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Side story 2 – Edgar’s Chapter 1: The Forest

Edgar cried and shouted incomprehensible words.

‘How did it end up like this? What did I believe and why did I think I could take her to the Empire without any problems? …The destruction of her village didn’t mean she couldn’t stay in her jungle. There was no connection between her tribe’s collapse and having to go to the Empire…’

In fact, his sadness was an unscrupulous emotion. It was Edgar himself who had strangled her, he gave her just enough air to keep her from dying by providing her with good food and a safe place to sleep every day. He murmured incessantly.

“…I wanted to save you…”

 – Tadak Tadak – 

The crackling of firewood and the sound of fire stirring the air sounded like a melody. It seemed like she was playing happily, because she was finally able to leave. 

‘She had to endure so much in the end that it was better for her to die, she probably stayed alive in anticipation of this moment…’

At least, that was how Edgar saw it from his perspective.

The temple was visible in the backdrop of the sadly fading tune. Half of the temple had collapsed and its distorted form looked like a face that was mocking him. It laughed at him along with the vision of the dying priest in front of it. Edgar, who was lying on the ground, recalled the priest’s last moments in his tilted view.

{ “…Everyone will die!…” }

‘Wasn’t that a curse meant for the invaders?’

{ “…Everyone will die!…” }

Edgar slowly got up. 

‘A curse that he cried out in fear… No, it wasn’t a curse. That was a prophecy. The priest foresaw the destruction of the tribe. The old man knew… And all this time I thought that he was going to say I should to take Murasha out of there…’

“…So what the hell was he talking about…”

Stuttering, he started running toward the temple.

“…How? …How did you know?”

His shoeless feet dashed up the stairs where only the shape remained. The majority of the colonnades and walls had collapsed, leaving only the altar floor and the wall behind it. As expected, the burned-out wall had turned black.

“How did you know?!”

Edgar scratched the soot away. It wasn’t until his fingernails were torn that the densely engraved characters were revealed. Murasha regarded this banquet of ‘letters’ as the image of a god, but Edgar knew what kind of letters they were. 

‘Vanished and forgotten text.’

Edgar gathered the stone rubble that had slid beneath his feet. It was a piece of a mural. 

‘A form known as God.’

Bewitched, he murmured toward the mural.

“…Did you know?..”

‘Murasha said that God had saved them, so in many ways they thank God. They even went as far as to hold their own ceremonies, on behalf of the priest…’

However, he couldn’t understand it at all. 

‘God, that kind of thing is unspeakably vague and unreliable…’

Edgar looked up. The wall that towered above him looked down at him and laughed…

***

Two years later.

Rain poured down. It was the monsoon season in the jungle. Edgar raised his head toward the sky. He slowly closed his eyes as he watched the falling rain, countless raindrops slid down the curves of his face. Kneeling outside the plaza, he faced the debris of the building and the murals he had restored. These were the vestiges he’d gathered in the past two years.

Suddenly the rain stopped, leading Edgar to open his eyes. Instead of a gloomy sky, he was met with a black curtain. Adjusting his gaze, a pale-faced man with long black hair stood in his field of vision. His long, monolid eyes looked cold. Edgar called out to the unexpected visitor.

“Linhardt.”

The man holding the umbrella stared down at him.

“Have you been out of your mind for the past two years, Edgar?”

“…”

“Grandpa is looking for you. Why don’t you stop chasing the dead and start taking care of the living?”

Edgar lowered his head again. Water droplets, formed on the tip of his nose and chin, fell onto his knees…

***

“…Knox.”

“…”

The Marquess was lying on the sofa, smoking a cigarette. Edgar knelt down beside him and kissed the back of his hand, which had grown older over the years. As the Marquess let out a sigh along with the smoke, a dry voice flowed from the old man’s throat after he coughed.

“Oh, no. I should go back to Weissland before I get any older.”

“…”

Edgar raised his gloomy eyes. Seeing his grandson’s rare expression, the marquess smiled as if he thought it was cute. As always, his thick beard formed a curve.

“I have a favour to ask of you.”

“Yes.”

“Continue the title.”

“Yes.”

The Marquess frowned at Edgar’s immediate answer.

“What are you up to?”

“Nothing.”

Although the old man was suspicious of his grandson’s obedience, he could no longer pry like he used to. He hadn’t seen Edgar much since the young heir started digging for archaeology in the Western Continent. The Marquess felt now as awkward meeting Edgar, who had recently turned 20, as he had upon meeting Edgar when he was younger. Furthermore, Edgar had transformed into an entirely different person over the past two years. Not only in his speech but also in his demeanour and conduct. The bright child had lost his vigour. The one thing that didn’t change was his tendency to immerse himself in what piqued his interest. The Marquess furrowed his brow in resentment.

“You must graduate from Lebrun. I didn’t think I would ever see you get commissioned after you turned 15 years old. Has it been… 5 years? 6 years? Your peers have been commissioned 3 years ago… oh… You shouldn’t have skipped it… cough cough…”

“Yes.”

“Yeah. I guess I’ll be at ease when I see you finish something.”

The Marquess closed his eyes and smiled. He seemed to have fallen into a daze, perhaps due to the medicine. Levi, who was helping the Marquess, motioned Edgar to step out.

Edgar quietly left the study and shut the door. The Marquess might have thought that Edgar’s demeanour was unusual, but the young man truly had no ulterior motives. In fact, he was already considering becoming a navy officer, and he needed the authority that came with the title.

‘Ancient traces aren’t only found in the jungles of the Western Continent. In fact, they are scattered over the Southern and Northern Islands.’

The Southern Island was recently discovered, and although the ruins on the Northern Island were more well known, they had been extensively damaged by pirates. 

‘The ones the Ruwans possessed only revealed a portion of God’s existence. It’s not enough, I’m missing so many pieces.’

Edgar needed to recover the stolen ruins, but there were way too many for him to collect on his own.

‘It so happens that the Emperor has issued an edict to wipe out the western pirates, and officers often receive part of the spoils as a bonus.’

Knowing this, Edgar considered commissioning for the upcoming Battle of Nazaro, which was scheduled for next year.

While walking through the corridor, his moving feet came to a halt in front of a certain room. As he opened the door without hesitation, he immediately spotted the cembalo in the centre. It was an antique musical instrument, gilded ornate and brightened by the sunny window. When the lid was opened, light dust rose in abundance. Edgar pressed a black key, producing a beautiful sound that echoed through the lonely room.

He understood that God was close to nature. In the case of the Ruwans, God was the forest itself. It gave the forest a will and character while accepting nature’s providence as its meaning. 

‘The difference in the amount or concentration of oxygen wasn’t the answer.

No human can live under water, but no one needs to explain why because there is no air in the water. Because it’s self-evident, without the need for a reason or proof. Likewise, it was self-evident that the Ruwans couldn’t live outside the forest. I only looked at them from my own point of view, while trying to constantly attach a reason to the phenomenon. I kept her submerged in water every day, while wondering why she couldn’t breathe. The priest’s prophecy was nothing but natural words. In fact, it was comparable to saying, ‘everyone will die if they fall into the water’.’

Edgar didn’t realise that there were ‘humans’ who, in one way or another, differed from himself. Although the imperial residents didn’t see the Ruwans as human beings on par with themselves, Ed did and reasoned that because he could breathe here, it was unimaginable for him that there were humans who actually couldn’t. As there were various races in the world, there must be various characteristics and constitutions. But to him, whose perspective was based on himself, thought their constitution was the problem that needed to be developed. It wasn’t until he deciphered the walls of the temple that he realised that there was such a thing as an irresistible will. Providence wasn’t a quality that could be judged by mere human beings. 

‘However, I realised it too late, far too late…’

There was a person who talked about it so openly. So naturally. That person spoke about it as if it was an old truth. Edgar, on the other hand, only realised this through years of research, after losing Murasha and turning his back on a lot of things…

Edgar chased her with his eyes.

A cadet who was only fifteen years old. And a woman at that. Her cheeks, which had not yet lost their baby fat, emanated dazzling vibrancy. When she mounted her horse, the wind blew constantly across her fiery cheeks. Her eyes, which shone blue in the sunlight, were filled with confidence and conviction. Edgar heard her name from the people around him.

‘Aspirant Liloa.’