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Something like a string perfectly encircling his neck, and an ornament felt at its center. Lowering his head to check it, Arpel could see a silver diamond-shaped ornament emitting a strange light.
The sensation at his fingertips felt somehow awkward. Rather than the soft fabric used for making clothes, it was closer to the texture of leather…
His gaze, full of curiosity, belatedly turned to Rohan.
“What… is this?”
“Oh, that.”
His face, which had been completely relaxed after hearing it was okay, drew a gentle smile. The voice that followed, whispering softly, was exceedingly affectionate.
“It’s a scabbard. That’s how it looks when Arpel is human. Isn’t it pretty?”
Only then did Arpel recall the subtle discomfort he had felt when he was a sword. Was it because of the scabbard? However, even though he understood, he simply couldn’t nod to the brief question added at the end.
“I received it from the Demon God. As long as you keep wearing it, you shouldn’t be in any danger.”
A sacred artifact that stabilizes the soul and increases resistance to holy power. While listening to the voice that didn’t just stop at a brief explanation but meticulously described the role of ‘this’, Arpel couldn’t help but feel an indescribable sensation.
It wasn’t particularly strange talk. After all, he had lost consciousness this time due to being swept up in holy power, so it was clear that this would be of great help in the future.
Nevertheless, the reason it kept bothering him was simpler than expected.
“But… Rohan, this is.”
Because the appearance of this thing was strange.
The tough black fabric like leather tightly constricting his neck, the small silver ring attached in the center, and the diamond-shaped ornament hanging from it.
No matter how he looked at it, it was a collar. He seemed to remember seeing a dog wearing something similar to this at least once while passing through various villages with Rohan. He could even vaguely picture an old man next to it, laughing and saying something like, “That one’s got quite the spirit.”
“Do you… not like it?”
“Huh? No. It’s fine. It’s… pretty.”
His expression became subtle as he recalled old memories, but this too was only for a very brief moment. As Rohan’s face gradually began to show signs of gloom, the uneasiness that had been building up crumbled all at once.
It would be more accurate to say that the desire not to upset him, given the smile he had struggled to regain, drove away the suspicion.
In the end, Arpel said nothing and simply tolerated the collar around his neck. Only after he finally gave an answer that he liked it did Rohan’s face brighten again.
As he quietly allowed Rohan’s slowly extended hand to fiddle with the area around his neck, Arpel couldn’t help but think.
That perhaps the child-rearing… had gone quite wrong.
Memories of being together since childhood flashed by, eliciting peculiar emotions. It felt somewhat deflating, yet also somewhat enjoyable.
“I’m glad you like it.”
Arpel’s face, which had shown an indescribable expression that couldn’t be easily dismissed, now wore a faint smile. Looking at him as if entranced, Rohan expressed his joy while carefully kissing the back of Arpel’s hand that he was holding.
For a moment, the voice of the Demon God speaking with a mischievous expression flashed through Rohan’s mind.
‘When Arpel returns to human form, his appearance will change quite a bit. It will respond to your wish, so don’t worry too much.’
‘Wish’. That short resonance, which he had been hearing quite often recently, still lingered in his ears. Was it because he had repeated some image along with that word several times? The moment Arpel transformed into a human, Rohan couldn’t hide his bewilderment upon seeing him.
He too realized that what was around Arpel’s neck was close to a collar. Because of this, he was able to confront his own ‘wish’ more clearly than anyone else.
No matter what happened, no matter what difficulties lay ahead… he wished for Arpel to never leave his side. He wanted to keep him by his side. The sacred artifact that responded to the ‘wish’ had diligently granted this.
“Arpel, shall we make another promise?”
But Rohan didn’t voice this explicitly. Although it was unlikely, if by any chance Arpel found out that ‘wanting to keep him by his side’ was his wish… he might feel burdened.
Therefore, Rohan blatantly changed the subject. As his lips, still touching the back of Arpel’s hand, moved while exhaling a faint breath, a brief tremor ran through their clasped hands. A small laugh escaped at the gesture that seemed ticklish.
“What kind of promise?”
“Never to touch the power of specters again from now on.”
Arpel’s eyes blinked blankly several times at the affectionate words that sounded like coaxing a child. The question ‘Isn’t that a promise we’ve already made?’ could be clearly seen forming in his purple eyes.
However, even though he felt something was odd, he ended up nodding, so Rohan couldn’t help but smile brightly at him. Undisguised happiness kept falling from the ends of his softly curved lips.
The same was true for the black fabric laid over his neck. Despite clearly seeing his suspicion, hadn’t he still answered that it was pretty in the end? He knew that those words were spoken out of consideration for him.
The consideration Arpel showed him, that unwavering heart that always put him first, resonated deeply within him.
He thought that perhaps he could feel this radiant happiness because Arpel had always cherished him. Such thoughts would suddenly occur to him when he looked back.
“Okay. I promise.”
Rohan burst into a small smile as he saw Arpel’s pinky finger extending towards him. A fresh laugh settled in the prayer room. It felt like he couldn’t bear not speaking the words from his overflowing heart.
“Arpel, I really, really…”
Like you. I like you so much. The tiny whisper seeped between their tightly intertwined pinky fingers.
That he was truly an existence he couldn’t help but love. Looking at Arpel’s face showing a rare bright smile, Rohan thought this way.
***
“Ah.”
Owen, who had been guarding the front of the prayer room ever since Rohan had shut himself in, swallowed dryly as he watched the large door finally showing signs of opening.
The anxiety that had settled here and there didn’t completely dissipate until he saw Arpel standing upright next to Rohan as they came out.
“Have you been here the whole time?”
There was a hint of surprise in Rohan’s voice that was finally heard. The sharp aura that had emanated from him before entering the prayer room had long since evaporated without a trace.
Nevertheless, Owen couldn’t say anything.
He couldn’t even express his bewilderment at Rohan’s completely changed attitude, let alone utter congratulations that it was fortunate Arpel was safe. Instead, his dazed gaze kept drifting somewhere.
“…Ah, yes. I’ve been standing here the whole time.”
His answer came out a beat late, and even that was awkward. Perhaps because all his attention was focused on the scene before him, his voice, slow and stumbling, almost felt like reading a book.
“But. That, on his neck…”
His wavering gaze that couldn’t find its bearings was directed at Arpel’s neck. More precisely, towards something black tied around his neck.
“It’s a sacred artifact.”
“A sacred artifact…?”
Owen’s eyes became strange. They were eyes that seemed to scream, ‘Where in the world is there such a sacred artifact?’ After trying to understand Arpel’s words for a moment, he finally narrowed his brows and opened his mouth.
“It looks like a collar no matter how… No. I misspoke. My apologies.”
After briefly continuing to speak as thoughts popped into his head, Owen awkwardly changed his words. It was an action that even had a strange urgency to it.
It must have been because he belatedly recalled his own belief to interfere as little as possible in whatever was going on between the two. Shaking his head vigorously to forcefully clear away his confusion, he turned to look at Arpel.
“I’m glad you’re safe.”
It was a considerably belated greeting, but no one minded. Arpel too nodded towards Owen, whom he seemed to be seeing after quite a long time.
The faint worry melted into his voice only for a very brief moment. Tearing his gaze away from the ‘accessory’ that kept bothering him, he continued speaking in a businesslike tone. It was almost like a kind of report.
“…As things have turned out, I’m currently managing this temple.”
The explanation wasn’t very long. Although he glossed over the intermediate process entirely, there couldn’t be a cleaner summary than this. Simply put, it was a story of punishing the priests on charges of corruption in the temple and condoning heresy.
“Then, that priest…”
A small murmur escaped from Rohan’s lips as he quietly listened to the story. Arpel too could easily infer exactly what he was referring to.
The traces of the dead priest found in the deep forest behind Bemos Village. Since one of the charges Owen mentioned was “covering up the disappearance of an affiliated priest,” it was certain that the sacrificed priest belonged to this place.
Owen’s expression also darkened at this mention. Deep bitterness was evident in the soft sigh that escaped.
Although the conversation ended after entrusting the investigation, Rohan and Arpel didn’t immediately leave the temple. They had accepted Owen’s suggestion that they should stay here for the night since they must be tired.
After briefly showing them to a room, the two turned their backs on Owen. Suddenly, Arpel’s gaze turned to Owen.
“Has anything happened to the Marquis family?”
“Pardon?”
Owen’s eyes became subtle at the quite unexpected question. This subtlety deepened further due to the purple eyes that still showed a serious light despite the brief questioning.
That mysterious gaze, which seemed capable of seeing through anything, urged an answer several times.
“…As far as I know, nothing unusual has happened.”
“I see.”
Although he suppressed his perplexity and gave an answer, the conversation ended there. Arpel’s action of turning his back without any lingering attachment was not only bewildering but also exasperating, yet at the same time, it was all too familiar.
In the end, a wry smile filled Owen’s lips.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
