nly not been a joke.
“Or if you’re planning on building a new monastery, I suggest you don’t.”
There was no malice in the man’s words as he continued to smile at Col.
“I’ve heard that many times on the way here. Are there really that many people who come to do that?” Col asked.
The captain responded without so much as a pause in the motion of the oars.
“Even if we’re only counting the most obvious-looking guys, there’s at least one every year or two, without fail. Sometimes merchants even come to take a gander around the islands. Their noble friends tell ’em to come build a monastery, and they’re hoping to make some shiny coin for themselves. Most of them are southerners coming up here to gather herring and cod.”
Construction, ordering daily supplies, transporting visitors, plus other odds and ends. The merchant who had taken Col in when he was a child had told him there was not much money to be made trading with monasteries, but perhaps these businessmen had intended to work themselves to the bone for the monastery in service of God.
The boat had come rather far from the port, and likely due to how small the vessel was, the lake in the sea seemed unusually large.
There was something peculiar about the loneliness at sea. Anyone could find faith here.
“Mr. Reicher at the church hammered that story into us.”
“Ah, Father Reicher the drunkard.”
The captain laughed.
“Though it is true that my lord and employer ordered me to investigate the region, right now I simply wish to meet the monk who oversees the faith in this land.”
“It looks like you visited the shrine up at the foot of the mountain and everything, too.”
“Wha—?”
Col was shocked, wondering how he knew. The boat captain’s face wore a mysterious expression.
“You can clearly see anyone walking over the snowfields from the port, and you have a good view of the sea from the shrine, right? Look to God and he shall watch over you, too—that’s one of his teachings, isn’t it?”
The man was right. Now that he thought about it, Col turned back, and behind the captain, he could see the island and the mountain. The tiny, ant-like white dots must have been the clearing before the shrine in the serpent’s mouth.
Wolf & Parchment, Volume 2 Page 11
