“All I ever asked from Your Highness was a little leniency. There’s no need to misuse your precious power.”
Ressas let out a deep sigh. A white puff of breath dispersed into the cold air. With a voice low and heavy as night, he asked,
“You are my Tither. The word misuse does not apply.”
“Your Highness.”
Seiyad realized it was time to set the record straight about what had happened in the cabin.
“Neither a guide nor a Tither exists for just one person. You have many Tithers who need your care. If you’ve already tested Purification with Zion Shildras, it means the two of you are compatible. Just like Stella Vetria, Zion Shildras doesn’t have a guide with high affinity. There are two Tithers like that.”
From the start, it had been impossible for Ressas to be his exclusive guide.
“Then isn’t it only natural for Your Highness, who shares high affinity, to handle Zion Shildras’ Purification instead?”
Ressas was compatible with every Tither, but Seiyad, already bound to Aster as his guide, could not afford to have two guides. Seiyad knew this from the beginning and had never planned to side with Ressas or stay by his side.
Of course, Ressas had turned out to be a far better guide than expected.
The sensation had been so overwhelming it could never be forgotten—a shock that rattled his soul. He had never felt his body so light, never experienced the disappearance of the cold that constantly clung to him. But such a feeling was too much of a luxury for a sinner like Seiyad. All he needed was just enough strength to keep the Rampage at bay. And if the hypothesis was true—that someone who had received Aster’s Purification was still exposed to the risk of Rampage—then Ressas’ Purification might be meaningless.
“Helping a Tither is the guide’s natural duty. I have no intention of neglecting that. But I’ve made it clear—I want you before me. You must become my Tither.”
Ressas held firm in his strange insistence. Despite Seiyad’s objections, those piercing violet eyes remained locked on him without wavering.
“Then, Your Highness, when all territories are struck by a simultaneous deep freeze, can you say with certainty that you’ll be by my side? Even if others are injured, will you still seek me first?”
That was the one question Ressas could never answer. Faced with Seiyad’s firm challenge, Ressas faltered for the first time. One eyebrow twisted slightly as he studied Seiyad. But the hesitation didn’t last long.
“I will.”
This time, it was Seiyad who was caught off guard. Given Ressas’ nature, he should’ve prioritized those in immediate danger and made the rational choice. Taking advantage of Seiyad’s moment of surprise, Ressas struck at his most sensitive nerve.
“You made me a promise. That in exchange for borrowing my power, you’d become my Tither. So why are you pushing me away now to back out?”
Ressas’ voice suddenly took on a tone of anguish.
“This time, I want a reason. I won’t let you cut me off without a word again. You will answer me.”
Seiyad unconsciously took a step back. As he remained silent, Ressas stepped closer.
“If you were going to cast me aside so cruelly, then you should never have acknowledged me in the first place. Like everyone else, you should’ve just ignored the pebble on the roadside and moved on. You shouldn’t have given a worthless thing like me a name.”
He claimed to question the present, but he was really questioning the past. That time when he’d been pushed aside by Seiyad without even a chance to speak.
“If I was so detestable that you wanted to throw me away, then you shouldn’t have let me be near you to begin with. You told me that even someone like me deserved to live… you whispered such beautiful words to me…”
As Seiyad tried to retreat again, Ressas seized his hand. His grip was so strong, it felt like he might melt Seiyad with heat alone. It was an intensity that didn’t match his gentle, refined appearance—and that was what startled Seiyad.
He had thought that after all the contempt and rejection, Ressas wouldn’t hold on to any lingering feelings from the past. Surely they had all vanished, transformed into hatred. That’s what he had believed, with absolute certainty.
“It’s all in the past. Why can’t you let go of something so useless? Your Highness, the game of make-believe is over. There’s nothing good that can come from a relationship between us anymore.”
But really, what was the point of all this? A shattered glass would forever bear its cracks. So much had changed. Even if Seiyad no longer lived as he once had, that didn’t mean he could undo everything that surrounded Ressas.
He had no right to peace, no right to have someone good by his side. He had to focus solely on atonement—on suppressing the Rampage and saving more lives than the ones he had taken.
“No.”
But Ressas refused to let go.
“Like the scar on your hand, this is something that clearly remains between us. It’s still there, and you’re just trying to turn away from it. But even that—you haven’t been able to do properly, have you? If you really meant to turn away, you should’ve never spoken to me again. You should never have asked for my help.”
With a strength that seemed to come from nowhere, Ressas held onto him like he’d never let go again.
“You chose to be entangled with me again. And I’m not going to let you run away this time. I won’t let that happen anymore. I’m not something to be picked up and thrown away whenever you feel like it.”
Their bodies were close. Right in front of him, Ressas leaned in and whispered. Despite the intensity in his voice, his face looked desolate and sorrowful, like moonlight breaking on water.
“Why did you leave me? After you were the one who taught me that love actually exists in this world?”
The storm that had raged between them quieted, and in its place, the sea rose in silence. Ressas’ tender, aching question washed over Seiyad like a wave, swallowing him whole. And as those turbulent words echoed in his ears, Seiyad felt himself drifting, lost in their pull.
The boy in front of him—no, the young man—suddenly looked like an adult.
Even in the moment when their lips met and the Purification was being passed between them, he hadn’t quite felt it. But that word—love—that strange and unfamiliar word coming from Ressas’ mouth, overlapped with the image of him at twenty-five.
A shiver ran down his spine. It felt as though his ribs were caving in. The six years he had spent in that small southern palace surged back into Seiyad’s mind. That beautiful boy always visible by the window whenever he stepped in with joy—he, too, had longed for him deeply.
He had cherished him like family. Blood didn’t matter—just as he loved Cecilia, he had loved Ressas. That sweet, blindly devoted boy with the sparkling eyes—Seiyad had wanted to protect him, so very much.
And now, realizing that some remnant of those radiant feelings might still linger stirred something strange in him. A wild, unfamiliar impulse shook him.
Could a broken relationship be mended?
Seiyad believed that even if his own heart had changed, the twisted bonds between them could not be restored. Especially not when he had been the one to shatter them.
Then suddenly, he remembered the root of it all. It was only natural, as natural as the sun rising and setting, that he and Ressas were incompatible. Seiyad could only treasure Ressas before he knew whose son he truly was.
Pain from the past never disappeared naturally—it scarred over and remained in place. Seiyad would forever remember his mother crawling across that filthy floor to reach him, and he would never forget his father’s corpse after he leapt from the top of the castle the day his mother was executed.
Seiyad’s nightmares had always been born from the people Ressas held dear.
“Your Highness is asking something even a child could answer.”
Seiyad was no saint like Ressas, nor was he some generous, magnanimous man. Whenever he saw the presence of House Shildras around Ressas, he would inevitably recall the hell he endured at twenty.
“Every person Your Highness holds dear—aren’t they all the same ones who despised the former Duke Axid? Isn’t it a little naive, maybe even foolish, to think that a traitor’s blood like mine would still be allowed to stand by your side after all that?”
It was a blunt, dangerous remark, but he said it without hesitation. It wasn’t the first time he had spoken this way to Ressas over the years.
“As long as those people remain by Your Highness’ side, I will never be your Tither.”
To be frank, Seiyad had assumed Ressas had long since figured out the reason. It had always been obvious. Though he might’ve hurt him with that cold dismissal, Ressas had always been sharp and quick-witted. He thought for sure Ressas understood that, politically and morally, there was no way they could remain in each other’s lives.
“So then, it seems only right that the honor of being Your Highness’ Tither goes to Zion Shildras. That would be the proper path.”
It was such a plain truth, he hadn’t even wanted to say it aloud. But once he did, his head felt clearer. That was all there was to it. The reason they couldn’t coexist had never really been Ressas’ fault. Even those around him weren’t to blame—they were merely fragments of Seiyad’s own personal hell. Rather than confronting them and burning away his soul like before, Seiyad simply wanted to focus on what he had to do now. That was the only way to pay for his sins.
“That should be enough—”
“Tell me, who exactly are these people I supposedly hold dear?”
Just as Seiyad turned to leave, ready to end this unintended reunion, Ressas interrupted him out of nowhere.
