Chapter 292, Please Endure, Older Brother (3)

Translator: Hedge

Editor: Lizzz

 

Pendellia.

 

That was its name. Plants had only just learned it.

 

“Right there, that one. The medicine made from Pendellia.”

 

In the direction Arsene indicated, there was a large plant. Green stems with brown spots, broad leaves with slightly split tips. He had seen it before.

 

He remembered being told that the fruit, green on the outside, pink inside, was not something the one who told him about it had been particularly fond of.

 

“I had received it from Lady Bern to use after sparring with Your Highness. We cannot call for a healer, let alone a physician, so medicine would be better than nothing. You might not have seen Pendellia before, but…”

 

“I know. What it is.”

 

“How would Prince Plants know of something like this.”

 

He had been told: drunk, rolled off a cliff, woke up with it plastered all over him. Plants recalled word for word what Kalian had told him in the Elf City, and quietly answered.

 

“My younger brother told me that on a day when he had drunk too much, he slipped off a cliff and had the occasion to try it.”

 

“…Ah.”

 

Regrettably, Arsene understood the meaning beneath what Plants had so carefully wrapped up in gentle language.

 

Secritia or elsewhere, was the treatment of Royalty so different? Even so, if raw, unprocessed leaves had been applied to a Prince’s body, one could easily imagine what sort of event had preceded it.

 

“Ah… in any case, please use it, Prince Plants.”

 

“Rather than me…”

 

The motion of Estina walking a gentle incline made Plants stop mid-sentence, eyes creasing. A wave of pain had rolled through. Estina was not a rough horse, but it was not Raven, who took care even on paths like these not to jostle its rider.

 

The wound had already stopped bleeding and was slowly closing. But the sensation of torn skin pulling open with every movement was not one that grew familiar.

 

Plants breathed through it for a moment, managing the sharpness, then continued.

 

“My younger brother seems to need it.”

 

“Pendellia contains a mild toxin. It is generally fine, but in his current state, it would do more harm than good.”

 

Plants looked at the medicine bottle Arsene held out with an outstretched arm, then turned away. On Raven, draped forward and unconscious, was one black-haired mad fool.

 

His breathing was already better than when Arsene had first settled Kalian into Raven’s saddle, and the purplish tinge had been slowly receding from his lips. A hangover it would ignore entirely. The damage of pushing a body past its limits, it might only half-resolve. But a wound, a clean physical wound, it repaired properly. That was Syspanian’s Blessing.

 

A moment ago, the image of his younger brother standing against Raven came back to him.

 

A cut on the arm. And one at the waist.

 

Even that was enough to weigh on him like this, and yet how had the man stood there without so much as a frown.

 

Was it stubbornness. Was it ignorance. Was it simply habit.

 

He could not tell.

 

Plants let out a small breath, then briefly opened and closed the hand that lay pale in the moonlight. He spoke, voice quieter than before.

 

“Mage.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“How many Mages could survive an encounter with them.”

 

“You mean Zeon? Perhaps Lady Seiren could manage without difficulty, but the rest of us, including myself, would depend on the situation. You know well that I too nearly died.”

 

[They are that strong.]

 

He could not forget the look in the eyes of the last Zeon Warrior to die. He had stepped forward without knowing it, and Kalian had blocked him before he could raise his blade against the man. But if he had raised it, would he have lived?

 

Perhaps not.

 

Almost certainly not.

 

Plants sat with that thought for a while. Then he extended his uninjured arm toward Arsene.

 

“Give it to me.”

 

“What is it you want?”

 

“The crystal panel.”

 

“…How did you know I had it?”

 

Arsene, saying this and producing the allegedly expensive crystal panel, then recalled that Plants had no Mage’s satchel, and put it away again.

 

“I will give it to you when we return.”

 

“Don’t use it.”

 

“I was wondering why you were asking for a large crystal panel with nowhere to put it right now. Surely you don’t think I would just use it on my own whim?”

 

‘Though using it does not wear it out,’ said the expression Arsene was directing at him. Plants replied.

 

“You already used it.”

 

Arsene’s mouth closed quietly.

 

After a moment of looking toward Kalian, more precisely, of gauging Kalian’s reaction, Arsene asked in a near-whisper.

 

“How did you know I used the crystal panel?”

 

“I would rather it had not been used to summon Marquis Manasil.”

 

Conversing with Plants was very difficult.

 

He had asked how he knew, and received something entirely different.

 

Arsene worked through it slowly, came to understand, the hard way, that Plants was already fully aware Arsene had contacted Rerik with the crystal panel and spoken with Allan before coming to help the Princes, and was asking about it knowing all of that.

 

“I am afraid to drink water in front of Prince Plants. I feel as though from me drinking a glass you could determine what I ate three days ago.”

 

Even through the pain, Plants did not miss that Arsene had returned to calling him Prince Plants. There was only one reason Arsene would tuck his tail in like that in front of Plants.

 

Through Allan, he had already been relieved of his position as Deputy Commander.

 

“One would think it more surprising that you thought I wouldn’t know.”

 

“I only dropped my rank. I can’t go around apprehending people in here as a soldier.”

 

Unlike Euria, who acted regardless of circumstance, Arsene was the sort who read the situation before apprehending anyone. So before joining the fight, he had paused to contact Allan briefly. The carriage that Syspanian designed, that the Commander adjusted, where Coco has been making wonderfully comfortable use of…

 

That was all it took. Allan had stripped Arsene of his rank on the spot, and Arsene had returned quietly as nothing more than a blue-haired mad Mage loosely attached to Valkan.

 

“It seems Marquis Manasil has also sensed that something happened, but said he would not come here. He mentioned he thought he might lose his temper considerably if he did, so I told him things were still manageable and asked him to wait.”

 

“Right.”

 

Plants answered briefly and went quiet again. Partly because Estina shifted its body more significantly as they began to descend, and partly because he had grown absorbed in thought.

 

Arsene, watching him, let his gaze drift to Sinnastar.

 

He had not been able to see it before, as the blade had always been in its scabbard. But he had seen it a short while ago. He had seen the inscription along the pale blue blade in Kalian’s hand.

 

Thinking of it now made his chest strangely heavy.

 

What on earth had happened in the past that he had so carefully inscribed on that short-tempered Prince’s sword.

 

“It doesn’t matter.”

 

Out of nowhere, Plants said this. His willow-green eyes had turned, without his noticing, and were fixed steadily on Arsene.

 

“Whoever wrote it. Whatever happened. Right now…”

 

“…Did you know it is my handwriting?”

 

“More or less.”

 

He answered in exactly those terms, and closed his eyes.

 

It hurt. And he did not much feel like explaining.

 

A soundless sigh escaped Arsene’s lips as he looked at Plants for a moment.

 

“I didn’t think it likely that he would have given just anyone such a name to engrave. So, I thought about it. I wondered whether there might not have been anyone else nearby at the time. If there had been someone, and a blue-haired mad Mage had apparently stayed until the very end, I thought it might well have been that same blue-haired mad Mage.”

 

But then Plants, who had seemed unlikely to answer at all, continued to speak.

 

It was not that he had recognised Arsene’s handwriting. But the Plants of the past, when no one had stood beside him, and Arsene, who had apparently stayed to the very end, he had thought that at least something like that would have been asked of him. It was a vague guess. But Arsene’s reaction when he looked at Sinnastar today had confirmed it.

 

“And I thought, how parched a life must one have lived, to have written something like that with someone like this…”

 

Arsene, who had been on the verge of looking at Plants with an expression that might have been called briefly tender, quickly caught himself.

 

Knowing full well the meaning within those words, yet having nearly been convinced by the inscription on the sword, whose author he had now identified, to seriously consider discarding it, Plants looked down at the blade again. The pain from the wound made him wince slightly. He did not see Arsene’s face arrange itself into the expression of a man who has just bitten into Coco’s droppings.

 

‘I didn’t exactly choose to stand at your side’ was the kind of thing that, if said aloud, might constitute going against the Royal Family. It was enough to get one dismissed from Valkan. But then again, Arsene thought a proper Mage’s life should include at least having one’s statue erected before being dismissed. So, he let it go.

 

Plants caught that expression and smiled faintly. Arsene made a disgruntled noise.

 

“You can smile at a time like this.”

 

“I can. Why.”

 

“Even though the blue-haired mad Mage who apparently followed you everywhere no longer does so.”

 

“Doesn’t matter.”

 

Arsene knew what was meant by those words.

 

Once, there had at least been Arsene nearby. But now, not even that. No one was standing alongside him. Yet Plants was completely fine with this. That was the question, as the Knight of Secritia had said, as have Kalian worried over.

 

“I have Luci and Anne. Why.”

 

Had he ever especially wanted someone close by, that might have been a different answer. But not once had he found the lack of it something to regret, and so he answered in these terms.

 

One attendant who wept over every little thing and trailed after him, and Valkan, who renewed their capacity for chaos every single day as though updating a record, were more than enough. A black cat who barked daily and tried to bite when crossed was already too much, what would he want to do with a blue-haired mad Mage nearby? He would be nothing but headaches.

 

Having given his honest answer, Plants looked ahead.

 

In the distance, a small palace set within a vast garden began to come into view.

 

* * *

 

A bird was much faster than words.

 

Much had happened, but not much time had passed. So, it was still the middle of the night. Even so, when they arrived at Louise’s villa, about ten people came quietly out to receive the three of them. Chase’s message had apparently arrived before Kalian’s party.

 

The Knights laid Kalian on a stretcher and carried him to a bedchamber. With Arsene watching over everything with both eyes wide open, both Kalian and Plants received something in the way of treatment.

 

Something in the way of treatment, because though they had been told these were trusted people under Chase’s trusted person’s authority, full trust had not been extended to them, and so neither medicine given nor applied was used. Plants used only what Arsene had brought, and Kalian was not permitted even that much until the detoxification was fully complete.

 

“Is there anything else you need, Prince Plants.”

 

“…Bananas.”

 

“Bananas, you say?”

 

“Lots.”

 

After that, he had a good number of bananas piled beside the bed. It was naturally for whenever Kalian might wake. He then moved to the window on the far side of the room from where Kalian lay. Until Kalian woke, or until more of Kalian’s people arrived from the Royal Palace, Arsene would have to manage the watch alone, and so neither of them could comfortably settle into their own rooms.

 

‘I’m also hurt, but he’s more hurt, so I can’t rest properly’ this was their current situation. But since it was a situation of his own making, he decided not to hold any particular grievance over it.

 

*Saaaa…*

 

A truly quiet place, where the sea could be seen in the far distance.

 

The highest floor’s room had one wall made entirely of glass. Standing before it and looking out for a while, he heard the sound of branches brushing in the wind. He was listening quietly to that sound when something caught his eye in the dark.

 

*Gleam.*

 

A blue light.

 

In one corner of the wide garden, a blue light was circling.

 

It did not seem like a Mage’s light. He did not know what it was, and watched for a long time. The blue light gathered on one side, then gradually spread as though seeping outward. And in not too long at all, the entire garden was glowing softly blue.

 

It did not take long to understand what it was. The swirling clusters of blue light began to drift upward, scattering like light seeds carried on a breeze into the sky.

 

In this place, a garden planted entirely with flowers in someone’s memory, what bloomed for a second time beneath the moonlight was transforming into blue light and was rising.

 

“It’s Sinnastar.”

 

Yes.

 

It was Sinnastar.

 

Plants turned.

 

The one who had not been able to wait, and had pushed himself upright, was looking out through the glass.

 

“Why.”

 

“I just woke.”

 

A cracked voice came out.

 

Plants knew well enough, that this was a person who could only sleep properly with Allan or Kyrie nearby, or when lying in his own room in Chermil Palace. So, he simply nodded.

 

“The blood…”

 

“Stopped. Feeling is returning to my waist as well.”

 

“Right.”

 

Syspanian’s Blessing, which had continued working faithfully even after being pushed past its limits like that, had finished its detoxification. It had begun repairing the wounds.

 

[My back is aching though.  Seems like I did get hit there after all…] Kalian thought with a dry sort of amusement, and glanced around briefly. Then he stopped. And held his breath for a moment.

 

“Did Chase happen to be the one who told you of this place?”

 

“He said it was Royal Consort Louise’s villa. Is it not somewhere you know?”

 

Kalian raised his palm and covered his face.

 

Laughter escaped him.

 

“How could I not.”

 

Even without Sinnastar’s blue light, there was enough to see by in the room.

 

A plain black sheet. Dark grey curtains. Deep brown furniture with no sheen. Not a single frame, not a single vase. It was a bare and sparse room. The room that had been there, the last time he visited, was exactly as it had been.

 

He had thought it would be gone by now. Apparently not.

 

“…It’s my room.”

 

Queen Diena’s villa.

 

And within it, the room that had been made for Bern.

 

Kalian, who had come face to face with the traces of a Bern who had not lived this life, let his laughter continue for quite some time.

 

Chase would have debated a long while over whether to give Kalian this room. He would have worried about the injury, and worried too that perhaps this place might make him melancholy. And yet, he had directed them to this villa regardless, had put Kalian in this particular room regardless. It was all because Kalian understood why that laughed.

 

“Perhaps my name’s meaning was not entirely wrong, after all.”

 

Plants looked at Kalian quietly.

 

“Will you tell me now, if I ask.”

 

He moved to shrug, and stopped as his back flared. Kalian opened his mouth again.

 

“No. If I’m not telling you your name’s meaning, why would I tell you my old name’s meaning.”

 

“…Right.”

 

Kalian caught the momentary flash of irritation on that face and smiled faintly. He looked out at the garden.

 

“Amusing, though.”

 

“What is.”

 

“Lord Hertz said something to me. That I had fought enough, that I should rest now. And Kyrie had told me not to stop. I cannot understand how two people can be so different in temperament and say such opposite things.”

 

Plants did not answer. Instead, a small, cracked, tired voice continued.

 

“When Lord Hertz came just a while ago, I was so glad to see him. And as I was standing there looking at him, a thought occurred to me. That perhaps even last time, I had been waiting for Lord Hertz to come. Because the words ‘not to stop’ were something I truly found both joyful and grievous. And at the words ‘rest now’, I found them grievous, and yet in the same moment, joyful.”

 

These were words dropped now before Plants. Perhaps something like a complaint, but underneath them: it was truly exhausting, with so much to bear.

 

“And that too was amusing to me. That in the end, in this land, I have now waited for Lord Hertz twice. And yet how entirely different the reasons were.”

 

“…Right.”

 

Kalian’s voice was slowly growing heavier with sleep.

 

“That said, it doesn’t mean what happened was good.”

 

“I know.”

 

“The same thing won’t happen twice.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Stop worrying needlessly and rest. There will be no war over this, not this time. I won’t allow it.”

 

“…Informal speech.”

 

“I was this badly hurt because of you. Won’t you overlook even that?”

 

Plants said nothing. His brow furrowed slightly instead.

 

Kalian had won one instance of informal speech in exchange for one wound. He laughed again, quietly.

 

The blue clusters of light rippled across Kalian’s face as they rose toward the sky. Kalian lay back down in the familiar-smelling bed, and fell quickly into sleep. Kyrie was not there. Allan was not there. And yet he slept well.

 

Only a few hours later…

 

—The Secritia soldiers who had gone into Brigit Forest are all dead.

 

Plants received that message from Chase, and went to wake the sleeping younger brother.