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Written by. Hae-wi
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It was a quiet night. Beyond the window, not a single star was visible in the sky hidden behind a black curtain, and only the trees swaying in the wind showed any movement. Spring had come some time ago, yet an eerie wind rattled the windows. The Duke closed his book, finding it impossible to concentrate. On the thick cover of the book, elegant script resembling artwork was written.
The family lineage, or the lineage of magicians.
Born into the family, one is bound by oath from the moment of their first cry, unable to do anything freely. Since realizing this with his entire being, he had clung to the book, reciting each character like a daily ritual. Where had things gone wrong? Where had the twist occurred? At what point did something particular happen? Perhaps if he found that, he might reach an answer.
But the answer had always been predetermined. Everything had been broken from the beginning. All of it.
His chest churned and his head throbbed. The Duke massaged his neck as a dull pain rose up. Even after closing the book and rising from his seat, he couldn’t bring himself to leave, pacing instead. Perhaps a single unseen character held the answer. But even after hundreds, thousands of readings, the book never yielded an answer. Just as it hadn’t until now.
The Duke slowly walked out of the room. He entered with hope but left only with renewed awareness of reality. Hope felt like the most distant word to him; neither rest nor peace visited this wasteland. Entering the corridor, he glanced around briefly before turning right. Downstairs, his son would be sleeping.
He knew the reason for his sleeplessness. Anxiety. The anxiety that had followed him since birth until now, and would continue to follow him in the future. That fear, which wasn’t his alone but belonged to all members of the family, would be passed down to his children. Though adults might warn of the danger, children wouldn’t understand, and when they finally did, they would become adults already scarred. This cycle repeated through generations. Though everyone experienced it like a rite of passage, he wished his children could be spared the pain.
“Riz.”
Opening the door, he softly called his child’s name. At his father’s voice, the child stirred under the blanket. The lovable child couldn’t quite open his eyes. The Duke sat briefly at the bedside, arranging the disheveled hair on the sleeping child’s forehead. Though the long hair was tangled and messy, it would serve as a charm protecting the child. He kissed the sleeping child’s forehead and rose from his seat.
The children. His two children were his only future. Riz was strong. Born of pure blood, the child had skillfully handled magical power from an early age and had proven the magnitude of his strength.
Yet he was not the family’s strongest magician. That was a good sign. Moderate power was less likely to attract attention. If he could endure until adulthood, perhaps this child might slightly evade fate. Just as some fortunate ones in the family had done before.
Leaving the sleeping child, the Duke walked the corridor again. On a starless night, the moon was the only light. The nameless moon. A moon neither full nor empty illuminated beneath his feet. As he walked the corridor, concern shadowed the Duke’s face. This was the child he worried about most.
“Del.”
Opening the door, he softly called the child’s name. Whether deeply asleep or not, there was no movement on the bed.
Derev. Poor child. Born as the legitimate heir to the ducal family, yet possessing little magical power, the child would be underestimated even before his intelligence could be recognized. It wasn’t the lack of ability that was regrettable. Protecting those with insufficient qualities as magicians was even more difficult in the family, and with bad luck, they became prey for beasts. Watching the process was miserable and sorrowful, but inevitable. He couldn’t even protect them. Since everyone was in danger, not everyone could be saved.
“Del?”
Strange. There was no movement in the prominently bulging blanket. Upon closer inspection, only traces of the child’s presence remained on the bed, with no warmth left at all. Alarmed, the Duke rose. The child had disappeared.
The Duke left the room and went to the head butler’s chamber. Children of the ducal family occasionally disappeared, and usually something terrible happened. But why? That child was still in a dress!
“Eric. Wake up, Eric!”
“…My lord?”
“Del has disappeared!”
“The young master?”
“Has anyone visited?”
“No, sir. His Majesty’s visit is a week away… surely not…?”
“That is exactly what I fear. Wake trustworthy people to find Del!”
“Yes, sir.”
The Duke and the head butler hurriedly left the room. The Duke went upstairs to open the door to the stairs leading to the basement. The servants would search other places. There was a possibility Del might be in places they couldn’t enter. Accidents could happen anywhere, anytime. He recalled the painful experiences many had endured. Hoping this wasn’t such an incident, the Duke stepped onto the stairs.
Cursed oath.
The Duke gritted his teeth. The family was cursed by a single oath made by a magician mad with love. Magic that could only be called a curse, passing through bloodlines. That was what endangered the child. It strangled the throat of a child as precious as life itself.
“Del.”
He called the child’s name as he descended the stairs. There was no sign anyone had come down, but if there was a possibility the child might be trembling in this space, he had to search.
“Are you here?”
He opened the basement door after descending the stairs. The library storing the family’s most precious books, the vault, magic books. He looked through each room where the most important things were gathered, but what was most precious to him was nowhere to be seen. He felt he might go mad with anxiety. Because he had been fortunate enough to avoid it, he thought his children could avoid it too. But that was a thought he could have only because he had received good fortune. His children could become sacrifices to the insane oath at any time.
“Del.”
The Duke called the child’s name, waiting for an answer that didn’t come. And suddenly, truly suddenly. Though it probably held no possibility, something nonetheless came to mind.
A certain place in the deepest part of the basement. The story he had heard about that place. Maybe. Just maybe. Really.
Though thinking it wouldn’t be the case, the Duke moved forward. But it might be possible. Though the magical power was below average, no one disputed the child’s intelligence. If it were him, perhaps it might be possible. Rather, it might be possible.
There was a door that hadn’t been opened for a very long time. The Duke placed his hand on the door and recited the activation word. A place only family members could enter. Yet no one thought anyone would come here.
Inside was dark. A faint smoke-like substance was seeping out from inside the door that hadn’t been opened for a very long time. Could it be, goodness. Really? The door on the opposite side was open. The door that was always closed wasn’t a place that would open at someone’s touch. The Duke carefully called the child’s name.
“Del?”
“Yes, father.”
Ah. The child was there. With his back to the door, his long hair hanging down, wearing nothing, the child silently looked at the Duke.
The Duke slowly approached and knelt before the child. He took off his outer garment and draped it over the child’s shoulders. When their eyes were at the same level, he could finally see the child’s eyes. What lay behind those green pupils? Ah… The Duke sighed. The child had truly opened it.
“Did you open the door?”
“Yes.”
The child answered without hesitation. It was a strangely calm tone. Not the usual neurotic and sensitive voice of the child. As if suddenly grown up, as if having realized something.
Though it was what he had long awaited, now that his child had become this way, he felt like crying. The child caressed the Duke’s cheek. The Duke spoke in a trembling voice.
“…Did you see?”
“Yes. Everything.”
“What was it like in there?”
“Hell.”
“To what extent?”
“As much as father imagined.”
At the response, the Duke closed his eyes. Yes. Nothing had changed. Everything. That’s why the child had opened the door.
He looked at the child’s chest. It was like a pattern of thorny vines. Thin stems with small leaves densely attached extended from the heart, tightly wrapping around the left chest. The budded petals, probably wild roses, were gradually fading, leaving only a faint trace as if curling inward near the heart.
Hoo. The Duke took a deep breath and asked again. If it had already come to this, the child would know. There would be a reason he was chosen. And that was the aspiration held by all members of the family. Freedom.
“Can you, can we solve it?”
“Perhaps. But not now.”
The child shook his head. However, the surging magical power indicated he had become an extremely powerful magician. If that was the case,
“I need to find my crow,” Del said. A magician needs a crow.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
