Yuto and Sariel traveled simply. They had neither horse nor carriage. Sariel insisted on walking on her own two feet and entrusted all her luggage to Yuto.
“Why do you not wear shoes?”
Yuto asked as he followed Sariel with a large pack on his back. Just as when they first met, Sariel walked barefoot.
“Because the earth feels pleasant beneath This One's feet. Do not imitate her. If you injure your feet, This One will have to carry you on her back.”
Perhaps eccentric was the right word. Sariel was mysterious in many ways. Even the name she gave was an alias, and she refused to say how old she was or what she had done before meeting Yuto.
‘Half elf......’
Proud elves did not form relationships with other races. To begin with, those of mixed blood had nothing to gain in this world. They belonged to neither side, and the constellations high above offered no blessings to them.
“Boy, you shall decide where we sleep tonight.”
On the first day of their journey, Sariel abruptly spoke while watching the setting sun.
“Me?”
“Yes. Many kinds of knowledge are necessary to survive in this fucked-up world. Admittedly, exceptional personal might will resolve most problems, but strength alone cannot solve everything.”
Sariel shook her bottle as she continued.
“Sleeping arrangements are a prime example. You could swing your sword until your balls fall off in the wilderness, but would that make a house appear? At your age, you must eat well and sleep soundly if you wish to grow.”
Sariel did not teach him only how to wield power. She taught him how to find water, distinguish what was edible from what was not, read the patterns of the wind, find a safe place to spend the night, conceal his presence, and sense the presence of others. She taught him everything he needed to survive.
“Learning to wield power and grow stronger is important, but so is staying alive for a long time. Most beings who live long are strong.”
“Like you, Lady Sariel?”
“You insolent thing. Mentioning a woman's age―do you wish to die?”
Yuto absorbed Sariel's teachings like a sponge. No, more precisely, Yuto dimly knew all of it already. Rather than ‘learning’ from Sariel, her lessons made the things he had once known ‘resurface.’
Whether finding waterways or choosing a campsite, Sariel would explain half, and Yuto would naturally fill in the rest.
“Well, look at you.”
Sariel laughed as she surveyed the campsite Yuto had chosen. It lay with the wind at their backs and water nearby but not too close, while a boulder behind them reduced their blind spots.
“You chose well, as though you were accustomed to the field. Have all your memories already returned?”
“No. It merely feels... as though this is not my first time doing something like this.”
His memories continued to return. Yuto had been the king of Belkain, but he had spent more time roaming outside than within the royal castle.
He remembered the ‘battlefield’ in particular. That was only natural, considering he had slain every member of the Eclipse......
“This One grows ever more curious about your past. Just what manner of fellow were you?”
Sariel stared at Yuto, her lone eye sparkling, but he did not answer.
He could not. I am actually the king of Belkain, which was supposedly destroyed three years ago, and I returned to the past from the distant future. Even to Yuto, the claim made no sense. How could he possibly say it aloud? Nor could he trust Sariel completely enough to reveal such a truth.
‘Sariel wants something from me.’
Whatever it was, her kindness was not without cost. Sariel was strange in many ways and possessed countless secrets. For one thing, she had yet to ask Yuto any specific questions about his Void Skills.
“Lady Sariel.”
Yuto decided to address the question head-on. Sariel, who was lighting the firewood he had gathered, glanced up with her lone eye.
“What do you think my power is?”
“Who can say? Magic?”
Sariel answered with a smirk. She looked down at the spark she had kindled on the firewood and continued.
“Hmm. This One answered, but even she finds the idea absurd. You possess a fair amount of aether, but not enough to use magic like that. Besides, boy, your power lies far outside the bounds of magic.”
“......”
“That leaves only one conclusion: a Constellation's authority. But you are not a noble, are you?”
“No. I never possessed such a power in the first place. It manifested for the first time...... when I escaped the Colosseum.”
“When you first met This One. Hmm, how peculiar. Perhaps some Constellation took an interest in your survival against Crimson...... and turned its attention to you.”
Sariel chuckled and sat before the campfire.
“That too would be absurd, but as This One said before, the constellations are capricious. They are the ones who decided to bless only nobles, so they might make an exception whenever the mood strikes them.”
“Is... that so?”
“How else could it be explained? It is more reasonable to attribute it to a constellation's whim. A gladiator in an underground colosseum who did not even know who he was encountered Crimson Ringmistress, was the sole survivor, and received an invitation. The constellations could certainly find such a tale interesting. They feed upon the stories of living beings.”
“They feed on stories?”
“Yes. Why do you think the constellations look down upon Callisto from the heavens? What else could relieve the boredom of beings that live for eternity?”
Sariel's lone eye grew bleak. Night had already fallen, and stars filled the sky. She glared up at them as she continued.
“If Callisto is the stage for a vast story, then the constellations are spectators who watch and enjoy it. It is not so different from the colosseum where you lived.”
Yuto's head began to throb. He knew the story Sariel was telling all too well. It was not that he understood her colosseum metaphor. He had known it since his previous life―known it very, very well.
“When they find someone entertaining, they watch. When that person turns twelve, they form a contract. They observe that life, and if it pleases and amuses them, they bestow stronger blessings. Every actor upon the stage they watch is a noble―but from time to time, an exceptional figure emerges among those who are not.”
As she spoke, Sariel lowered her gaze to Yuto.
“Well, it is all conjecture. This One cannot tell whether your power stems from a Constellation. This One has never contracted with one...... and in truth, your power is far too alien even to be called a Constellation's authority.”
“......”
“You do not properly understand it yourself. For now, is that not enough?”
Yuto stared at Sariel and considered her words. In many ways, it was a reasonable theory.
“Have you been bewitched by This One's beauty? She understands, but when you stare so intently, surely even This One grows embarrassed?”
Sariel smiled and opened her bottle. Yuto cleared his throat softly and looked away.
‘So that is enough... is it?’
She had not questioned him first, and now she offered this theory. It felt as though Sariel was deliberately avoiding his ‘power.’ That made it all the stranger that she was so actively teaching him how to wield it.
‘I do not know what you want from me... but as I am now, I have no reason to refuse.’
Yuto stared into the campfire and thought. If Sariel intended to use him for some purpose, then Yuto could use Sariel in the same way.
For now, there was nothing else he could do.
*
On the seventh day of their journey, Sariel and Yuto crossed Balistera's border and stopped at a small village.
It was so small that its name did not appear on the map. It held perhaps twenty houses, several fields, and one old well. They had only stopped briefly to replenish Sariel's liquor, yet the villagers welcomed the outsiders with bright smiles.
“You have arrived on a fortunate day. Come and celebrate with us.”
The villagers took Sariel and Yuto by the hands before they could leave.
“A wedding.”
Sariel murmured. People had gathered in an open space at the center of the village. There was nothing luxurious about it. Woven wild grasses hung as decorations instead of gold and jewels, and the villagers clapped out the rhythm in place of musicians. The bride's dress had been passed down so many times that it was worn and frayed at the hem, while the groom's clothes hung loosely from his body.
“Waaaaah!”
Even so, everyone was smiling. Cheers erupted when the groom took the bride's hand, and when someone began a clumsy song, everyone joined in. Children ran around the couple, and the elders watched through tears with contented smiles.
Yuto stood beside the well and stared blankly at the scene. The brightly smiling bride and groom kissed.
At that moment, his heart ached.
‘Huh...?’
It was not a headache. His aether was not about to run rampant. It was entirely unlike the skull-splitting pain that had come whenever something stirred his memories.
Aching, heavy, warm......
Longing.
‘I also...’
Without realizing it, Yuto looked down at his palm.
‘I held someone's hand... just like that.’
He was certain. He could not recall her face, but his palm remembered. It remembered the delicate hand that fit so neatly within his own, and the overwhelming emotion he felt when he held it.
‘Who was she...?’
Yuto desperately searched his memories. In his previous dream, he had seen his past. He had remembered being the king of a nation, a hero, a husband―and a father. Yet the only emotions that faint memory had stirred were rage and hatred at the horror he witnessed at the dream's end. He had felt nothing like this.
But now, the sight of their wedding sent his emotions surging. Yuto desperately searched his memories. Ignoring even the headache, he tried to recall the owner of that hand.
He heard laughter. The same laughter from his dream, too blurred to understand, yet once the most precious voice in the world.
And the tiny weight that had nestled in his arms.
‘My family. My wife and daughter.’
The bride and groom smiled at each other. The villagers showered them with wildflower petals. The song of blessing continued. Yuto took it all in.
This was a world where constellations looked down from the heavens, nobles treated people as slaves, and monsters slaughtered on a whim. That was the Callisto Yuto had seen since his return. Prisons, colosseums, blood, and death.
Yet even in such a world, this could blossom. A small happiness made of an old dress, woven grass, and a clumsy song―
‘Ah......’
The sight dazzled him. The past he had been tracing overlapped with the present.
“Do you envy them?”
A voice came from beside him. Sariel stood with her hands clasped behind her back, watching the same scene as Yuto.
Yuto could not answer. It hurt too much to call it envy, yet he could not tear his eyes away and deny it.
“You are allowed to envy them.”
Sariel spoke quietly.
“Whether it is something you never possessed or something you lost.”
Leaving those words behind, Sariel walked away first. Yuto remained there a little longer and turned only when the villagers surrounded the bride and groom, hiding them from view.
The song of blessing followed him from behind until he left the village.
That night, Yuto dreamed again.
Was it because of the wedding he had seen that day? The dream was clearer than the last.
He heard laughter. A warm hand held Yuto's. A tiny weight nestled in his arms, and that little being looked up at him and babbled something.
He was happy.
So happy that his heart might burst. And that was why he was afraid. He knew what would come next.
The dream turned red. The song of blessing became screams. The hand that had been warm grew cold and fell limp against the floor. The tiny weight that had rested in his arms was borne away in someone else's embrace.
Yuto reached out but could not touch them. He screamed their names, yet those names never reached his own ears.
Yuto staggered through the blood-soaked underground of the royal palace. Blood marked his footsteps. His hand slipped where he braced it against a wall. Blood streamed without end from the wound through his chest.
Still, he walked. He could not stop. If he collapsed here, everything would end. And if it ended―he would be unable to take revenge. Unable to reclaim what had been stolen. Then what of what had vanished? What of what he had lost? What of what had died before his very eyes?
‘What did I lose?’
He walked and walked until his knees finally buckled. As Yuto collapsed, the stars above him laughed. They cackled, clapped, and cheered.
“Hah......!”
Yuto opened his eyes. The night sky was filled with the stars he hated. He glared at them, then slowly pushed himself upright. Cold sweat soaked his entire body, and his heart still raced as though trapped in the dream.
CRACKLE, POP.
The campfire crackled. Sariel sat on its far side with a bottle resting on her knee. She watched Yuto wake, then spoke.
“Drink some water first.”
Sariel tossed him a waterskin. Panting, Yuto took a mouthful. As the cold water ran down his throat, the dream's remnants gradually washed away.
“Are you not sleeping?”
“This One requires little sleep.”
Sariel calmly tilted her bottle as she answered, but Yuto knew. Not once since their journey began had he slept peacefully. He always suffered the same nightmare, and whenever he awoke from it, Sariel was awake. There had not been a single exception.
“Another fucked-up dream, it seems.”
Sariel murmured with a faint smile.
“A dream of your past?”
“...Yes.”
“Hmm. After surviving that hell, of course every memory that returns would be a nightmare.”
Sariel tilted her bottle again.
“This One travels with you in hopes of restoring your memories, but a thought has occurred to her. If your past truly consists of dreams so painful and dreadful that you cannot even sleep in peace, is there any need to remember it?”
Sariel lowered the bottle and studied Yuto.
“Perhaps it would be better to erase such a past entirely. Whatever happened before, you are alive now, are you not? If you truly wished it, This One could help ensure that you never recall that past again.”
“No. There is no need.”
Yuto answered through clenched teeth.
“I must never... forget this past. I have to remember it.”
“Why? They are painful memories, are they not? Boy, you are still young. If you survived that hell, would it not be better to forget the past and find happiness from this moment onward?”
“I cannot do that.”
Yuto clenched his trembling hand.
“Because the memories are... far too happy to forget. I must never forget them.”
“Are you saying the happiness of your past matters more than the happiness you may find in the future?”
“Any happiness gained by forgetting that past would be meaningless. And... And I do not desire happiness.”
“Then what do you desire?”
“Revenge.”
Sariel's lone eye narrowed at the word. After a brief silence, she spoke.
“Revenge. Against whom?”
“Against those who made my past so painful.”
“Ahaha......”
Sariel gave a low laugh.
“Boy, you are cursed. Your past has become a terrible curse that holds you captive.”
“......”
“This One will not say you are wrong. Everyone is held captive by something. The same is true of her.”
Sariel slowly rose, approached Yuto, and dropped down beside him. Then she stroked his sweat-soaked hair several times.
“Though it seems you still cannot remember whom you must take revenge upon.”
After stroking his head for another moment, Sariel forced Yuto to lie across her lap.
“Revenge requires strength. So sleep for now. You must rest well if you wish to grow stronger.”
Yuto gazed up at Sariel with unfocused eyes. It had already been a week since he began traveling with her.
Throughout that time, his impression of Sariel had not changed. She was a mysterious and suspicious woman with many secrets. A woman who showed him kindness because she wanted something and intended to use him.
‘Just what do you desire so badly...?’
She had called it a debt. She had said she would collect a price someday. Yet things that those words could not explain kept accumulating. The nights she watched over his nightmares. The food she pressed into his hands, insisting that it came from an adult and that he needed it to grow. The hand that tousled his hair. The warmth against his head.
If he asked, she would only give him the same answer as before.
Yuto swallowed the question and closed his eyes.