Chapter 242: Extra 4 - The Liquor Bottle in the Light of Sunset
In the eastern forest, where lush green vegetation flourished, lay Ausurin.
In that place, surrounded by trees that grew as if they were walls, the laughter of children playing could be heard.
"This isn’t right."
Beneath the World Tree, swaying as if delighting in the sound of children, sat a girl with platinum blonde hair, basking in the sumr sunlight.
"Hmm..."
Her eyebrows, furrowed in concentration, showed a remarkable seriousness.
Sothing was clearly bothering her. She lifted her pencil, asuring the angle like a professional.
However, the paper in front of her was covered only in childlike drawings, a stark contrast to the seriousness on her face.
"I don’t think lips look like that."
Even the World Tree, which leaned over to take a curious look, shook its branches in reaction to her clumsy artistic attempts.
Although the girl was known as the most sensitive priestess to date, it seed her artistic skills left much to be desired.
"Priestess."
"Yes?"
Baradis appeared behind the priestess, who had been deep in thought, trying to figure out what was wrong.
He was dressed in light clothing, suited for a scout accustod to roaming the forest, but the bright emblem on his shoulder confird that he was a mber of the elder council.
"No matter how much it’s sumr, staying outside too long isn’t good for your health."
"No, it’s just..."
The girl, who had abandoned her original na to beco a priestess, seed annoyed that her brother was speaking to her so formally.
However, the affectionate smile Baradis directed at his sister pleased her, so she decided to let it slide.
"When will you go to Sturma? Oh... I an, Lord Baradis."
"To Sturma?"
"There will be a succession ceremony. I think the na was Bayezid."
The priestess of the World Tree was intelligent, but she was still not well-versed in the continent’s political situation.
Her ntioning sothing related to the North so suddenly left Baradis slightly puzzled.
"Why bring that up out of nowhere...?"
The Bayezid family, one of the victors of the continental war.
The succession ceremony for the family’s new head, to be held there, was an event closely watched by not just the North but the entire continent, and Ausurin was planning to send a delegation.
"I would like you to go, Lord Baradis."
"Why?"
The girl’s face looked sowhat uncomfortable as she scratched her chin.
With her head lowered as though embarrassed, the priestess looked around to ensure no one was nearby and gestured for Baradis to co closer.
"I want you to go there, brother."
Just this once, not as the priestess of the World Tree, but as her true self.
Then, with a smile, the girl whispered into Baradis’s ear.
"Because then I could go with you."
"..."
It was her fate to spend her entire life by the World Tree, but this ti, she wanted to venture out.
As if to justify herself, the girl lifted the drawing she had been working on and showed it to Baradis.
"It’s not just that I want to see the outside world. I want to show this to Vlad."
The paper the girl held was full of awkward, ssy drawings.
It was a difficult drawing to interpret, like the old prophecies, but this ti, it didn’t seem to require complex interpretation.
Because even Baradis could imdiately grasp the aning behind that drawing.
"Is it a prophecy...?"
Although the drawing style was the sa, this ti it didn’t need much effort to understand it.
Because even Baradis could decipher it just by looking.
"I think Vlad would like it. Don’t you?"
Even though the children’s ears were different, it was clear they were half-human and elven children playing under the sa tree.
Seeing the girl smiling among those children, Baradis couldn’t help but feel montarily confused, caught between reality and fiction.
***
The highest hill in the city of Soara.
A man walked toward the convent on that hill, carrying various items.
"Wow, why is this so heavy?"
Thud—
A heavy sound echoed on the ground as pieces of red at scattered, showing their vibrant color.
Each of those pieces bore the emblem of the Kannor family, a clear sign that they were high-quality ats, expensive in anyone’s eyes.
"...Who’s there?"
"Marcella, it’s ."
Thanks to the noise he made, a woman erged from the kitchen.
The scarf tightly wrapped around her head concealed her thick black hair.
Her skirt was stained, as if she had been working until just a mont ago.
"Vlad? Is that you, Vlad?"
"It’s been a while, maybe half a year?"
Despite her simple appearance, her smile at Vlad was still as beautiful as ever.
"Well, look who it is! Such an honor to have soone so distinguished in such a humble place!"
"Where should I put this?"
"Oh my, look at all this at. I was just wondering what to feed the children today."
Mada Marcella, once known as the Rose of Soara.
But her smile now was far warr than in those days of splendor, and Vlad found it more comforting than ever.
"I brought at that’s easy to boil. Roasting each piece would be too much work."
"Yes, yes. Always so thoughtful."
With the at in his arms, Vlad followed Marcella’s instructions and entered the kitchen.
The sa kitchen where, years ago, a red-haired girl cried while washing the dishes.
"Oh, Vlad! It’s been so long!"
"Look who’s here! How broad his shoulders are now!"
"Don’t touch him like that! He’s a sword master now!"
The kitchen was filled with won greeting Vlad enthusiastically.
Every hand that reached out to him was familiar, as if the smiles from the past still lingered in this place.
"So, this is where you all ended up."
"We retired, and we didn’t have anywhere else to go."
"It’s better to take care of children than to deal with n."
They were won who once sold laughter and drinks for a gleaming coin.
But now, their smiles were warm and welcoming, sothing money couldn’t buy.
"I’m glad to see you’re all well."
"Co visit us more often, Vlad!"
"Yes, stay a bit at ho! Stop giving Zemina headaches!"
For every word he spoke, he received ten joyful responses.
The kitchen grew louder with the arrival of their old friend until Marcella hurried Vlad out, pulling him by the arm.
"How did you manage to keep the convent? Didn’t the Church object?"
"The Church? I don’t know much about that."
Following Marcella, Vlad stopped before a door on the second floor with a sign that read "Director’s Office."
"I just told the mayor I wanted to use the empty building."
"It was empty?"
"Yes, it’s been vacant for a long ti."
It used to be the mother superior’s office, but now it was the office of the orphanage director.
Vlad rembered the place, where he had once issued threats to the mother superior, and he looked at the old church symbol while pressing his lips together.
"I suppose everyone fled. Naturally, facing a sword master is no easy task."
Marcella laughed, saying she’d never expected the nuns to run away in the middle of the night.
"And if they ever complain, who cares? I’ve donated enough to this place!"
"That’s true."
The forr house of nuns who sold the na of God to the daughters of Soara’s rich.
Now transford into a haven for lost children, Vlad smiled nostalgically as he looked at the place.
"You’re amazing, Marcella. No one else in the North has done anything similar outside the Church."
"I do it because I want to, not because it’s easy."
Though she had saved money, taking care of orphaned children wasn’t sothing anyone could do, let alone a woman on her own.
"So, why don’t you leave a donation before you go, Master Vlad?"
Marcella had accomplished what no one else could. She had built the highest building in the backstreets that no gang leader could have constructed.
"You’re incredible, Marcella."
"Enough flattery, leave so money."
Marcella extended her hands toward Vlad, suggesting he leave sothing for the orphanage.
From the office window, a few children peeked, timidly watching the sword master.
A prostitute who once brought innocent girls to the convent in a harsh winter.
So said she didn’t deserve divine forgiveness, but the place where Marcella smiled was, without a doubt, the closest to God’s will.
Perhaps, this winter, no one would be sitting at the convent entrance.
***
"Why don’t you stay for dinner?"
"No, thanks."
"Has Zemina told you to co back soon?"
"It’s not that, really!"
Despite Marcella’s efforts to keep him there for dinner, Vlad, who already had other plans, left the orphanage quietly.
"I’ll be back soon. I’ll still be here in Soara, after all."
"Alright, co back soon."
Behind Vlad, the children crowded around to say goodbye.
Seeing their bright eyes, so similar to those of the children who used to roam the alleyways, Vlad scratched his chin, thoughtful.
"For now, use this place however you like. I’ll speak with the mayor to make it official."
"Alright."
"And take this."
After a brief hesitation, Vlad took a small pouch from his pocket and handed it to Marcella.
"What’s this?"
"A seed."
Marcella opened the bag, curious, and found an unfamiliar fruit inside.
It glead like a jewel, and anyone who saw it would know it was sothing extraordinary.
"What kind of seed is it?"
"I don’t know; it won’t be clear until it’s grown."
Vlad smiled faintly as he continued speaking.
"Still, I think those seeds will do well here."
"Really?"
A small seed from Ausurin.
Vlad didn’t truly know what the seed Marcella held would beco, but he knew that after a long ti, it would likely grow into sothing like the trees of Dobrechi or Deirmar.
"I’ll be on my way now."
"Alright."
Soone has to plant these green seeds to nurture young potential, like the Sword Master of a previous age who secretly journeyed across the world, or like the woman before
now.
"It’s been a day since I’ve done sothing aningful."
Vlad departed, waving as he gazed at the red sunset descending over the hill.
"I said it was ti to co here."
Vlad walked down from Soara’s highest hill toward the pier, now filled with the scent of fish.
Perhaps because the night’s chill was setting in, a fog began to gather slowly along the river running through Soara.
"Nothing here has changed either."
It was a quiet dock, empty even of workers, as there were no ships coming or going.
Standing alone in this deserted place, Vlad raised his hand to the ever-redder sunset.
"But we can still have dinner together."
Today’s sunset dipped beneath the riverbed.
There was a boat making its way upriver, silhouetted against the sunset.
The boat, with peculiar-looking water wheels on either side of its hull, flew the now-familiar flag of the red rose.
"It’s a little late. Shelter."
Vlad walked along the dock as the sunset deepened.
With a boat gliding alongside him.
In Vlad’s right hand, as he walked this way, a bottle of liquor he’d brought especially for his friend was now stained with the colors of the setting sun.
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