For a Precious Person
Theorad stumbled back with a dull impact.
A moan escaped his parted lips before he dropped to his knees. Blood trickled from his mouth.
Pain overwhelmed him, but he neither screamed nor struggled. He looked down and accepted what had happened.
The bolt had pierced his heart.
God of Light…
His vision blurred. Blood mingled with the tears filling his eyes. He pressed a trembling hand over his chest and swallowed the cry rising in his throat.
As one of Your faithful, I dare to ask a final favor. I will be silent forever soon, but those I leave behind will not be able to forget the man Theorad Deharem.
He could feel his life slipping away. Slowly, he closed his eyes.
Please be merciful to those who must go on living with my failures. Let their sorrow remain sorrow. Don't let it turn to frustration and despair…
His breathing faltered.
Memories rose in its place: happiness, grief, the excitement of moments he had almost forgotten. Theorad smiled faintly at the last of them.
Then his head fell forward, and he grew still.
Even in death, his dignity had not deserted him.
“….”
Seamerd lowered his crossbow after confirming that Theorad was dead.
He had killed more people than he could count. Never before had a successful assignment left such a bitter taste.
Was it really right to kill this man?
He shook his head to clear away the thought. He was merely a tool in Prince Leonhard's hands. A tool had no business questioning its owner. Respect for the dead was one thing; disobedience was another.
He turned to the man beside him.
“Retrieve the bolt. Lay Viscount Theorad down.”
“Yes, Captain.”
The subordinate hurried forward, pulled the bolt from Theorad's chest and lowered his body carefully onto the ground, supporting his head.
Seamerd watched, then turned toward the trees.
“The assassination is complete! Everyone withdraw, now! Princess Benelia will have noticed something by this point. She'll be looking for him!”
The remaining crossbowmen fell in behind him.
The elf ran.
She leaped over bushes and tore through branches in her path, spreading her mana in every direction as she searched for Theorad.
The suppression stones made the search difficult. But even they could not absorb all of the elf's immense power. She forced more mana through the forest, overwhelming the stones one after another until they could no longer interfere.
Another clearing appeared ahead.
The smell of blood reached her before she entered it.
She fought down the thought that came with it and approached cautiously. Then, after pushing a branch aside, she stopped.
“….”
Theorad lay in the middle of the clearing.
Starlight fell over him. He looked so quiet, so strangely peaceful, that for an instant her mind refused to accept what her eyes were telling her.
“Theorad?”
She called from where she stood.
There was no answer. Only the night wind moved through the trees.
“That isn't funny, Theorad…”
Perhaps this was some horrible joke. If it was, he had better stop it before she became genuinely angry.
“Stop it…”
He didn't move.
After standing there for what felt like an age, the elf forced herself to take another step toward him.
At last she stood over him.
There was blood on his chest. No rise and fall of his breathing. Moonlight slipped through a break in the clouds and lit his motionless face.
He looked like a doll someone had arranged carefully on the ground.
“Insolent toy…”
It was unforgivable for a toy to leave its owner behind. And how dare he wear such a calm expression while doing it?
She wasn't sad. Not at all. She was angry. Perhaps she pitied him a little for dying so pointlessly, but that was all.
“It's only a broken toy…”
She could leave him here. Tomorrow would begin as tomorrow always did. Compared with all the years she'd lived, the short time she'd spent with Theorad was nothing.
“A toy…”
Then why couldn't she move?
Her vision swam. Something long held inside her was spilling free, and she couldn't make it stop.
Tears ran down her cheeks. She wiped them away, but more came. Her quiet sobs became uncontrollable.
She sank to her knees beside him. The blood on the ground soaked the hem of her skirt.
Finally, she reached for his hand.
It was cold.
The absence of warmth frightened her more than the blood. She could no longer pretend he was alive.
“….”
The elf gripped Theorad's hand and clenched her teeth.
Memories crowded into her mind, one after another.
She remembered him performing the part she'd demanded of him—scolding her, pushing her away, speaking as cruelly as she insisted a master should. Yet there had always been concern behind it. Even when she tormented him, he watched over her health and tried to spare her pain.
Those moments had made her happy.
Long years of betrayal and loneliness could have been discarded without hesitation. But she could not bear to lose even one of the memories she'd made with Theorad.
“I'm sorry…”
He had given her so much. He had humored demands that strained his own feelings, and despite his desires, he had not used his power to persecute others. He had been kind. He had been willing to sacrifice for someone else.
And he had kept his promise.
The old bet between them—that he would not succumb, no matter what she did—had already been settled in his favor.
“And still, I…”
She'd continued forcing him into impossible situations, using the need to watch him as an excuse. Even after she'd known he had won, she'd continued to torment him.
It no longer mattered what kind of person he might once have been. The man in front of her had honored his promise. The fault lay with her.
“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Theorad…”
If she'd admitted that earlier, things might have been different. If she hadn't perfected the artificial-rain spell, he might never have come to the Mage Tower at all.
He wouldn't have fallen into this ambush. He would have been back home, talking happily with Ashley and looking toward the future.
“I… I ruined everything…”
Guilt cut through her. Convinced she had caused a catastrophe that could never be undone, the elf lifted Theorad's upper body and gathered him into her arms.
Her tears fell onto his face.
He was right there. She could hold him as closely as she wished. But his body was cold, and nothing she did made him move.
“Theorad…”
She broke down again. She had failed to protect him. At last, unable to hide behind anger or pride, she began to understand how badly she'd wronged him.
There were too many mistakes to count.
“Ugh… ah…”
Theorad was not an insolent toy.
He was more precious to her than anyone else. He was not a wicked man who deserved to die abandoned in a place like this.
I have to save him.
She could not leave him dead.
Still holding him, the elf began to recite an incantation. Long ago, she had completed a spell capable, in theory, of bringing the dead back to life.
She had never dared use it.
Whooo…
Mana surged from her body. Wind raced through the clearing, setting the trees shuddering as shadows swallowed the light of the full moon.
She sensed that the spell was taking hold.
At the same time, she felt her own body begin to fail.
Resurrection ran directly against the laws of nature. It demanded an enormous price in mana, and it could ravage the caster's mind and body as well.
That was why the elf had never used the spell after completing it. She had never even announced its existence to the world. No one knew what its side effects would be.
Perhaps…
She might die to bring Theorad back.
Even knowing that, she continued her incantation.
She was afraid of living in a world without him. The weight of what she'd done to him was more than she believed she could carry through the long years ahead.
If her life was the price of his, she would pay it.
If Theorad could live happily in a world without her, that would be enough.
“I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry you ever met me…”
The elf clung to him, confessing the guilt she had carried for so long.
She loved the man she might never see again—the one man whose presence had touched both her body and her heart.
Her tears wouldn't stop. As the last of her strength slipped away, she closed her eyes, her lips moving in a final, faltering gesture toward him.