“Do you want to ruin the prayer ritual? What kind of blasphemy are you spouting in front of a god! What did you just say? Demon! You said demon!”
“I’m sorry, Silver! Actually, among people our age in Atania, atheism is really popular… You’re not considered cool unless you at least pretend to spit at the gods… These days even little kids cry and refuse to go to temples with their parents…”
“We were just talking nonsense like we always do. And, uh… we said it in Atanian, so maybe Lord Long-Snout Frog didn’t understand?”
Silver finally seemed to calm down at Wolf’s words.
“I’ll overlook it this once. But if you act arrogant during the ritual, be ready. People from Stol don’t forgive blasphemy.”
“Okay! Okay! We’ll be reverent. Promise. Promise!”
After the commotion died down, the moon rose high and round. With the pheasant and rabbit Silver had hunted placed in the center, the three boys circled around it.
Wolf’s heart pounded throughout the ritual.
Silver, wrapped in the black robe with the hood pulled low, holding a torch with white smoke curling upward while chanting the spell with only the lips visible beneath the hood, looked both eerie and strangely magnificent.
Was this what a real black mage looked like?
Aside from the fact that the god was being summoned for skin care, the ritual was an experience that couldn’t be bought in Atania even with money.
When they finished the ritual and began roasting the meat, Silver spoke.
“The moles won’t disappear right away. If you wait, they’ll gradually fade and vanish one by one.”
“I hope they really disappear since we went through the trouble. Honestly, I’ve always been embarrassed about the ones on my hands and feet.”
The Red Eagle Prince muttered while examining the back of a hand. Wolf found it strange—apparently having no moles at all was unusual for someone from Stol.
“Hey, Silver. When you and the old man stared at me strangely at the hot spring… was it because of the moles?”
“Yeah.”
Silver admitted it without hesitation.
“I’d never seen it before. A Stol person with no moles anywhere. I even checked your feet, thinking maybe you had some on the soles. When there weren’t any there either, I was shocked.”
“Oh, I see… So the tattoos people from Stol have—are they meant to hide the moles?”
“I don’t know if that’s the origin, but probably? People from Stol think they’re disgusting too. Everyone tattoos the places where the moles cluster.”
“Then the ones around your eyes were originally—”
Before Wolf could finish, Silver smacked the back of his head.
“These are just for style! My face was perfectly clean!”
After bathing in the hot spring, the three boys went to bed. Black Weasel still hadn’t returned that night.
* * *
From that point on the boys spent their days completely absorbed in play. One day they suddenly counted the days and realized it had been fifteen since Black Weasel had left the cave.
“Why hasn’t the old man come back yet? Didn’t he tell you where he was going?”
Lying in bed, Wolf asked carefully. Silver, lying beside him with his arm under his head, glanced sideways at Wolf.
“No. I know where he went.”
“So you know when he’s coming back?”
“He didn’t tell me.”
“Tch. Then you won’t tell me why he left the cave either, right?”
“Even if I wanted to, I can’t. I don’t know that either.”
Silver fell silent and stared at the ceiling. His expression revealed nothing.
“…Well, with Ice-Armored Beast’s reckless personality, it’s obvious what he’s probably doing right now. Either getting some woman pregnant somewhere or getting drunk.”
“Getting a woman… p-pregnant?”
Wolf’s cheeks flushed at the blunt wording. Silver snorted.
“What are you so shocked about? Ice-Armored Beast bragged about it all the time. Said he’d gotten more than fifty women pregnant back in his prime. Plenty of husbands even bought him drinks to thank him.”
“How would a husband… wait—?”
Only then did Wolf remember.
‘In Stol there has been a custom since ancient times called <Drur>. A married woman from a remote tribe sleeps with a man who has come from far away and becomes pregnant.’
‘Similar customs have been found in several remote regions of Atania. Stol likely developed its own measure to avoid direct inbreeding. Not just anyone from outside can be chosen. The man must be handsome and well-built—in other words, “superior.” <Drur> refers to the eagle that appears in Stol’s traditional myths.’
“That’s the custom called Drur, right? Wow… so the old man’s face actually works in Stol. He must be considered handsome here.”
Wolf sounded genuinely amazed. Silver flinched slightly.
“Well, Ice-Armored Beast isn’t bad if you look at him generously… He’s old now so the popularity faded, but a few years ago women would cling to him wherever he went. But hearing you say that… it sounds like people in Atania don’t think much of him. Do handsome men there have pretty faces?”
“Well, Atania has strong regional differences, so standards of beauty vary. But in most places… the old man wouldn’t be very popular. People in Atania generally like bright expressions. Faces that look good when smiling like this.”
Wolf placed a finger at the corner of his mouth and grinned.
“Maybe it’s a trait of people from warm southern lands. White sunlight, blue seas, palm trees—faces that look relaxed and cheerful suit that kind of scenery. Those are the ones people like.”
“You mean a face like yours?”
Silver said it without taking his eyes off Wolf. Wolf tilted his head toward him.
“Huh? What did you say?”
“You must be popular with girls.”
“What does that mean? Say it in Atanian, Silver.”
“It means faces like that aren’t popular in Stol. Go to sleep.”
Silver pulled the blanket over his head.
For some reason the gesture felt cold. Wolf felt embarrassed. Silver suddenly seemed unfamiliar.
It must be because he remembered that Stol people were supposed to be extremely promiscuous, along with the custom of Drur.
Silver must have… d-d-d-d-done it too, right?
No—why am I stuttering?
It’s nothing unusual. In Atania anyone still a virgin after fifteen gets treated like some mythical fairy regardless of gender. Of course Silver, being from Stol, must have d-d-done it.
Damn it, why am I stuttering again? No one’s even listening…
Let’s just sleep.
Wolf closed his eyes and began counting sheep. Only after enough time had passed for two candles to burn down did sleep finally come.
Was it a dream?
He heard Silver’s voice.
“Attendant. Your father is a good man, isn’t he?”
Even half-asleep, Wolf thought:
Please say it in Atanian…
* * *
“Wolf. Silver is not someone who should be a slave.”
The next day, after Silver left to hunt and Wolf had just started climbing the cave wall again, the Red Eagle Prince suddenly spoke.
“You noticed too, didn’t you? Silver hates taking orders. He’s willful and full of tricks.”
“You’re right, Your Highness.”
Wolf stopped climbing and nodded.
“He’s the type of friend mothers hate their sons hanging out with. But probably very popular among boys our age.”
In the words commonly used by commoner boys, Silver was the kind who “lived exactly how he pleased.”
That mischievous nature had been obvious during their role-playing games. When he played the assault commander, he would seize the ship and raid the liquor storage first. When he played the captain, he pretended to be sick so he wouldn’t have to lead the charge. When he played the strategist, he slipped insects into the captain’s sleeves to torment him.
“Silver has started calling us ‘you guys’ instead of speaking to us like strangers. That means he’s accepted me as a friend too. I think we can start persuading him to join our side. Should we do it today?”
“Well…”
Wolf started to answer enthusiastically but suddenly hesitated.
A chill ran down the back of his neck as if touched by a cold blade. The Red Eagle Prince stepped closer.
“Wolf, what’s wrong? Is something bothering you?”
After a moment of silence, Wolf jumped down from the wall.
“Your Highness. Something’s strange.”
“What is?”
“Why would someone like Silver be a slave? If he wanted to, he could run away right now. There’s no master here.”
“…Ah.”
The Red Eagle Prince swallowed audibly. Wolf clenched his fists.
It was ridiculous that he had only realized something so obvious now.
“What do you think, Your Highness? Why doesn’t Silver run away?”
“Maybe… because escaping would only hurt him? Because he’d suffer serious consequences?”
“So it’s not that he doesn’t run away—it’s that he can’t?”
Wolf thought of the mountain of firewood piled inside the cave. Now that he reconsidered it, the situation felt strange. Someone like Silver doing all that backbreaking labor just because his master ordered it?
“Maybe Black Weasel is holding his family hostage. If Silver runs away, his family dies. With Silver’s personality, I can’t think of any other reason.”
“Then… even if we persuade him, Silver won’t join us.”
“In international diplomacy, hostages are powerful bargaining chips. Silver might have no choice…”
“Damn it! How pathetic!”
The Red Eagle Prince suddenly cursed. Wolf flinched in surprise.
“Your Highness, what’s wrong? Why pathetic?”