SWY 131

When Sharhan arrived in front of the storehouse, resisting the urge to look back, Lestel caught up to him in an instant and yanked his wrist.

“Talk to me now… unless you’re really trying to let me rot inside….”

Lestel trailed off, panting heavily. His bloodshot eyes looked like the vessels had burst, and the tears still wouldn’t stop. Sharhan clenched his jaw as he met those green eyes, trembling with fear and anxiety like someone pushed to the edge of a cliff.

“I told you I need time to think! So just leave me alone!”

Sharhan shook off Lestel’s hand and turned away, but Lestel grabbed him again. Sharhan broke free once more, then shoved Lestel hard in the shoulder, frustration, anger, and chaos all mixing in his voice.

“Is asking for time just nonsense to you or something…? Wait, what is this? Blood?”

Startled by the wet feeling in his clenched fist, Sharhan looked down. His pupils shook. Even in the dim light, where only the moonlight and the dying embers from the shelter remained, the red wasn’t vivid, but it was unmistakably blood.

“You’re hurt?!”

“It’s nothing. Just got grazed by a sword earlier.”

“You’ve been hiding that all this time? How bad is it?”

Sharhan, eyes wide, tried to pull open Lestel’s robe, but Lestel stopped him by grabbing his wrist. Every muscle in his body was tense as he forced the words out.

“Does a wound like this matter right now?”

“You’re calling this just a wound?”

“Yes! An injury like this doesn’t mean anything. What hurts more is here. My heart. I can’t even breathe because I’m scared you’ll turn away from me and leave.”

“……”

“You need time to think… fine, I get it. You probably resent me. Probably hate me.”

“……”

“Okay, I’ll wait. Just promise me one thing. Tell me you’ll never abandon me. Promise me you’ll stay with me even if you hate me or resent me. If you’re going to leave… then just kill me instead. If I die by your hand, I’ll be happy–”

Sharhan shoved Lestel’s hand away and punched him. A loud thud rang out as Lestel’s head snapped to the side. Sharhan glared at him as he wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Do you even hear yourself right now…?”

Sharhan couldn’t finish. His breathing was ragged, his emotions so intense he couldn’t speak. He knew. If he ever abandoned Lestel, he would crumble like a lifeless puppet.

But to say he’d rather be killed… how could he say that? Furious, Sharhan raised his hand again, ready to strike–

The storehouse door creaked open and Ardelle poked her head out.

“Why aren’t you two coming in? Derry’s worried. He’s scared something sudden might happen again, like at the villa, and you’ll both disappear.”

“I was just about to go in. Ardelle, check on Lestel. He got stabbed in the shoulder.”

“What? Me?”

“Yes. Please.”

Ardelle looked back and forth between Sharhan, who walked into the storehouse, and Lestel, who stood frozen. She scratched her head.

“You two fought again? Not that it’s rare or anything… but this time you really fought?”

“……”

Lestel said nothing. Ardelle sighed and tugged him into the storehouse, shutting the door behind them. Even when she dragged him toward the torchlight, Lestel followed obediently, like a docile child. It was strange. He looked like someone in total despair.

“Luckily, it doesn’t seem too deep. I’ll try to find some herbs once the sun’s up.”

“……”

Even when Ardelle brought over a clean cloth and dressed the wound, Lestel didn’t let out a single sound. Ardelle was about to ask if it hurt when she noticed the silent tears streaming down his blank face. She froze in shock.

“You’re crying… Uh… no, never mind. Just get some sleep.”

Lestel had always been calm and firm in front of everyone except Sharhan. Sometimes it even made Ardelle resent him. Seeing him cry was jarring. She couldn’t even bring herself to ask what was wrong.

Ardelle turned and glanced at Sharhan, who lay curled up beside Derry, then looked away. It didn’t feel like something she could get involved in.

Lestel remained standing still, unmoving, as Ardelle sat down near the children. When she looked back, he still hadn’t moved.

He looked just like a puppet, its strings cut, left behind and forgotten.

***

Creak.

The storehouse had been dead silent, but someone opening the door broke that stillness.

“D-Did the door just open? Someone didn’t sneak in, did they?!”

“Looks like morning’s here.”

“Did someone leave…? Who went out?”

People murmured in unease. Sharhan, lying beside Derry, sat up. His head was heavy with exhaustion from a sleepless night.

As he winced from the pounding headache that came with even the smallest movement, the person who had gone outside returned.

It was Randall. Like a turtle poking its head out, he faced everyone’s stares and flung the door open.

“The sun has risen.”

At Randall’s words, everyone poured outside. He gently reminded them not to make too much noise.

“It’s really morning?”

Derry, half-asleep and groggy, blinked.

“Yeah. Want to go see?”

“Yes!”

Sharhan helped him up and headed outside. Derry beamed at the early sunlight, then frowned at the sight of so many corpses.

Those who had already stepped out earlier weren’t surprised by the devastation. They’d seen it before.

“Can we light a fire?”

“Let’s cook and eat together.”

“Maybe roast some potatoes… I hope we can find a pot for soup.”

“Let’s move the corpses first.”

Without anyone giving orders, people began to take on tasks themselves. Someone had moved Alfredo’s body outside earlier, and a few spat on it in passing.

Their eyes, once withered like starved twigs from lack of sun and food, now gleamed with life.

It was the hope of survival. Even the children helped, toddling around with small branches in their arms.

“I’ll light the fire!”

“Can you do it?”

“I had some potatoes yesterday, so I think I can manage.”

Sharhan watched silently as Derry, among others, tried to start the fire with magic. His spark was barely enough to light the driest leaves, but that small flame was enough to excite the children.

They huddled close, proud and smug, acting as if they’d lit it themselves. Their show of closeness with Derry was both funny and endearing.

As Sharhan leaned against the storehouse wall, dazedly watching the busy people, someone tapped his shoulder.

“How’s Lestel?”

He turned to see Ardelle, and at the simple question, his throat tightened.

“So you do care? I thought you didn’t, since you left him to me and never even glanced his way. I figured the fight was so bad you stopped caring altogether.”

Sharhan ran a hand down his face and laughed faintly.

“Even in this mess, I still worry about him. A lot.”

Truthfully, while he spent the night thinking until his head hurt, the one who occupied his mind the most was Lestel. He lost count of how many times he wanted to get up and check on him.

But he didn’t. For one reason only.

‘Lestel probably didn’t sleep either.’

Sharhan knew, more than anyone, that Lestel was likely lying awake, suffering too. And if he went to check, it might look like forgiveness. He couldn’t let that happen.

“You’re not going to tell me why you fought, huh?”

“No.”

“Thought so.”

“How… did the wound look?”

“Not too deep, thankfully. I stopped the bleeding at dawn, but it might fester, so we’ll need herbs. But…”

“…Why’d you trail off?”

“He was crying.”

“……”

“He cried so desperately.”

Ardelle looked at Sharhan’s twisted expression and sighed. She patted his shoulder in consolation, then ran toward Peter, who was bringing out a bundle of potatoes.

“Not too heavy?”

“I can carry it! Miss, let’s roast these! We can eat them, right?”

“Of course. Let’s eat till we’re full.”

She patted Peter’s head as he set the potatoes beside the now blazing fire.

“We’re thinking of going hunting. The children should have some meat. We might be able to catch a few small animals. Please watch over things while we’re gone.”

Randall and Samson had come over. Their eyes lingered on Ian, smiling among the children.

“Got it. Be careful. And… do you know much about herbs?”

“Herbs? Is someone hurt?”

“Lestel got stabbed with a sword.”

“Oh dear, during yesterday’s fight, I assume. Don’t worry. I’m no apothecary, but I know enough to treat a wound.”

The two brothers glanced at Ian one more time before taking their traps and weapons into the forest. Sharhan, reluctant to stay idle, turned to find something to do but paused.

Lestel was standing at the storehouse entrance, staring straight at him.