# Chapter 9
“Rite. I’m not doing this for my own sake. You said you wanted to play with friends.”
“What does that have to do with the strawberry tart?”
“The strawberry tart is a reward for motivation. So instead of just being annoyed, let’s try one more time, okay?”
Rite didn’t seem to understand what I was saying, but I could see his stubbornness beginning to crumble. Not missing the opportunity, I approached Rite and made eye contact.
“Let’s try, even if it’s difficult. You want to play with other children, don’t you?”
“…”
“Show me your palms first. I need to see if you’re hurt.”
“…I’m not hurt.”
Rite hesitantly extended his palms toward me. The center of his palms was slightly swollen, but there were no wounds. I gently caressed the tender skin before releasing his hands.
“Instead of pressing with your palms like that, try to imagine it in your mind.”
“What kind of imagination?”
“Imagine the horns on your head disappearing.”
“Will the horns really disappear if I do that?”
“…Well, we have to try it to find out.”
I had read a book about magic. According to the book, visualizing and manifesting that visualization was important. Alchemy was similar. To sense the aether floating all around and to materialize it, closing your eyes and imagining was the common approach.
Rite let out a heavy sigh and closed his eyes. The space between his eyebrows tensed, as if to show he was trying hard. I watched quietly, afraid I might disturb him.
After about ten seconds, Rite suddenly opened his eyes.
“Did they go away?”
“…No.”
“I really can’t do this…”
“Let’s try just two more times. Then I’ll let you eat the strawberry tart.”
At my words, Rite closed his eyes again. This time, not only did his brows furrow, but he also clenched both hands tightly. Still, the horns didn’t diminish at all. I wondered if controlling them was even possible in the first place.
“How about now?”
Rite opened his eyes and asked again. When I shook my head, he closed his eyes once more. In truth, even if Rite could perfectly control and adjust his appearance, problems would remain.
His growth rate being different from others made it difficult to continue making excuses everywhere. When he was smaller, we could at least hide things under his clothes, but now there was nowhere to hide them.
I claimed he was a friend’s child I was looking after, but in a few years, I would have to invent a different excuse.
“How about now?”
Expectation gleamed in Rite’s eyes. His cheeks were flushed as if to prove how hard he had tried. I decided to tell a small lie.
“I think the horns might have gotten a bit smaller.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
Rite raised both hands to feel the horns on his head. His face brightened immediately, as if he truly felt they had become smaller.
“Can I eat the strawberry tart now?”
“Yes, good job.”
When I brought down the strawberry tart to the table, Rite immediately stabbed it with a fork. A large strawberry bounced off onto the plate. As Rite reached out his left hand for the strawberry that had fallen onto the table, I stopped him.
“Don’t eat what fell. Just eat that one.”
As I said this, I picked up the fallen strawberry and put it in my mouth. Regardless, Rite cut a large piece of the tart with his fork. Watching him eat with cream smeared all over his mouth, I felt more guilt and pity than affection.
I thought I still had a long way to go to become a good guardian.
* * *
Despite his lukewarm reaction, Rite was in high spirits from the morning. It was thanks to my reading him the founding myth again and explaining about the Founding Day.
He didn’t even eat the egg-shaped chocolate he had received, just placing it neatly on the windowsill and waiting for the festival day.
“Arden, look there.”
Rite’s eyes sparkled as he pointed to the person leading the costume parade. Though he still couldn’t put away his horns and had his head covered with a hood, the presence of his purple eyes was intense even in the shadowed face.
“Is that Noah?”
Where Rite pointed, a man wrapped in a black cloak was greeting people. He was probably dressed as Noah, but it was an incredibly crude portrayal.
Perhaps because it was Founding Day, the streets were more splendid than yesterday, but still modest compared to other cities.
Colored eggs were lined up on every house balcony, and stalls sold chocolates or egg models similar to what Rite had received yesterday. Long strings had been hung between buildings with colorful paper dangling down to create a festive atmosphere.
Regardless, Rite, seeing the Founding Day for the first time, seemed to find everything fascinating. Behind Noah walked a woman imitating the goddess Artalis. When the woman wearing a golden cloak and a paper crown greeted Rite, he didn’t know what to do.
“You should greet her back. Like this.”
I took hold of Rite’s wrist and waved it slowly, and the woman smiled as she passed us by. Behind Noah and Artalis marched a line of knights. Some of the knights had their heads bowed as if embarrassed, grumbling.
“Who is that person?”
Rite asked, pointing to a person among the knights wearing the most splendid clothes and carrying a sword at his waist. He was probably playing the role of the knight known as the Reincarnation of Noah’s Sword.
“He’s an escort knight. The knight who is best with a sword in the country. Such knights are called the Reincarnation of Noah’s Sword. They say that when a princess or prince who will inherit the throne is born, somewhere in the country, a knight who will protect them is born too.”
This was a story from when Artalis was a kingdom, not an empire. They say there were three conditions for becoming king that had to be met, but that tradition had long disappeared. Neither the current emperor nor previous emperors had met those conditions.
“Cool.”
Rite muttered softly as he looked at the knight. At this age, it was natural to admire knights or wizards. Finding his sentiment adorable, I gently patted Rite’s head.
Did I have something like that too? As I thought about it, my childhood dream immediately came to mind. An engineer for the imperial palace. My dream had been firm since then. In a way, I had achieved my dream, but the ending wasn’t so good.
“They’re all gone…”
Rite’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts, and I looked at the little one in front of me. Rite was looking at the end of the costume parade with a disappointed face.
“Want to follow them?”
“Is that okay?”
“I don’t see why not… but wouldn’t it be better to see other things too?”
“Other things? Like what?”
I didn’t know much about Winterishe’s Founding Day either, as it was my first time. The costume parade and the ritual ceremony that marks the end of the festival would be the same everywhere, but other things varied slightly from city to city.
In my hometown, people would throw paint at each other, and in the capital Moran, various competitions were held. The most popular among them was the swordsmanship competition, where the winner was awarded the honorary medal of the Reincarnation of Noah’s Sword.
Winterishe didn’t have any special local products, and there weren’t enough people to hold competitions. Still, it was a festival, so there must be something. Usually, the center of the village would be the most splendid place for such events, so heading to the square would be the way to go.
“Let’s go to the square.”
“Okay.”
Rite nodded and took my hand. I held his small, warm hand as we headed to the square. The costume parade was also heading toward the square, so most people were going in that direction. Thanks to this, we could walk easily even among the crowds.
As we walked along the path, Rite suddenly stopped. He was staring intently into the gap between the alleys.
“Is there something there?”
“Yes.”
Turning my gaze toward the inside of the alley, I saw several children gathered. In front of the children was a large box with wheels and three adults.
“Want to go and see?”
“Yes.”
Nodding his head, Rite stepped into the alley first. I followed as Rite led the way. As we got closer, I could finally see the box properly.
Painted yellow with flowers and fruits drawn on it, the wooden box had faded as if a long time had passed. Inside the box, which was wide open for everyone to see, were models of trees, houses, and small dolls.
“Looks like a puppet show.”
Both the dolls and the props decorating the stage looked old, but to the children watching, it seemed like a well-prepared play. Everyone was looking at the doll being moved by the man with interested faces.
“Though the little boy was young, he was very brave. He was fast at running. And he had a kind heart that couldn’t pass by someone in need.”
Along with the man’s narration, the little boy doll raised its arms and quickly crossed the stage.
It was a classic puppet show like the ones I used to watch as a child. As engineering developed, it naturally influenced the performing arts as well. I thought these kinds of puppet shows, where people directly moved each puppet, had almost all disappeared, but it seemed they still remained here.
On the stage where only the little boy doll had been, an old man doll with white hair appeared, staggering, and soon collapsed in front of the boy.
“Oh my, I’m hungry. Grandfather, please have some of my bread.”
One man made various voices and acted naturally, and Rite also began to immerse himself in the crude puppet show.
The little boy shared his bread with the old man and also picked up a stray dog and let it sleep in his bed. This seemed to be a scene showing the protagonist’s kind heart, but somehow it felt a bit strange.
After all, he’s just a little boy too. It was bizarre to see such a young child sharing his food with an old man and taking in and caring for a dog.
