Episode 27. Runaway
No one could ascend or descend the tower of Bercheria.
Beneath it, a magnificent carriage raced swiftly along the rugged forest path.
The wheels clattered loudly as they touched the ground.
Bercheria, who had been sitting on the tower railing, gazing at the leaves swaying in the breeze, her once calm face paled.
Clang.
The distant sound of the carriage wheels hitting the stone again brought her to her senses, and she jumped up and lay down on the floor.
With nothing to cover or spread, the cold stone floor became her bed.
Just below the tower, the carriage stopped, and the sound of sharp shoes, incongruous with the forest, could be heard.
Clink, click. Clink, click.
"Bercheria."
As soon as she stepped out of the carriage, her mother called her name in a tender voice.
The scent of the world she had brought wafted to Bercheria, carried by the wind.
The dry bread in her mother's hand...
"Bercheria. Today is a very special day."
A special medicine to take on special occasions.
Ever since Bercheria had fully grown and become an adult, it had always happened once a month.
She pretended to be asleep, but her body was trembling.
“My dear child. Look at this mother.”
A scent that had been felt from far away suddenly became right next to her.
Bercheria held her breath for a moment.
Today, too, she couldn’t see how her mother climbed the tower.
If she tried, she’d be whipped.
The method of ascending and descending the tower was her mother’s secret.
“Bercheria. You should wake up quickly.”
“...”
“Bercheria! Is your mother’s love lacking?”
“...I-I’m awake.”
She lifted her trembling eyelids and sat upright.
She pretended to wake up, rubbing them with the back of her hand.
“You’re here, Mother?”
“My dear Bercheria. Here, I’ve prepared it for you.”
Bercheria’s hands were trembling as she accepted the green vial the woman held out.
“Drink quickly. The pain is fleeting, but the happiness will last.”
She wanted to ask.
Was being trapped in this tower truly a blessing? Was it truly okay to take this potion, to be sapped of my strength, to just helplessly endure time?
No one could ascend or descend the tower of Bercheria.
Beneath it, a magnificent carriage raced swiftly along the rugged forest path.
The wheels clattered loudly as they touched the ground.
Bercheria, who had been sitting on the tower railing, gazing at the leaves swaying in the breeze, her once calm face paled.
Clang.
The distant sound of the carriage wheels hitting the stone again brought her to her senses, and she jumped up and lay down on the floor.
With nothing to cover or spread, the cold stone floor became her bed.
Just below the tower, the carriage stopped, and the sound of sharp shoes, incongruous with the forest, could be heard.
Clink, click. Clink, click.
"Bercheria."
As soon as she stepped out of the carriage, her mother called her name in a tender voice.
The scent of the world she had brought wafted to Bercheria, carried by the wind.
The dry bread in her mother's hand...
"Bercheria. Today is a very special day."
A special medicine to take on special occasions.
Ever since Bercheria had fully grown and become an adult, it had always happened once a month.
She pretended to be asleep, but her body was trembling.
“My dear child. Look at this mother.”
A scent that had been felt from far away suddenly became right next to her.
Bercheria held her breath for a moment.
Today, too, she couldn’t see how her mother climbed the tower.
If she tried, she’d be whipped.
The method of ascending and descending the tower was her mother’s secret.
“Bercheria. You should wake up quickly.”
“...”
“Bercheria! Is your mother’s love lacking?”
“...I-I’m awake.”
She lifted her trembling eyelids and sat upright.
She pretended to wake up, rubbing them with the back of her hand.
“You’re here, Mother?”
“My dear Bercheria. Here, I’ve prepared it for you.”
Bercheria’s hands were trembling as she accepted the green vial the woman held out.
“Drink quickly. The pain is fleeting, but the happiness will last.”
She wanted to ask.
Was being trapped in this tower truly a blessing? Was it truly okay to take this potion, to be sapped of my strength, to just helplessly endure time?
“Hurry. Bercheria.”
Her mother’s voice was as gentle and soft as ever.
“You have to drink it quickly, right?”
Bercheria raised her trembling hand and gulped down the sparkling green liquid.
“Ugh.”
The sensation of the liquid going down her throat was palpable. She had to experience this feeling—her esophagus burning, her entire body torn to pieces—once a month. The aftereffects were severe. From the next morning on, her entire body felt empty, trembling constantly.
For days, the chills persisted, leaving her in a daze. It felt as if her soul and life had been drained from her. Being whipped and kicked was fine. Being helpless, unable to do anything, felt like a sin.
“Ugh.”
Mother calmly stroked Bercheria's hair, which was scraping the floor, unable to bear the pain.
"Do you know how much I love you, Bercheria?"
"Ugh."
"Let's live happily like this for the rest of our lives. We'll live happily here, safe from those who hate you so much."
"Please, sob."
"Oh, right. Mom has some work to do today, so I think I should go now."
A dry, torn piece of bread lay beside the woman who stood up.
"Don't whine, and eat well. You understand what a mother says, don't you?"
She playfully nudged Bercheria's nose before descending the tower.
"Haa, haa."
Bercheria, who had been suffering in the tower alone, crawled along the floor and stuck her head over the railing. Her long hair hung down, her slender body dangling precariously, as if it might fall out at any moment.
The cold wind brushed her face, finally allowing her to breathe, and for a moment, she felt as if she had escaped the tower. Bercheria hung herself on the railing and remained motionless for a while.
"If only I could just evaporate like this."
That was the life. A life where nothing could be done but endure.
If Bercheria had to go back to that time, she would rather let her powers run wild and go mad.
She felt happier that way.
***
Lacrahan signed the last document and put the pen back in its holder.
The scenery outside the window had already darkened.
He took out his pocket watch, spread it out on the desk, and placed two fingers on his wrist.
He checked his pulse, which beat in time with the tick of the second hand.
After drinking the tea Kelita had poured for her, there had been no noticeable change in Lacrahan's body.
It was a tolerance to poison, meaning his life was not in danger, but that didn't mean he didn't react.
"A misunderstanding?"
Lacrahan muttered, sinking deep into his chair.
Kelita's eyes, shaking with confusion, were clearly hiding something.
It wasn't just a reaction to Lacrahan's refusal to marry her.
Furthermore, the fact that she had suddenly invited Bercheria for tea was suspicious.
If he hadn't met Madame Morgan, Lacrahan would have left Bercheria with Kelita, oblivious to the situation.
Even if it hadn't been poison, it would have been an uncomfortable time.
Bercheria had no reason to waste her emotions on such trivial matters.
She needed to focus solely on reclaiming her role as guardian of the land and goddess of the weather.
Lacrahan took out one of the reports he'd just reviewed and re-examined it.
It was packed with stories about the weather in the northern outskirts.
Since Bercheria's arrival, the weather in the north had gradually stabilized.
It had been a long drought, but several days of rain had brought life back to normal.
Except for one place. Even in the north, a village at the very edge of the earth was still suffering from the drought.
Lacrahan tapped the part where he had written with a pen, "Provide grain for the castle."
He needed to figure out if Bercheria's power hadn't fully returned, preventing it from reaching the area, or if there was another cause.
Click.
When his pocket watch struck 9 p.m., Lacrahan rose from his seat and donned his cloak.
Bercheria was waiting for him in the library.
As he walked outside and down the hallway, a rumble of thunder could be heard.
Lacrahan paused, drew back the curtains, and looked outside.
A flash of light burst across the dark sky, and Bercheria's face flashed before his eyes.
Although she was the goddess of weather, she didn't control all the weather on Earth.
She was a deity with the power to orchestrate events that could harm or trouble humanity.
Sometimes, nature struck like a disaster, claiming many lives.
In such instances, the weather goddess was always on humanity's side.
From that perspective, a thunderstorm like this could have been ignored.
But...
'Why am I so anxious?'
"Ugh!"
Lacrahan suddenly felt a pain in his arm, as if it were being torn off, and he quickly rolled up his sleeve.
He felt the divine form wrapped around his skin twist strangely.
"I need to meet Bercheria."
Lacrahan arrived at the library, walking a little faster than usual.
"Bercheria."
The library, lit all afternoon, offered no sign of life. He had a bad feeling.
Lacrahan immediately turned and headed toward the western castle where Bercheria resided.
His heart pounded anxiously.
The servants passing by greeted him, but he didn't have time to acknowledge them.
As he stepped onto the stairs winding around the wall, an unfamiliar leg swooped up beside him.
"Grand Duke?"
Laurent, who had also hurriedly walked up, noticed Lacrahan and greeted him with a surprised expression.
"Prince Laurent."
Lacrahan gave a quick greeting and climbed the stairs.
Laurent's silhouette passed by him as he strode forward, his mind racing with urgency.
Lacrahan picked up his pace a little, passing Laurent by a step.
"...Prince Laurent? What brings you here?"
"Ah."
"I've come to see a friend."
"A friend?"
“Yes. My Bercheria.”
Laurent smiled brightly as his eyes met Lacrahan’s.
Lacrahan, who had been narrowing his eyes and gazing at Laurent, awkwardly raised his lips and walked ahead of Laurent again.
Immediately after, Laurent overtook Lacrahan again.
“Ha.”
Lacrahan stared intently at the back of Laurent’s head.
The arrogant Prince seemed oblivious to the fact that no one in the North could outrun Lacrahan.
And one more thing.
Aren’t his legs longer than Prince’s, even without measuring them?
Lacrahan strode forward, walking ahead of Laurent so he couldn’t catch up.
The two of them climbed the stairs back and forth and arrived at the gates of Bercheria.
Boom!
A thunderous roar, as if angry, echoed from the sky.
Laurent looked at Lacrahan with a startled expression.
“...?”
Lacrahan’s brow furrowed.
Laurent knocked urgently on Bercheria’s door, and when there was no response, he opened it immediately.
“Bercheria!”
Lacrahan’s face hardened at Laurent’s shout. He reached out and grabbed her by the collar.
Red eyes came up to his nose.
“How did you know?”
The lizard perched on Laurent’s shoulder flicked its tongue.
“Wait a minute!”
Laurent shook off Lacrahan and listened to Aul.
Then, with a pale face, he said,
“Rampage.”
“...?”
“Bercheria’s power is rampaging. Right now.”
Lacrahan raked his cold eyes over Laurent’s face, then shook him off and ran outside.
***
A hill overlooking the north.
The woman leisurely waved her fan, looking down at Lavrahan’s castle from there.
Black clouds gathered, surrounding the castle.
Lightning flashed and struck within, drawing the woman’s crimson lips up.
“Yes, well done, Bercheria. Quickly tell the humans about your identity.”
The innocent child, still unaware of the true horrors of the world, dreamed vain dreams.
Someone would love her.
Someone would stay by her side no matter what.
Unaware that all humans live under masks, unaware that the end was ultimately a despair worse than death.
"This small, cute prey, who thought she could escape my grasp, is so pitiful to her mother."
In the end, Bercheria would return to her original state.
Humans would hate Bercheria even more, and seeing them would cause Bercheria to crumble once more.
"Be hurt, and be hurt again. Repeat this, and suffer until you can never rise again."
My beloved Bercheria.
A rumble.
The sound of the sky collapsing rang out, and soon, fist-sized hail began to fall.
And in the midst of it all, Bercheria, caught in the grip of her own unchecked power.
Comments
Post a Comment