EP.78 Things Regained
Having barely managed to calm the Dog King, Tirkanjaka helped the collapsed man up and headed to the dining hall.
Even as he trod upon the ground, he did not cry out or even so much as frown. He simply followed Tirkanjaka with unfocused eyes, moving slowly.
“Are you all right?”
Nod.
He gave a small nod. But that was all; he made no further answer or response.
Tirkanjaka murmured with a worried expression.
“He seems to hear sounds and understand words… but it’s as if he’s become an imbecile.”
Still there was no response. Tirkanjaka could only feel pity.
This was the man who always maintained a cheerful demeanor and had spoken even of trivial matters with the fluency of a flowing stream. To be reduced to this—surely, had he not been robbed of everything?
“Let us go to the dining hall first. If there is something there, it will appear soon enough.”
Even if it did not appear. Even if he spent his whole life as an imbecile, it would be fine. For Tirkanjaka intended to take responsibility for him.
He was Tirkanjaka’s benefactor; and patience bred over eons was not something to vanish simply because a heart began to beat again.
“The dining hall… it should be near the training room on the 4th floor.”
As Tirkanjaka guided the coffin with Blood Manipulation Art, she briefly frowned. Normally, the moment she exerted her will, the coffin would move smoothly like her own body, but since her heart had started beating, there was a subtle resistance when handling things outside her body.
It was not that manipulation had become difficult. Only that she now felt a faint sense of weight.
To draw an analogy, perhaps it was like the difference between moving one’s hand and moving a bag held in that hand.
“Perhaps it is because I have regained my heart. The Blood Manipulation Art does not move as I wish.”
It was the juniper coffin she had been with for nearly a thousand years.
It had been Tirkanjaka’s bed, her nest, as good as her own limbs—and now it behaved stiffly like a child grown independent, leaving her with a trace of wistfulness.
Yet when she recalled the thumping of her chest and the warmth of the one seated beside her, even that wistfulness briefly blurred.
“Yes. If one gains something, there must be something lost as well.”
Trying to hold everything in the world could push aside a small, precious thing that must never be forgotten, causing it to fall away. Tirkanjaka decided to think of it as the price for gaining emotion.
The coffin bearing the two side by side rose smoothly. Reaching the 4th floor in an instant, they soon arrived at the dining hall.
In one corner sat a simple table and four chairs, seemingly provided as a matter of duty, while one large pot and about five smaller pots were arranged on a shelf in order of size. The narrow space was tidily organized, with a lived-in feel as if someone had looked after it with care.
As Tirkanjaka looked around the dining hall, she murmured.
“This is my first time in the dining hall… Indeed, I had no reason to come here before.”
What a vampire takes is blood alone. Thus, Tirkanjaka had never visited the dining hall until now. The blood loss of someone had always been a vampire’s sustenance.
That much remained the same now, but Tirkanjaka had one more mouth to look after.
Tirkanjaka helped him into a chair, then glanced about.
“They say even sightseeing comes after a meal. He has starved for three days and must be very hungry, so let us eat something first.”
Thus about to cook, Tirkanjaka realized anew that she knew nothing.
It was a body that had required no food itself. There was no way she would remember the cooking she had done over 1200 years ago. Only the common sense that putting ingredients in water and boiling them made roughly a stew remained.
“…First, I had best look for ingredients.”
As Tirkanjaka poked around, she discovered a high cupboard. She succeeded in opening the cupboard on tiptoe, but with Tirkanjaka’s height, only the lowest shelf barely came into view.
The lower shelf held only items like cups and plates. Tirkanjaka levitated her body and headed toward a higher shelf.
On the middle shelf, leftover oil and half-used ingredients were neatly stored. Tirkanjaka tucked that memory away and cast her gaze even higher.
What she saw upon reaching the highest shelf was—
A small golem, bound and squirming.
“Hmm?”
The golem’s posture was bizarre. No, to call it merely bizarre—it was a sight that felt full of malice and mischief.
The golem, as if dreaming the dreams of an organic being, was seated with its legs spread wide at 180 degrees, its rump pressed down. As though performing yoga.
But looking closely, it was clear this was not voluntary: its ankles were tightly bound with wire, so that even if it wished to draw them together, it could not.
In a spot just barely out of reach of the golem’s hands, the speaker removed from its mouth sat conspicuously. The golem, its legs bound, was desperately stretching its arms to retrieve the speaker but could not reach it at all.
Whoever had designed this had calculated the distance exquisitely.
It was a posture a little too light to be called torture, yet too heavy to be a mere prank—perfectly suited to driving someone out of their mind.
Watching the golem struggle piteously, Tirkanjaka murmured.
“Is that not the toy golem I saw last time?”
Noticing Tirkanjaka’s gaze, the golem waved both arms frantically. Lacking its speaker, it made no sound, but anyone could see it was a plea for rescue.
“You wish me to untie you?”
Nod nod.
Without its speaker, the golem agreed with all the more fervent gestures.
Tirkanjaka unfastened the wire binding the golem. The golem very slowly, carefully drew its splayed legs together, then clutched its thighs with both arms and rolled on the ground for a moment. It seemed to be writhing in pain.
Before long, the golem rose again and attached the speaker near its mouth. From the reattached speaker, voices trickled out intermittently as if malfunctioning.
“That blasted… XX has finally overstepped…! This is rebellion…!”
Crackling static mixed with something between language and profanity; the golem, barely calming down, gave a small clearing of its throat and faced Tirkanjaka.
“…Thank you for your cooperation. Progenitor Tirkanjaka. Though presumptuous in these circumstances, this office requests your cooperation.”
“I had something to ask as well. I will hear your request first. Let us exchange one each.”
Tirkanjaka proposed leisurely.
“I shall respond only to the extent that this office can speak of the matter.”
“Is that not only natural? I too shall remain silent in the face of questions difficult to answer. How could one voice secret matters aloud, and even if spoken, how could one distinguish truth from falsehood?”
“A foolish question from me. I accept. Then this office will ask first.”
The golem clenched its fist and raised its head. Though no emotion could possibly be felt from its rigid body, Tirkanjaka somehow sensed that the golem was suppressing a fury beyond compare.
At last, the golem spat out its words.
“Where is that man?”
“That man?”
If it was someone the golem would refer to like that, there could be no other. Tirkanjaka understood at once, and precisely because of that, she trailed off awkwardly.
“If you mean that instructor sent by you people, well… that is, I… there has been a slight problem.”
“Is it something you cannot answer?”
“Not exactly. For now, he is here. However…”
One could say, leaving out the context, that he lost his memory while trying to return Tirkanjaka’s lost heart.
But would that not be terribly irresponsible?
They had called him an instructor. Considering his boundless abilities, he must have been a fine talent meant to shoulder the future of the nation called the Military State. To have broken such an existence—Tirkanjaka had, in effect, caused great harm to the Military State as well.
Thinking so, she realized she had indeed brought trouble to many. Tirkanjaka felt a renewed sense of guilt.
“There is much to discuss. Might I speak briefly with a representative of your Military State?”
To offer compensation for injuring him, and to be entrusted with his care, she would need to negotiate with the Military State. It was with that thought she spoke, but—
“Has that reactionary caused some incident?”
The response was so unexpected that Tirkanjaka blinked.
“Reactionary… you say?”
“Affirmative! I mean that reactionary who restrained this unit!”
The golem answered in a voice higher than usual.
Perhaps it was because she could feel emotions again. Tirkanjaka noticed that she was now better at discerning the feelings carried in a voice than before.
The Progenitor, having regained her emotions, felt interest in the unfamiliar sensation and focused on the golem’s words.
“This office has a duty to observe the interior of Tantalos! Yet he, who is nothing more than a mere laborer, has obstructed this office’s mission! This constitutes interfering with the official duties of a Level 5 security facility, and depending on the degree, it is recognized as at least a Level 4 crime! Moreover, he has already committed a crime once and received a labor sentence, so this time there will be no minimum grace period whatsoever!!”
Restrained the golem and fled. Obstructed official duties and committed a crime.
He had committed a crime once before? Did that mean he had fallen out of favor with the Military State?
Unconsciously, Tirkanjaka defended him.
“Do not be so angry. A sovereign ought to respect a commander’s judgment. Surely he had some profound intent.”
“I can declare there is nothing of the sort. In the first place, this is no battleground, and he is not even a commander!”
“Did your nation not send him here—as the lord of this domain? If he is a knight entrusted with a domain, he can be called a commander…”
“Denied! He is neither knight nor even a steward! Strictly speaking, a being below even a slave!”
However much that might be, is it not too harsh to treat someone loyal to the nation as a slave?
And to dare call him—him—a slave…
Tirkanjaka, half intending to admonish and half filled with a fury she did not quite understand, was about to scold the golem.
“Because he—though hidden from you and others—is in fact a criminal sentenced to penal labor in Tantalos!”
Had the golem not delivered this unexpected truth, she surely would have voiced it aloud.