Despite the late hour, Anya found his way easily. He had gone back and forth so often that he felt he could walk this path with his eyes closed. His small shoes skillfully avoided the tangled tree roots on the ground. Above, an owl flew away with a long hoot.
‘Huh? That owl?’
Anya looked up to see the flying bird. It seemed like the same one he’d seen at the training grounds a few days ago. Somehow, the owl was flying in the same direction he was heading. The bird would fly ahead quickly and disappear from view, then strangely reappear. It was as if it was matching its pace to Anya’s footsteps. Despite frequently visiting the forest for training, this was his first time seeing this creature.
With his attention diverted to the owl while walking, he soon found himself in front of the Tree of Beginning. Anya pushed through the low vegetation and approached the tree that looked like a crouching giant. Sabelli had said that it would be easier to manipulate magical energy at night rather than during the day. He had left that single remark before going down to the village. Sabelli reportedly went down to the village irregularly to heal the poor.
“…”
If he couldn’t gather magical energy, he wouldn’t be able to learn the next spell anyway. Swordsmanship required not only natural talent but also a lot of time. Even with Sabelli’s presence, without advancing to the next level, there was nothing more the old man could do for him.
Nevertheless…
“Hooo.”
It would have been better if he were here. An inexplicable loneliness emerged. Anya was kicking at a stray branch with his foot when he suddenly gasped.
Under the Tree of Beginning lay Evernight, his hands clasped behind his head. The owl perched on a thick branch and hooted once more, long and low.
“Hooo.”
‘Please, don’t wake up, please, don’t wake up.’
Anya carefully moved his steps, hoping that Evernight wouldn’t wake. The man had his eyes closed under the moonlight filtering through the branches. It was puzzling why he was sleeping here rather than in his bedroom. With one leg bent and the other stretched out, his slender body was as elegant as a god in a masterpiece painting.
Anya carefully sat in the clearing near the Tree of Beginning and composed himself. The owl that had been perched on the branch fluttered its wings and descended near Anya. The black pupils within its golden eyes dilated greatly as it tilted its head. Soon it approached with tiny steps and circled around Anya.
“Hmm…”
Anya tried to concentrate, but he kept getting distracted by the owl and Evernight. Come on, close your eyes… feel the cool breeze flowing, smell the scent emitted by the trees, and…
“Hooo.”
Anya finally sighed softly and opened his eyes to face the owl. The owl moved even closer to him. There had been animals that occasionally visited the small garden at the imperial palace too. Anya reached out his hand toward the owl. The owl pushed its head under his palm. He felt the stiff feathers. Anya carefully stroked its round head.
“Today… no f-flame appears… so you c-came instead.”
The flame sometimes hovered around Anya, whispering playful words and singing strange songs. He couldn’t tell what language it was. It seemed like an ancient language.
“Ha, haha. That t-tickles. D-don’t do that.”
Sensing his distraction, the owl climbed onto Anya’s knee and nestled into his chest. Since he was drenched in sweat from training, the sensation felt particularly vivid.
“…”
Anya’s expression, which had been smiling and laughing as he twisted his body, suddenly froze.
“…”
Under the Tree of Beginning, Evernight was now awake, watching him. It was unclear how long he had been staring. His eyes were especially cold and sharp in the moonlight.
“H-hello, L-Lord Evernight.”
Anya awkwardly greeted him. It was their first interaction since they had exchanged unpleasant words that day.
“What are you doing here?”
Of all times, Sabelli Nox wasn’t present, and thus there was no one to make excuses on his behalf. Sabelli had earnestly cautioned him not to let slip even the first syllable of “magic” before the duel. Anya blurted out words without thinking.
“L-Lord Evernight. If I w-win, is it true that I’ll j-join the knights?”
Evernight snorted.
“You’re my companion, not a knight.”
His cold, piercing eyes were still demanding an answer.
“E-everyone said so. That it’s the l-law of the North.”
The North… Evernight recalled Anya laughing while petting his owl just moments ago. When he smiled, the delicate skin around his cheekbones, where baby hair had not yet fallen out, rose up. His laughter sounded clear and even seemed pure. He didn’t fit the North at all.
Everyone has no filter with this kid who hasn’t even lost all his baby hair.
“You must be confident?”
He raised the corner of his mouth in a crooked smile and nodded at Anya.
“I’ll watch and evaluate you. As the commander of the knights you so desperately want to join.”
Evernight drew his sword from its scabbard. The sword gleamed blue, as intense as the man’s eyes. Seeing the real sword that looked like it could steal souls, Anya momentarily wore a blank expression.
“Surely not…”
He frowned at Anya’s foolish expression.
“I’m not giving a real sword to a lump of blood like you.”
He threw the sword aside on the ground and handed only the scabbard to Anya, as if tossing it. Anya caught the flying scabbard with one hand, as if by habit.
* * *
“One hand?”
One of Evernight’s eyebrows rose. His firm and sharp jawline twitched once, and in an instant, he arrived in front of Anya. His movement was as silent as an elegant jaguar. His jet-black hair and skin—pale for a knight—blended harmoniously with the ancient forest scene illuminated by moonlight.
“Try to stab me.”
Anya lightly wrapped his hand around Evernight’s scabbard. It was incomparably smoother and colder than the wooden swords he had been using. The scabbard was as dark as the depths of a lake, and though its surface was smooth, strangely, it didn’t even reflect the moonlight.
‘A sword is both the honor and shame of a black knight.’
It was as if Sabelli’s strange manner of speaking could be heard on the wind. The old man had said that one must soothe a sword well. One shouldn’t grip it too tightly out of anxiety, nor too loosely out of complacency. Especially for a knight using a one-handed sword, one should hold it just so—like a feather—with just enough space for a small amount of air to pass between the palm and the sword handle.
Following his master’s teachings, Anya held the scabbard like a feather and extended it toward Evernight. It was a clean movement without any excess. Of course it was. He had practiced thousands of times.
The corner of Evernight’s mouth rose slightly. Though it shouldn’t be possible, it didn’t look like mockery or contempt.
“What are you doing?”
Evernight was without armor or weapons. He was literally defenseless. But Anya couldn’t readily point his blade at the man. Anya didn’t know a single attack move. While he hesitated, Evernight grabbed the tip of the scabbard and pulled it strongly. Anya’s feet on the snow left long marks as he was dragged forward. The end of the scabbard collided hard with Evernight’s abdomen. But Evernight didn’t even flinch, as if he couldn’t feel pain.
“The moment you hesitate is the end, kid.”
They were so close that Anya could feel his breath. Anya hastily stepped back, but since they both held opposite ends of the scabbard, he couldn’t go far.
“B-but… h-how do I attack…?”
Because of the close proximity, the man’s eyes bore into him intensely, just like on their wedding night. Whether from fear or from the misery of that day, his heart raced. Anya tried his best not to show his confusion as he strung his words together like an excuse.
“Did that old man not teach you anything?”
Evernight interrupted before he could finish. He swept his bangs up and laughed incredulously.
“L-Lord Sabelli is currently d-down in the village d-doing charity work. I didn’t w-want to because of me…”
He didn’t want to blame Sabelli Nox in front of Evernight. ‘I’m sorry, boy. If I don’t go, that child might die.’ Moreover, he had rushed down because there was a critically ill person whose life was fading. Even with a few more days of instruction, someone like him who still couldn’t properly wield a sword wouldn’t improve much. But Evernight admonished Anya.
“Are you unnecessarily innocent, or are you really a fool?”
Anya’s ears turned red at Evernight’s words.
“A sword both saves and kills.”
Evernight, like Sabelli, expressed the sword as if it were a person with a different interior and exterior. Was it because he too had once been Sabelli’s disciple? At that moment, Evernight pulled the scabbard again. Anya’s body helplessly lurched forward. His wheat-colored hair rippled like small waves.
“Save yourself while simultaneously killing your opponent. That’s the destiny of a sword.”
Evernight whispered near his ear. Because the man was tall, Anya had to raise his head quite a bit. Behind Evernight’s face, which was looking down at him, the moon hung eerily.
“Eyes.”
He raised his hand and caressed the area around Anya’s eyes. The man’s hands were as fair and long as the typical Northern white skin, not giving the impression of a knight at first glance. Nevertheless, they emanated a dangerous, precarious atmosphere that felt mentally oppressive.
“Philtrum.”
His finger traced down the contour of his face and caressed near his lips.
“Solar plexus.”
As his hand moved down along the neckline, it was enough to raise goosebumps on Anya’s forearm. Anya couldn’t move. As his hand touched near the chest, Evernight spoke in a low, deep voice.
“And…”
His gaze moved steadily downward. His large, long fingers followed, lingering near the abdomen. Anya didn’t want to think about how far down Evernight’s gaze might go, so he lowered his head and stared at his own feet. His lower abdomen felt ticklish.
