A coastline drawn in an arc like a crescent moon cut into the cozy land like the embrace of the Mother Goddess. The waves that crashed as if someone pulled and released a string were the gesture of the Father God longing to kiss the white sand beach. The surging waters that approached, pushing up their hips, soon scattered white foam like a sigh before vanishing.
At the beak-shaped cape located at the end of the curved coastline, a cliff entwined with countless legends rose high. The marble temple standing tall atop the sheer cliff was a sanctuary dedicated to Pontos, the god of water.
Upon the temple’s gable roof stood a statue of Pontos, holding a trident in his left hand and standing askew, boasting a gallant bearing. At sunset, the sight of the refracting dusk dyeing the giant trident golden was truly a sight to behold.
Beneath the cliff below the temple lay a cave shaped like an open-mouthed crocodile; this place served as a storehouse where the temple priests stashed various offerings.
Cool blue-green waters surged and swept over the gray rocks as if washing them, then receded. In front of it, at the entrance of the limestone cave, stood a small decorated altar.
Apple trees planted on either side of the altar’s pillars gave off a fragrant floral scent, and the base of the nude goddess statue seated in the center was filled with offerings praying for abundance.
This cozy sanctuary, surrounded by currents as if receiving the protection of Pontos, was likely dedicated to his wife, Thalassa.
Tooooot.
Startled by the sound of the horn, seagulls flew up over the sea. The rough shouts of sailors holding ropes and mooring ships echoed here and there.
The city said to have been created by the strike of Pontos’s spear—Triton.
The fishing village located along the coastline had early accumulated wealth through trade and commerce, and after becoming a great city-state, it was called Triton, derived from the three soaring cliffs.
The first king was a merchant who had possessed the largest fleet in Triton. He imported and sold luxury goods such as expensive perfumes and ivory from foreign lands across the sea, a man so passionate about business that he would personally board the deck on every voyage.
Then came a certain day.
The white sail emblazoned with the symbol of the fleet—a bull and two horn motifs—flapped elegantly, cleaving through the waves.
But alas! O ye blinded by treasure, you forgot to offer tribute to the Ruler of the Waves. It seems you had forgotten that divine protection is as capricious as the sea.
From the next day, the sea surface began to churn and show its temper. The ashen skies, darkened as if Uranus had furrowed his brow, soon brought a typhoon.
The sailors’ eyes grew uneasy at the rumbling thunder. The pouring downpour was as fierce as the hammer of enraged gods. From experience, a foreboding feeling arose.
The staggering ship was battered by waves and came to the brink of capsizing. No matter how skilled the oarsmen rowed, it seemed difficult to right the stern that was losing its bearings, being swallowed by the sea.
Boom-boom.
Even the sailor below deck beating the drum to raise morale dropped his sticks and fell. He vomited with a retch.
As the drum sound faded, the waves crashing against the deck grew louder than the ship itself. The howling wind striking the torn sail reverberated like the roar of Pontos.
Frightened sailors lowered their oars one by one. A young sailor who had been coughing at the water rushing through the scupper complained of dizziness and closed his eyes.
“It’s all over. We’re all going to die.”
Despair is always contagious.
“Pontos is enraged.”
“It’s because we carry ill-omened things over the sacred sea….”
Terror spread in an instant like smoke, and sighs leaked out here and there.
The merchant shipowner walked out onto the deck in despair. He knelt down, stretched out both arms, and appealed to the dark heavens.
“Father Pontos! Do you truly mean to abandon us?”
He was a man of deep faith. Though he had no family, he cherished his fleet’s crew like brothers.
“It is unjust! What have I done so wrong?”
The merchant shouted, veins bulging in his neck. Pontos, the patron deity of sailors, was known for being fair and just, also known as a god of justice.
The merchant thought. He had lived a life where he never even glanced down the wrong path. God would not forsake him, who was without sin.
Had his expectation hit the mark? Or was it an answer moved by his fervent prayer?
Immediately, a marvelous event unfolded. From the waves rising high as if to swallow the bow, a dolphin leaped powerfully. In its mouth was a golden, gleaming trident.
The merchant received the trident as if enthralled. By his ear seemed to come the voice of Father God Pontos.
— Swing my spear.
He mustered strength in his right hand and swung the spear shining like the sun. In an instant, the raging waves calmed. He swung the heavy spear once more. Wind rose and the storm clouds dispersed. He could see seagulls flying from afar.
The merchant and the sailors survived by a hair’s breadth and returned to port. Those who beheld the treasure-like trident were engulfed in awe.
“It is the protection of Pontos.”
“The god has bestowed glory upon us.”
He soon became a hero among sailors. Moreover, the tale of the man who received Pontos’s protection spread throughout Poseidonia and became a favorite subject of the bards.
The merchant’s original name is unknown, but his new name was engraved with the meaning “he who brings the glory of the gods,” and he became Diokles.
Furthermore, as if Pontos acknowledged this, he sent a gift of a thousand white cows upon the waves. The mere merchant Diokles seized the greatest glory, just as his name implied.
It was none other than the throne of Poseidonia.
“…So it is written.”
— I can read too, Princess.
The place where she stood was where Diokles’s fleet had been in days of old. The monument erected at the historic site had caught her passing gaze, and Aseuteril, who had been reading the inscription carved on the stone tablet, rolled her eyes and raised her head.
Bukpung could be seen floating about, grumbling about what was so great about the story.
“Yes, I know you can read, but I couldn’t see you reading, so I ended up reading it out loud again without thinking.”
— Being able to read doesn’t mean you have to read everything you see.
“Just as being able to hear doesn’t mean you have to listen to everything?”
— Exactly—no, wait… That’s a bit different. If you can hear, it naturally reaches your ears.
“If you can read letters, they naturally get read. Though of course, one must be enlightened to understand that….”
Bukpung tried to snap back in irritation but grumbled and closed its mouth. Aseuteril’s gentle, enlightening eye-smile was unbearably smug.
— Princess of the Southern Kingdom, you seem to think you are eloquent… But sealing your opponent’s mouth is not true eloquence.
“Yes, the true art of speech is perfectly expressing your desire to seal the opponent’s mouth so completely that you actually seal it shut.”
— Exactly—no, I mean, what?
“I said I have yet to reach that level.”
— Why?
“Because you’re still chattering away on my shoulder like this.”
Though its body had shrunk by dozens of times compared to before, why did it feel like its words had increased by dozens of times? She felt like sewing shut Bukpung’s mouth that kept prattling incessantly by her ear.
“So please, be quiet.”
— They say a wind spirit’s voice is as pleasant to hear as a song.
“Who says that? And why do you talk about yourself as if you’re talking about someone else?”
— It’s called objective narration.
“….”
— I still don’t really know myself. But the bards say it. That my existence is so mysterious, the more you know, the more infinite charm is revealed….
“Bukpung.”
She could not bring herself to tell it to be quiet again.
“You’ve never even met a bard in your life.”
Bukpung cleared its throat and continued.
— I heard the princesses of the Star Palace say that the bards speak so.
“Those princesses have never met you either.”
— What do you mean? We’ve always met. Thanks to you, Princess of the Southern Kingdom, how many times have we been in the same place? We just never conversed. But if they knew that the wind caught on the fig branch was my voice, they too would have composed an ode to the breath of the Northern Heavens.
Aseuteril smiled a fearsome smile, seeming to reach the limits of her patience.
“Yes, but the chances of them learning that wind was your voice are slimmer than this sea turning into a sandy desert. However, there is one thing I know for certain.”
— What? Ah, surely not… You don’t mean you’ve only realized but one of my charms?
“Shut up” had nearly slipped out. Since dealing with Bukpung, she had found herself taking deep breaths often. Aseuteril lowered her eyes and calmly controlled her breathing.
“No. The reason Kalian used to look annoyed at the mere sound of wind. The reason he debated whether to annihilate you immediately after saving you.”
Bukpung’s mouth finally froze like a pillar of salt.
She finally felt she understood why Kalian would often send a gust to mercilessly blow Bukpung to the far ends of the sky. For she too was holding back the urge to call a wind to slam Bukpung into the waters off the harbor.
— Princess of the Southern Kingdom, do you know your expressions and glances are gradually coming to resemble the Lord of Lethe? It’s giving me the creeps.
“Really? I’ve been creeped out since a while ago.”
Aseuteril smiled sweetly, then abruptly glared coldly at Bukpung before walking ahead. Bukpung watched her shoulder with a sullen expression.
The place where the wind had set them down was an old harbor lined with worn-out, dilapidated fishing boats. Old oars floated abandoned on the water. Aseuteril cast a fleeting glance and hurried along the shaded path.
“First, I must meet Lady Tethys.”
Aseuteril took out the three-faced maiden statue given by Leuke and fidgeted with it. A sculpture made of asphodel. It was the only clue currently capable of tracking Asphodelos.
“Lady Tethys said so. That the royal palace of Poseidonia has many scholars who study ancient legends and myths. I heard there is a Royal Library here.”
To meet the princesses, I must first go to the royal palace… but will I truly be able to meet them safely?
Daughters born of the missing queen.
The king was said to have no interest in whether his vanished legitimate wife was dead or alive. Rather, it seemed he wished more that she would never return.
Tethys and Amphitrite, who had fled to Hades, returned empty-handed without a word, and the king must have been displeased by their sudden appearance.
“Because of the time spent away in Hades, not only their backing but even their connections to the high officials and nobles who had stayed by their side would have been completely severed.”
The chances of the princesses’ situation being very poor were high.
That the eldest daughter, born of the legitimate wife, volunteered to go as a hostage to another country implied that her position was precarious enough to feel threatened for her safety within her own nation.
“At least it is fortunate that Lady Melinoe is with them….”
Considering the diplomatic situation and the face of the royal house, as long as Melinoe stays here, they would not harm Tethys and Amphitrite.
She hoped so. Surely the king possesses at least that much common sense and discretion, she thought.
Aseuteril pulled her hood over her head and quickly walked past the bustling taverns and brothels filled with sailors.
The entire city was dark as if shrouded in storm clouds. Moreover, the foul stench stung her nose so badly it felt like her head would split. At first she wondered, “Is it because we’re near the shore?” But looking around, she soon realized that was not the case.
The filthy dirt road she walked on reeked, a mixture of fish stench and all manner of filth seeped into the mud.
The city’s sanitation is a mess.
Then, the sound of a child wailing reached her from somewhere. Inside a broken-wheeled cart stuck in a puddle sat a child who looked to be about two years old, hunched over with bony shoulders exposed. The dirty straw inside was so dreadful one didn’t even want to look through it.
“Get out of the way there, move!”
When a middle-aged man barked in a coarse voice, Aseuteril quickly stepped back. A small cart pulled by a donkey clattered past over the bumpy muddy road. Following the deep, splashing ruts, she could see, far in the distance, the city center with a large dolphin statue standing in the square.
The floor paved with smooth stones was divided into a main road for horses and carts and a sidewalk, and following the colorful five-hued stone path, lined shop fronts and tents displayed all kinds of goods, awaiting passersby.
Agora.
The term for a refined market one could see in the capital of a kingdom. The agora was not merely a place to buy and sell goods, but a social space where various trials and social activities took place.
Especially Triton’s agora was known as a specialty of Poseidonia, with many rare items, exotic merchants, and diverse social gatherings to be seen.
Even in scale alone, it surpassed the combined grain market, fish market, daily necessities market, and other food markets of Side, Demeter’s capital. The slave market, trading slaves and rare beasts brought from across the sea, was always swarming with merchants despite various criticisms and concerns.
Also, in the luxury market where only the wealthy could come and go, expensive spices, high-quality silk, and ivory were sold; its exotic colors were rumored to have recently dyed even the royal palace, leading to major renovations of the palace interior.
Aseuteril approached the crying child and extended her hand.
“Baby, where is your mother?”
The child with a dark, gaunt complexion was so malnourished that her ribs showed in a row. Aseuteril scooped her up and held her, resting the child’s cheek and head against her shoulder.
Her hand faltered.
The forehead was a ball of fire. When she touched the tiny back, it was drenched in cold sweat.
Then, an old woman selling medicinal herbs on a spread blanket across the street clicked her tongue and spoke.
“Has it been about half a month? Her mother, Monera, followed a man who said he worked at the palace. Said he’d introduce her to work. She went gladly, and that was the last anyone heard of her. She cherished her daughter so; no way she’d abandon her… She asked us to watch her for just half a day. But what on earth happened? Ugh. Maybe she fell in a well and died… The poor thing crying for her mother, so we take turns bringing her food, but we can’t take her home and put her to bed. Sleeping on the street like that, it’s no wonder she’s sick. That cart is full of her filth, absolutely. Seems the fever started last night too. Her forehead was burning, and there’s no medicine… Oh, the poor dear.”
Fearing it might be the plague, other merchants kept their distance and wouldn’t come near. Therefore even the food she had managed to get was cut off, and the starving child had been wailing like this all day long.
Aseuteril gazed up the hill. She saw a cart clattering along, loaded with flowers like clouds, following arched columns. Decorative flowers to be used for altars and priests’ adornments.
“What is the temple doing?”
“The temple? Hmph, would those noble priests deign to come down to this neighborhood? They come to the agora in palanquins, take a quick look at the luxury market, and leave with their coffers full. By the way, you don’t seem to be from here, miss? Your accent is peculiar.”
“Ah, I’m from Demeter.”
“No wonder… I heard that in Demeter the temples heal the sick and care for orphans too. Is that true? Unimaginable here. Even imagining it feels empty… Because the king treats the oracle of Delphi like a god, the priests of this country are bending over backward for foreign priestesses. They’re nothing but fools who recite those oracles like parrots before the king. They’re running the very edge of corruption, swallowing up the offerings meant for the priestesses to fill their own bellies. Why in the world are there so many pimps and whores in that temple?”
“….”
“I used to work up on that hill, so I know well. Well, I was beaten with sticks and chased out for not doing as told… Got my leg broken here, became a cripple. Should I just be glad I didn’t die? Still, asking me to sleep with the devotees. What kind of god in this world orders such things, don’t you think?”
Aseuteril glared at the temple atop the cliff with darkened eyes.
“I see.”
She patted the bottom of the child in her arms and stroked her head. The exhausted child slumped as if unconscious. The old woman heaved a sigh with a sorrowful expression, as if thinking the child no longer had any hope.
When Aseuteril rose, the old woman looked puzzled.
“Where are you going?”
“I’ll be right back.”
Aseuteril headed for the agora, carrying the child. At a glance, the market seemed full of vitality. Truly, there was nothing missing from the splendid stalls lined up on both sides, and the tents dyed with colorful dyes delighted the eyes.
But the scenery visible beyond was the true face of Triton. Vagrants, the sick, and homeless orphans gathered in shaded back alleys, hovering over piles of garbage.
Obtaining even rotting food swarming with buzzing flies was a competition. Hands clutching hungry stomachs moved frantically. The grease stuck to the bony knuckles of their hands had turned black, as if scorched by fire.
It was a heart-wrenching sight.
Aseuteril suddenly recalled what Tethys had said in Lethe. Had she said the king wished to invite the Miracle of Kokytos? She felt as though the emotions contained in Tethys’s evasive gaze were unfolding before her eyes.
— Princess of the Southern Kingdom… You’re having strange thoughts again, aren’t you?
“Not yet. I was just about to.”
— Never mind. Let’s hurry to the palace and meet the princesses. We don’t have time to linger here like this.
“For now, even if I go to the palace, there’s a high chance I won’t be able to meet the princesses. We don’t know what their situation is.”
— Can’t meet them? Why? You’re the princess of Demeter. And something like a high priestess too.
“Even if I reveal my identity, they won’t believe me. What princess in this world would walk around alone without guards or attendants?”
— Hmm… You have a point.
“So we have to make them move from that side.”
— What? How?
Aseuteril silently gazed down at the face of the child in her arms. After a moment’s thought, she gently kissed the sweaty forehead of the child.
— What are you doing?
“My specialty.”
— What specialty?
“Did you already forget what my nickname is?”
Nickname? What was the Princess of the Southern Kingdom’s nickname? It was something Kokytos? The… of Kokytos?
— What was it? The… of Kokytos?
“Miracle.”
Ah, right. Bukpung, about to add that it had deleted it from memory because it was so absurd, closed its mouth at the somewhat unusual atmosphere.
Miracle of Kokytos.
With eyes lowered, Aseuteril’s appearance as she kissed the sick child exuded a detached sanctity, as if time itself had stopped in that spot alone. It was no wonder that the attention of nearby merchants and passersby began to focus on her in the bustling market. Everyone paused and looked this way.
“Shhh… Are you alright?”
The child, who had been breathing unevenly and panting, whimpered and opened her eyes. The child raised her head and stared up at her in surprise.
They were sapphire-blue eyes, as blue as the offshore waters of Triton. Her hair, curly and falling down to her eyebrows, was bright blonde at the ends.
Aseuteril smiled quietly.
The child, her lips trembling as if deciding whether to cry, grasped Aseuteril’s chest with a tiny fiddlehead-like hand.
“It’s alright now. Shall we eat something first and wash up?”
“Metione! Meti!”
The old woman, who had been unable to stop worrying, limped after them, shouting the child’s name. Her white eyebrows, like white hair, looked urgent.
“Don’t worry.”
Aseuteril smiled at the panting old woman as if to reassure her.
“She will be alright now.”
“Wha, alright?”
“The fever has broken and her breathing has improved. I think if you give her some water, wash her, and let her sleep, she’ll be fine.”
“Did you give her some medicine? Just now?”
“No. Healing patients with high fevers is my specialty. Though I can’t just recklessly lower anyone’s fever….”
The old woman put on a confused expression. She glanced at Aseuteril with suspicious eyes and gently touched the back of the child’s neck.
The fever really had gone down?
The old woman blinked in surprise. Could a sacred fever subside so easily? She tried to gauge it with all her life’s experience and knowledge, but it was beyond comprehension.
Her expression soon darkened. Memories of losing her mother and younger sister to burning fever surfaced. The sensation of their bodies being balls of fire was still vivid….
Improved immediately without medicine? After collapsing from exhaustion? It would be impossible even if Thalassa, Mother of the Sea, herself came.
In the meantime, Aseuteril set down the child she was carrying and went behind the vegetable shop, pulling back a cloth awning. The children gathered around piles of food waste froze in surprise.
When one of the children coughed, nearby merchants retreated in fear. She saw the shopkeeper across the way quickly pick up a switch made of tied ash branches.
Aseuteril turned the scrawny child’s shoulder and openly pulled her into her embrace.
“It’s alright, come here.”
Tears welled up in the child’s eyes as she panted and warily watched her surroundings.
Contemptuous gazes clung to their backs even as they hid in shady back alleys and curled up like pill bugs. The pain and sorrow of orphans with nowhere to go manifested like tattoos on their gradually withering, shrinking bodies.
The child, unable to speak and sobbing, wrapped her arms around Aseuteril’s neck as if clinging for dear life.
— Why is she doing that?
Bukpung asked, as if puzzled.
— No matter how healthy a person is, if they are alone or unloved, they will rapidly age and wither. This poor child has gone too long without a human touch. For human or beast alike, the love and warmth of family are the greatest medicine and cure….
Aseuteril gently hugged and comforted the sobbing child.
“It’s alright, shhh… Don’t cry. It’s alright now.”
Bukpung couldn’t take its eyes off in astonishment. The body of the child who had lived as a vagrant reeked of a foul stench. Even as a spirit, it made me frown. How can the Princess of the Southern Kingdom hold her so tightly?
“I need clean cloth, drinking water, and warmed water. Could I also get some medicinal herbs? Madam standing there?”
The middle-aged woman leaning against a collapsed awning and watching pointed at her own chin. “Me?” she asked back.
“Yes, you with the bracelet on your right hand. If it’s no trouble, please go get them now. Don’t worry about the cost. I’ll pay you sufficiently.”
Aseuteril also spoke to the man standing beside the cart directly across from her.
“You are the vegetable shop owner, correct? From today, I would like to use this place as a temporary clinic to care for orphans. In exchange for not being able to do business, I will pay the rent every day. Double your usual earnings.”
The vegetable shop owner made a reluctant face. He looked around, hesitated, and nodded.
“You all have families and children you support, don’t you?”
From among the crowd watching, a small voice answered, “Yes.”
“These children are the future of our own children, who could end up like them at any time. Imagine if your own child became an orphan and had to live picking through garbage on the streets like this.”
The atmosphere suddenly grew solemn. The man holding the switch quietly put his hands behind his back.
“How reassuring would it be to have a place where everyone could care for and comfort them together in such times?”
The women’s eyes deepened. The men also seemed shaken, scratching the backs of their necks awkwardly.
Aseuteril drew a soft curve at the corners of her mouth and raised her hand.
“Now then, I need some helping hands… Is there anyone who could help?”
Hesitant hands rose here and there.
“I have bread and fruit left over from this morning’s sales. Is it alright to give them to the children?”
“We have many clothes our children wore at home. Shall I bring them?”
“My father supplies medicinal herbs to the royal palace. There are quite a lot left over after this month’s delivery.”
The merchants of the agora raised their voices, each with brightened faces, offering what they could do to help.
The children gathered around Aseuteril, clutching their hems in fear, wore expressions that said they didn’t understand what was happening.
“It would be good to brew pandan flowers. We have many in our backyard.”
“We need to wash the children first.”
“Let’s go together.”
The vegetable shop transformed into a small clinic in an instant. The display counters once lined with various vegetables were now filled with food for the children, warm water, and clean cloths.
They shook out the canopy to block the sunlight and draped it long; they scrubbed the dirty floor clean, then laid down thick cloth and leather to prepare a place to rest.
Shortly after, Asterille caught her breath and sat astride an empty wooden chair.
“Miss, are you perhaps a physician?”
She did not look like one. The old woman swallowed the remainder of her words and looked Asterille’s attire up and down. It was the finest hemp fabric, densely embroidered with patterns using blue pigment. A precious material one could scarcely glimpse even in the Great Temple.
“Or are you a noble of some kind?”
Though she wore few lavish accessories, the braided bracelet on her wrist and the thin headband wrapped around her forehead were enough to make one swallow hard just by looking. It was delicate craftsmanship one might only rarely see at the most expensive jeweler in the Agora.
It had already been ten years since she had started making ends meet as a street vendor on the roadside, but in her youth she had served as a priestess atop that high hill.
When one dwells in a corrupt temple, though one’s hands may grow dirty, one’s eyes only grow sharper. She had long since acquired the ability to recognize expensive things at a mere glance.
The maiden before her, who said she came from Demeter, looked noble from head to toe, and the old woman thought she must surely be a daughter of a high house.
“I am a high priestess. I devote myself at the Great Temple of Cocytus.”
“Cocy… tus…?”
In Poseidonia, where the temple’s authority had fallen to the ground, tales of foreign lands became the main fare of conversation. Especially if it was a story about mysterious phenomena, everyone would brighten their eyes and prick their ears.
“A priestess of Cocytus?”
At the old woman’s cry, people glanced over and looked this way. She saw a few merchants who had been taking their children to wash making expressions of curiosity.
The Miracle of Cocytus.
Her tale was already famous even in Triton. That in a border city of Demeter where a terrible plague had swept through, there was a healing priestess called the Avatar of Gaia.
Stories ranging from how any patient would rise hale and hearty the next day if she laid her hands on them, to rumors that she possessed the ability to make even the God of Eternal Deep Sleep flee in disgust—there was considerable exaggeration.
“Surely you don’t mean the Great High Priestess of Cocytus, miss?”
“I am the only high priestess there… so I suppose that would be me?”
“Heavens!”
Just then, Bukpung sprinkled a handful of gold powder he had secretly stolen from a jeweler’s shop atop Asterille’s head, then blew—hoo!
The sun, which had poked its head through the clouds, cast faint light upon the earth. The gold powder glittering like a goddess’s crown atop Asterille’s head reflected the sunlight, creating a spectacle truly worth astonishment.
“Goodness!”
“Th-Thalassa…”
People prostrated themselves like sinners and pressed their heads to the ground. Placing the backs of their hands on the earth and palms facing toward the sky was the posture of offering worship to the highest chief god.
Frightened whispering voices were heard.
‘Has She come to punish us?’
‘I thought something was off from the start.’
‘Thalassa is the protector of the elderly and children, isn’t She?’
‘I’ve thrown garbage and brooms to drive the children away… what do I do?’
‘I’ve also wielded a club to scare them…’
‘Please, You must overlook our past conduct…’
Seeing the merchants huddle their bodies and beg for forgiveness, Asterille realized Bukpung’s prank and looked up.
A halo was flashing above her head. She looked as if she wore a crown of golden olive leaves.
Bukpung! Another unnecessary prank…
Asterille’s eyes took on a warning glare. Paying no mind, Bukpung floated about humming a tune, pretending not to notice.
The old woman watching her from the corner also turned deathly pale.
“Miss, truly…”
The old woman clasped her hands with an anxious expression. Her wrinkled hands between age spots trembled.
“Are you a god?”
“…”
“A-Are you an Avatar of Thalassa?”
Or perhaps a messenger of the gods? The old woman took a deep breath and rubbed her chest after asking herself the question.
Asterille let out a hollow laugh.
An Avatar of Thalassa? What absurd twist was this?
The old woman was captivated as if bewitched, losing herself in Asterille’s profile as she sighed thinly.
Look at that enigmatic silence. It was far more holy and noble than the oracle of a priestess, which always invited interpretation and stirred controversy, confusion, and doubt.
Tears welled in the old woman’s eyes.
It felt as if the faith she had buried deep in her heart during her days as a priestess long ago was springing forth again like Ananke’s fountain.
O Thalassa, Mistress of the Sea, Mother of all mercy and devotion in this land… Please bestow glory and blessing upon Triton once more!
Ψ
Four days passed.
Rumors of the temporary clinic Asterille opened spread throughout Triton, and the entire Agora was packed to the brim day and night.
Originally, the Agora controlled entry after nightfall, but the merchant guild had managed to arrange food and alcohol and was holding a festival.
The large braziers installed throughout the Agora were busy all night long. Raucous shadows gathered continuously around the flames as the fires crackled without cease.
“High Priestess! High Priestess Asterille!”
“What is it, Master Ivar?”
A man who had downed a cup brimming with alcohol from a large horn cup walked over with a flushed, smiling face. He had been coming by frequently since the day before yesterday to pester her.
Ivar was a fisherman from a foreign land.
He said his homeland in the north was always covered in white snow, and the snow-capped mountains formed of coniferous trees were so beautiful one could forget to breathe.
Most people living in that barren land led lives far removed from civilization. Pouring alcohol into horn cups and clinking them together in worship to the gods each night was their only joy.
When Ivar first saw Asterille, he had been moved. Having only ever seen shamans from his homeland or corrupt priests from Triton, he felt he was facing a true divine proxy for the first time.
That night, he had confessed in a shy tone ill-suited to the scraggly beard around his lips.
“Lady Asterille, You make my heart race more than Yenaph’s snow, the most beautiful snow-capped mountain in the world.”
Asterille smiled faintly. The dazzling favor of the strange man made a corner of her heart uneasy.
“There is something I am curious about.”
“What is it?”
“What business could the famous priestess of Demeter possibly have coming all the way here beyond the border, with not a single guard or attendant? I wonder whether I should call it brave or reckless…”
“Alone?”
“Did you not come alone?”
“How could I? No matter how much the Goddess watches over me, it would be too much for me to make such a long journey alone.”
Asterille smiled, looking at Bukpung lying atop the canopy and gazing down at them indifferently. Bukpung glanced at Ivar holding the horn cup with an annoyed expression.
Ivar looked around and tilted his head.
“I don’t see any other companions…”
Having circled around her for two days, carefully checking whether there were other companions or any fellows harboring affections and loitering like himself, he found it all the more strange.
“My companion has been right here with me the whole time. Never once taking their eyes off me.”
“Huh? Where? Here?”
Ivar’s eyes went wide. Standing with a puzzled expression, he jumped back with an “Oops!” when water splashed from his drinking cup.
“What the…”
About half the remaining liquid was swirling round and round in the cup.
“Stop messing around, Bukpung.”
When Asterille frowned and warned, Bukpung, who had been puffing fiercely in the air, pouted.
The eyes of Ivar, who had been staring at the horn cup, grew impossibly wide.
It had stopped.
He jerked his head up to look at Asterille. She was smiling with the corners of her eyes raised.
“Lady Asterille? What is this… what, what is it?”
There was no wind entering the tent. Even if there were, it was absurd for the wind to bend and blow only inside the cup.
“My companion has finally greeted you, Master Ivar. Judging by the prank, they seem quite fond of you.”
“A-Are you making fun of me?”
“Additionally, Yenaph’s snow whispers that it is a very sad place. How could you describe it as beautiful when so many maidens’ bodies lie frozen in slumber there?”
Ivar’s eyes hardened. He looked like he wanted to ask how she knew that.
“After all, I am a child born from the land where all the world’s cold and chill are gathered. It says it has been to Yenaph’s snow before as well… isn’t that right, Bukpung?”
Ivar looked around in fright. Suddenly his spine felt chilled, and a coldness seemed to seep into his body.
So that meant invisible supernatural beings surrounded them right now?
He had thought she was joking, but it was too perfect to be one. She could not possibly know about Yenaph’s snow.
The tales of sacrificial offerings to the giant of the snowfield, of maidens submerged beneath the river, were secrets known only to his homeland, unknown even to neighboring tribes across the mountain.
Just then.
“Who gave you permission to open a clinic here as you please!”
A sharp command fell, causing a commotion. Shadows cast by the bonfire stretched long into the tent.
Crackle.
Whether it was the sound of flames or the footsteps of an unwelcome guest.
As if the Dawn Goddess Eos urged her to hurry out and check, the clouds covering the dark blue sky were swept away. Asterille frowned upon seeing the shadow on the ground.
Ivar crouched low and clicked his tongue. He glanced outside and spat.
“It’s the temple men. And a high-ranking one at that.”
Asterille looked toward the inner part of the clinic. The children who had fallen asleep since early evening were fortunately still sleeping soundly.
“I shall go out.”
“Huh? You mustn’t. See that bald, pot-bellied fellow in the deep red robes? That’s Gainas, the High Priest of the temple on the hill. A terrible man. He squeezes every bit of tax revenue from Triton even though he’s not a customs officer. Dozens of people were dragged to the temple as slaves for being unable to pay taxes. I hear he sends them off to other cities or even across the sea.”
“…”
“In any case, please hide here… eh? Lady Asterille? Lady Asterille!”
Asterille, who had stepped outside the clinic, met Gainas’s displeased gaze head-on.
“Who are you?”
He looked Asterille up and down, scratched the mole resembling a praying mantis on his nose, and regarded her with curious eyes.
Asterille stared intently at the single waistband barely supporting his bursting belly fat.
A golden waistband densely connected with square patterns. The symbol of Pontos engraved in the center caught her eye. A sapphire-embedded trident reflected the dim firelight and shone brilliantly.
“You serve the chief god Pontos.”
“Indeed, this is Gainas, the High Priest of the Great Temple atop the hill.”
A man clinging to his side like a shadow shouted the introduction in a loud voice, as if asking if she could not recognize such an obvious thing. Asterille lowered her eyes moderately.
“I see? I too am a priestess. I am called Asterille. I serve Gaia in Cocytus, the religious city of Demeter.”
Silence flowed for a moment.
Perhaps it was because of the strange dignity radiating from her tender yet resolute voice?
Gainas turned to the priest beside him and asked, “Who is that?” and the priest made a foolish expression indicating he did not know.
“I happened to visit Poseidonia on business and saw children wandering around the Agora. The Goddess always commands us to care for the weak and the sick. Thus I opened a temporary free clinic to help as much as I can. I have properly paid the merchants who lent me the space, so there should be no issue.”
“No issue? No, a foreigner arbitrarily opens a clinic in the center of Triton, the capital of Poseidonia, and practices illegal medicine, yet you say there is no issue? Do you not know that in Poseidonia, only licensed physicians may practice medicine or prescribe remedies? And… what? A priestess from Demeter? Pfft, such a fraud might have worked on ignorant merchants in the Agora, but you are excessively bold. Twenty-five or twenty-six at most, yet you claim to be a high priestess rather than a mere priest? You have truly lost your fear.”
“Well… who has lost their fear, I wonder?”
Asterille raised her lowered eyes and looked alternately at Gainas and the priest serving him.
Gainas laughed incredulously. “Ha!” His already thick chin folds pressed down on his wrinkled neck flesh. The emaciated bodies of children with protruding ribs flashed through his mind by contrast.
“Did you just say that to me…?”
“It was indeed addressed to you. I meant that you should recover your lost fear before it is too late.”
Gainas burst into laughter like a madman. His forehead flushed red with rage, and veins bulged.
“You… you little… you must want to die! Yes, you are insane! A madwoman needs a beating. Bind this wench at once! We shall take her to the temple. Tie her up like a dog and drag her away! I shall make her scream in agony.”
The four temple soldiers waiting surrounding the clinic approached grasping ropes. One of them snatched Asterille’s arm and pulled roughly.
Asterille stood straight and warned in a low voice.
“Release this hand.”
“Strike that thing’s cheek! Wake her up properly by alternating both sides!”
The moment the soldier raised his hand after removing his glove, Asterille narrowed her eyes and snatched the young soldier’s hand. Then she carefully examined his fingers.
The soldier hesitated, showing confusion.
“W-what are you…”
“Have you been coughing frequently lately?”
“Excuse me?”
“Any hemoptysis? No?”
“Ah, yes.”
The soldier answered in surprise, unconsciously using honorifics.
“Your index fingernail is severely curved. The middle one too has a blunt tip. I imagine the opposite hand is the same. Do your feet or ankles swell often?”
“Quite often…”
As Asterille’s questions grew serious, the young soldier’s expression steeped in anxiety.
“Fingernails swelling and curving like this means your blood is turbid and your respiratory circulation is poor. Stand up straight.”
The thoroughly tense soldier stood at attention, stiffening his neck.
“Your lungs are cold. Not good.”
Asterille placed her hand on the soldier’s chest and slowly closed her eyes. The soldier flinched and squeezed his eyes shut.
“Th-they say… is it serious? Honestly, lately the coughing won’t stop…”
“Stop talking for a moment and focus on your breathing.”
“Yes.”
The sound of the two taking deep breaths continued. Soon a flush of color rose in the soldier’s previously pale complexion.
The gathered onlookers watched the scene holding their breath. Gainas too was overwhelmed by the atmosphere and watched blankly.
“Keuk-heuk!”
The soldier who had been breathing heavily suddenly put his hand to his mouth and began dry-coughing. “Keuk, keuk!” At the unceasing coughs, people made frightened faces and murmured.
Asterille breathed out deeply and stepped back. Beads of sweat dotted her temples.
“Are you alright?”
“Ah, yes… it stopped now, but…”
Dark red blood clotted with phlegm was smeared on his hand. The soldier began to sob, not knowing what to do.
“My chest felt so hot and then blood came from my throat. Am I going to die now?”
“Why would you die when your body is this warm? You expelled the harmful things, so you will improve. It seems you had lung abscesses; convalesce in a place with fresh air. Acquire and take the medicinal herbs I am about to tell you.”
He nodded vigorously and wiped his eyes.
The merchants watching prostrated themselves on the ground and cried out without anyone taking the lead.
“Th-Thalassa!”
“Mother of the Sea!”
“God of mercy and blessing…”
Asterille rose with an awkward smile. She seemed quite accustomed to such situations, showing no sign of fluster. Rather, she looked down at them with gentle eyes as if embracing them.
Meanwhile, Gainas wore a bewildered expression. A foreboding feeling crawled up his thighs, clenched his gut, and struck his lower abdomen. He was a man who had risen to this position by instinct alone.
Now that he looked again, weren’t the bearing and gaze of this woman called a priestess truly elegant and noble?
Such things could not be acted out. Especially deceiving the eyes of someone like him, who had served royalty and high nobility all his life, was nearly impossible.
He broke out in a cold sweat. He had finally realized something was terribly wrong.
“Gainas.”
“Y-yes?”
“Come here as well.”
“I-I can hear you perfectly well from here.”
As Asterille looked at him with a smile, Gainas took three deep breaths. He puffed his chest out and exhaled, trying to buy time, but she still gazed this way with the same posture and same expression.
With a smile that seemed to say she was barely tolerating him.
“Poseidonia and Demeter exchange information annually regarding rituals and medicine, do they not? I am in charge of the techniques for the Festival of Abundance. If you are truly the High Priest of Poseidonia, you would have seen my name in the exchange letters from the Great Temple of Side every season. It is a pity you did not notice I am a princess of Demeter, but to not even remember my name…”
A sense of loathing was felt even in her tone of pity. Gainas asked in a sour voice.
“P-Princess?”
“The great Anassa Amphta of Demeter is my mother, and my sister Princess Penelope is soon to marry Prince Perius, the rightful heir of Poseidonia. If you do not believe me, send a letter to Demeter to confirm. No, it would be faster to check with the Poseidonian royal family.”
Gainas’s face hardened. No, it was closer to twisting.
“Oh, and I heard Princess Tethys and Princess Amphitrite recently returned from Hades? Together with the princess of Aphrodisias.”
That too was news he heard for the first time. Gainas nudged the priest standing beside him and whispered.
“Check it, quickly.”
“Ah. Yes!”
The priest hurriedly examined the clay tablets he usually carried, comparing them against the bonfire’s light. Tracing the densely written characters with his finger and reading closely, he made a shocked expression. Then he urgently approached Gainas and whispered something with his hand covering his mouth.
Gainas’s nostrils flared and widened. His anxious expression turned corpse-pale in an instant.
Bukpung, sitting atop the priest’s head, listened to their conversation and relayed it to Asterille in real time.
Namely, that the name written in the exchange letters was indeed Asterille; that she was a princess of Demeter and the Great High Priestess of Cocytus; and that since the recent maiden sent from Demeter to Hades was in fact a princess holding the position of Great High Priestess, she too must be Princess Asterille.
Furthermore, that Tethys and Amphitrite being sent to Hades was a matter conducted in secret, and since she knew even that, the information about the two princesses’ return was probably also correct.
Gainas looked at Asterille with a defeated expression.
“I-I have committed… blasphemy.”
He was quick to switch tack. He prostrated himself and raised both hands high.
“I failed to recognize the Princess and committed a great discourtesy. Please show mercy.”
Not content with that alone, he began pounding his forehead on the ground. He was an exceedingly irritating man, fawning to the extreme.
Only after blood flowed profusely from his forehead did he stop, sobbing and wailing.
The sight of the High Priest who lorded over the hill begging for his life was a rare spectacle. Shadows that had gathered before long encircled them like a fence and whispered.
Gainas grabbed Asterille’s hem as if reunited with parents he had been separated from all his life, wearing a wretched expression.
“I should have come to see you sooner, but my steps were slow.”
“Why? To come faster and strike my cheek?”
“Excuse me? Ah, no! How could I dare commit such blasphemy against the Miracle of Cocytus! I shall cut off my wrists the moment I return to the temple. I shall pluck out these accursed eyes that failed to recognize you. This useless wretch! This useless wretch!”
Gainas struck his own cheeks heavily with both hands and wailed. Asterille stared at him at a loss for words. Even the priest attending Gainas looked dumbstruck.
“There is no one in Triton who does not know of the Miracle of Cocytus. Though you are the Great High Priestess of a foreign land, to us priests, Lady Asterille is a dazzling existence like the sun. The King too has wanted to invite you. He has longed to see the Miracle of Cocytus with his own eyes.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, yes, indeed!”
“That is fortunate.”
Gainas raised his head. “Huh?” Asterille was smiling beatifically like a statue of a goddess.
“The Goddess has said: labor without sweat cannot know the joy of harvest. Gainas, for you to strike your own cheeks is meaningless labor, both to me and to yourself.”
They say Demeter’s priests anoint their tongues with honey and milk; it was true. It muddled the mind more than a jar brimming with wine.
“Do you not understand my meaning?”
“I-I am ashamed. This lowly and foolish one is poorly learned and failed to understand. Th-that is, the cheeks… should I not strike them?”
“I am asking if you are prepared to shed sweat for my sake.”
Gainas’s expression cleared as if startled. Her voice, cold as a late autumn wind, seemed to strike his swollen cheeks with force.
“O-of course, what shall I do for you?”
Bribery and coercion were his specialties. Even the priestess of Delphi who delivered oracles had eventually surrendered to his persistent assault, had she not?
Good, things were turning out not badly. If he just gave her what she wanted, this unfortunate situation would resolve without issue.
No, he was truly aggrieved. How could he have imagined she was a princess? It was dark and her attire was not clearly visible; he had thought some crazed woman was spouting nonsense…
In any case, she was no ordinary person. Even the benevolent smile she wore in the darkness felt eerily chilling. It made his bones numb more than when he went to receive an oracle from the priestess of Delphi.
“As soon as dawn breaks, send word to the palace. Say that the Miracle of Cocytus has come here.”
“To the palace?”
A reproachful gaze returned. He could almost hear an irritated voice saying, ‘You make me say everything twice.’ Gainas quickly added.
“I shall wait before the palace gates from before dawn to deliver the message. Please do not wor—”
“Not you—the priest beside you must go. Gainas, you are not going anywhere today. You will stay here with me and keep watch all night, sharing many stories.”
“Excuse me?”
“Let us fill that shallow learning together.”
What in the world did she mean? His pupils dilated as if his soul might flee.
“I have heard that the High Priest of the age is closest to the King, serving as his eyes and ears. Please tell me everything you know about this nation’s state affairs and current situation. Personal opinions are welcome as well.”
Bukpung floated above the two of them with eyes gleaming with interest.
The princess of the southern kingdom would not know. How much she had changed and grown.
Her lover, Callian, was a being called the very symbol of terror among the Ketons. An opponent from whom an ordinary human might lose their soul and go mad with merely a meeting of eyes.
She must have been influenced one way or another. Though she had been a woman of considerable spirit from the beginning, the overwhelming presence she now emanated was certainly as excellent as any Keton.
“Shall we begin?”
Asterille, who had entered the tent, sat across from him with a table between them, clasping her hands and resting her chin on them.
Gainas wiped his head drenched in sweat and let out a hollow laugh. Spending the night with a young woman had never been so frightening and unpleasant.
What in the world does she want?
He was originally a man sharp at calculations, but at this very moment his mind was as dark as if the lights had gone out, and no thought came to him.
The black-haired princess smiled with dimples like a young girl.
Ah, it was going to be a dreadful night.
――To be continued in Volume 4