He turned at my voice with startled eyes. I immediately grabbed both of Margon’s shoulders and busily checked his body.
“Ah, Ceryl. Why on earth—”
“Any wounds? Are you hurt? Did something dangerous happen?”
“Dangerous? I’m fine, so calm down.”
Margon backed away as if bewildered and freed himself from my hands.
I finally let out a ragged breath and looked around. I had clearly heard the sound of a blade slicing through the air and assumed an enemy had appeared.
What stood in the clearing with Margon, though, was Kallen Rossein, her face flushed red.
It wasn’t an unusual sight to see the two of them together, but it was nothing like what I had suspected.
“What were you two doing?”
Would there be any reason to be swinging swords with only Margon and Kallen together? At least by my logic, I couldn’t picture such a scene.
Kallen fidgeted with her hands behind her back and mumbled. Margon stepped forward first and laughed heartily.
“Ahaha! I was stiff, so I was practicing swordplay after a long time! Uahaha!”
“Y-yes! I was just watching Margon practice! Just watching!”
Their answers felt suspicious. I narrowed my eyes and glanced between them, then shifted my gaze to Varen Dravergh.
Varen only shrugged his shoulders as if it had nothing to do with him.
I pressed a hand to my pounding chest and let out a deep breath. Sweat beaded on my brow and I wiped it away.
Kallen’s and Margon’s safety had always unnaturally occupied my thoughts; mentioning Leobin earlier had left me more on edge than usual.
After the short run my fatigue hit me all at once. I waved my tired hand and said to Margon,
“Margon, I need to ask you something. About Leobin.”
At the mention of his close friend, Margon’s face stiffened. Kallen, who had been standing with her hands clasped behind her back, turned away and retreated without showing her back.
“W-well, talk then. I have things to do!”
She bolted away before I could grab her, and her sudden flight seemed certainly suspicious. It looked like she was hiding something, but there was no time to pay attention to Kallen.
“This is going to be a long story.”
Margon, speaking in a hoarse voice, flopped down on the ground. His shaggy-bearded face was already damp.
***
Margon, Varen Dravergh, and I sat around a small campfire far from the tents. The twigs scattered in the forest caught flame quickly even with the dragon’s small puff of breath.
The three of our faces were painted orange by the firelight. I dislike repeating what I’d already asked, but I asked the question again.
“Margon, think carefully. You said you lived with the Aylos for years.”
“The lodging where I stayed was far from the main hall. If it weren’t for you, Ceryl, I could count on one hand the times I met anyone from the House of Aylos.”
“Among those few meetings, was there anyone memorable? Or did anyone from the kingdom come and go?”
“If they were that high-ranking, I wouldn’t have met them at all.”
Margon furrowed his brow as if frustrated with himself, so his words seemed true.
I buried my face in my palms and sighed deeply. Margon stared into the blazing fire and said,
“The one who cast the magic on Leobin—I do not know their name. However...”
Margon trailed off and glanced at me.
“When Leobin was offered that magic, he said he had spent the whole night talking with you, Ceryl.”
A sense of powerlessness washed over me again at Margon’s words. I had tried to find a role for myself, but each attempt felt like it collapsed.
If the original Ceryl had been sitting here instead of me, perhaps he would have spat out useful information. I bit my lip in despair and kept my eyes down.
Varen Dravergh, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke.
“If we go back to the forest and exhume the yellow-haired man’s corpse, we might learn more.”
“What? Absolutely not.”
I shook my head firmly. The thought of digging up Leobin’s body made me want to shout in anger—what right did we have to disturb his rest?
Varen snorted as if he had expected my reaction.
“Then we’ll have to go look for answers ourselves. I don’t want that horrific curse to become the king’s weapon either.”
I agreed with that wholeheartedly.
Since I opened my eyes in this world in the body of Ceryl Aylos, I had constantly suspected the true nature of the House of Aylos. But I had never gone to investigate.
There had always been life-or-death emergencies, and seeking the truth was pushed down the priority list every time.
More than that... I simply didn’t want to. Without a proper reason, I felt an inexplicable aversion.
It felt as if the instinct lodged in Ceryl’s body resisted with all its might.
Proving my suspicion, even the idea of visiting the House of Aylos made my hands tremble. Even in the absence of any threat and with pleasant weather.
I crossed my arms to hide my shaking hands. Margon stared at the campfire with an unusually serious face.
“I thought it was just a spell to prevent betrayal of Ceryl. But... I was shortsighted. If that were the true purpose, they would have cast it on all the household servants.”
Margon’s face twisted in pain.
He bore great guilt that his closest friend had been used in experiments.
“Damn it. If I’d known, I should have stopped him somehow. Who’d have thought a fellow who’d never even set foot in the palace would be used as the king’s test subject...”
I looked at Margon and moved closer to pat his shoulder. His broad shoulder—too large for my hand—shuddered as he sobbed like a child.
I patted Margon’s back for a long time, but Varen Dravergh showed no reaction.
When I looked at him in puzzlement, he sat quietly, lost in thought.
“Varen, what are you thinking about?”
“My thoughts about you.”
“......”
I couldn’t respond to that out of place remark and turned my gaze away.
But what came from Varen’s mouth wasn’t what I had expected.
“Why did he use the name Ceryl Aylos?”
Varen, who had been staring at the fire, turned to face me. The flames seemed to flicker inside his blue eyes.
“My mother told me: Aylos was the family that first hunted dragons, but a hundred years ago they were wiped out by the king.”
“...Continue.”
“A hundred years ago the king feared the House of Aylos would become a power greater than himself. So he tracked down their descendants for a hundred years and killed them all.”
His words brought to mind what Ordin had let slip earlier.
‘Yes. The last descendant of Aylos died a hundred years ago. For humans that’s more than enough time for a bloodline to end.’
That remark had been when we first arrived in Beljena. Preparing for the coming war was the priority then, so I had let Ordin’s words pass.
Now the puzzle pieces seemed to fit together. There was still a long way to complete the picture, but at least I could see which pieces were missing.
“King Laskar knew Ceryl Aylos.”
“Yes. And Ceryl did not hide his family name.”
Varen and I met each other’s eyes in the dark air. The same question occurred to both of us and we looked at each other with hardened faces.
If the king had been obsessive enough to hunt down descendants to extinction, one would expect the name Aylos to be concealed. Yet Ceryl had openly used the name at the Fifth Management Facility.
Why? What truth about Ceryl was I unaware of?
If the order to exterminate the House of Aylos was a matter of previous reigns, had the situation changed once King Laskar took power?
If not, then what on earth...
“Um... sorry to interrupt, but it’s late.”
Margon spoke in a tired voice, breaking the chain of thoughts. When I looked up, the full moon hung in the night sky.
Another frantic day had passed. I wanted to collapse from accumulated fatigue and mounting mysteries, but I couldn’t.
I gave Margon a weary smile.
“Good work, Margon. Go on in now.”
“Won’t you come along, Ceryl?”
“I’ll manage. Don’t worry.”
If I went into the men’s communal tent, the dragon beside me would stay awake with his eyes open. Rather than letting him watch me sleep with blue light in the dark, I chose to keep him company through the night.
Margon grumbled, getting to his feet.
“I left {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} your bed ready, Ceryl. Come in anytime and sleep comfortably.”
“Okay, got it. Thanks.”
Margon deliberately emphasized the word ‘comfortably’ toward Varen as if scolding him for making the Ceryl uncomfortable.
Naturally, Varen—oblivious to human social cues—only stared at the campfire with an indifferent expression.
