CHAPTER 7

  A NEW JOURNEY

  When Jay heard it, what should have been happiness turned into sadness. Hearing his father say, “I’m going to war,” sparked a fear of losing him, mingled with sorrow and the urge to beg him not to go. Yet Jay knew it would be useless to voice it.

  ‘I can’t ask Poul not to go to war. After all, he’s a hero… and a captain,’ Jay thought, clenching his fists, unable to even look his father in the eyes.

  Poul anticipated his son’s reaction, so he planned something to distract him and help him come to terms with it.

  “Jay, get ready. You’ve been discharged.”

  Jay nodded, turned his head, and got out of bed. He grabbed his clothes to change. While he dressed, Poul ran into his friend Luis, who was out of breath from running.

  “You came running here?”

  “Of course! Jay has been discharged, and we’re going to reward him with what he loves. Is there a bookstore nearby that’s open?” Luis asked, resting a hand on his chin.

  “A good question, Luis… is there one?”

  As they pondered, a little girl with white hair caught Poul’s attention. She was accompanied by an elegant man with blonde hair and a matching beard.

  When she spotted Poul talking to Luis, she walked toward him with the man. As she reached Poul, she spoke joyfully:

  “Hero, you said you’d tell Jay he’s been discharged, right?!”

  “Yes, Saint Clarice, I already told my son he’s been discharged,” Poul replied, smiling.

  ‘We’re going to buy books! How wonderful! I’ll be like a sister to him, alongside his friend and all these genuine people in one place… what joy!’ Saint Clarice thought, overflowing with happiness.

  Meanwhile, Jay gritted his teeth in frustration. The fear of losing someone he loved and who had always cared for him made his heart race. Cold sweat dripped down his face as images of his father dying flashed in his mind—each death more brutal and different than the last. Anxiety overwhelmed him until he sank to his knees, curled up, wearing only his pants.

  Then he heard Roh’s voice.

  “What a pathetic scene you’re making,” Roh said, laughing. Then he stared into Jay’s soul. “You’re a complete hypocrite. You’ve killed two people, tearing them from their families, destroying those families… and now…” He looked coldly at Jay. Jay closed and opened his eyes, tears forming, letting out a deep sigh. “You’re begging your father not to go to war because you’re afraid of losing him?! How hypocritical of you, Jay.”

  Roh’s words cut deep, wounding Jay’s heart. He grew pensive.

  ‘He’s right… I am a hypocrite. I should become a slave, to pay for my sins. I am a killer. I… I should truly become a slave of ice.’

  Ice formed in his hand, a thin thread creeping up his arm. Roh smiled darkly and gleefully, seeing him shrink to the ground, ice flowing through him, accepting his fate as an ice slave.

  Then someone interrupted the flow, calling his name.

  “Jay! Are you ready?” A familiar female voice broke the spell.

  The ice stopped spreading. Jay stood and looked around but saw no one. Roh clicked his tongue in frustration.

  ‘Next time, you won’t have that voice to help you, Jay… then I’ll make you my ice slave,’ Roh thought maliciously.

  Jay buttoned his shirt and rushed out of his room. In the mirror, he noticed a patch of ice on his hand. Pale and frightened, he whispered to himself:

  “W-Was that r-really real?!”

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  Hesitant to leave the room, he covered his ice-tinged hand.

  Opening the door, he saw his family. He forced a hollow smile, which they noticed, puzzled by his delay. Jay apologized, and they headed to the bookstore.

  ‘He’s acting strange. His smile used to be light as a flower… now it’s heavy as a rock. He’s hiding something,’ Saint Clarice observed, analyzing his behavior naturally.

  At the Noa bookstore, Jay went straight to the action books. Saint wanted to join, but Kyrai stopped her.

  “Nope. I’m afraid you’ll find trouble if you go with them,” Kyrai said, already predicting what might happen.

  “But we were supposed to pick a book together.”

  “Not now.” Kyrai raised her hand to her face, winking. “Understood?”

  Clarice pouted in disappointment.

  “I’ll make sure they don’t mess around,” Mary said, starting to walk. Kyrai and Clarice nodded.

  Mary approached the two boys while outside the bookstore a crowd had formed, curious about the human king. He was keeping the bookstore exclusive for Poul’s and Luis’ families, turning away anyone else.

  Even as a saint to humans and elves, Saint Clarice faced prejudice because of her elven heritage. Elves considered themselves superior, enjoying near-perfect economies and unrestricted magic use. They were powerful but hated.

  Poul and Luis watched the royal knights keep the crowd at bay.

  “Luis!” Poul called, snapping his friend out of his distraction.

  “Yes, Poul?”

  “I want you to take care of my son,” Poul said, sighing. “I’m going to war in a few days. Please, do what I can’t.”

  Luis smiled. “Of course I’ll take care of him—I’ve already been doing your job, Icey.”

  “Icey? What did you say, damn it!” Poul snapped.

  Luis laughed. “Glad you trust me, Poul. I was starting to think you didn’t.”

  “I’ve always trusted you, idiot.”

  “Didn’t seem like it,” Luis replied as the wind tousled their hair. Poul sensed something dark in his friend—a willingness to do anything to protect those he loves, even kill.

  “Luis… have you ever killed anyone?”

  “Why do you ask, Poul?”

  “Not just curiosity.”

  “I see… yes. I’ve killed to protect those I love,” Luis said, eyes dark. “That’s my justice.”

  Poul realized their sense of justice was similar, applied differently.

  “You object to my justice, Poul?” Luis asked.

  Poul looked down, then at him. “No. I am not different from you.”

  Luis smiled, surprised, and they continued talking.

  Meanwhile, Jay walked with Noa and Mary, browsing shelves, reading titles and authors. Something felt off.

  ‘Where’s that excitement I had before? The joy of buying new books…’ He felt hollow, his previous life creeping back. ‘Even here, my only interest—reading—is fading.’ Jay gave a sarcastic smile. ‘How funny.’

  Mary noticed, frowning with concern.

  ‘He’s acting strange. He wouldn’t behave this way with books… he’s obsessed with them. I need to make him talk to me about it,’ she thought confidently.

  Noa’s eyes shone, unlike Jay’s now lifeless ones. He picked up a book with a slightly melancholic cover, sat down, and began reading.

  ‘Why is he interested in such a somber-looking book?’ Jay wondered.

  “Hey, Jay! I’m checking out this section. Nothing beats Tb, that masterpiece,” Noa said, closing his hand, tears falling. “Aren’t you coming?”

  “I’ll read this one,” Jay replied.

  Accepting it, Noa sighed. ‘I wanted to see it with him… like we always did. But okay, I’ll look for something near Tb.’

  Jay returned to his book. Mary followed Noa until he found a quiet corner, leaving Jay alone.

  ‘Interesting… I can see myself in the protagonist. I like this book; I’ll read a bit more.’

  When Jay sensed someone watching him, he turned and was surprised to see Saint Clarice.

  “Santa?! What are you doing here? Weren’t you with that… thing?!”

  “Thing? You mean Kyrai?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  She laughed, embarrassed. “I got interested in a book and lost track of Kyrai. I’m here by coincidence.”

  Jay placed a hand behind his head. ‘Same with me… almost.’

  Clarice noticed the melancholic cover matched his mood.

  ‘My book is bright and happy… his is somber and hopeless. If there’s even a glimmer of hope, he’ll grab it and protect it like his life depends on it,’ she thought.

  “What are you reading?” she asked, feigning curiosity.

  “How can I be happy?” he replied.

  “Can I read with you?” she pleaded silently, hoping he’d say yes.

  “You may,” Jay replied.

  Her joy was immediate. Sitting beside him, they read. Occasionally, they’d point out interesting passages.

  “Jay!”

  “What?”

  “The protagonist… he’s a bit like you, isn’t he?” Clarice asked.

  “Yes, he is,” Jay admitted.

  ‘For some reason, I want to talk to this girl more,’ he thought.

  After finishing her book, Clarice got up.

  ‘Somehow, my moment of happiness ends here,’ Jay thought, slightly disappointed.

  She returned the first volume of his book to its shelf and resumed reading in her corner. Jay was impressed by her initiative, smiling genuinely as he returned to his book. She didn’t notice.

  Later, Jay felt someone resting on his shoulder—it was the white-haired girl napping. He smiled again and continued reading.

  When he glanced at the book she had read, he thought: ‘Why not try hers? Maybe it’s good.’

  He read it until she woke up, startled.

  ‘Did I sleep?’ She realized she had napped on Jay’s shoulder, blushing and embarrassed.

  “You awake, sleepyhead?” Jay teased.

  “I… I just slept a little, okay?! Idiot!” she said, face red.

  Jay chuckled softly, naturally.

  ‘I managed to ease his pain! I transformed his rock-heavy smile into one as light as a feather.’

  Clarice smiled, unaware of how her happiness affected him.

  Jay’s eyes widened, seeing hope in her.

  ‘She could be my hope… my shelter. She must never leave me.’ He hugged her, releasing tears he had held in. ‘She is my light.’

  Saint Clarice simply comforted him.