novelraw Chapter 59 : Chapter 59
Chapter 59 : Chapter 59
Chapter 59: The Funeral of Things (3)
“Go slowly, Monika!”
Small footprints were engraved in the undergrowth.
A young Monika was running through the forest. With her short body, she pushed through the branches,
“Hurry up, Dad!”
She shouted with all her might.
“That kid, what's she in such a hurry for……”
Monika's father smiled.
A small village surrounded by giant trees, a few of the men in Sarrifis had been hunters for generations. Monika's father was also one of them. He was called a forest keeper, and his daily routine was to chase wild animals or to exterminate the ferocious beasts that appeared in neighboring villages.
He had killed an animal today as well.
On the back of his body, clad in boiled leather armor, was the carcass of a leopard. Covered in blood, it was quite heavy. Monika's father took a deep breath and, feeling the weight of the beast, pushed through the undergrowth.
Among the sharp blades of grass, there was an altar.
Strictly speaking, it was the remains of an altar. In the center of a tilted stone pillar, the remnants of a desolate structure stood out. An altar that had been worn away in many places, having endured countless floods. Monika's father placed the leopard's carcass on it.
“Dad's always slower than me! You're a turtle!”
Monika was standing by the altar.
Smiling brightly.
“I suppose so. Is it good to be fast, Monika?”
“Yeah! Even Mom can't catch me.”
“How about letting yourself be caught sometimes?”
“Why?”
“Mom is chasing you because you did something wrong.”
“I don't know about such difficult things.”
“That kid, you've already learned how to play dumb.”
In her father's eyes, Monika was too small.
She was just an eight-year-old child. Who would play in the dirt, or pull mischievous pranks on the village elders.
But she would grow up soon. By the time Monika turned ten, she would have to leave Sarrifis. He couldn't raise his daughter in a village with no other children her age.
“Dad.”
Monika's father rummaged at his waist.
He drew a dagger and aimed it at the leopard's carcass.
“I have something I'm curious about.”
“Go ahead.”
The tip of the dagger touched the leopard's skin.
Blood flowed from the thinly cut leg. The dark red blood stained the altar. Drip, drip, he went. The blood drops fell into the holes on the altar's surface. As if being sucked into the ground.
“Why do you pray for its soul? When we're the ones who killed it.”
It was a ritual of mourning.
Not a rite commonly used in the Platinum Round Table Orthodoxy, but a custom that the hunters of Sarrifis had been observing.
The first bite of all prey was to be offered to the world. Dying and killing, eating and being eaten, was the providence of the world.
“We mourn because we killed it.”
Monika's father muttered.
Quietly closing his eyes, listening to the sound of the blood drops falling.
“The leaves grow, absorbing the sunlight. The green leaves are gnawed by caterpillars, and such caterpillars are eaten by frogs. The frog is the prey of the snake, the snake is the prey of the bird, and we humans are standing at the end of that food chain.”
So we must be polite.
As those who stand at the end of providence.
We must offer our prey to the world, and wish for the world to be full.
Monika's father whispered so.
“It's difficult. I don't understand at all.”
Monika said, pouting her lips.
“Your dad thinks so too. The world is truly difficult.”
“I have something I'm curious about, Dad.”
“Go ahead.”
Monika stood beside her father.
She also closed her eyes and listened to the sound of the blood drops falling.
“When are you going to die, Dad?”
“Dad doesn't know about such difficult things.”
“Don't play dumb. You know everything, Dad.”
“Not necessarily……”
Yes. As a father, I should pretend to know.
But Monika, why have you become curious about my death?
To such a question from her father,
“Because I'll have to mourn.”
Monika answered in a childish voice.
“Someday, when Dad dies, when Mom dies……”
Maybe, I'm not sure, but,
I think I'll feel like I'm the one who killed them.
To such an answer from his daughter,
“……Hah.”
Monika's father smiled bitterly.
What on earth are children made of?
He couldn't understand at all. They're so small and adorable, yet why do they ask such precocious questions from time to time?
With such a question in his heart.
“If I were to die……”
Monika's father bent his body.
After wiping his blood-stained hands, he held his daughter's hand.
“Promise me, Monika.”
That you will not cherish my death.
Please offer it to the world, and you forget everything.
Promise me you will.
* * *
A funeral for a golem.
Abel thought for a moment. It was an absurd idea.
A funeral was a ritual to appease a soul, and a golem had no soul. It could feign having a soul, but its essence was a tool. There would be no knight who would mourn a broken sword, so by what right could one wish for the soul of a golem to rest in peace?
[Excuse me.]
There was a golem in front of Abel.
It seemed to be an older model than Fabien. Its body was made of wood, and its eyes, nose, and mouth were only engraved as outlines.
[‘Weak friend, put on the husk of an insect’.]
The golem said with its hands clasped.
[Thank you for using our workshop. I have come to help you put on your armor. There will be no extra charge.]
“It's fine. Go and do your work.”
Abel waved his hand.
The golem that had been standing tall bowed its upper body. It was a stiff movement like a wooden doll.
‘Weak friend, put on the husk of an insect’.
It was the name of an armor workshop located in the capital city of Naflansee.
Abel had just stopped by there. As industrialization progressed, the price of armor had also dropped, and unlike the era when custom armor was popular, large workshops had begun to appear. Only a few artisans handled custom armor, and factory-made armor had established itself as the main product.
“……I've put it on.”
Monika's whisper reached Abel's ears.
Abel looked back. Monika was peeking out her face. Clutching the curtain that covered the fitting room.
“Why are you doing that?”
“Because I'm shy.”
Monika looked around. Brawny men were coming and going. Monika was the only girl who was not yet an adult.
“You're being fussy.”
Abel let out a sigh.
Swish, he went. The curtain of the fitting room was drawn back.
Monika, who had taken a step back, was enveloped in armor. It was a product made from the flexible hide of a monster. Monika, wearing the black-painted inner armor, pulled at a lock of her hair. She scratched her flushed cheek with the end of her black hair.
“I'll only help you this once.”
Abel bent his body.
He picked up the protective gear to be worn over the inner armor.
“You have to be able to put it on by yourself from next time.”
“……Understood.”
Monika nodded her head.
She sat on a chair in a corner of the fitting room and put her feet into the boots Abel held out.
“Teacher Abel.”
Monika's armor was made of light materials.
The weight was reduced by casting a lightening spell on the leather, and friction was added so that it would not interfere with movement. In the first place, it was an item made for apprentice knights.
“Is it strange? To hold a funeral for the combat-type golems.”
“I don't know.”
Abel placed his hand on Monika's boot.
After adjusting the belt to fit the width of her ankle, he tapped the heel to check the sound. To check if her presence would stand out.
“You said one of the rampaging combat-type golems and Fabien once had the same master.”
Abel asked, looking up at Monika.
“That's right. They said they were a married couple.”
“Golems do not have the concept of a married couple.”
“Mr. Fabien said so too. But humans do have the concept of a married couple, don't they?”
People often make mistakes.
Monika whispered so.
“People ultimately only know people, so they often treat not only animals but also objects as if they were people. Is that why? I keep thinking they seemed like people. The combat-type golems I faced in the training ground.”
“That could be so.”
Abel readily agreed.
Golems were objects that seemed too alive.
Fabien's former masters must have felt that way too. The combat-type golem would have been purchased for protection, and Fabien would have been purchased to assist with daily life. The order to make the two golems a married couple was perhaps human-like. As Monika said, humans ultimately only knew humans.
No, perhaps it's inhuman.
A golem was an object rather than a living being. It was an item treated as an object. Was projecting humanity onto an object really human-like? Was it not like imitating a god? Abel could not easily assert. Because even humans were not always human-like.
“Then, Monika.”
Abel opened his mouth.
Inwardly, he mulled over his thoughts.
To mourn a golem that does not know mourning.
Is that really a human-like act?
“You want to be polite.”
Abel thought it didn't matter either way.
Whether one treats an animal like a person, or an object like a person.
Whether human-like or inhuman, Monika was just trying to be polite. As the one who had destroyed the combat-type golem.
“……That's right.”
Monika's head drooping.
Abel stood up. He picked up the elbow pads and gestured to Monika with his chin.
“Isn't it funny?”
Monika asked, extending her left arm.
“I'm in the process of learning how to handle a sword. I'll probably be killing not only monsters but also people. Sometimes with a firm reason. Sometimes because I have no choice. And yet I'm mourning a golem. If I'm this weak, I……”
Can I really become a Holy Knight?
Monika asked so.
“I've lived to protect only myself until now. The reason I hold a sword is the same. It was to have the strength to protect myself. But I can't be like that forever. To become a Holy Knight, I have to be able to protect many more things.”
Protecting something is……,
not such a romantic thing. Isn't that right, Teacher?
After distinguishing what to protect and what to sacrifice,
it's something that's possible only by being endlessly cool-headed, and sometimes cruel.
The more things, the bigger things one has to protect, the more so.
And yet, I want to be polite.
Such a trivial, just such a thing.
“So it's funny.”
Monika wore a faint smile.
“It's shabby, foolish, and even stupid, isn't it?”
“It's not such a funny story.”
Abel's hand touched Monika's left arm.
The elbow pads began to tighten on Monika's flesh.
“I told you once. Let's protect the world together.”
“You did. I really thought you were a madman.”
“And I also said. Let's protect you together.”
“That's right. I thought you seemed like a madman then too.”
“I am indeed a madman.”
“……It's because you admit it so easily that you seem like a madman.”
“Stand up, Monika.”
Abel picked up the tanned torso armor.
Monika, who was looking at it, stood up from her seat. Behind Monika, who had her arms spread, Abel's hands moved gently. He placed the protective gear on Monika's body and began to tighten the belts.
Hah, hah, he went. As Monika's breath escaped,
“I was lying.”
Abel whispered softly.
“They were ultimately words with the same meaning. The words ‘let's protect the world’ would have sounded grand, and the words ‘let's protect you’ would have sounded trivial, but they were essentially the same story. The world sometimes becomes unbearably trivial, and someone would have considered you a child grander than the world.”
For example, your deceased parents.
Abel muttered so.
“Above all, Monika, there is no one who does not protect the world. There is also no one who does not protect themselves. Everyone must be living with their own world in their hearts.”
People……,
No, all beings are like that.
They devote their entire lives to protecting their own world.
Animals are the same. Insects are the same. Objects also silently keep their place. The fields where animals roam, the burrows where insects live, even the place where just an object is placed, is all a world.
Are you any different? Have you not been protecting your own world all this time?
“You may think your world is very small, but that does not make it inferior. People often mistake things like status, power, and wealth for their world.”
There was such a saying.
That he who governs himself well will govern his family well,
and he who governs his family well will also govern the country well.
It's all a pack of lies.
“You can tell by looking through history books. There were many kings who were good parents but were nothing but mass murderers, and there were also many kings who were benevolent rulers but were not good parents.”
Each person's world was like a small piece of cloth.
A single piece of cloth. Then isn't the world a patchwork quilt?
I think this world is a long stretch of each person's piece of cloth woven together.
Someone's world will be a brilliant silk. Someone's world will be a crude rag. But if it wasn't woven with ill will and has grown moldy, it is equally precious. Because if even one piece were to disappear, a hole would be torn in the world.
“So, Monika, what you are trying to protect cannot be trivial. You are trying to protect it because it is not trivial, aren't you? There is no need to be self-deprecating.”
“Then……”
Monika looked back at Abel.
Abel, who had been tightening the belts with a silent expression, stepped back. On the large mirror beyond Abel, the full body of Monika wearing armor was reflected. A dull black leather armor was wrapped around Monika's body.
“Do you think we can't be compared in terms of superiority or inferiority?”
Monika tried moving her body.
It was light. It was incomparable to the training clothes of CIAR.
“The size of my world and your world.”
I'm just a kid, and you, Teacher, are, well……,
a Sword Saint. You have a high status, power, and a lot of wealth. And yet, do you think we are equal?
When Monika asked so,
“Of course.”
Abel answered, shrugging his shoulders.
With a faint smile on his face.
“I don't know how to be polite to a golem. For a great Holy Knight, that is.”
“……What's the big deal about that?”
Monika pouted her lips.
Thump, he went. She extended her prosthetic arm and tapped her chest. It was quite sturdy. It was not on a level to be compared with the training clothes of CIAR. The inner armor was as light as if she wasn't wearing it, and the protective gear added to protect her vital points was optimized for blocking blades.
“In any case, thank you.”
Monika said, looking up at Abel.
“I've received something like this again.”
“Do not mind it.”
I am also just being polite.
After muttering so, Abel left the fitting room.
Being polite. Who on earth would offer armor, a sword, and a prosthetic arm in the name of politeness? Monika thought, crossing her arms. She could not dare to imagine the things that constituted her teacher's world.
But she thought she might understand, Monika guessed as she followed Abel. She might not be able to fathom each other's worlds at all, but they could exchange what belonged to their respective worlds.
“Teacher Abel, let's go to the toy store before we go back.”
“Why?”
“Because you bought me armor.”
Monika smiled, raising the corners of her lips.
The paper bag held in her arms rustled.
“So I will also give you a gift in return.”
“I just bought it because the time came when it was needed. Because all the students of CIAR own personal armor.”
“Anyway. Since you bought me armor, Teacher, I will gift you a doll of a hero in armor.”
“So why?”
Why do you keep gifting such things?
Abel asked, taking out his gold coin pouch.
Abel's pupils were trembling slightly.
* * *
At the same time, the private infirmary of Cia-Harpe Academy.
Emilio opened his eyes. A strange ceiling was engraved in his blurry vision. A surface made of stark white hardened plaster, a ceiling scrawled with a scrupulous grid pattern. Where on earth was this? Emilio wondered for a very brief moment, then understood.
That's right. I was hospitalized.
Emilio thought, sitting up. They said he had collapsed from overwork. The school nurse had told him to rest for a few days. Not to think of leaving the infirmary, and to take the medicinal decoction prescribed from time to time.
“Did you sleep well, Emilio Mackenzie?”
Suddenly, a voice reached Emilio's ears.
It was a soft tone like a flower petal fluttering.
“Nice to meet you. I wanted to have a talk with you.”
“You are……”
Emilio's eyes widened.
A girl wearing a floral wreath was sitting by the bed.
An incomparably clear appearance. Hair as fresh as if spun from a wave with a spinning wheel, eyes as moist as a jewel made from processed coral. There were few students at CIAR who did not know her name.
“The evangelist……, Lady Fleur de Saint-Pierre.”
“That's right. It's a relief you know my name. I'm clumsy at self-introductions.”
Fleur took off her floral wreath.
The blue hair tangled in the flower stems flowed down.
“Excuse me, for what reason have you come to see me……”
When Emilio was about to ask,
“Didn't I tell you? I just came to have a talk. I didn't have any particular business.”
Fleur muttered, bending her body.
A basket placed at her feet. Fleur placed it on her thigh and smiled. A delicious scent tickled Emilio's nose. He had been eating only vegetable porridge all this time.
“Hey, Emilio. Do you want a sandwich?”
Fleur whispered, opening the lid of the basket.
“Despite appearances, you know, my cooking is better than the latest model golem.”