Chapter 21: The End of the Midnight Sun

During the last few hours before nightfall, Sir Norn paced anxiously at the village entrance. He said he’d be back by sunset, he thought. Vera’s face when he left had been resolute, a face of a man going to war.

Perhaps he was worrying too much. After all, Vera was an Apostle, a man of incomprehensible strength, far beyond Norn's own. But Norn still worried. To him, an eighteen-year-old was just an inexperienced boy. As an adult, it was only natural to be concerned.

Why isn't he back yet? Norn thought, a knot forming in his stomach. Should he have followed him? Just as he began to panic, a faint rustling came from the bushes behind him. Norn reflexively turned.

Vera emerged, looking as if he'd just walked out of a bloodbath.

“Sir Vera!” Norn exclaimed, relief flooding his face. But his steps faltered as he got a closer look. He held his breath.

“This...” Norn said, bewildered.

“I took care of it,” Vera replied, a hint of exhaustion in his voice.

“Are you alright?” Norn asked.

“Yes, as you can see, I have no injuries. But my clothes...” Vera gestured to the hem of his robe, which was dripping with blood. Norn’s eyes followed the trail.

How much did he fight? How did he get so drenched in blood? Norn swallowed the questions and bowed his head.

“Oh, I see. Please go in for now. You have some time before the Saint wakes up to sort things out,” Norn said.

“The Dragonians may return. We need to figure out their route and any rumors about them, so please gather information on the surrounding area,” Vera instructed.

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll take my leave.”

Vera walked past him toward the village. Norn watched his retreating back, the trail of dripping blood painting the dirt. The dismal tone in Vera’s voice lingered in his head. Did something happen? he wondered. Vera seemed different, changed.

---

Vera took his spare clothes and walked to the river. Covered in blood, he threw himself into the icy stream. The cold water washed away his fatigue. He plunged his head into the freezing water, trying to clear his mind, but his gaze was drawn to the blood washing away from his body.

A long red trail snaked through the clear water. It was a trail that overlapped with the path he had walked in this life. He felt an agonizing disgust for his stubborn self. He took a deep breath and plunged his head back into the stream.

Splash.

The cold water was a shock, a piercing feeling that cleared his mind. “Get a hold of yourself!” he muttered. It was not the time for self-pity. So what if he hadn't changed? What if he was still wielding a beast’s sword? Renee was here. He had to protect her, even if it meant being a beast.

The only thing stopping him was himself.

He held his breath, his chest tight, and his eyes wide open as he lifted his head from the water.

Splash!

Water sprayed around him. He stood up, clenching his teeth as he watched the ripples spread. “I can do it.”

He was confident that he could fend off any number of enemies. Renee was slowly opening her heart to him. All he had to do was get rid of his self-hatred. If he could protect her, she would eventually light the path for him to change. In that moment, he would be reborn as a man, not a slum-born villain.

Water dripped from his chin, creating a ripple in the river. He turned away from the stream and began to walk.

“...I will protect Renee.”

---

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Stomp. Stomp. Stomp.

Renee’s cane and Vera’s footsteps echoed in a steady rhythm. Vera now walked a little further away from her. Their conversation was still brief, a mix of talk about the weather, the breeze, and memories.

They walked in silence for a while.

“What’s wrong?” Renee asked suddenly.

Vera flinched, then quickly replied, “Nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

“That’s right,” he said firmly, hoping to satisfy her so she wouldn’t worry. He closed his mouth and kept walking. But was there a subtle sign he had missed? Or was it something only she could sense?

“Do you know?” Renee asked.

“What?”

She stopped, turned to face him, and continued. “People who are troubled and try to hide it often speak in a low voice. It’s like they swallow before they speak. When they lie, their voice gets heavy and shaky. Even if they try to hide it, the end of their words gets cut short. The guilt shows through. It's easier to notice if you remember their usual voice. Isn't it amazing?”

Vera looked at her, sighing inwardly. He had forgotten she could tell when he was lying.

“Is it something you can't tell me?” she asked, a concerned tone in her voice. Before he could speak, she continued, her voice full of warmth and a slightly embarrassed smile.

“My ears are fine. Although I can't see, I can listen. And... you always listen to my problems, so I think I should at least do this in return.” She lowered her head slightly, her voice growing quieter toward the end, flustered by her own words.

Her words were filled with a consideration that made him feel incredibly weak. He struggled to clear his throat. “Nothing really happened. I think my voice was a little hoarse from the chilly night. I apologize.” It was a long, simple excuse, but Renee didn't seem to believe it.

She thought for a moment. She felt the distance between them growing, more than usual. She heard a crack in his voice, not just from the cold. It was anger, or maybe sorrow. If she had to pick the strongest emotion, it would be hatred. Renee understood the wavelength of hatred better than anyone. It was the same feeling she had when her prayers were betrayed.

She didn't know who he hated or what caused it. She just knew it was there. It was only natural, as humans are fools who can’t even understand themselves, let alone others. She knew it might be rude to pry, but she wanted to listen to him. She couldn’t solve his problems or fully empathize, but she could at least listen. It was a courtesy she felt she owed him, for silently following her and enduring her anger.

“Sir Knight, do you know?” she began again.

“What?”

“I can smell blood. A pretty bad scent, too.”

Crunch.

Vera instinctively took a step back, the sound of trampled grass echoing. Renee took a step forward, and he took another step back.

“I may be blind, but I am no fool.”

“I apologize.”

“There is nothing to apologize for.”

“I apologize.”

“An apology is for when you make a mistake.”

Vera fell silent. Renee grinned slightly, knowing she had finally silenced him.

“I think you’re my friend. You listen to my concerns, and we’ve been together for over a week. So... I think we’re probably friends.”

“It’s my pleasure to help you.”

“I mean, that’s my opinion. If you don’t agree, I can’t help that.”

He was silent again.

“Friends help each other. I want to try and comfort you when you’re having a difficult time. Could you tell me? You've comforted me, and I want to do the same for you.”

Vera looked at her face, her eyes out of focus. But in his mind, he saw her former self, a brilliant light. Her lips were smiling. Her enthusiastic approach made him tremble. He laughed to himself, a hollow, bitter laugh, realizing his arrogance and stupidity.

To protect?

Who was saving whom? Who was protecting whom? On what basis had he judged that her light had not yet ignited?

Vera’s brows furrowed. He sighed and gritted his teeth. She was still a child, but she had the virtue to face his hatred. She had a brilliant light, even in her time of despair. The flame he thought hadn't ignited was already burning in her heart. His arrogance and ignorance had blinded him.

“Can’t you?” Renee asked.

What a fool. He had been so focused on protecting her, so consumed by his own flaws, that he had become impatient. He had been a fool.

Vera finally accepted her offer. “...Sure, why not?”

“Oh, you’ll tell me then?” Her voice was bright, filled with warmth.

He felt an intense emotion swirling inside him, threatening to erupt. His throat felt parched. He spoke, the words sounding like a confession from a sinful being.

“...I feel that the light I'm trying to chase is too far away.”