Chapter 240

Chapter 240: For You

Calix ‍​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‍left the Elvra Holy Empire.

Winter ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍showed no sign of ending. The walls and the tolling of bells faded away, replaced only by scenery. He pressed his footsteps into the snow as he walked forward, yet even those were swallowed up and erased by drifting snowflakes.

He ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍walked ahead.

The ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍hem of his robe brushed against the wind, and the snow beneath his feet let out a crunch with each step. Volga followed behind him. Calix had tried to slip away unnoticed, but he had already been at his side. No words passed between them. They maintained their distance, each walking at their own pace.

The ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍surrounding landscape hardly changed. Trees, snow-covered mountains, a clear sky. No matter how far they walked, the same scene repeated itself. That very monotony was what made it feel peaceful. There was no one to ask where they were headed, and no reason to answer.

As ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍the sun began to tilt, a lone dwelling came into view before fading away again. The further north they went, the fewer lights there were. No smoke rose. They passed the empty houses in silence.

Calix did not stop walking.

He was moving further away. From the war, from the name Mountain Rabbits, and from the place he had been called to stand as a hero—

He was becoming free.

***

The northernmost reaches of the Niboria Empire.

The village nestled in a mountain valley was terribly small. The houses were huddled close together, and the alleyways would clog within half a day whenever snow fell. It was a place where wild animals and people lived side by side.

And this village carried an old story.

There was an old woman who lived alone on a hill.

"Don't go near that house."

People did not call her by name. They felt no need to. But whenever they passed by that place, they lowered their voices, and when children asked with curious eyes, the adults would change the subject.

There was no particular reason for it.

She had lived too long. She had been through too much, and above all else, she was still here, still breathing. Then one day, two men stepped into the out-of-the-way village.

Calix walked toward that hill without hesitation.

He stopped in front of the house at the top. The fence was low, and the wood in places had begun to lift and warp.

"This is it? There are signs that someone lives here, but…… It's been a while."

He gave a short nod to Volga, then stood there for a moment before stepping into the yard and opening the door. A hush hung inside. Not even the sound of crackling firewood. It was tidy, yet carried none of the warmth of a living presence. Old marks lined the walls, and the pillars were driven in with unusual thickness.

And then—

A woman sat in a rocking chair.

Her back was straight, but her body was gaunt. Wrinkled hands rested atop her knees, yet her gaze remained fixed toward the window. Her eyes were clouded.

Calix could tell that she could not see what lay before her.

He moved in slow, deliberate steps so as not to startle her. The floorboards creaked, yet the woman did not react. She registered the presence of someone nearby but showed not the slightest sign of surprise.

Calix came to a stop before her. He removed his robe and went down on one knee in front of her. The reason he had come all this way back was right before his eyes.

He slowly bowed his head and, with both hands, lifted the woman's hands. He pressed his forehead against the backs of her wrinkled hands. Her hands were as rough as the years that had passed over them.

And yet, they were warm.

A brief silence followed. Right after, the rocking chair moved ever so slightly. Only then did the woman's lips stir.

"……Gregor?"

It was unmistakably a child's name, yet the voice calling for Gregor was far too fragile. Calix did not raise his head as he answered without hesitation.

"Yes, Mother."

The woman did not ask again. She drew up the corners of her mouth—scarred by burns—and smiled brightly. She stroked the back of Calix's hand with joy.

Her eyes were blind and her hearing nearly gone, yet her love for Gregor had not changed at all.

Soon, her hand moved a little, settling on top of Calix's head. She tried to feel out his face, but her strength gave out, and her hand soon returned to where it had been.

That was all.

The cold wind blew in from outside, yet the worn-down house was filled with an inexplicable warmth. From outside came the sound of someone clearing the snow piled on the roof.

It was Volga.

He did not come inside. He caught the quiet sound of the old woman's voice, then turned his back. Nothing was changing.

But inside that house, everything the world had taken away was coming back.

***

There was an unused space inside the house. Because of it, a few of the roof boards had lifted, and the threshold creaked underfoot. Dust had gathered unseen in the corners, and the water bucket was nearly empty.

Calix moved his hands and feet first.

He sorted through timber and drove in nails. He patched gaps in the walls and tended to the places that leaked. In the meantime, Volga went back and forth into the village, bringing back what was needed.

"She seems to have been getting on alright, all things considered."

His manner of grumbling had not changed, but Volga let a quiet satisfaction show at the condition of the house. For an old woman living alone in a rural backwater, there was not much to fault.

Beyond that, he asked no questions.

He split firewood alongside Calix and stoked the fire. He melted snow to make drinking water, and when steam rose above the pot, he soaked a cloth and wiped down the old woman's body.

The woman complied without complaint, even with the uninvited guests. Depending on her mood that day, she sometimes left food behind, and sometimes ate every last bite. Strangely, as the days went on, color returned to her face.

"Did you use some kind of Art on her?"

"Not at all."

Volga suspected, but Calix had done nothing.

He was simply there.

During the day, he carried her on his back and went outside. There was a moment when Volga tried to smother her in a thick cotton blanket out of worry she might be cold, but it was laughed off.

At night, the three of them sat together and shared stories of days gone by. He told her about the Silver Shield Legion and how they had distinguished themselves in the war against the beasts. When the woman began to nod off, the two men quietly fell silent.

Perhaps because of it, the old woman stopped tossing and turning in the dead of night. Come morning, she would turn her head toward sounds from other parts of the room. Beyond that, there were no remarkable changes. Only the way each day passed had shifted slightly.

But in the eyes of others, that change looked like a miracle.

The villagers were the first to notice. Those who had been stealing glances at the strangers from over the fence began sidling up to speak to them. Among them were even some of the woman's own children.

"At first we thought they were bandits……"

While Volga brought up his connection to Gregor, Calix quietly stepped aside. While they spoke outside, he sat with the old woman and shared small, ordinary talk.

And from some point on, everyone began calling him by a different name.

"Gregor."

No one moved to correct it. Calix, too, made no effort to set it right. He knew that the name was not pointing to him, but calling out to the one who should have been here.

That was enough.

He proved nothing. He made no vow to protect, no pledge to save. Instead, he repeated the same thing every day.

Caring for the old woman.

The week they spent together was short.

But it was not wasted on a single soul.

And on exactly the seventh day, the old woman said she wanted to look outside.

Volga rose to his feet, declaring it was his turn to carry her on his back, but she insisted she would go out with Calix. Volga tried at least to drape a blanket over her, but she refused that too.

In that moment, the two men's eyes met.

Calix carried her in his arms just as she was and walked out of the house. Atop the hill, the sun was already sinking. Red light spread long and low over the snow-covered fields, and the wind was cold. The old woman, eyes closed, took it all in.

Life brimmed in her face, and a smile rested at the corners of her mouth. Volga watched from a distance, and Calix, too, honored what she was feeling.

And so a silence stretched on for some time.

At the end of it, the old woman opened her mouth.

"My son."

No name was attached to those words.

"Were you happy?"

Calix knew the question was not directed at him. She must have already understood, at least, that he was not Gregor. Even so, she was asking.

‘So be it.’

It did not matter who the question was meant for.

Calix answered without a moment's hesitation.

"More than anyone."

Whether by fortune or misfortune, the old woman asked nothing more. She did not nod, nor did she smile. Cradled in Gregor's arms, she looked out at the sunset, drew in her final breath—

And released it.

***

The old woman's funeral was held quietly.

The villagers and her family gathered at the foot of the hill, and an aged cloth was laid over the wooden coffin. Someone offered a prayer, but it was not long. Sending off one who had lived so fully did not call for many words.

Calix stood one step back.

He did not go to the front. There was no reason for him to stand at the center of the mourning. Instead, Volga took on the harder tasks. When the digging was done, the coffin was lowered into the earth and covered with soil.

In that moment, Calix felt something.

The fragments that had been severed inside his mind interlocked without a sound. The sensation of memories returning was close to the feeling of steadying one's breath. More than great sweeping recollections, it was the small and ordinary ones that surfaced one by one.

The funeral proceedings were over quickly.

The people dispersed one by one. Aside from the old woman's family offering words of thanks, no one came near. He returned to the house and tidied up what remained. There was nothing he needed to take with him.

"……You're going to leave again?"

Volga's voice came from behind him. He too had people he was responsible for, so he could not stay at his side forever.

Calix did not speak falsely.

"That's what I'm thinking."

"Until when?"

Regrettably, it was a question even he did not know the answer to. Volga rephrased and asked again.

"Will you come back?"

"……"

"What I mean is, if I were to wait for you, then someday……"

"Volga."

"……"

"We're friends, aren't we?"

No answer came from Volga. But both of them had found their answer.

A little while later, Calix looked back up at the hill one more time. The old woman's house was just as it had been. The fire was out, and the windows were shut tight. Even so, it did not look empty.

At last, he turned away.

Just then, someone riding on horseback slowly approached from across the way. The man wrapped in a grey robe drew near, violet eyes gleaming.

"Calix."

"……Yelayen."

Calix was not surprised. Yelayen had known that Calix's ties were being settled one by one. That was why he had given him time.

"Are you ready to leave?"

And then appeared, as if he had been waiting, and asked.

"Where are we going?"

Yelayen looked at Calix for a moment, then gave a faint smile.

"That's for you to decide."

Calix did not answer.

He simply took a step forward.

The end of a journey.

That was, at once, a new beginning.

(End)