CHAPTER TWO

The ship they were to sail on was much nicer than Col had imagined, large enough to squeeze a hundred people if they were herded on board like sheep.

However, it was not a vessel meant only for them, nor did it belong to the Debau Company. One of their trade ships was apparently just now on its way back from the northern islands, and it would have been a waste of time to wait the several days it would take to unload then reload cargo. Instead, they decided to contract the ship of another company.

They did not tell the captain of the ship their true intentions, since if the pirates who controlled the area found out they were working on behalf of the Kingdom of Winfiel’s political motives, then they might be watched or cause unnecessary misunderstandings. So they were acting under the premise that they were traveling priests, journeying all over to find a place to build a monastery on the orders of a certain noble.

It seemed Hyland was aware that Col was rather conscious of how lying went against God’s teachings because she told him that one of her aristocratic relatives was truly thinking about searching for a spot to build a monastery. There were several deserted islands in the north, and as they were all desolate, their story would not attract doubt. What’s more, under the pretense of a monastery, it would be easy to ask about the Black-Mother, so it was the perfect plan.

Their destination was a port town on the biggest island among the northern islands, Caeson. The journey was roughly two, three days long, and they went from island to island as if they were stepping-stones.

They were instructed to ask the large number of merchants more about the northern islands while at the Debau Company trading house where they would be rooming on the first island.

For the time being, they had to make sure they did not attract undue attention from the pirates who controlled the northern seas while investigating their true beliefs. The decision of whether or not to court them as allies was also a political decision, and of course, even if their faith was heretical, they would certainly make no attempts to convert them.

“I’m grateful to hear that”—or so Hyland had said to them through the mouth of a messenger as they were about to depart.

Considering how busy she was and how many subordinates reported to her, there was no way she could hold their hands for every step of their journey.

Her consideration for them was clear enough in that she had sent them a messenger and put them on the biggest of commercial ships. Col had renewed his determination to work his hardest.

“Well then, we will be your eyes and ears in their land.”

He relayed that to the messenger, exchanged a firm handshake, and crossed the ramp onto the ship. The port town of Atiph was lively as always. Overhead was a beautiful blue sky, and there was no harsh wind. Col considered that it could be an easy journey.

“I saved us a spot, Brother.”

As he stepped onto the deck, Myuri’s face popped out from among the cargo. She was already wearing the practical deer leather wrap he had picked for her in the market around her waist and a woolen scarf from the Kingdom of Winfiel around her neck. On top of that, a hooded linen cloak rested on her shoulders. She was more than ready to face the coming cold. She had complained that it was not very cute, but that meant it had the advantage of making it difficult to discern her gender. A wandering priest searching for a site to build a monastery who traveled with a young girl would only create bad rumors.

“You didn’t need to get any sort of…What, you mean here?”

She was waiting at the back of the ship, beside a mountain of leather.

“Why not the hold below deck? Isn’t it too cold to be out here?”

The spot may have felt open underneath the sky, and perhaps the cargo was packed in a way that offered some protection from the wind, but he at least wanted walls. It was decidedly cold on deck.

Then Myuri put her hands on her hips and tilted her head in astonishment, sighing.

“Sheesh. This is why you are a novice when it comes to ships.”

“What?”

“The hold is dark and damp and a hotbed for rats, mites, lice, and flies!”

The ship Col boarded on a long time ago had not been so bad, but Myuri had recently done a bit of menial work for the companies here in Atiph. Her experience from unloading cargo at the port could not be disregarded.

“Erm…Fine. However, if it gets too cold, we’ll go downstairs.”

Myuri shrugged.

The work crews finished loading all the cargo before long. The ramp and the rope mooring the ship to the pier were removed, and then the anchor was lifted. There were about five people who were running the ship. There were about three or four others traveling as passengers besides Col and Myuri; they were all merchants.

“Brother, look down.”

Myuri, clinging to the ship railing, pointed to the surface of the water. He peeked over and watched just as long oars that reminded him of the bones in a bird’s wings slithered out. There were two on this side, so he surmised the ship was steered by four in total.

“It’s because they can’t really use the sail in a port without wind. The plan is that once they get offshore and set course on the current, all that’s left for them to do is sleep until they reach the north.”

He was shocked by Myuri, who delivered a confident explanation about something she likely overheard while working as an errand boy. Col smiled as he leaned against the railing and looked up at the sky. He could see a fine sail, waiting for its turn, as well as two masts for it—one in the front and one in the back.

The ship was half as wide as it was long, seemingly stocky. It was typical of commercial ships to be filled with cargo instead of people. Coming from the northern seas, it would be laden with fish, amber, and ores such as iron; on the way there, it would carry wheat, wine, and dried meats, as well as finished metallic or wooden goods, or even leather goods like what surrounded them today.

There were other larger ships moored at the port, but this was more than enough to store the entire market of a small town on board. Though he had traveled with a merchant when he was a child, Col keenly felt that trade conducted on the seas was on an entirely different scale.

The ship drifted from the port toward the river by going under the giant chain that prevented naval attacks from the sea. He was finally starting to feel like they were truly departing on a sailing journey.

“By the way, Myuri, do you get seasick?”

From what he had heard from a merchant earlier, the best way to prevent seasickness was to avoid standing on deck as much as possible, focus on something far away, or simply sleep. He also warned him that no matter what, he should not look down and stare at his feet.

“No, not at all. Look, Brother, look at all those fish! I want to jump in with a harpoon!”

If her tail had been out, it would have been wagging excitedly. He looked up into the sky in exasperation at her typical attitude only to spot singing seabirds above them, perhaps suspecting there was fish in the cargo.

Before he knew it, the ship had exited the port at the mouth of the river as the oars steered toward the coast. When he finally began to feel the wind on his cheek, he noticed he no longer heard the oars on the water, and then sweaty men emerged from below deck. They manipulated the rope that connected the yard and the sail, slowly turning the ship’s course northward.

“Brother, Brother, we’re on top of the ocean! It’s so cool!”

Myuri’s eyes sparkled beneath her hood. She had been born and raised deep in the mountains, so everything about the sea was new to her. Even if that was not the case, she was still much more excitable than others, and she would be adorably satisfied with her trip even with the wind gusting in her face.

As Col watched her, he thought that allowing her to come along with him was really not that terrible a thing. At the end of the day, there was nothing better than Myuri being happy.

The sky was clear, the wind was not too strong, and between the cries of the seabirds and the lazy rocking of the ship, it felt like a drunken weekend day. In reality, he wanted to think about conveying the scripture into the common language and translations of abstract words that he would be satisfied with, but he suddenly felt drowsy. He suddenly found himself soaking in the baths back in Nyohhira during the daytime. Even though he knew it was a dream, he could not fight how relaxing it felt.

While that was happening, the sound of rustling cloth jolted him awake.

“Mm…Myuri?”

He looked beside him, and there sat Myuri, hugging her knees. Her eyes were closed, but she did not seem sleepy, and her throat occasionally moved as though she was swallowing something.

The ship was rolling back and forth, back and forth.

She noticed him, and she looked as though she had heard a suspicious noise in the middle of the night.

“Myuri, you’re pale…”

That was all he managed to say before she suddenly stood and stuck her head out over the side of the ship. Before he could say anything, her back shivered and he could hear her retching. It seemed she could not stay the energetic and invincible girl she was.

But for some reason he was glad, and though he felt sorry for her as he stood, he could not help but smile when he rubbed her back.

“This is because you do not listen to me.”

He took the opportunity to scold her and she glared at him, her face pale, but that energy was once again overwhelmed by nausea.

She groaned for a while, but sicking up seemed to relieve her discomfort for the time being. She rinsed out her mouth with a drink from the waterskin, then spread her wrap out on the floor and loosened anything that was snug on her body, like her scarf. From what he had heard from the merchants at the Debau Company beforehand, the last step was to lie with one’s back on the floor and sleep; she would feel much better afterward.

Laying her on her back, her complexion was terrible, and her breathing was quick and shallow. And yet, when he placed her head on his lap, she felt around for his hand and gripped it tightly. She was always throwing barbs at him for being an idiot or this and that, but there was still this sweet side to her, too.

He felt safe in knowing that people could not die from seasickness as he felt the need to get some payback.

“How would you be able to save me when the time comes like this?”

Her eyes that were scrunched up in pain opened slightly as she pursed her lips, annoyed. To top it off, she sunk her fingernails into the palm of the hand she was gripping.

“Brother, you…bully…”

“I know, I know.”

He patted her head. She immediately closed her eyes, perhaps thinking that she could not win no matter how hard she tried. He looked down at her, smiling, wishing she would behave at least half as well as this normally.

“…Brother?”

“Yes?”

“I’m gonna barf.”

“What?! Just—just hold on a second!”

Disregarding how flustered he was, Myuri rolled over onto her side, then glanced back at him. Her curled back shook violently several times as though she would vomit, and even Col’s face lost its color.

He did not know whether to keep holding her thin shoulders or let go, but he needed to get her to the edge of the ship…And then, he finally realized it.

“Eh-heh-heh…”

Her expression still strained, Myuri smiled, having somehow gotten back at him.

He would never be able to beat her in teasing and trickery.

“Honestly…”

He sighed in relief and irritation as Myuri rolled onto her back again. Of course, her head lay on his lap once more, and he had not let go of her hand. She was as white as a candle, but her stiffened lips had relaxed a bit.

He was more impressed than angry with her spirit.

“You’ve beat me.”

He admitted defeat, eliciting a slight smile from Myuri, who then exhaled deeply. It seemed the tension in her body had eased; her breathing slowed.

The best way to overcome seasickness was to sleep, he had heard.

As he stroked his tomboyish little sister’s head, he bade, “Sleep well.”

They passed several small islands and skerries, but there were no places that looked like they could serve as a stopping point for the ship. Journeys where he could not grasp the direction and distance were rough for Col, which was only exacerbated by traveling on unfamiliar seas.

While he occasionally adjusted Myuri’s covers as she turned in her sleep, the sun finally started setting. The wind stung him while the sound of the waves grew steadily more unbearable, when a rather massive silhouette of an island came into view. Realizing the ship was headed straight in that direction, he felt relieved. It was likely where the Debau Company had a trading house that Hyland had described.

“Myuri.”

He shook her small shoulders and she opened her eyes, seeming quite groggy.

“We’re almost to the port. It’s almost time to get off.”

Though she was most certainly looking at him, he was not sure if she was completely conscious yet.

“Do you still feel sick?”

There was no response besides an unsteady stare. Then, she closed her eyes and nodded once.

She seemed like a weak, young child.

“So you’re all right.”

He patted her on the head, and she groaned deep in her throat.

“We have lots of luggage, so I won’t be able to carry all that plus you. You’ll have to get ready on your own.”

She was sulking deliberately, which meant she had recovered considerably. After finally conceding, she sat up either because she knew he saw right through her or because she remembered that she was in the middle of an adventure. That being said, she was still not in the best condition, so he wrapped the blankets and other bulk items onto his luggage.

“When we get off the ship, make sure you don’t fall into the water.” He spoke seriously, but she just lightly slapped his back with a frown.

The ship steadily drew closer to the port. By the time Col could see the faces of the workers on the ships moored there, the sailors had already begun to efficiently fold the sail. Then, the pilot stood at the bow and shouted orders to the helmsman at the stern of the ship. The vessel glided across the water and safely came to rest in port.

A ramp was set into place, and soon men who looked like dockworkers rushed onto the ship at the same time. The sailors and merchants began their exchange with them.

Col was unsure if it was all right for them to simply disembark, but it occurred to him that he and Myuri would only be in the way if they stayed on deck, so he pulled Myuri’s hand and they quickly got off. The ramp was not as solid as the one in Atiph, which made him nervous, but they crossed safely in the end. Feeling solid ground after half a day at sea gave him a great feeling of relief.

“All right, next, we’ll be staying with the Debau Company trading house…”

In the middle of readjusting the luggage on his back, he noticed Myuri had stopped, staring blankly. He approached her, thinking it could have been vertigo or anemia, but as she gazed at the island, she murmured, “…It looks so sad.”

The chaotic sight consisted of seabirds circling annoyingly above people jostling or hustling against one another, while stray dogs and cats skulked around, hoping to pilfer fish from fishermen who were nowhere to be seen. There were several docked ships, including many large ones, but besides the sailors actively working on them, there was no one around. He could count the number of big buildings on one hand, and most were fenced in.

On top of it all, behind those buildings were bare hills without a single tree in sight. Had they been blanketed in snow, it would have been a different story, but the remaining patches of snow that dotted the landscape only made it seem even colder. White, bone-like driftwood was scattered along the beach that extended from the port, emphasizing the loneliness.

Even the sailors who had arrived on the same ship as them had not let slip a peep of chatter as they walked hunched over toward the building that would be their inn for the night. This was not the sort of place that impressed the need for friendly banter.

To a girl born and raised in Nyohhira, a village filled with song, dance, and the sounds of laughter nestled deep in the mountains, such a bleak atmosphere was unimaginable.

“I’m here.”

He gripped Myuri’s hand through his deerskin gloves, and she stared up with beautiful eyes between her hood and scarf.

“You remind me of yourself sometimes, Brother.”

After she said that, she bumped him with her shoulder.

“And? Where are we staying tonight?”

“We’re about to search for someplace to stay, but I do not think we’ll get lost.”

“I want to be by a fire as soon as possible!”

The coastal sunset was certainly terrifying and cold. Together, they walked along the empty, lonely port.

There were few buildings along the beach, so it was not difficult to immediately pick out the Debau Company trading house. It looked like the stately house from Atiph was trying to pass the winter here as the wind blew against it. The raised flags also blew lifelessly in the cold wind, almost as though they had long given up resisting.

He knocked on the heavy door, perhaps meant as a measure against storms. Before long a hairy, round-bellied merchant appeared.

“Oh? This is unusual. A traveling father?”

“We are on a journey to the northern islands for certain reasons. Here is a letter of introduction from Sir Stefan from the trading house in Atiph.”

Of course, it was something that Hyland had written on his behalf.

“Oh?”

The merchant narrowed his eyes, and when he took the letter, he moved his large body to the side.

“Well, it’s cold out there. Why don’t you come in?”

“Thank you.”

They stepped over the threshold into a needlessly large atrium where the floor was exposed, packed earth, exactly the same as it was outside. Obligatorily placed there were small tables and chairs, ill matched for the size of the space. Far on the opposite wall hung a map of the region and a flag displaying the company’s emblem. The room’s leisurely atmosphere slightly softened the bleak air that permeated from outside.

“Please take a seat by the furnace. I’ll bring you some drinks.”

The merchant motioned toward something resting squarely in the atrium’s center that could only be termed a furnace. It was metallic and stout, with a chimney extending up and out of the ceiling. From its wooden mouth, Col caught a glimpse of what seemed like an unreliable flame.

“They get their firewood from the sea…”

Sitting by the hearth was the kind of driftwood they saw on the beach. Myuri had perhaps imagined someone hunched over and shivering, gathering firewood under leaden skies on a beach beaten by icy waves. Collecting such firewood seemed like hard labor, almost like it was some sort of punishment.

“We finally have fire. Let’s go ahead and place our things by it.”

It was completely silent in the trading house, as though not a soul was present. Though they placed their things by the fire, they kept their coats on. Even with a roof and walls surrounding them to shelter them from the wind, it felt just as cold as it did outside.

Col went to grab chairs from a nearby table, but when he touched them, they were oddly soft from the salt and humidity. He was not sure whether the room was finished or not, but because of how wide it was, the shadows in the room grew darker even before the sun had set—it was depressing, perhaps even more so for a girl who had come from a lively hot spring village.

He considered this and turned to Myuri, who was holding driftwood that she never saw in Nyohhira and was studying it.

“Myuri?” he called to her, and when she looked at him, her eyes were shining.

“It’s like an inn at the edge of the world. It’s so exciting!”

“…”

Though she had been throwing up and her face was a bit pale, her spirit was recovering quickly.

Myuri’s youth and the ability to find enjoyment from anything she found in front of her warmed Col more than the furnace did.

“I didn’t think we’d be getting guests today, so I apologize for the appearance.”

As they were doing all that, the merchant who came out to greet them brought over steaming tin cups. They took them, and inside was a mixture of goat’s milk and honey. Perhaps the drink was a staple in these parts. He imagined that goat’s milk after throwing up would not be very good for Myuri and looked at her, but she sniffled from the steam and eagerly drank it.

“It’s quite a large building, but is it typically livelier than this?”

“Yes. The winter fishing season is over for now. This hall was filled with barrels of herring for sale to merchants and couriers who were sleeping in every cranny, leaving no room for anything else. Every day, commercial ships were arriving at all hours. What a riot it was.”

Despite what the merchant described, the atrium did not particularly smell of fish. His story sounded almost like he was reminiscing about a castle that was lively once upon a time but long since destroyed by war.

“And it will be filled again with migrant workers in the coming seasons; only this time, it’ll be those eyeing the spring storms.”

Col sipped his helping of goat’s milk. It was sweet enough to melt his teeth away, but perhaps it was just what he needed in such a cold and dark place.

“For the storms?”

“We say storms, but we really mean the things that get washed up by them. We sometimes get sea creatures with horns or even giant sturgeons washing ashore. All sorts of things.”

Myuri’s eyes went blank when she heard “sea creatures with horns.” It sounded mythical, and it seemed she had thought it was made up.

But Col had seen them before in real life. The animal’s horns were sometimes said to hold the power of granting immortality and traded as snake oil. The sea was truly full of more mysteries than land could ever be.

“Also amber. A mess of it washes ashore after the storms.”

When the conversation turned to easily understandable gems, Myuri’s eyes sparkled.

“You can gather even the smallest bits on the beach, but the largest pieces are deep in the sea. That’s why they make large sieves in town, then pack them on boats to ship here. Greedy folks bring ones so big they can’t carry it alone. Then they head out to all these different islands and wait for the big storms to come. When the time is right, they go out in the raging wind and waves, wade out waist-deep into stinging water, then search along the floor underwater. To make sure they don’t faint from the cold and drift away in the water, they tie ropes to one another. Even then, it’s never-ending, dangerous work.”

It was terrifying just imagining it, the very thought giving Col a chill.

But Myuri was so enraptured by the story to the point she barely noticed snot creeping down from her nose.

“That goes on until the flowers on the bare hills behind us begin to bloom. All these folks hoping to get rich quick come flooding in. It’s amazing how lively it gets. Sometimes there are amazing individuals who have earned their entire fortune with a single pull. And in the summer, this island becomes a base for people gathering peat and coal or mining iron ore. Well, that business has been in a slump recently…But still, what I mean to say is, you two arrived at a very rare moment of quiet.”

The merchant smiled merrily.

“So, the cargo on the ship we traveled on is meant to prepare for what’s coming?”

“Yes, I think so. Or it could be for islands even farther north of here. The Debau ship isn’t due for a few days still, so my buddy and I have just been relaxing.”

The merchant smiled and pointed with this thumb to a room connected to the atrium, where a dog sat, peering over at them with an air of intelligence.

“He’s usually friendlier, but maybe he’s being a little nervous around God.”

Col of course did not mention that he guessed it was due to the blood of wolves in Myuri’s veins.

“But still, I guess there’s a reason you’ve gone as far as hitching a ride on another company’s ship?”

The merchant spoke calmly as he added a piece of driftwood, white and smooth as a deer’s antlers, to the furnace.

As Myuri drank the goat’s milk, her eyes were trained on Col.

Her cheeky gaze seemed to say, “Are you going to do it?”

“And both of you are quite young.”

As he tended the fire, he glanced back at them over his shoulder with a very merchantlike, openly scrutinizing look.

That being said, both of them were already quite aware that together they drew unnecessary attention. Col straightened his posture, placed his hand on his breast, and dropped into a bow.

“My name is Tote Col. This is Myuri. I have been studying theology since a young age as a wandering student. Now, I am in the care of a certain noble.”

“Huh.”

The merchant left the wood he had been fiddling with as is inside the furnace and lifted his face.

“Well, well. I am the master of this trading house, Yosef Remenev.”

He extended his hand, and when Col took it, he noticed it was as hard as a mountain animal.

“But a wandering student. It’s like I’m seeing a miracle.”

Yosef flashed a carefree smile. It seemed he knew all about wandering students.

“A wandering student is just another name for evil debauchery and thievery. I was no different from any beggar. I was so desperate to obtain more of what little money I had that I was tricked by a swindler. I was at my wit’s end.”

“Well, that’s…”

“In my hardship, through the guidance of God, I found a traveling merchant who took me in, narrowly rescuing me from death. He taught my ignorant self many things, was accommodating enough to give me time to study every day, and here I am now.”

“I see.”

Hearing the heartwarming tale of a fellow merchant, the likes of whom were often censured by representatives of God, Yosef seemed rather proud.

“And your companion here?”

He gestured with his hand, and Myuri, who only ever behaved at times like this, straightened her back and smiled.

“When I was chosen by a certain noble and departed from the village, she was hiding in my luggage. I should return her, but…I, too, was once a wandering student.”

“Ha-ha-ha! I see, I see.”

By the teachings of God, Col could not lie. However, even the scripture was filled with ambiguities. Smart conversationalists would fill in the blanks on their own, while the intelligent, confident ones especially would not ask for more details.

Yosef nodded deeply, slowly, and knowingly.

Myuri did not refer to him as “Brother” because anyone familiar with the wandering students knew these children called the elders in their group “bro.”

“And so, you are traveling today for this noble?”

“Yes. It is an urgent request. We’ve heard this area hosts a harsh environment and is a place that people cannot easily get to. It would be perfect as a place to practice profound worship.”

These were also words that were not a lie but still misleading.

“I see. I’ve heard that there was a big commotion about faith in Atiph. If someone who knows of irreverence is building a monastery, then that means they want to tighten the leash on faith, huh?”

Yosef’s round, drumlike belly shook as he spoke merrily. It seemed news of what happened in Atiph was spreading far.

“There are a number of small, remote islands in this area perfect for a monastery. We sometimes deliver the materials, but…at the most, they last about three years. Ah, my apologies.”

Searching for salvation, monks often built monasteries in remote places, but due to the severity of the environments, many wound up leaving. Or when the rich who originally funded the endeavor passed away, there was no one to deliver materials.

Monasteries could not remain standing on their own, and even monks could only endure so much. A house of prayer and asceticism had to be supported by worldly gold and a certain level of comfort.

“There are many forms of faith, and passionate prayer will reach God, whether it be from the top of a mountain or the bottom of the sea.”

Col responded with a smile while Yosef, who had let his true opinions slip free, rubbed his belly, perhaps out of relief. Then he spoke with an uncomfortable smile as a pretense.

“Well, I don’t want you to misunderstand, but there are many around these parts who hold fast to true faith. It may come across somehow as an incredibly touchy time, but I will stake this on the honor of this region.”

“Of course.”

Col had no intention of questioning faith here, and though he took it as small talk, Yosef said something he could not ignore.

“Sure, belief in the Black-Mother is often met with doubtful eyes, but the crewmen are more passionate than anyone else, and they are all of the purest faith. God’s teachings are firmly rooted in this land.”

From the way he was speaking, perhaps Yosef was also a native of an island in the area.

Then, this was the point that determined if Myuri would be calling him an idiot or not.

Col spoke, making sure his voice did not raise out of excitement, in the most natural manner he could muster.

“The Black-Mother? Are there black-and-white versions of the Holy Mother?”

Yosef seemed to be one who was exceptionally passionate about his work and the land he lived in.

So when Col feigned ignorance, sure enough, Yosef’s eyes widened.

“Oh, you don’t know. That’s no good. You can’t get around the islands without a boat, and any journey by sea is uncertain without the protection of the Black-Mother. Please wait a moment. Living by human power alone is almost impossible in this land, so this benevolent Holy Mother is our constant friend and companion.”

Yosef shot up and went into the adjacent room, almost toppling his chair over in his haste.

The driftwood crackled in the furnace.

Myuri sipped the last of the goat’s milk in her tin cup and burped.

“That was all right, I guess.”

She shrugged as she sassed him, chuckling.

Yosef brought over a figure identical to the one that Hyland had showed them in Atiph. The only differences were that his was a bit smaller and all the details had been worn away.

“Everyone born and raised in this region will wear this on them when they go out to sea.”

He spoke as his rough hands gripped the figure of the Holy Mother. A small bag with a string attached sat beside him. It appeared he wore that around his neck with the figure inside whenever he traveled over water. As she listened, Myuri rustled around near her chest because she, too, had a small pouch hanging from her neck, though containing wheat.

“Is it different from the Holy Mothers and saints on the front of the ships that regularly embark on long journeys?”

Yosef shook his head woefully in response.

He was about to speak forcefully, but his eyes suddenly turned to the skewered fish standing before the furnace.

“Oh, it’s almost time to eat. These fins around the body here are crunchy and very delicious.”

It was flounder—flat, skewered, and then seared over the heat. Myuri knew of them in a fashion, but her eyes widened when she saw their strange shape for the first time.

“The kind we catch in our nets are usually the size of a plate, but when the big storms come, huge ones wash up from the depths of the sea, and they’re like this! This big!”

Yosef demonstrated, drawing his arms in an arc that made it seem like they would come out of their sockets. Myuri was honestly surprised and her eyes glinted, but Col only pretended to be polite. The stories of merchants entertaining guests always had to be taken with a grain of salt.

“The sea is full of such giant creatures just roaming around that are unimaginable on land. Many legends still remain. But if we leave it just to fish, then the smaller ones taste the best. Please help yourselves before it goes cold.”

The flounder, typically found clinging to the bottom of the sea, had been grilled and skewered. Its meat was soft and flaky, making for a tasty meal. The fins, which had become crunchy and charred from the fire, were salty and delicious. Myuri ate two, perhaps because she wanted to fill her stomach after throwing up so much on the trip.

Col nearly scolded her for being unladylike, but Yosef seemed quite happy that a guest was enjoying the local fish, so he stayed quiet. Myuri’s puppy-like appreciation for the meal may have made Yosef feel like he was giving her a treat.

“Well, about the Black-Mother, it’s not like an amulet for a boat. The Black-Mother truly does protect us.”

On this wide, empty, cold earth, there were only three people and one dog in the darkness around the furnace. It was already pitch-black out and the cold wind was unceasing. There, the more Yosef passionately spoke, one word came to the forefront of Col’s mind.

Heresy.

The devil always showed people miracles before snatching them all away.

“No, I understand. Both mainlanders and merchants who come all the way from the southlands to buy herring all wear a skeptical look on their face.”

Col, flustered, brushed his cheeks. Yosef laughed while Myuri glared at him.

“But those who won’t be swayed when it comes to doubt all believe it. Monasteries built here do not last long because the people of this land will not go near them. That is also a factor.”

He could not help but imagine that something devilish was at work here, if this statue of the Holy Mother attracted faith so desperately.

Yosef continued to talk.

“There are many stories about ships that have been saved by the statue of the Black-Mother, and there are many that start with, Long ago, my gramps heard a story when he was a kid…I, too, have seen it with my own eyes.”

As though he was not trying to convince him, Yosef closed his eyes and pressed the figure to his chest, recalling his story.

Perhaps the details on the figure had worn out so much because he did that every day.

“It was a sea voyage in the fall.”

The wind howled outside.

“The earth was barren, damaged by seawater, so we were transporting the sheep and goats. They were thin from malnutrition, unable to give milk to the young—the meat and milk that is our livelihood. There were also humans with them trying to stave off the cold with what little wool they could get. We didn’t know if we should save this one poor island village.”

It was a bleak sight that greeted them when they got off the ship, to the point that Myuri was left speechless. The farther north people traveled, the more inhospitable the environment became and the more difficult it was to live there. Perhaps before becoming a member of the Debau Company, Yosef was born in these seas and labored as a villager on one of these islands.

“For every day we delayed our departure, one animal died. And with every death, we could no longer support another member of our families. One morning, with a tepid breeze and thin clouds that dampened the walls, the elder fisherman opposed us, claiming we should not go out to sea. We knew the dangers, but we had no choice but to go. It was days like these that it was said the white devil would come swallow us up, but we were so concerned with the troubles before us.”

The wood in the furnace crackled and popped.

Yosef did not fidget.

“But the nearest island with grass was just a few hours away by boat. On sunny days, it looked close enough to swim to. And the surface of the water was quiet and calm. We were sure this was our chance. The next day, humidity would become rain, the winds would descend, and the waters would become agitated. Once that happened, we would lose all our livestock.”

Col imagined them, about to go out to sea, betting on their will to live.

“Then, in the haze, we set off. Every time the oars hit the water, the ripples spread into the distance until they disappeared into the mist. We headed for the island in what was supposed to be a straight line. But no matter how far we went, the island’s shadow never appeared, and our view grew whiter and whiter. It was like the devil had placed his hand over our eyes.”

“…The mist?”

Myuri, born and raised deep in the mountains, said the word with dread.

Sometimes mist grew so thick in the mountains, it became impossible to see your own outstretched fingers. Myuri understood that fear well. Even Myuri’s mother—a large wolf that towered over people and could only be described as a god—could lose her way and quail in such a phantasmal world.

What would happen if someone tried to curl up and cower in the mist, only to have their feet swallowed by the sea?

Yosef’s despair showed in the depth of the wrinkles on his face.

“We often say that this kind of mist is something you can grab, break, and eat. But it was nothing like that. It would have been better if we could grab it. The mist covered everything and everyone. We couldn’t see one another’s faces even though we all stood on the same deck. We stayed strangely quiet, like when goats or sheep sense something off. I’ve been caught in storms that whip up waves as big as hills and always stood steady. But in that mist, my legs were a shaky mess, and I reeled so many times.”

“When that happened to me on the mountain, I just kept screaming.”

Myuri sounded as though she was trying to comfort Yosef, who may as well have been still lost in the mist.

Yosef looked surprised before he smiled.

“Me, too. I didn’t know where I was, and I yelled with everything I had. My buddies later told me they did the same thing. But that thick, white mist swallows everything up. My voice barely reached my own ears.”

He gazed off into the distance before adding a little wood to the furnace.

“The rowers believed their heading was true, so they continued to row. No turns left or right, only straight ahead. Usually, you can tell where you are in the water by the current and resistance of the waves, even when your eyes are closed. But because it was so calm, we couldn’t tell anything. In the end, some of them started to randomly hit the water with their oars. By then, I was gripping this figure of the Black-Mother so hard I thought it might break. That’s a story we believe—that by this point, the Black-Mother will come to save us.”

Whenever matters were beyond the power of humans, they turned to the gods.

Yosef gripped the figure of the Holy Mother at his chest and continued.

“Creeping along the side of the ship, I made my way to the front, where I discovered all my buds had thought of the same thing. We didn’t have to say anything. Our lips drawn, we all nodded, and everyone held a figure of the Holy Mother in their hand.”

As though he would do just that, he held the figure of the Black-Mother up high.

“O, Our Mother, guide these pitiful lambs…We literally had lambs on board, too, but we chanted this and tossed our figures of the Black-Mother along with our prayers into the sea. Then…”

Myuri gulped and leaned forward, and Col found himself enraptured as well.

“The ship shook with a loud thunk. Someone yelled that we’d hit a reef. The seas around here are difficult, and accidents happen if the pilot doubts himself. I had been trembling in despair, but in the next moment, the ship began to move on its own.”

Col looked at Yosef as he spoke, and an odd state of mind overcame him.

It sounded too much like a made-up story, and he doubted that such a miracle could really happen so conveniently. But rather than obvious apprehension as the listener, it was the speaker himself who wore a complicated smile on his face. His expression suggested that it was they themselves who doubted if it was reality or fantasy.

“As though guided by a powerful force, the ship moved slowly across the water. Honestly, I thought I’d already died in a shipwreck and was being led to the underworld. But after a while, a large shadow suddenly appeared from the mist, and it was the island we always saw. The ship glided smoothly across the calm water before finally grounding on the shore. We stood on the tilted deck for a while, only looking at one another. We couldn’t believe that we were alive.”

Yosef shook his head and sighed.

“We just thought the gods had protected us, then let the sheep and goats onto the island, and then something happened when all our work was finished. Once the mist cleared, the wind came back, and the sea started to make waves again; the figures of the Black-Mother that we threw into the water washed up onto shore by the ship. It was like we’d ridden on her back, and she was the one who brought us there.”

He claimed the story was not mere hearsay, and it did not seem like he was lying.

Whether it was because she had been so excited or relieved that Yosef and his friends had made it out safely, Myuri’s eyes were watery and her nose was runny.

As though he was calming his own grandchild, Yosef smiled and wiped Myuri’s nose.

But Col was someone who wished to be a good priest, and he could not let his eyes be clouded.

“Has the Holy See requested to see the miracle?”

Col mentioned that any good believers would have done so. The Holy See was at the very center of the corrupt Church that needed to be reformed, but if they officially recognized a miracle here, it would raise the authority of the churches in the region whether anyone wanted that or not. It would also be an honor for the faith as a whole. In more ordinary terms, more pilgrims would visit and the land would profit financially as well.

On the other hand, the Holy See would certainly send inspectors to inquire about the veracity of the event.

As though Yosef had already anticipated Col’s thoughts quite a while ago, he slowly shrugged his massive shoulders.

“We argued about that. Even I think it was half miracle, half coincidence.”

“…Coincidence?”

“The sea is a complicated thing—no matter how calm the surface looks, it’s hard to tell what’s going on underneath. Boundaries between currents are clearer than mainlanders think, too. Once you pass a boundary, it sometimes feels like you’ve run into something.”

He meant it was quite possible they collided with a current when their senses were heightened after their vision had been taken away by the thick mist.

“And that beach has always been a common place to find things washed ashore by the current. Had we drawn close enough, we would have arrived there eventually, even without touching the oars. If we make all this fuss about what happened and then it comes out that moment wasn’t a miracle, we would accomplish nothing but draw even more suspicion to this region, which people already suspect is a place for heathens.”

Like yourself—Yosef’s eyes glinted with a hint of mischief and he smiled.

“That is why we decided that it was half miracle, half coincidence. Personally, I’ve been taking greater care of the Black-Mother ever since.”

Col could see the determination that, even if he was declared a heretic, he had no intentions of changing his mind.

And Col had not come here to convert these people.

He had come to determine if those who believed in the Black-Mother would be strong allies in their fight against the corrupt pope.

“And there are other stories that could be either coincidences or miracles, like a fire on a boat put out by a big wave after the men on board threw their figures of the Black-Mother into the sea or those saved by the Black-Mother after falling into the water.”

When he mentioned falling into the water, Myuri glanced at Col with a bit of a meaningful gaze, but he pretended not to notice.

“Of course, the biggest one…”

Yosef, who had spoken fluently thus far, cut off his words and smiled shyly, having strained himself, then continued softly.

“No, you should see the traces of it for yourself. Would you be heading to the main island by any chance?”

The island called Caeson was the pirates’ stronghold. Col heard from the Debau Company that it was the center of the northern islands.

“I was told that I must go there if I hope to venture into the waters beyond.”

“That’s because there are many poachers and outsiders who plunder defenseless villages, you know. If you make yourself known on the main island, then you’ll avoid larger problems. Especially if you want to build a base on an island somewhere. It doesn’t matter which noble’s patronage you have; we are all powerless at sea.”

The authorities of the Kingdom of Winfiel and Ploania, the northernmost country on the mainland, did not reach this far.

“The only thing that can protect us is the Black-Mother, then.”

Yosef showed his polite merchant’s smile in response to Col’s sentiment and nodded.

“The main island also houses this region’s only monastery. You may find it useful to visit the monk there. He is the one who crafts all the figures of the Holy Mother. Though rather old, he is a pious and outstanding man.”

It seemed that his figure and the one Hyland showed him looked similar because they were made by the same person.

And since the Church’s jurisdiction did not reach this far, it wasn’t impossible that this man simply called himself a monk and his house a monastery. Monasteries did not have the privilege of collecting money each time one presided over baptisms, marriages, or funerals, so the Church was generally not too strict with their organization. Problems only arose if they got in the way with the pope’s business.

Nobles wanted to build monasteries instead of churches because they were less likely to cause trouble.

“But recently, all the big coal mines on every island have been cleaned out. Production of jet has drastically decreased. The less we find, the more our trade will naturally thin out, but so will the protection for the people of the sea—in other words, us. What a dilemma.”

Yosef likely did not mean to grumble so. After finishing his reflection, he suddenly came to himself and seemed uncomfortable, as though he had just heard his own complaining.

“How boring all this talk must be for travelers.”

In a merchantlike manner, Yosef suddenly smiled and directed his gaze to the furnace.

“Have you had enough yet? There’s plenty of fish, so feel free to have as much as you like.”

Six skewers were lined up at Myuri’s feet, the ends all burned. They all seemed to be of the same length and thickness in the trick of the long, dark night.

“No, thank you. We are grateful for your hospitality.”

“By God’s will.”

Yosef proceeded to show them to their room. The reason the two were given a whole room to themselves was due to the lack of sufficient fuel, which meant the furnace could not be left on all night. It would be much too cold to sleep in the empty, vast atrium. Instead, their host gave them each a stone that had been heated by the furnace. Once placed inside a sack, the stone would warm them until morning if kept under the covers.

Then he brought them to a room that seemed to be typically offered to honorable captains of large commercial ships, and Myuri’s eyes widened at the sight of the woolen bed.

“I might get hungry sleeping in a bed like this.”

Myuri sounded like the daughter of wolves, but Col knew her being hungry was simply a matter of course.

As Myuri bounced around excitedly, Col found a worn metal washbowl, so he took out a handkerchief from his luggage, sprinkled the contents of a waterskin over it, and wrung it tightly.

“Look, Myuri.”

“Huh?”

Myuri had been sitting on the bed, staring blankly. He sighed because he noticed bits of charcoal from the fish still around her mouth.

“Honestly.”

Exasperated, he did not have the energy to point it out to her, so he walked over and wiped her face with the wet handkerchief.

“You are a girl. Are you not bothered by how salty your body feels after a day at sea?”

At first, it seemed as though she would resist, but then she started to point out places she wanted him to wipe. He wiped her cheeks, her temples, her forehead, and both sides of her nose. When he refolded the handkerchief to switch to the clean side, her wolf ears and tail popped out. She showed her neck to him as a sign for him to wipe that, too, and her tail began to wag out of impatience.

“This really goes to show how thankful we are for the baths at Nyohhira.”

Myuri’s ears and tail twitched in comfort as he wiped her neck, and then she sneezed, perhaps from the water.

“Sniff…Brother!”

Her nose began to run and she looked at him.

“After I wipe your face.”

When he quickly began to wipe her face with the few remaining clean parts he hadn’t used yet left on the handkerchief, Myuri immediately began to rub her nose with her sleeve.

“But still…”

As Myuri began to speak, she insisted he continue wiping, so he had no choice but to look after her thin ankles and small feet as well.

“…that was an amazing story.”

It was truly amazing that she was making him, the closest thing she had to a brother, towel off her feet as though he was her servant, but he knew it was partly because he couldn’t help but meddle whenever it came to Myuri.

“If it is true, that is.”

In the scripture, saints always washed the feet of the poor starting with the left foot for some reason, and it was done this way in ceremonies as well. Col had never thought about it, but he understood when he did it himself. It was simply because it was natural to start on the left for people who were right-handed.

“You don’t believe the story about the black Holy Mother?”

When he finished wiping her left foot, it felt rather cool. They had the heated stone, but Col was still worried that Myuri might get frostbite, so out from his luggage came a shell packed with bear oil for warding off the chill. With a knife, he chiseled a bit that had frozen from the cold, then warmed it with the fire of a fish-oil candle.

“Or maybe…there really is a witch.”

Myuri mused on her theory as he scooped the softened oil onto his finger and rubbed it along her foot. He looked up, and her expression was rather serious.

“Because the boat moved on its own and the water poured on them, too!”

She sounded slightly angry, perhaps because the expression on his face was irritated.

As he rubbed the oil into Myuri’s delicate skin, he spoke.

“Mr. Yosef said it himself—it was a coincidence.”

“…A coincidence?”

“It could even be called a misunderstanding or bias. In any case, nothing good will come of assuming these things are a blessing from God. It will most likely only lead to bad things.”

When he finished with her left foot, he started on her right, swabbing his finger into the oil.

“There are so many examples of this happening if you learn theological history. A mistaken faith is more wicked than no faith at all. It is not that difficult to teach people new things, but it is not easy to change a person’s way of thinking.”

Like making someone give up her crush on her older brother. The words came to mind, but he swallowed them.

Perhaps the story of the Black-Mother fell into a similar vein.

“So you must be cautious. There, all finished.”

Once he had finished coating both her feet in rubbing oil, he tapped them lightly and urged her to stuff them under the blanket. He used his hardworking handkerchief to plug the gaps in the window as its final job.

“But isn’t it the same as a person helping them? Is that still wrong?”

As he stuffed the cloth into the gap of the window, he turned back to Myuri because he thought she seemed rather stubborn on this topic.

Under the blanket, she was thinking hard.

“Someone who is oddly nice to you in town might want to kidnap you. It is the same thing.”

It was not something that could be easily believed. The scripture expounded the importance of not taking God’s name in vain.

He finished stuffing the cloth in the gap, and as he checked to see if the cold wind was no longer coming through, Myuri had pulled the blanket up to her nose.

“You’re always so mean whenever you talk about God.”

And for some reason, she was pouting.

“I am not being mean, just calm.”

Myuri did not respond. Only her ears twitched.

“Besides, our host told us we can see what remains of the miracle. It won’t be too late to pass judgment after actually seeing it for yourself.”

There were several similar sightseeing spots throughout the world. Col had heard many behind-the-scenes stories from guests who came to stay at the bathhouse he worked in for over ten years. He had the confidence that he would immediately be able to see through any false faith.

“Come now, move in a bit more.”

He blew out the light, and the room suddenly fell into darkness. Groping around, he tried to slide under the blanket when Myuri, who could see well in the dark, reached out to him. As he had just wiped her hands with a wet handkerchief, they were rather cold.

And yet, under four blankets, it was already much warmer thanks to her body heat. On top of that, the bed was woolen instead of straw, and there also was her fluffy tail. There was little chance they would get sick.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asked only tentatively.

Without any hesitation or consideration for him, Myuri buried her face in his chest, yawned, and shook her head. Maybe she was not answering his question but actually wiping away tears in her eyes. Either way, she did not seem discontent.

Once the light went out and they both stopped stirring, suddenly a number of sounds became clear. There was the sea wind knocking on the window, a clattering on the roof of the trading house, the bending of wood. Oddly louder than the rest were the waves.

This was not the bathhouse in Nyohhira that Col had grown so used to living in but a practically empty building on an island even closer to the edge of the world.

“Hey, Brother?”

Myuri whispered so quietly into his chest it was almost as though she had not spoken at all.

“It almost doesn’t feel real.”

Her whisper was almost drowned out by the crash of the waves outside.

“It doesn’t?”

When he responded with a question, her pointed animal ears twitched, brushing lightly over the tip of his nose.

She commented on the driftwood that looked like a deer’s antlers and the inn at the edge of the world.

They truly were near the world’s boundary in the middle of an adventure. This was not a place that could be reached with only the commitment for a leisurely stroll.

Myuri inhaled deeply in his arms until her body puffed out a little.

“I’m happy.”

Perhaps the adventure she had always dreamed of felt just like this.

She exhaled, and her body shrunk and grew softer. A helpless, fragile girl who seemed like she might break if he squeezed hard enough.

He could tell that she fell asleep right away.

He usually found himself frustrated with how easily she fell asleep, but earlier that day she had thrown up everything, then filled her stomach with a strange-looking yet delicious fish.

She was so very much a child still. He patted her head, smiled slightly, then relaxed, too.

Sleep came for him quickly and wrapped his consciousness in bolts of silk.

He had a tough time accepting the story of the Black-Mother at face value. Though it was a problem that would require much investigating and thinking, he was only supposed to fulfill his given role.

His role as a servant to Hyland and a good guardian to Myuri as her elder brother.

The waves tirelessly lapped up against the shore. And the inside of the blanket was very warm.

The next day before they departed, Yosef gave them a fragment of flat wood with a letter inscribed on it.

“You are honored guests from Sir Stefan in Atiph, after all; there are lots of rowdy folks out there. When your ship is inspected, please show them this piece of wood.”

An insignia was burned onto it, likely written in the local language. It must have been some sort of passport.

“Show that letter to the people of the church in the port town of Caeson on the main island. They should welcome you with hospitality.”

“There is a church there?”

Col had heard that the northern islands were rather far from the Church’s sphere of influence, so that was unexpected. He thought that only monasteries for worshipping the Black-Mother had been independently established.

“We might call it a church, but it’s more of a place to stay, paid for and managed by the big companies that want to do trade in the northlands. Because we have to work together in foreign countries, of course.”

It was very mercantile logic to work together where there was profit to be gained even between otherwise fierce competitors. In this harbor, where each company split off into their own trading houses, Col and Myuri were still in familiar territory. From here on out, they would be stepping foot into an unexplored world.

“They may tell you more about the Black-Mother.”

“Thank you.”

“Then, you must go to the monastery on the main island. If the brother there accepts you, there will be nothing you won’t be able to do.”

The building of the monastery may have also originally been meant to influence the people to stand up to the pope’s army that could try to cross the sea.

And its monk, who sat at the center of the Black-Mother faith, would be the key to determining whether this faith was genuine. Col had to meet him.

“Safe travels.”

Yosef smiled while bidding them farewell, standing in the doorway of the trading house. His canine companion sat obediently at his feet. Perhaps it was because Myuri was not nearby, but the dog seemed a bit friendlier.

Col bowed and headed to the port, and the morning sun stung his eyes.

The moment they had gotten off the ship yesterday, they were greeted with a fierce feeling of desolation, but seeing the small island under a clear, pale-blue sky made it seem less oppressive.

There was greenery visible against the snow on the rocky, bare hills, and goats dotted the scenery, wandering about grazing on grass. Even on the beach, which looked like the end of the world yesterday, there were seabirds resting on driftwood, along with islanders busily gathering seaweed that would be used for fertilizer—it was a lively place.

Among the islanders was one nosy traveler child, trying her best to peek at the seaweed. It was none other than Myuri.

“Myuri, we’re going!” he called out to her.

She immediately looked at him but reluctantly gazed down at her feet again before giving up, hauling her luggage on her back. He had noticed that she had gotten up surprisingly early, but he now knew that after wolfing down her breakfast, she had come to the beach to search for amber.

“Did you find any?” he asked with a dry smile, but she glumly shook her head. “It will not be easy.”

Though it was cheaper in value compared to other precious stones such as gold or silver, amber was more popular as jewelry.

If it were that easy to find some on a beach, they would have no problems.

Myuri sighed and exhaled breathily from her nose like a cow, blowing out white vapor, and then opened her gloved hand. There were small brown bits that looked like earwax.

“When I went to go look, they found some right away for me! Even though I couldn’t find any after looking so hard!”

There were children about the same age as Myuri among those gathering seaweed. They were probably showing off their kindness as locals to the outsider who had come from the distant south. Of course, the kind of amber that she had in her hands was much too small to have any value.

“Of course. There have been many times when others easily found truths in the scripture that I could not, even though I read it so much.”

Then Myuri, who was wearing so many layers that the outline of her body had grown square, shrugged her shoulders.

“That’s especially true because you only see half of half of the world.”

He sighed, thinking about how he had spoken out of consideration for her only to be met with such a response, but then he noticed Myuri looking up at him happily.

“But don’t worry! Instead, I’ve found a lot of good things about you that no one else has noticed yet!”

He truly felt exasperation when she said that.

He could not bring himself to let that stand, so he replied, though it made him a bit embarrassed.

“Let me just say this now, but when I worked in the bathhouse, I had to turn down invitations from many women, you know.”

There were a great many beautiful dancers and musicians at the bathhouses in the hot spring village of Nyohhira. Of course, they were not children like Myuri but wonderful women who could navigate the world by their own wit.

But instead of becoming angry with him, Myuri grinned, unaffected.

“You didn’t turn them down, you just ran away.”

“Urgh—”

Much like how Col had watched over Myuri ever since she was born, Myuri had also been watching him ever since she came into this world. He did not hide how he acted before women that decorated themselves like birds, with chiseled chests and necks.

He was silent as Myuri had nailed him where it hurt. She grinned again.

“Well, Mother says a good woman can love everything, including the pitiful parts. So no need to worry, okay?”

“…”

There were no words. Then, he looked down at her and smiled back.

He did not know if he should point out the insolence of calling a man who was practically her older brother and twice her age “pitiful” with a smile, or if he should describe the arrogance of believing that she was a good woman even though she could not tell if he was a grown man or not.

But he shook his head, changing his mind. Myuri was a smart girl. She would naturally learn her place in the world as she got older. His job as her brother was to trust that she would manage that. Though some of her bites stung quite a bit for a pup, he decided to be the adult and weather through them.

“Of course. I look forward to the day you won’t give me any worry.”

He smiled, while Myuri looked as though the prey she held firmly in her teeth had just slipped away.

“Sheesh, Brother, I’m being serious!”

“I am, too. Besides, my head is filled with worry about our journey to the next island. You had three servings of fish soup for breakfast this morning. Will you really be okay? You were gobbling up all those fine-looking sardines, head to tail.”

“Urgh…”

This time, it was Myuri’s turn to be speechless. As though she was vividly recalling her terrible seasickness yesterday after seeing the ship, her face stiffened.

“I-I’ll be fine!”

Of course, there was no proof of that. But positivity was one of her good points. At the very least, Col would trust in that.

“Be sure to lie on your back and look at the sky.”

“…If I do that, then I won’t be sick?”

Her cheekiness had completely disappeared. She was staring at him, uncertain.

“Of course. God is up there, you know.”

Then she suddenly frowned and spoke with a pout.

“But the one I believe in is you, Brother.”

She was pressuring him with her stare, but it made him smile instead.

“Then, I would appreciate it if you listened to me a little bit more.”

Then he patted the hood that covered her head.

“No, that’s not it!”

She started to protest, but he smiled and dismissed it.

The sky was blue, and the breeze was calm.

Even if a witch really was waiting for them beyond the sea, he had a feeling that it would all somehow work out.

Good weather meant good visibility.

Yosef saw them off as the ship circled the island and began heading north. They were finally entering the northern islands proper. They were continually surprised as little islets appeared one after another.

“It’s just full of islands. I would never be able to tell them apart.”

Myuri, unable to stay lying down the entire time, would sometimes suddenly get up after tossing and turning. At the moment, she rested her face on the ship’s railing and gazed out across the water.

“I can’t find trees anywhere. It looks so cold. They should just bring some from Nyohhira.”

Every island was rocky, with only a bit of grass growing on each. There, they saw the daily lives of wandering goats and their attendant shepherds, craftsmen repairing rope on the beach, or people drying fish in front of their houses.

Serene was a nice word for it, but Col easily imagined how every day must have been a struggle.

If they could not go fishing for several days after a storm, then their food supply would suddenly dwindle. If their house was damaged, no trees grew around these parts, so supplies would have to be ordered for any repairs to be done. Even the boats, which supported their entire livelihood, were fashioned out of wood; the foundations of their lives were terribly fragile.

The ship they were riding on had unloaded most of its cargo at the previous port, but the villagers along the shore would stop moving once the commercial vessel came into view, their eyes blank with desire. An image appeared in Col’s mind of a ragged little girl gazing up at a noble on horseback, wearing jewels that she would never touch. If the villagers had just one crate of cargo that was packed onto the ship, then their lives would improve greatly.

“I’m sure the faith here is real.”

“…?”

He murmured absently, and Myuri looked at him with a questioning expression on her face.

At the end of the day, people had no choice but to pray if, after gathering everything they could, it was still not enough.

It was a real crutch in order to persevere against the blustering wind.

“I pray that those gaps are filled with the right thing, however.”

The people born in this region kept the figure of the Black-Mother on them every time they got on a ship not simply as a precaution. It was because they desperately wished for something to support them.

And it was a single monk who created the figures of the Black-Mother that formed the bedrock of this region’s faith. If that monk was spreading the figures in accordance with the true faith, then Col could expect that the followers were genuine as well. That was his hope now.

The ship pressed forward. On the way, the weather occasionally worsened—it even snowed once—but the wind was never terrible, and nothing hindered their trip.

On one island, they stayed the night at the only man-made structure, which seemed as though it crouched beneath a sheer cliff above. Before the sun rose the next day, they were already departing. It was terribly cold but there was no wind, and as he huddled together with Myuri, whose eyes suggested she was still half-asleep, he watched over her while they meandered along the forest on the small island. But things changed just as the sun rose.

They suddenly exited into an open area.

Col thought the sudden change in scenery had given him a dizzy spell, but the truth was that the ship suddenly began to rock. Unlike the narrow passages between islands they had traversed up until that point, the waves were taller now since there was room for the wind to blow freely. The sail billowed painfully in the wind, and the mast creaked with the sound of gnashing teeth. Their sea journey had quickly become an adventure.

“Are you all right?”

A wave crashed against the ship, and the wind fanned the water across the deck.

Col hurriedly tried to fetch his oiled, leather cloak, but Myuri had awoken and was gripping the side of the ship with both hands, staring out at the sea, enraptured.

“Wow…There’s a lake…in the sea…”

When she said that, he thought he saw a clear line drawn in the sea. There the color grew darker. It was likely because the seafloor suddenly dropped off at the bottom, but at a second glance, he could see that the boundary was strung out along the islands, circling them. There was most definitely a lake in the middle of the sea.

Another gust of wind came. It blew back Myuri’s hood, whipping her long hair about. However, the silver-haired girl paid no mind to it, enthralled by the severity of the north.

The wind started to feel like ice at some point, leaving no difference between the cold and pain. In just a few moments, they became aware that the season they had felt before was more like spring. Then, when he considered that this was how it usually was only after the most difficult part of winter, he was hit by something similar to fear.

But disregarding that, it seemed that the lake in the sea was a kind of crossing for aquatic journeys because they soon began to see other ships. Ice clung to Col’s eyelashes, and no matter how many times he rubbed his eyes before looking out across the water, he could always see the imposing figures of massive ships built for long ocean journeys with three or even four decks, as well as commercial ships for transport operated by only one or two crew similar to the one they were riding on.

Everywhere people were carrying out their lives as normal.

Myuri, who was typically noisy, quietly watched the other vessels crossing the sea. As she breathed puffs of white, her hands grew red, gripping the railing against the buffeting wind, ice, and waves. It seemed she had even forgotten about her ears and tail, which usually popped out whenever she got excited.

“…Is that…a ship?”

It seemed she did not even have the time to be seasick, murmuring like she was finally coming back to reality.

“But…it’s pitch-black…and so…huge!”

He stood next to her as she doubted the way ahead of them. Widening his stance, he planted his feet in anticipation of the rocking and rolling of the ship as he looked forward.

“That…doesn’t seem like a ship. More like a mountain. The black parts are a forest.”

“Mountain?”

It sounded like she was asking why there would be mountains in the sea, but on closer examination, anyone could tell almost instantly that it was their destination. Once they could clearly see the ridgeline of the mountains beyond their hazy vision, the number of ships around them grew. This must have been the main island, the center of the northern islands.

Col brushed off from his clothes icy drops, which no longer melted when he touched them. He covered Myuri’s head with her hood again, then stuck the woolen scarf around her neck.

She seemed rather bothered by it, but she did not make the greatest effort to resist as she watched the route ahead of them.

Fair winds allowed the ship to head straight for the island at a great speed.

What finally came into view was the first decent, stylish-looking port town they’d seen since leaving Atiph, along with a mountain that sat like a king in his throne, lording over the lake behind it.

There was no other mountain that could be called so majestic.

As Col stood, awestruck, Myuri suddenly giggled.

“Heh-heh, look, Brother. That mountain looks like a king pulling up his pants.”

“What?”

When she mentioned it, he saw that the foliage was different around the center of the mountain and the foothills were darker than the rest. It certainly looked like someone pulling up their pants to their stomach. Then, he noticed the snow on the treeless peak resembled a crown, and everything suddenly looked silly. At the same time, his eyes were filled with mirth as he admiringly glanced out of the corner of his eye at Myuri, who was staring innocently at the scenery.

The world she saw was always colored with a fun and exciting light.

“Hmm? What’s wrong, Brother?”

She noticed his gaze, her eyes wide.

“It’s nothing. You are always just like yourself.”

“Huh?”

She looked up at him blankly, like a cat that had been tricked. He merely patted her on the head through her hood, dodging the question.

“Oh God, please watch over us on our journey.”

The ship rocked, and water from the waves sprayed them as they made their way to the mountain king.

The roofs on the buildings were large and steeply slanted, perhaps to keep the snow from building up. They were built closely together, resembling a group of people huddling low after being blown together by the wind.

Caeson, the port on the main island, was certainly quite large and packed with both people and ships, but perhaps it seemed that way because Col and Myuri had grown so used to the lonely sights since leaving Atiph. If they bothered to stop and spend the time, they would have easily been able to count the buildings and people they saw up until then.

And yet, Col was relieved to see people chatting and laughing by the snowy roadside. The bustle and warmth of many people was present. On the corner, there was a large snow sculpture, its hands and face made out of sticks.

“Is that the church? Thank you.”

He asked directions from a passerby, who pointed upstream of the river that flowed through the port. It was rather wide and deep. As no bridge had been built, the townspeople used ferries to get from one bank to another.

Perhaps that was why there were not many people on the streets along the river, and even snow that had been marked with footprints was still piled rather high. He looked at the river that flowed from its mouth up on the mountain, thinking it looked like a rip, as though someone had tried to tear the island itself in half.

“Come, Myuri, let’s go.”

He pulled his scarf up to his mouth and held Myuri’s hand as they made their way toward the church in town.

“Is that where the guy making the dolls is?”

“They are not dolls. They’re figures of the Holy Mother.”

“And that’s different?”

It would be difficult to explain the significance to someone without faith, so he could only groan.

“And we’re not going to the monastery?”

“We’ll be staying at the church. The monastery is different. By the way, as we were nearing the port, the monastery was visible from the ship. Did you see it? There should have been a smaller island a short distance away, and I believe it is located there.”

“What? Oh, uh, I think I saw something like a small shrine, but…Wait, someone lives there?”

Sharp-sighted Myuri had indeed found it. They probably passed it when he was putting warmer clothes on her while she stared out at the passing scenery.

Then her eyes suddenly began to sparkle.

“No way, someone actually lives in a place like that? Seriously?”

Her nose, bright red from the cold, was twitching, as though she had caught the whiff of adventure.

“Is it really that exciting?”

“Definitely. The waves were crashing up against it, and there were huge rocks all over the place. It was really cool! I was sure it was an altar for sacrificing goats, but…Mhmm. It definitely looks like a house for a sorcerer who controls lightning and walks on the sea.”

In the decades of war between the Church and the pagans, the Church tried to eradicate the kind of faith where people worshipped those very sorcerers. After the war, there were few who still held on to such beliefs, but those legendary figures still remained alive in people’s minds as the subject of adventure tales and in writing.

Though they were often depicted as evil people who needed to be subdued, anything was fine for Myuri as long as it excited her.

“Oh man, I can’t wait. I bet there are stairs leading down to underground mazes and doors we should never, ever open!”

There was certainly a big misunderstanding occurring somewhere, but Col did not know where to start.

“Oh, Brother, what should we do if there’s a dragon down in the labyrinth? Should we get Mother?”

To Myuri, the line between dreams and reality was fuzzy. She really looked like she was enjoying herself. The problem was that her mother was indeed a kind of spirit, one that normally lived deep in the shadows of the woods.

But still, in order to make sure that such a young, easily influenced girl would not grow up oddly, he had to draw the proper lines and teach her the proper ways of the world.

Though he was cowardly and weak in many things, Col could still teach certainty in a world full of uncertainties. He had, at the very least, studied hard every day to know what was right.

The two of them continued on and eventually came to a large portcullis. He could tell it was a church because he could see, on the other side of the stone wall, the crest of the Church fluttering in the wind. But if he had to describe what he saw, he would have called it a fortress.

“Wow…”

The portcullis was currently raised and was fashioned from thick wood—a sword or ax in the hands of a human would not make so much as a mark on it. It appeared to have been designed with war in mind, an impression that was only reinforced by the length of the path extending from the portcullis and how thick the stone walls were. On top of that, there were unique-looking holes looking down through the ceiling above the path, and Col could see that they were charred. They were holes meant for pouring boiling oil onto attackers to force a retreat.

“The…church?” Myuri asked.

Even she was dumbfounded by how imposing it seemed.

“Even Mr. Yosef said so—it is likely a sanctuary.”

“Huh…You mean, like there’s important treasure inside?”

The optimistic Myuri’s eyes were sparkling, but that was not it.

“No. I am talking about rules of the adult world.”

While she stared up at him blankly, Col pulled on the cord that was dangling by the gate, which rang a little bell. Before long, a door on one side of the path opened, and a soldier holding a spear appeared. He wore hard leather rather than metal armor because the latter would have stuck to his skin.

“Oh, a traveler boy, ’ey?”

He had the same reaction as Yosef, but he did not seem surprised because traveling clergymen often came to borderlands.

“An introduction from Sir Yosef of the Debau Company.”

Col presented the letter and the piece of wood, just in case.

“I don’t need that.”

The soldier did not take the piece of wood, which meant this really was a unique place.

“Under the orders of a noble, you have traveled through Atiph to the distant northern seas to survey…I see. You’ve come far.”

The soldier shrugged his shoulders, neatly folded the letter, and returned it to Col.

“If at all possible, we would like to stay here while we are in the area.”

“Of course, I don’t mind. That’s what it’s here for. A guest of the Debau Company is a guest of ours.”

The soldier walked off, his body language inviting them to follow.

“Let me just say this now, but missionary work is forbidden in town. The folks here follow God’s teachings, but it’s a bit different from how southerners see it. Are you aware of that?”

“The Black-Mother, you mean?”

The soldier nodded, relieved.

“Also, I’ve heard there’s been religious riots down in Atiph. The people here are sensitive about tension with the Church. Don’t let anything funny happen.”

It appeared that the effects had already rippled this far.

They soon passed through the walls, exiting into a rather spacious courtyard. With one glance, Col could tell why straightaway. Crates and trunks wrapped in straw were stacked here and there, all of them under the banners of large, familiar commercial firms. There was of course the Debau Company, as well as that of the Ruvik Alliance, which once owned more ships than any king, lauded as the strongest at sea the world over. This was a place without any greater authority to rely on, a shared base maintained by the merchants from large companies engaging in long-distance trade and a sanctuary to which they could escape to if something happened.

Though the Church would have typically taken similar measures in pagan land where its authority did not extend to, this place also fell under that umbrella.

At that very moment, there were a multitude of merchants all around, accounting for cargo and maintaining their draft horses. Myuri was looking around, entranced by everything, but the soldier pointed at her and looked at Col with inquiring eyes.

“And one important thing. This is a church, after all, and a small one. Women are seeds of trouble. Wives that come with their husbands and maidservants all sleep in special accommodations. The same goes for slaves.”

It was not odd for the slave trade to be present in economically depressed areas. From the disgusted look directed his way, Col could tell that soldier may have thought he was a softhearted priest who had come to take home a slave girl who he had found in the south.

But whatever the truth may be, what he needed to think about first was that he could not leave Myuri alone in this place where they had no one else to rely on. One of the few rules he gleaned from traveling in the past was to always keep valuables within reach.

However, there was no doubt that Myuri was a girl, and no matter how convenient it was, this was still a place of rest for the lambs of God who wore the crest of the Church around their necks. Col, who was striving to become one of those servants himself, could not bring himself to lie.

As he stood speechless, Myuri removed her hood and scarf and revealed her long silver hair in the snow.

“There are lots of perks to dressing like a girl,” she said and grinned.

The soldier studied her as she did so, and he suddenly bared his left canine.

“Clever kid. You’re gonna make something of yourself one day.”

“Heh-heh, thanks.”

She smiled freely, her expression calm.

“There should be someone in the biggest building there. You can ask them your other questions.”

Long ago, Col had once stayed on the grounds of a grand monastery. What they saw now had a very similar feel to it.

A big church building stood in the center, and starting from the south there was the courtyard, vegetable garden, stables, then dining hall and such all surrounding it, as well as residence halls for guests.

Since it was a base for merchants, the courtyard was bigger than that of the monastery, as were the places to eat and sleep. The stables were not as spacious, however, since this area relied mostly on ships for transport.

“I see. Thank you very much.”

“Not at all.”

Before the soldier returned to his post, he showed how he had grown to like Myuri by bumping fists with her.

“How was that, Brother?”

He had just witnessed a moment of the tomboyish Myuri gaining a strange sense of confidence again.

“Honestly, you spout lies so easily.”

“What? But I didn’t lie.”

It was certainly true that she had not told a lie. Her words were simply the truth. It was the soldier who had misunderstood, and Col himself had used that technique several times before.

But there was a clear difference between the two of them. Myuri was using it to enter a place she was not allowed. He could not come to terms with his conscience as to whether or not he should overlook it.

His reproach and confusion must have been visible on his face because his companion wore an offended expression.

“But, Brother, if you really thought it was that bad, then you would have confessed the truth then and there.”

“…”

“You didn’t because it was convenient for you, right?”

It was true, so he could not utter a sound.

“Then, it’s fine. It wasn’t my pure and righteous brother that lied anyhow,” Myuri said, her words sounding like satire, and she hugged his arm.

Nothing frightened a girl who did not believe in God at all.

“My faith feels like it’s about to waver.”

“You can give up whenever you like, you know. Then we can get married.”

“…”

It seemed this was her trap. She had just chased him and he fell for it. His only response was to stare at her with tired eyes. It was like she was grinning down at him from the lip of the hole.

He sighed; then knowing he could not continue like this, he spoke.

“Act properly next time.”

Myuri shrugged as though placating him.

Then, as the soldier had suggested, he opened the door to the big building, white smoke puffing from its chimney.

The hallway extended straight ahead of them and seemed even colder, made of stone, but there appeared to be an open hall just to their left. He could hear merry voices coming from beyond the door standing ajar.

“It seems like a good, lively place…What’s wrong?”

Myuri had her nose shoved into the open part of the doorway.

“It smells…weird…,” she said, and he sniffed the air.

“Ah, that’s the smell of peat.”

“Peet?”

“Do you remember the story about what jet is? It’s like muddy coal. They gather it in fields and grasslands. It’s cheap, but it’s flawed in that it does not burn well and has a peculiar smell. You may be able to find it on this island as well.”

Myuri had a good sense of smell due to the blood of wolves flowing through her. Perhaps that was the reason.

“If it’s too much, we can arrange other accommodations for you.”

Even in Nyohhira, there were quite a number of people who left the mountain because they could not stand the smell of sulfur. While some residents were used to it and it did not bother them at all, there were others who could not stand it.

That was what he had in mind when he made his offer, but Myuri, pinching her nose closed, glared at him for some reason.

“Wh-what’s wrong?”

“That’s how you’re going to keep me from traveling with you, isn’t it?”

It seemed she was now on guard, since he often scolded her, asking if she wanted to quit traveling whenever she overslept, overate, or said something selfish.

“I am just being considerate.”

“…Hmph.”

Though she did not say outright, Brother, you idiot, she did look away in a huff with a frown on her face.

“More importantly, let’s quickly secure our room and go investigate.”

He had not come this far to babysit or relax. The commotion in Atiph had created such big ripples that it could be felt this far out into the sea, and its effects would grow bigger yet with time. He needed to wrap up here in the northern islands as soon as possible, then head to the next job.

Myuri was still grimacing from the odor of the peat, but as they crept in through the door, a person approached from the hall.

“Oh!”

His voice was rather pleasant, perhaps because it reflected his personality, but it was more likely because they were wearing similar clothes.

“We don’t get your sorts much this time of year—travelers?”

It was an elderly priest, the crest of the Church hanging from his neck. His cheeks were red not from the cold but probably from alcohol.

Setting that aside for now, Col gave him a visitor’s bow.

“Pardon us. I am Tote Col. I have come to this land under the orders of a certain noble. Further details are in this introduction from Sir Yosef of the Debau Company.”

“Oh-ho.”

The priest blinked in surprise before walking over and taking the letter. His hands were soft and warm, though there was most certainly alcohol on his breath.

“I see, I see. I am the master of this church, Reicher Freedhoff. This means you must have come in search of land suitable for a monastery. Oh, no need to explain anything. Those sorts of people always come. For some reason, southerners have the misconception that this is heaven’s front gate.”

In addition to being drunk, it seemed he was typically like this. He plainly spoke of things that were not often said aloud, wearing the smile of a pleasant old man. Then he gave a troubled sigh that smelled heavily of liquor.

“Good or bad, this is just the edge of a cold sea. If you search too hard, you’ll only find danger. Especially during this season, there’ll be no help if you fall into the water, and there are the pre-spring storms. Occasionally, people like you obsessively investigate islands no one else goes near, and what a commotion it makes.”

Reicher hiccupped and shrugged his shoulders.

“Do you mean a spiritual commotion?”

As Col probed, he noticed a strong light in the man’s eyes, fitting for a priest who ran a place ringed by the stone walls of a fortress.

“Are you inquisitors?”

Had they both been knights or mercenaries, this would have been the moment they each put their hands on their swords.

However, after Reicher studied him, his gaze finally dropped to what was latched onto Col’s back.

Col answered slowly as the priest looked at Myuri.

“If I were, then I think I would choose more carefully what I bring along.”

Inquisitors, often called executioners or torturers for good reason, would not walk around with a young child in tow.

“So it would appear. Or if you two actually were, then it looks like the Church is managing to get away with keeping the people here and there in good faith.”

Then the priest suddenly sneezed.

This man must have had some sort of reason why he occupied a place of worship in such a remote area, one where the Church had no official presence at that. It did not seem to be because he was a faithful servant to the Church.

“It’s cold here. Why don’t you come in…? Ah, we need to take care of your luggage first.”

“And we would like to borrow a room, as well.”

Reicher smacked his forehead and smiled.

“Oh, oh right. You can’t relax if you drink still wearing your traveling clothes.”

He laughed, but then under the deep wrinkles of his eyelids, he shot a glance with a surprisingly alert glint at Myuri.

“By the way, I’m sure you’ve heard the rules of the church from the guard at the gate, am I right?”

“We did. He said girls stay in a separate room.”

Myuri stared back at Reicher, grinning while she spoke. It was rather courageous of her, or perhaps insolent. Reicher stared blankly at her, but after blinking sleepily, he sneezed again.

“Hic. Pardon me. Then, let me take you to your room. There are few people here at the moment, so there are good rooms open.”

He slipped by them to head outside.

“Ooh, it’s cold!”

The cool air must have felt good to a body warmed by liquor. He spoke with good cheer, with Col and Myuri following after him as he walked off.

When the people working in the courtyard saw Reicher, they called out to him and waved, even the ones far away. Though he was drunk during the daytime, all evidence indicated he was a beloved priest.

Not to mention that, barring the Black-Mother, his prayers of safety were the only thing that offered the people solace when they anticipated a journey at sea.

“Well, to start where I left off…”

Reicher began to speak as he walked around, checking the dried fish hanging from branches instead of fruit in what must have originally been the vegetable garden.

“Like I was saying, huge uproars. And they don’t come back after leaving in a small boat. Sometimes they fall into the sea; other times it’s shipwrecks that drift away.”

There are those who expect a certain holiness in the severe northern seas, hemmed in by snow, permeated with cold and clear air. Reicher must have seen off so many people with that attitude in the past; he now shrugged his shoulders in defeat.

“Most of those nobles don’t know anything about this land…The closest are from Winfiel and Ploania. The farthest come all the way from countries in the south. At any rate, when those people who come burdened with responsibilities but wind up dying, we are always the ones regarded with suspicion.”

How had Hyland represented the people who controlled this land?

“I heard that pirates are the ones in charge of this area.”

Col’s comment made Reicher look back at him gloomily over his shoulder before sighing.

“I can’t really say much to that, because they are pirates, no matter how you look at it. But they’re also not pirates of any sort.”

Reicher continued as he fixed the knot in the string of one of the dried fish.

“They typically protect trading ships and watch to make sure real pirates don’t plunder fishing boats or ravage any of the islands. Well, it’s easy to understand if I say we’re responsible for how difficult they are to reason with through talking.”

To put it in more familiar words, they were a self-defense force.

“Without them, we would not be able to keep these wayward waters in line. Our resources are limited, so if everyone acted as they pleased, we soon wouldn’t be able to maintain our livelihoods. The threat of violence is like the hoop that keeps barrels together. Without it, we wouldn’t even be able to collect taxes from those who come to work here each season. Our land would be carved up by outsiders and soon vanish. They exist out of necessity.”

The crunching snow echoed beneath their feet. Every couple of steps, a puff of white appeared and hung by Reicher’s left shoulder, then disappeared into the air.

Col could tell by his posture that while the priest considered the pirates his ally, he was also resigned to their presence.

“But those who only hear about them through stories make a lot of noise, claiming Oh! The pirates killed folks from the south in secret because they don’t like them! Those who don’t know how truly terrifying the seas are here don’t heed the locals’ warnings, leading to accident after accident.”

As Reicher finished speaking, he stopped in front of a spectacularly large building.

“Here we are.”

The entrance was up several stone steps, likely as a way to keep the door from being snowed in.

The foundation of the lodging house was made of stone as well, but everything above was wood. Col had spent many winters sleeping on stone floors, but he had only been able to stand that until his healthy teenage years. Already past twenty, he was relieved to see he would not have to relive those days.

“Go down the hall and you’ll find the assistant priest who runs the house—you’ll get your sheets and blankets from him. He’ll also tell you what room you’ll be staying in. Feel free to leave a donation when you do.”

He smiled at them pointedly.

He then spoke again, maintaining his expression.

“An empty island is ideal for building a monastery on, but if people don’t live on those islands in this sea, then I think it’s best to consider them uninhabitable. They are too dangerous because the currents around them are too complicated or there are too many rocks just underneath the surface of the water. Well, you wouldn’t be able to tell by only looking. A lot like faith, isn’t it?”

Reicher smiled and bumped one of his shoes against Col’s, shaking the snow from it. Though Col could appreciate how unassuming the old priest acted, he could not find the heart to laugh along with the joke.

“And so, the people around these parts aren’t very welcoming to those who are clearly southern priests. Just sniffing around so much is enough of a nuisance, but then they wind up dying in accidents, which brings down suspicion that no one needs again. Of course, the people who interfere with trade by straining their relationships with the locals are just as much as a nuisance.”

Reicher was clearly telling them to behave themselves, keep their distance, stay for a few days, then go home.

A positive way of thinking about it was to take it as a kind warning from a resident of this sanctuary.

“I cannot, however, go home empty-handed.”

Col tried resisting, and the elderly priest suddenly shrugged in a drunken manner, giving up.

“Either take on a local as your guide, or if you’re on your own, then you must ask a local before doing anything. Especially if you plan to go out to sea.”

Reicher recited his advice, still standing in the doorway, facing them as they stood inside.

“That will keep you safe.”

Then, without any chance for them to respond, he shut the door on them.

After the distancing sound of crunching snow completely vanished, only silence remained.

Myuri readjusted the luggage on her back and looked toward Col.

“He doesn’t like us.”

Col looked down at her, and she was smiling.

“Travelers are always treated like this. There are few places that welcome them.”

“Really? But everyone has so much fun eating together in Nyohhira.”

Col adjusted his packs as well before he urged Myuri along as the two of them walked down the hall.

“Nyohhira is rather unusual. Most places in the world do not welcome outsiders. The ones who disrupt the common people’s quiet lives are often outsiders.”

Myuri did not seem to really understand straight away, but she would come to do so in time as they continued to travel.

“That is why we must go about our business quietly at our destinations, especially in places with few people.”

Myuri knit her brows and looked up at him with a frown, as though saying, “You’re lecturing me again?”

But this was not about the teachings of God or consideration for others. It was more about telling someone how to stay alive if they became lost deep in the mountain woods.

With Col silently staring back at her, she seemed to understand immediately.

Myuri made an appropriate expression and nodded, gulping.

He wanted her to take this moment to understand that traveling was not all fun and excitement and that there was nothing better than living peacefully at home.

While he thought about this, Myuri suddenly spoke with a grave expression.

“It’s the same as when the king pretends to be a commoner, right? I hear about that a lot in stories.”

“…”

Myuri grinned—It’s all right, I know.

He thought that she really did not understand at all, but what he did know very well was her optimism.

Their room was small, and the bed was just two wooden trunks pushed together with a blanket laid over them.

But a room was still better than the large rooms and storage areas on the other floors—the facility was definitely constructed as a base for merchants’ trade.

He could imagine that comfort was a secondary concern at a base made for commerce, so he was right to have donated when they borrowed the sheets. It was a time in which even sins could be forgiven if the appropriate amount of money was offered to the Church.

And since the two of them managed to borrow a good number of blankets, they would be able to sleep in warmth and comfort.

Then, they had to put lunch together after dropping off their belongings, so they went back outside soon after. They decided to see the miraculous remains that Yosef had mentioned, so they asked the soldier at the gate. It turned out they were close enough to reach the site on foot. It was also in the opposite direction of the port, so they decided to go there first.

However, the snow on the roads was deep, and the guard recommended they wear woven straw boots over their shoes. Just as Col thought about how kind he was, the guard proceeded to ask for money. It seemed he was angling to make some pocket money on the side, but it was not a bad price so Col properly paid. There was also the wisdom of his merchant benefactor to consider. It was important to gain the favor of anyone possible when visiting a place. No one could say who might be able to help on another day.

There was no proper road leading to the miraculous ruins, so they traveled along the river and worked their way upstream. As they walked on what would be a field in the summer but was currently covered in snow, it did not take long before Col could feel himself sweating. His traveling shoes were already heavy, but he wore straw coverings over them. He had never found it so difficult to walk. But without the covering, the inside of his shoes would have become soaked; then, if he was lucky, his feet would be swollen from the chill, and if not, frostbite would settle in. The straw boots were indispensable during Nyohhira’s winter as well.

He was soon short of breath, but Myuri kept pushing forward with a bounce in her step, like a snow hare.

“Hurry up, Brother!”

Unlike the mountains, there were no cornices or streams on the island and Col was not worried they would lose their way since they walked along the river, but he grew irritated thinking about the path back. He wished they had brought a sled of some sort, but he shook his head, reminding himself they could not indulge themselves in luxury.

“Come on already, Brother!!”

Myuri had gotten so far ahead he could no longer make out her expression when she impatiently turned back to him and yelled.

Though the island looked small from the ship, with just a mountain and its foothills, Col was coming to realize that it was more than large enough for wide, flat fields. In summer, he could imagine how the endless snowfields became grass, producing a year’s worth of feed for the livestock.

A forest finally came into view, lying at the foot of the mountain. The miraculous ruins were apparently at the end of the road in the forest.

“You’re too fast!”

That was all he managed to say. A puff of white rose from where Myuri stood, perhaps because she sighed. She, of course, would not wait for him and rushed ahead.

But he did not hold a grudge against her apparent heartlessness. Instead, he was impressed with her youth and the strength to forge a path forward on her own. He thought about how he would be able to see this again when she got married, and he considered it a rehearsal.

He smiled dryly and continued to put one foot in front of the other.

When Col finally caught up to her footprints, he also reached the entrance to the forest. Myuri was sitting on a large, bulky rock and eating a large icicle. There were several hanging from a nearby tree, resembling so many spears.

He could tell she had waited quite a while because there were three round snow sculptures at her feet, some large enough to have needed an armful of snow. She had even given them faces made out of twigs.

“Brother, you almost remind me of Father.”

She was implying that he had no strength, but he did not even have the energy to reply to her that she had too much. His shoulders heaved, and Myuri watched him in exasperation before breaking the icicle in two and handing him a piece.

“Don’t eat too much or you’ll get cold.”

Even though Col was usually the one to caution her, it was Myuri that did so to him.

And it did not seem that Myuri had simply walked in a random direction, as she sat at the mouth of the road leading up to the mountain. Under the evergreens, whose needles never fell even in winter, there was a snowy path, hardened by footfalls.

He expected nothing less from a girl with wolf’s blood, raised in the mountains.

“But the ground here is kind of weird. Are all islands like this?”

The hardened snow did not seem like it was on a steep incline uphill, instead forming more of a gentle slope. Myuri had raised her question as Col followed after her, managing to keep up this time.

“What do you mean by weird?”

“That river’s weird, too.”

She stopped, turned back, and pointed. There was no undergrowth in this season, and they could see quite far even from the forest.

There were the footsteps they had left behind and the nearby river.

He wondered what was strange about it, then suddenly realized.

“…The color of the river is the same as the sea.”

Drawn in the snowy fields, there was a long, thin, dark-blue line.

“Yeah. That’s probably not a river but the sea.”

“The sea? But…”

They had come rather far inland from the mouth of the river. It could hardly be called an inlet, nor was it a canal. He could only think of it as a river when he saw how it snaked along.

But a river should have been much more active. The water was silent in the snowy fields.

“It certainly does look like a dead, blue snake, doesn’t it?”

As though it had stopped what it was doing and just lay there.

“And look.”

Myuri returned her gaze to the forest and pointed off to the side ahead of them.

“It ends there.”

The river ended suddenly. The blue water from the sea turned green at the water’s edge, washing the white snow. It was not pouring in, nor was it flowing.

“Maybe it was a river a long time ago,” he said, and Myuri looked back at him.

“Huh?”

She looked as though she had seen a mountain move.

“Is it that unusual? Mountains fall, forests dry up; it’s not odd for a river to dry up and die. Even more spectacular things happen regularly in your adventure stories, don’t they?”

Myuri’s face went red as she pursed her lips.

“…I—I don’t think what happens in books are real! You’re teasing me, right?”

This girl had only spent ten-odd years on this earth.

She had been raised in a hot spring village that seemed to stand on the boundary between dreams and reality, which muddled her perception of things even more.

“Even scenery can change a great deal with the passage of time. There are things such as cataclysms, which can be nothing but punishment from God, and even small things can trigger them. This world is not eternal. Eternity is reserved for God’s kingdom in heaven.”

Almost everything in this world was like a house of cards, destined to fall someday. That was why he wished to support people amid such uncertainty and cruelty.

He wished he could tell Myuri more about this, but she likely would not listen.

At least that was what he thought, but she was silent and wore a rather grave expression on her face.

Perhaps to her, the rivers and mountains would always and forever be as they were. Though she had never met a dragon or a wizard, the rivers and mountains had always been by her side.

“You learned something today.”

He approached her and placed his hand on her head.

“Everything fades with time. Dust will return to dust, ashes to ashes. That is why we must spend the time that God has given us fruitfully.”

He added that was why sleeping in was unreasonable, and she finally huffed, like her normal self.

“You always lecture me!”

“I wish I did not have to.”

“Sheesh!”

Though she was offended, her gaze returned to the end of the river and her cheeks also quickly deflated.

Then, she spoke, still facing away from him.

“But Mother said the same thing. I guess it’s true.”

He gulped unwittingly.

Myuri’s mother was a wolf and wheat spirit who either lived for hundreds of years or perhaps never aged—a being known as the wisewolf.

That was why, even though the wisewolf Holo traveled with a merchant she met in a village and fell deeply in love with him, she continually hesitated to cross that one line. Her partner was human, and his life would vanish in the blink of an eye. The passage of time could not be stopped.

But they rejected the natural laws of the world to grasp the happiness before them. Though it was destined to slip from their hands like sand, they believed their memories of taking hold of it would last forever.

How sad and how painful it must be.

And there was a chance that Myuri, blood child of Holo, would share the same fate.

Myuri was not human.

Col had vowed that he would always be her friend, but there were some things he could do nothing about.

Like her father Lawrence who, no matter how hard he worked, would one day without a doubt no longer be able to lift up and embrace his eternally young wife, no one could win against destiny.

“That’s why I…”

Myuri suddenly looked back at him, smiling.

“Like Mother taught me to do, I’m living every day to the fullest that I can.”

“Myuri…”

Her innocent smile was strength itself. She had the courage to keep walking forward, even if the road ahead of her was dark.

It could have been attributed to youthful ignorance, but it was more probably that she chose to live this way. Hers was a smile that told him he could believe that.

“…”

He grinned awkwardly, and she nodded, satisfied.

“That’s why I’ll eat any food I think looks good and sleep when I want to. There’s even a reason why I play when I want to, you know? You’re always talking about moderation, Brother, but there’s no time to be moderate!”

She puffed out her chest and spoke confidently.

He was almost touched by her speech. Then he dropped his fist onto her head.

“All that has nothing to do with a life of debauchery.”

“Aww!”

Myuri raised her voice in a whine, and she puffed out her cheeks.

“Brother, you dummy!”

“I am not a dummy. You need to stop trying to talk your way around people at some point. You can never be too careful.”

“I’m not trying to talk my way around anything!”

They walked along while arguing.

It looked like Myuri was throwing the usual childish tantrum, but he could somehow tell that she was doing it on purpose.

And there was still something she had not mentioned. Since she had the blood of the wisewolf in her, there was the possibility that she, too, would live for eternity—so it was possible that she was reaching out toward anything that caught her attention. However, what had caught her attention was not food, nor was it an amusing toy.

It was Col himself.

He had a sense that he understood why she did not mention that.

Had she said that she reached out to him because he, too, would eventually be gone, that would mean recognizing that he truly would no longer be around someday. The superstitious elderly often spoke of it: That which is said aloud soon becomes reality.

Myuri relentlessly complained that he was hardheaded, inconsiderate, a bully, but she clasped his hand as they walked side by side. He could even feel the strength of her grip through his thick gloves, like a little girl who could not go to the privy by herself in the middle of the night.

He could not reciprocate her feelings, but as an older brother, he did not consider it problematic to stand by his little sister’s side until she no longer feared the dark. Fate was something to be feared, and the only way to stand up to it was to pray, as miracles virtually never happened.

God was great because he was the one who could overturn everything.

As they continued up the snowy mountain path, black cliffs suddenly appeared out of nowhere. The pitch-black stones were so jagged they seemed evil, though not too tall, only reaching around Col’s height. The rock formations stretched forward on either side of the pair.

The path wound along the cliffs, heading for the river. Myuri peered curiously at the odd scenery, and she drew closer to sniff at the exposed stone of the cliffside.

“This is where the king’s clothes begin.”

Col had suddenly realized where they were, causing Myuri to look up as well.

“Wow, it is. The color of the leaves is different.”

The line they had seen from the water where the plant life changed seemed to be right where they stood.

“It changes so quickly, doesn’t it?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. It feels like there may be another reason why…”

“Another reason?”

“Like an earthquake, for example.”

Myuri did not ask what an earthquake was. It was perhaps the first time she had heard the word.

“There are times when the earth shakes violently, like a giant stomping around. When that happens, the ground sometimes breaks and can shift like this.”

He had been in lands like that when he was a wandering student much farther to the south, and so he occasionally experienced earthquakes. People often said that it was because God was angry with the evil deeds of humans, but since the northern pagan lands never knew anything about earthquakes, the wrath of God and other such explanations seemed far-fetched.

“Huh.”

Myuri’s response was dull.

“You believe some weird stories sometimes, Brother.”

And then, she went and said that.

“You don’t believe me? I have, numerous times, exp—”

“Are you sure you weren’t drunk? If the ground was moving like you say.”

Though she had no doubts about stories of pirates with daggers in their mouths, raising wild war cries, she was skeptical of the strangest things.

Exasperated, he followed after her, but the lay of the land, strangely, did not change.

As the cliffs consistently appeared to the right where the river was, they got closer and closer to the higher parts of the mountain. If it were a king pulling up his drooping pants to around his belly button, then they were walking on where his belt would be.

The black face of the cliffs was such a stark contrast to the snow, but there were several places that were covered in thick roots. If an earthquake really had happened, then it had been a long time ago. If he asked to hear the stories from the island elders, then they would certainly know of remaining legends.

As these thoughts whirled in his mind, Myuri had stopped ahead of him. She seemed brighter perhaps because the sunlight illuminated her. The glow could only be seen here, where trees did not grow, creating a clearing. The road, too, had been hardened and well-traveled, so it could have been used as a place for prayer.

In the sunshine, Myuri stood with her mouth agape, staring up at the mountain.

Wondering what was enshrined in the place, Col walked into the clearing.

Immediately after, a violent shiver ran down his spine.

“Wha…?”

An unbelievably giant serpent raised its head, as though it would strike at any moment.

“Wh-wha…?”

Col stared upward at the beast but had forgotten they were on a slope, so his posture crumpled and he fell squarely on his behind.

No, there was no time for this. He needed to get up, take Myuri’s hand, and run back into the forest—quickly!

The more he struggled, the farther his feet buried themselves into the snow, and the harder it became to get up.

When he finally stood and looked up, the serpent was in the same place with its mouth opened, unchanged.

He calmed his screaming heart, panting, then gazed up at it again.

What he saw was not the jaws of a giant serpent.

“…A cavern?”

The ceiling was high and wide. A great building of a large commercial firm could easily fit inside. What looked like fangs were overhanging stones, roots and ivy wrapped around them. The snow had the look of a white snake’s skin, and when Col examined the whole once more, he could see nothing but the giant serpent.

It appeared to be a rather deep cavern at first glance, but as his eyes adjusted, he could tell that it was actually quite shallow. The surface of the rock was the same pitch-black as the cliffs, and the unique roughness of its texture made him think of aberrant beings.

“Brother, are you okay?”

He had been so involved in what was in front of him that he had not noticed Myuri at all.

She brushed off the snow that covered him, and she helped him get up.

There was no mischievous smile on her face, perhaps because of how agitated he had become.

“Th-thank you. But what is…?”

“Someone’s offered flowers here, so this must be where they pray.”

Myuri pointed to where the serpent’s tongue would be if the opening was a mouth. Farther inside the cave, where the snow did not reach, there was a pile of rocks along with an unusual winter offering of flowers, just as Myuri had described.

Then, sitting quietly there at the top, was a figure of the Black-Mother.

“I wonder why her back is to us. Maybe someone’s idea of a prank?”

As Myuri had pointed out, the figure of the Holy Mother was facing the inside of the cave. Figures and statues in places of prayer typically faced the people praying, so it left a rather odd impression.

“Maybe there’s a monster inside.”

If the figure of the Holy Mother’s protection, which had the power to create miracles, was necessary, then it was possible.

“Should I turn into a wolf?” Myuri asked while she fished out the pouch full of wheat from her shirt.

As a person with the blood of a wolf spirit running in her veins, she could use the wheat her mother had passed down to become a wolf herself.

Col did not entertain the possibility that she could win against any towering serpent that came slithering out, but she could throw him on her back and quickly escape.

“There might be trouble if someone saw you, so…,” Col explained as he peered inside the cave, though it did not seem like anything was hidden inside.

And as he approached, he could clearly see that the cave was not deep enough to hide anything.

“I wonder what she’s looking at.”

Myuri stood by his side, examining the figure of the Black-Mother as it stared silently into the cave, and then she tilted her head. Though she had mentioned someone placing it backward as a joke, it did not seem to be an adequate explanation.

“Do you think they found the jewels here?”

“What?”

Her words were sudden, and he looked back at her.

“You know, the little doll here is made out of whatever that weird stuff was, right?”

Without a drop of respect in her, Myuri pointed and waved her finger at the figure of the Black-Mother.

“…You mean jet? But…”

He had seen mines in the past before, but this felt different compared to every other mine he had ever known. Mining operations always angled downward. The ground in this hole was flat, and the ceiling was extremely high. It should have been much easier to mine starting from the top rather than going upward. More importantly, it was hard to imagine that the figure was placed here in a hope that jewels would appear from this hole.

And he felt like he had seen this somewhere before. Where was it?

“Do you want to try and dig? Mother dug a hole and found water when Father asked her back when they were opening the bathhouse, right?”

As though Myuri’s inner seven-year-old boy was tingling, Col could see the ends of silver hair from the hem of her coat. Her wolf ears were likely sticking out already under her hood. On an island surrounded by a frozen sea, in such an intriguing place, a black figurine of the Holy Mother was being worshipped in an incomprehensible manner. Her curiosity was like a wasp’s nest that someone poked with a stick.

“Or maybe there’ll be water for that dead river if we dig.”

“What?”

As she spoke, Myuri headed farther into the cave, moving about the rocks at her feet.

Col watched her, holding his breath, and looked up toward the ceiling, then at the Black-Mother.

His body leaned backward, like he was reeling, because he began to move in reverse; he stepped behind himself because he had a certain hunch.

What had he first thought when they entered the clearing from the mountain path?

It was almost like a serpent was jumping out to attack them.

In that case, it was clear as to why the Black-Mother had her back to the outside.

He had seen this sight before. He had not been able to piece it together well because it was frozen in time.

The ground at his feet changed from black gravel to white snow. He took two, three steps back, looking at the whole image. The mouth of the serpent, which seemed as though it would attack him at any moment, started to look like something else.

“…”

What flowed along the river might not have been water. He looked back, and it became perfectly obvious as to where it was flowing. And then the Black-Mother.

“Brother, what’s wrong?”

Myuri emerged from the cave, her eyes screwed nearly shut due to the reflection of light on the snow.

“Hey, Brother?”

She pulled on his sleeve, and he finally came to.

“No…”

He shook his head and looked back into the cave once more.

Once he became obsessed with the idea, he could not shake it off. He was wrong in thinking that he had seen it somewhere before. He had heard a similar story before, and he knew it well.

“Broooootheeeeer?”

Myuri mischievously waved her hands around before his face but jumped when he finally looked at her.

He took her hand as she flinched, and he began to walk off.

“Huh? What?”

“There’s something we need to confirm.”

He pulled the confounded Myuri along, taking the road they had originally come from. It at first seemed like she would trip over herself, but the girl raised in the mountains did not stumble.

“Sheesh, Brother!”

He ignored her complaint as his head was already full of things he had to think about.

The Black-Mother faith was not a sham or a superstition. But as a faith, it still might be false.

His job was to judge whether or not the northern seas would make suitable allies for the just cause of the Kingdom of Winfiel in their fight against the Church.

From the gaps between the trees, he could see the port town of Caeson.

The dead river that split the island in two drew an azure line in the field of snow.