I swear I saw it.
In my dream.
I was blinded by a violet light—and I was floating.
The sound thrummed through my skin, louder than the deep ocean, yet quieter than the wind.
It was as if I were in the realm of Limbo.
Then I woke up.
And I couldn’t remember it.
***
146th Day of the Year 1016
The barriers gleamed a lucid, vivid emerald from afar.
Kisatsu stood on the precipice of a small hill, gazing at the landscape he saw every day.
Everywhere he looked, it felt as though the entire world was enclosed by an infinite wall of light.
It was nothing out of the ordinary; he’d always considered it normal.
Whatever lay beyond those barriers—or why they existed—he’d never thought to question.
“You admire the view, Kisatsu?” a voice called from behind.
His older brother, Ryurei, who wore a flat cap and a dark duffled coat, caught him daydreaming at the scenery again.
“You know, you could stare at it all day as long as you know the way back home.
I’m leaving.”
“Wait!” Kisatsu exclaimed, darting toward him.
The two walked along the forest trail, sunlight flickering through the leaves and casting fleeting glows across Kisatsu’s bluish-white hair as they sauntered.
He turned toward the light and squinted, his amethyst eyes catching the brilliance before he flinched.
“Ryurei, you think the sun exists outside the barrier?” Kisatsu asked, his tone tinged with curiosity.
“Well, who knows?” Ryurei replied perfunctorily, not even glancing at him.
“I’m pretty sure Father knows those kinds of things.
Why don’t you go ask them?”
“Why do you think that?
Dad didn’t come from outside the walls, did he?”
“Does it look like he shared a secret like that with me?”
Ryurei turned toward him, a cheeky smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Seems to me that he did,” Kisatsu said.
At his words, Ryurei’s smile softened into a reassuring one before he gently patted Kisatsu’s head.
He seemed willing to tell more stories about it, but the fleeting moment forbade him.
“Let’s talk about that next time.”
“Why are you always like this?
Can’t you just share it with me?” Kisatsu grunted with a furrowed brow.
It wasn’t the first time—it had always been like this: Ryurei teasing Kisatsu about things he wanted to hear.
He always made it seem like he knew more from their father, and Kisatsu only wanted to be part of it.
The yew trees gave way to the mansion perched elegantly in the distance, surrounded by lush, evergreen zoysia.
Their mother stood gracefully in the garden, sprinkling water onto the roses with gentle care.
She turned toward them, her expression uneasy—until she finally saw them.
“Oh, you two!
Can you please stop wandering around so early in the morning?” she grumbled, setting down the watering can and wiping her hands with a towel.
“Seriously, disappearing so suddenly into your rooms—is that your new routine?”
This wasn’t their first time—Kisatsu and Ryurei almost always woke up early each morning, and their mother would end up losing sight of them.
They had lived on the escarpment since Ryurei’s birth, so the entire forest had become nothing but their playground.
There weren’t a place they hadn’t explored, and it almost seemed almost impossible for them to lose their way.
“We only wanted to ask if we may go to the cliff next—we are looking for some other places to relax,” Ryurei said, stopping just short of the garden’s entrance.
“How about your rooms?
Would that not be a better place to relax?” she asked, walking over to them with that same practiced, chiding motion.
“And the cliff again?
I know only a few cliffs nearby, and I believe you have already visited all of them.
Where did you even find a new one?”
Her tone, though soft, still carried a mild displeasure—the kind that surfaced whenever the two brought her nothing but folly.
“It’s not far, Mother—just on the other side of a cliff we’ve been to before,” he replied reassuringly.
“We’ll be back in a few minutes, I promise.
We only want to take a look.”
She glanced between them, eyes narrowing slightly in doubt, then let out a soft sigh.
“Fine.
It’s not as if saying no would stop you from going.
But make sure it’s a place your father can find easily.” Her voice was gentle, laced with motherly firmness.
“Be careful, yes?”
Kisatsu and Ryurei exchanged a gleeful smile, giving each other a knowing nod.
“Alright, we’re going then,” Kisatsu said, turning away as if in a hurry.
“Now, now, you two look hungry,” she murmured, setting her hands to her hips.
“Have you had anything for breakfast yet?
I baked some cupcakes in the kitchen—why don’t you have a little snack before you head off?”
“We can eat later,” Ryurei replied.
“We’re goi—”
“Shush!
Just come inside.” She grabbed them gently by their ears and pulled them into the mansion.
The smell of salted caramel cupcake wove through the air like curling smoke, their softness silently reminding them they were home.
Ryurei’s brow twitched, his steps slowing as Kisatsu walked past him.
He sensed something was wrong, though he couldn’t quite tell what.
The air feels strange, he thought, glancing around as a tense expression crept across his visage.
Come to think of it, ever since I woke up this morning, I’ve been sensing an odd presence.
He strolled down the corridor, each step falling heavier—slower—than the last.
And no—it wasn’t just here; it wasn’t even stronger back in the forest.
Should I tell Father about this?
But when he arrived at the dining hall, the warmth of the place pressed into him.
Kisatsu sat at the table with a carefree expression, while Shione, their mother, was cutting neat slices of the salted caramel cupcakes.
The white apron draped around her like a second skin, one that had been there since he was a child.
Xavior, their father, stepped into the dining hall, clad in a white regal greatcoat and adjusting the cuff of his suit, violet hair styled neatly.
At his sight, Ryurei couldn’t tell whether Xavior was heading to a monarch’s march or some autocratic ceremony—he’d always worn clothes too formal for his own good anyway.
“Already leaving?” Shione asked, setting down a platter of cupcakes on the table with measured care.
“The kids are heading to the cliff later.
Tell them not to go too far.”
“I will only be out for a little while,” he said, straightening his tie that peeked out from beneath his lapel this time.
“You can expect me back in about an hour.”
“You look as though you’ll be out all day in that outfit,” she remarked with a soft chuckle.
“It’ll be quick—you won’t even notice I’m back.”
Ryurei watched them, trying to catch any gestures that might’ve hinted something was wrong, though he hoped he wouldn’t.
Father doesn’t seem to sense anything.
A Rage presence this strong?
Was mother worried because of that?
Regardless, a soft breath eased from him as he set his cap on the top rail of the chair, then sat down.
Slowly, he lifted a small slice of the cupcake to his lips, but made no effort to eat it.
If everything seems normal—if I’m the only one sensing this strange presence…
He glanced quickly at Kisatsu, as if he were the source of it.
“Kisatsu, do you feel anything strange?”
“Strange?” Kisatsu repeated, raising a brow.
“Like what?”
The presence was at its strongest when Ryurei sat beside Kisatsu, but he didn’t suspect anything yet.
He needed it to make sense before he could conclude anything.
“Nothing…
maybe I’m just tired—woke up too early,” Ryurei trailed off, gaze shifting to his spoon.
Kisatsu glanced at him, then a thought came to mind.
“Let’s ask Mom,” he said, standing up to call for Shione.
“No, it’s alright,” Ryurei replied, giving him a sly stare.
“You wouldn’t want them worrying again, would you?
If you tell them I’m feeling dizzy, she won’t let us go to the cliff.”
“Fine.” Kisatsu sat back down, resting his hands on the table.
“But you sure you’re not going to faint out there?” he asked, his tone edged with concern.
“We’re going to be in big trouble if you do—I don’t even know the way back home.”
“It’s fine,” Ryurei answered.
“I’ll just rest for five minutes, then we’ll head off.”
Xavior ambled over to the two.
“So, how was the last cliff?”
Ryurei turned toward him, hesitating to ask Xavior about the strange presence but choosing to let it linger unspoken in his mind.
“Kisatsu was daydreaming as usual,” he said, voice calm and steady.
“Though, I prefer the previous ones—I like the sea more than the mountains.”
“Hey, I was looking at the barriers, not the hills,” Kisatsu muttered.
Xavior turned to him, a warm smile spreading across his face.
“The barriers, hmm?” he asked, resting an elbow on the carved crest of the chair.
“What part of them intrigues you the most, Kisatsu?”
“Well…
they’re inexplicably large and seem to have no end.
I wonder what—or who—might have created such enormous walls,” Kisatsu answered, an undercurrent of passion rising in his tone.
“I can’t imagine what the world beyond them looks like.”
“Would you like to go outside the barriers one day?” Xavior murmured, voice dipping to a low whisper, as if asking for his wish.
“Is that even possible?” Kisatsu asked, a glint of curiosity in his eyes.
“If so, then yes—I certainly would.”
A light chuckle escaped Xavior as he straightened his tie one last time, stepping away from the table before turning back to them.
“Perhaps one day, I will tell you both another story—about them, and about what lies beyond.”
Kisatsu immediately turned to Ryurei with an indignant gaze.
“See?
You did share a secret with Dad!”
Lighthearted giggles burst from them, echoing through the entire hall as if every corner of the mansion could hear.
“I wish I could become a knight like you both,” Kisatsu said, voice carrying a wistful edge.
“Adventuring across various lands while protecting the nation, huh?
That surely sounds heavy, but also fun.”
For a moment, Xavior looked at him with a doleful expression, showing no hint of optimism.
Grim memories that had haunted him resurfaced—and he couldn’t find an answer to Kisatsu’s desire.
“Well, if you ask me, you’d probably turn out a proper Pollyanna of a knight,” Ryurei remarked in a teasing tone.
“Though, you might want to convince Mom about that first.”
Shione had once tols Xavior she wanted at least one of their children to live a normal life, unadulterated by knightly phenomena.
He wasn’t against it—but he certainly didn’t want to dismiss her wish.
Not out of refusal, he said to Kisatsu, “Unfortunately, your mother does not want both of her children to live their lives as knights.
And you know I cannot argue with her, don’t you?” His voice was stern but gentle in a way only he could manage.
“But Kisatsu—if I live long enough to retire and stay with your mother for the rest of my life, you shall have every freedom to become any kind of knight you wish.” He turned toward the door, making the last adjustment to his attire.
“Where are you heading today, Father?” Ryurei asked.
“A conference with the Blutenheim Autocrat requests my presence.”
“Isn’t today a week too early?”
A conference with the island’s ruler—Blutenheim’s Autocrat—took place every month.
Supposedly, attendance was mandatory, but Xavior was granted discretion due to historical implications.
“They have promised to schedule the next conference a week later, for the next month,” Xavior said.
“That sounds rather more considerate of them than what I’ve heard,” Ryurei replied, a hint of discontent coloring his tone.
“Do you dislike the autocrats, Ryurei?” Xavior asked, casting him a glance—not reprimanding or doubtful, just a sincere.
The kind of question that sought to know what Ryurei felt, not merely what he thought.
Ryurei hesitated to answer, as if turning the question over in his mind.
Even then, he couldn’t quite find a definite answer–the title didn’t really mean much to him.
“Can’t really say,” he replied, in that same perfunctory tone he used when things could pass without a hard-sought answer.
“They seem like a bunch of rulers who are called Autocrats only because they are powerful, not because they protect their own lands.”
“Would you…
like to become one?” Xavior asked, voice gentler now.
“…If I were to choose—it’d be to abolish the system of autocracy and replace it with something like autarchy, like the ones in the books.
I believe the autarchs are the ones who should rule over lands.”
“So, gods make better rulers than humans?”
“…Necessarily.” Ryurei’s voice trailed off with uncertainty.
“I see.
I would like to discuss that thought another time,” Xavior said, smoothing his collar in a practiced motion.
“I shall be off.”
He turned and left.
Kisatsu glanced out the window to catch sight of him once more, but Xavior didn’t appear—as if he’d vanished into thin air, the way he always did.
Yet Kisatsu could never prove it.
He turned to Ryurei, giving a knowing nod toward the door.
It was time to head for the next cliff.