Cecilia saw Seiyad standing in the midst of a mountain of corpses. Blood—more than enough to dye the white snow a deep crimson—flowed like rivers in every direction, soaking the earth. Neither of them understood it was a rampage, but as Cecilia described the scene, she trembled in terror.
“I have a bad feeling about this. Just leave with me, Oppa. I don’t care about the family. What matters to me is you.”
She brought it up around the time Seiyad had firmly decided to remain by Aster’s side. Rumors were already spreading throughout the palace that Seiyad had changed.
Around this period, he began to leave the estate for months at a time. To Seiyad, the Axid domain was a place that had rejected his mother. Though she had once been a remarkable lord, all memory of her accomplishments had been eclipsed by her final actions. The vassals, too, shrank back, treating themselves as if they were complicit.
Merely witnessing such a sight drove Seiyad to the brink of madness. He sought to occupy his mind with something—anything—that would keep him from hating both his family and his own domain. Staying at the capital with Aster was the one thing that brought him peace.
When Seiyad returned for the winter, Cecilia clung to him and pleaded with all her heart. But Seiyad didn’t believe her. Even if the future she saw was truly that horrific, he doubted anything would change all that much. Cecilia, who had spent the entire winter trying to persuade him, left the castle after a particular incident.
One of the maids Cecilia cherished made an ill-timed slip of the tongue. A rumor that the former Duchess had shown signs of madness from the beginning made its way to his ears. Despite Cecilia begging him to give her just one more chance, Seiyad ignored her and threw the maid out into the freezing night with nothing but the clothes on her back.
“You’ve changed, Oppa.”
That was the only thing Cecilia said. She left behind a small note and departed from his castle. Just as she wrote in her letter, she went to live at her uncle’s estate, which lay at the border between the north and west. The last thing Seiyad ever heard was that a maid bearing a striking resemblance to the one he’d cast out now remained by Cecilia’s side. He never sought her out again.
Not even until the year he died.
…Then had Cecilia seen another future? Did she know that he had come back to life?
The sudden question made Seiyad rub at the space between his brows. He had never sought her out, knowing that being entangled with him would bring her harm as well—but now, he thought, perhaps it was time he paid her a visit.
But first, he had to persuade Ressas.
Seiyad coolly observed Ressas’ expression. The man was stiff, as if struggling to believe what he had heard.
“They say it’s a power stronger than anything ever passed down in a dream of Cecilia’s. As you said, Your Highness, I have the Crown Prince by my side… but even with him there, if I were to lose control…”
Though he framed it as a hypothetical, it had already happened. Only after that moment had passed did Seiyad truly understand Cecilia’s words.
“Wouldn’t it be more efficient to try a different method?”
Telling Ressas—a child of Queen Leana and someone tied to House Shildras—about a future where Seiyad rampaged was also a way of revealing his own vulnerability. It was a gamble. There was a high chance Ressas would disregard everything he said.
But what Ressas asked in return wasn’t what he expected.
“So long as it helps you, you don’t care who your guide is?”
Seiyad couldn’t read the intent behind that question. He considered what sort of answer Ressas might be hoping for. The reply, however, came from Ressas himself.
“You’re saying you could so easily replace the guide who’s looked after you all this time?”
Seiyad thought of Aster. The nearly ten years they had spent together. The time he spent by Aster’s side, carrying out his wishes.
Aster had been undeniably kind and captivating. As his guide, he had healed Seiyad countless times, purified him, and shared many emotions. He had done so much for Seiyad.
But he had done nothing to stop Seiyad’s rampage. If it had been Aster who had brought about his end, Seiyad would have believed that Aster had fulfilled his duty as his Guide to the very last.
“No one is coming to save you. His Highness the Crown Prince has left your fate in my hands.”
That line, spoken by Ressas just before Seiyad’s execution, was the last trace of Aster that remained. That truth had wiped away any lingering attachment Seiyad felt. Aster had abandoned him so easily; it was clear Seiyad’s worth had meant little to him.
“A Tither slays monsters with their power, and a guide is the one who sends them back to the battlefield. I don’t know what other meaning there’s supposed to be in that. Changing guides is simply a matter of efficiency.”
Seiyad responded with biting cynicism. It was a coldly logical statement, yet Ressas visibly recoiled.
“People are not tools.”
A rigid declaration—one only Ressas could make.
“At the very least, that’s not how the relationship between a Tither and a guide should be.”
“I understand the importance of compatibility. But unless they trust and care for each other, that compatibility is meaningless. A guide doesn’t just exist to purify. They’re a companion who gives the Tither strength to move forward.”
“Your Highness.”
Seiyad disliked this kind of conversation. His words could be countered, easily even, yet they held a strange power that unsettled the heart. A younger Seiyad might have welcomed this side of Ressas, but the man he was now wanted none of it.
“I know I’m a terrible sinner in your eyes, Your Highness. I understand that my presence alone must be repulsive to you. But all I want is to stop the catastrophe that lies ahead.”
As Ressas had said, the bond with a guide could not be forced. Without voluntary will, purification was impossible—he had to be willing.
“You know better than anyone, Your Highness. During the last Duchess’ rampage, even the finest knights lost their lives. And aren’t you the one who cherishes people more than anyone?”
Speaking of his mother’s actions as though they belonged to someone else, Seiyad tried to persuade him. After all, it wasn’t as though Seiyad intended to remain by Ressas’ side.
“What I want is not to become Your Highness’s Tither. That would be like trying to mix oil and water—impossible. I’m content with just a little help.”
Though he had laid a trap to corner Ressas into action, Seiyad figured this much should still be within what the man could endure.
“…You, of all people, caring about someone’s death—that’s almost laughable. I… I don’t know. I can’t believe a person can change overnight.”
He wasn’t wrong. People only change when they’re forced to—when they face something inevitable. For Seiyad, that turning point had been death. But since no one else in the world would believe that, he added a line that felt more in character for himself, something more persuasive.
“You misunderstand. The only death I care about is my own.”
Seiyad’s lips twisted into a bitter smirk. He knew this would sound more believable to Ressas.
“No one wants to die.”
Just as Ressas had seen over the past few years, acting cold and selfish was easier even for Seiyad himself.
“…As expected.”
Ressas, who had looked confused and conflicted all this time, finally regained his composure. He even murmured the words with a sense of relief. Then, after a long stretch of contemplation, he fell silent again. Seiyad, like a predator waiting out its prey, endured the moment with patience. It wasn’t until the food had long gone cold that Ressas made up his mind. His newly resolved gaze met Seiyad’s.
“If what you say is true, and I become a rightful presence in Solias again… then it is my duty to help you. However.”
Was this a negotiation? Seiyad looked at Ressas with surprise. As he suspected, Ressas laid out a condition.
“Since our relationship doesn’t rest on mutual goodwill or peace, I’ll impose a restriction.”
Seiyad gave him a look, telling him to speak. Ressas deliberated for quite some time, then finally spoke with quiet resolve.
“Your guide must be me—and only me.”
…What?
It was the last thing Seiyad ever expected to hear from him. His composure cracked for the first time, and a question formed in his cold, gray eyes.
“If I truly matter to you that much, then you won’t need another guide. So become my Tither.”
“That’s…”
When a guide and Tither are compatible, there’s no need for anyone else. But Ressas was someone with natural compatibility across the board. Even if he hadn’t realized that himself yet, he already had Zion Shildras—and besides, it didn’t make any sense that he’d want to keep someone like Seiyad, someone who repelled him, by his side.
“I don’t think that would be in Your Highness’s best interest.”
“Did the Grand Duke ever care about my best interest?”
There was no retort. Caught off guard, Seiyad furrowed his brows. Ressas, now firm and unwavering, made it clear there would be no further discussion.
“That is my only condition.”
With that, Ressas closed his mouth. There was a subtle stubbornness in his demeanor that only added to Seiyad’s confusion. He couldn’t begin to guess what the man was thinking, so he decided he’d need more time to figure it out.
“…I’ll consider it.”
The fact that he now had to seriously consider the offer amused him. The headache, briefly forgotten in the confusion of conversation, surged back with full force. Seiyad pressed hard at his brow. Seeing him fall silent, Ressas too lapsed back into silence. The two of them remained in that silence through the evening, each lost in their own thoughts.
