WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: nemui
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ The Forgotten Curse Knight ◈
Vol. 1 Ch. 4: The Second at the White Table
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Legato was relatively warm throughout the year.
Worg’s mining town lay in southern Legato, making it warm enough by March that fur jackets were no longer necessary.
On one of their only two days off each month, Theo and Allen finished their early-morning training, ate a hearty breakfast, and headed into town.
They called out to a miner sleeping against a wall, drunk. “Morning. Can you make it home?”
They greeted an elderly woman out for a walk. After such small exchanges, the two stopped at the same Press Bread stall they had visited yesterday.
Allen said he was feeling a little hungry, despite having just finished breakfast.
Kagu, the stall owner, flipped over the Press Pan on the fire and opened it.
Steam billowed out, and the smell of baking bread and tomato filling filled Theo’s nose.
He was not hungry, but the scent still left him a little dazed.
Theo liked cooked tomatoes better than raw ones. Why did cooked tomatoes smell so delicious?
“What, you just came by last night, and you’re back already, Allen?”
“I’m still growing. One tomato and cheese, please.”
“Here you go.”
The owner handed Allen the Press Bread with a thick hand, then looked at Theo.
“What about the little one there? Nothing for him?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Allen’s little brother figure, huh? Share a bite with him, Allen.”
Biting into the piping-hot Press Bread, Allen muttered, “...I brought him here yesterday too.”
“Did you?”
Another customer arrived, so Allen stepped away from the stall and looked at Theo.
“Theo, let’s go over by that wall.”
“...Okay.”
They moved away from the stall and leaned against a nearby wall.
With nothing to do, Theo shoved his hands into his pockets and watched the people passing along Scrap Iron Street.
The man in the brown coat had been very grateful when Theo found his lost wallet. The plump woman in an apron ran a bakery. Theo often went shopping there with Olivia. The woman in the red skirt was holding a baby, and the baby had smiled when Theo soothed it.
Theo remembered all of it.
But they did not remember Theo.
The drunken miner he had spoken to that morning. The elderly woman on her walk. Kagu from the Press Bread stall.
They all forgot Theo right away.
Even though they remembered Allen, who was always with him.
(Why is it always me...?)
People Theo saw nearly every day, such as the siblings Marina and Pino, who were close to his age, and Gatto, the mine foreman, did remember him. Still, they often got his name wrong or failed to notice him at all. Whenever Theo spoke to them, they looked at him as if to say, Oh, you were there?
The only people who always called Theo by the right name were the Lawrences.
Theo glanced at Allen.
Tall, with brown hair, kind-looking eyes and brows that both drooped at the corners. That was Allen Lawrence.
Theo lowered his head and touched his trademark braid.
He grew out one lock of hair and braided it as a marker. Every morning, Theo braided it in the hope that people might remember him as the little blond kid with a braid.
“Allen!”
Marina, a black-haired girl with glasses, came running toward them through the crowd. It seemed that her younger brother Pino was not with her today.
Marina looked up at Allen and gave him a shy smile.
“Thank you for yesterday.”
“You’re welcome. How is your father doing?”
“Mom scolded him and said he couldn’t drink anymore... He looked more upset than when he was hurt. Anyway, Mom and I made this.”
Marina held out a small package to Allen. It was probably filled with baked sweets.
Marina looked straight at Allen. Theo was not even in her field of view.
But Theo knew Marina was not doing it to be cruel.
She simply had not noticed that he was there.
“I’m here too!”
Before he realized it, Theo had opened his mouth. He could feel both of them looking at him, but he could not look back at either of them.
“...I’m going to look around the bookstore for a bit. Allen, come later.”
Still looking down, Theo ran off.
He was afraid Marina would look at him as if to say, Oh, you were here too.
* * *
When moving through crowds, Theo probably had to be much more careful than Allen.
Small and easy to overlook, Theo was easily swallowed up by crowds and pushed aside.
So he watched the flow of people and their shifting gazes, slipping through the gaps. It was a survival skill learned by a little kid no one noticed.
He passed through the crowd and turned down an alley, a shortcut to the bookstore. Theo had memorized every road in Worg.
The streets beneath reddish-gray clouds, the hardy people living there, the flowers blooming by the roadside, the smell of Red Coal burning. Theo remembered so much about this town.
And yet, the town did not remember Theo.
(Sometimes, I get scared.)
He would never say it aloud, but Theo was truly terrified.
(What if I do not really exist anywhere?)
Turn down the alley, go straight between the buildings, and the bookstore would be right there.
Just as he thought that, Theo crashed into someone.
He rarely bumped into people, but the building had blocked his view.
As he nearly fell on his backside, he instinctively put out a hand. Pain shot through his palm. Broken liquor bottles were scattered across the ground.
He had tried to brace himself, only to hurt his hand instead.
(I really am an idiot. A complete idiot.)
Theo looked up from where he sat.
A man and a woman in their late twenties stood before him.
One was a man with pale moon-colored blond hair flowing down to his back. He wore a fine cloak.
The other was a woman with dark skin and sand-colored hair. She wore a gray uniform with a distinctive wrap skirt.
In the southern part of the continent lived people derogatorily called barbarians, or Digs. Her appearance closely resembled theirs. However, she did not have a southern accent.
(I’ve never seen that uniform before... They must not be from around here.)
Theo had probably collided with the man. He stood and bowed deeply.
“I’m terribly sorry!”
“No, I should apologize. Are you all right?”
The pale-haired man bent down slightly to meet Theo at eye level. His concerned voice held kindness and sincerity.
When he noticed the blood seeping from Theo’s palm, his violet eyes widened.
“...You’re hurt.”
“Ah, no, it’s only a little...”
“That will not do. Let us treat it properly.”
As the man made the offer, the sand-haired woman cut in.
“El, if we’re treating it, let’s do it at the inn. We need to wash the wound properly first.”
El nodded. “Ah, yes.” Then he looked at Theo.
Theo hurriedly hid his bloodied palm behind his back.
“Um, please don’t worry about it. It was my fault for running out like that...”
“That would be a problem. If a Holy Knight left behind a child they had injured, the Guardian Angel would scold me.”
Theo stared up at the person before him, mouth slightly open.
Beneath the fine cloak, he could glimpse the collar of a white uniform. When people thought of white uniforms, the first thing that came to mind was Holy Knights.
El asked with a sincere expression, “Please, would you let me treat your hand?”
Theo nodded, still with his mouth slightly open.
El smiled, showing white teeth. It was a bright, friendly smile.
“Good. Now the angel will not scold me... Sorry, Beryl. I’ve put our errand aside.”
“It’s fine. You assigned your subordinates to it, right? I understand the captain’s consideration.”
The woman called Beryl spoke casually.
Her words caught in Theo’s mind.
(...Captain? El... Captain...?)
Theo asked in a trembling voice, “Holy Knight Captain... Lord Elbert Randolph?”
The Holy Knight Order had a Commander-in-Chief and five captains beneath them.
One of those captains was a man blessed by God. A handsome man with moon-colored blond hair and violet eyes like the dawn sky.
One of the five captains, second only to the Commander-in-Chief of the Reyel Holy District’s Holy Knight Order. A Paladin, a title held by only four Holy Knights in history. The hero of the Holy Knight Order who had repelled a Great Curse Calamity-class Termea.
The Shining Sword.
“Indeed. I am Elbert Randolph, He Who Offers His Sword to God, the Second at the White Table.”
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