Elodie was lost in thought when it happened.
“Chik chiiik. (This way, please.)”
A harvest mouse knight, seemingly inford in advance, took the lead.
To avoid trampling the delicate dwellings of the tiny mice underfoot, they walked along a carefully paved path that followed the fortress walls.
They had taken about ten steps when a grand castle, standing at the height of the Duke himself, ca into view.
“Oh…”
So this was the High Priest’s castle. The sight of it made her heart feel inexplicably small.
Rather than evoking trust or reverence, it only made her want to shield and protect it.
‘Could it be that Ratson is just a mascot?’
Most deities had symbolic animals associated with them.
If harvest mice were the sacred animal of the god, then it was only natural that Ratson had beco the High Priest.
As Elodie entertained this reasonable suspicion, a door, barely the size of a palm, swung open.
From within, a pair of harvest mice erged, clad in white silk robes embroidered with gold.
Elodie recognized them imdiately.
They were the High Priest and his spouse.
Her parents.
‘Parents…’
She had never even dared to hope for such a thing.
For soone who had spent every day simply trying to survive, the concept of family had always been a luxury beyond reach.
Instead of daydreaming about whether she had blood relatives sowhere, she had needed to risk her life scavenging for food.
So now, she had no idea how to react.
Because she had never once imagined this mont.
As Elodie fidgeted restlessly, unable to keep her gaze fixed on one spot—
“Chik…!”
The harvest mouse couple trembled, their whiskers quivering, tears brimming in their eyes.
Then they ran straight toward her.
Their golden crowns nearly slipping from their heads.
“W-Wait— Ah!”
Startled, Elodie reflexively extended her hands to catch the rushing Ratson couple.
They landed neatly in her palms.
Their tiny faces were soaked in tears.
With trembling limbs, they clung tightly to the child’s thumb, their tiny paws squeezing as they let out a series of desperate squeaks.
“Chik, chiiik… (My child, my child…)”
Their warmth spread through Elodie’s fingers, thawing the cold that had settled there.
Her palms grew damp.
“…”
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