WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: HidingTurtle
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◈ The Wandering Knight and the Moving Castle ◈
Chapter 28: Varda (4)
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Homi looked at him with eyes asking for an explanation.
“I heard about them from my mother. They're attendants and guardians commanded by those who use forest magic.”
Ten dryads stood in formation at the mansion entrance. Whenever the wind blew, green leafy vines that served as their hair fluttered wildly.
‘Should I go in or not?’
As Eugene hesitated, the mansion doors opened and a young elf woman appeared.
Her long blond hair, reaching down to her waist, looked like threads spun from melted gold. Her dignified eyes gleamed like amber made from honey.
“You have worked hard to come all this way. I am Varda, mistress of this mansion. I sincerely welcome your visit.”
It was the same voice he had heard when opening the letter's seal. Yet without the distortion of magic, her voice rose through living, moist vocal cords and was breathtakingly beautiful.
“Please forgive my discourtesy in failing to greet you despite inviting you here. There is someone I must care for, so I could not leave my place.”
Varda bowed her head in apology.
“It's all right. We were a little surprised, but we had no trouble getting here.”
“I trusted that someone carrying such a powerful mystery would overcome it easily.”
The dryads lined up on both sides, creating a welcoming path.
“Come inside. Your journey was not an easy one, so you must wish to rest.”
Varda watched her guests with a composed expression, then disappeared into the mansion.
“Shall we go in?”
When they dismounted at the mansion entrance, the dryads approached.
Neigh!
Snort!
Might and Sandy pressed close to their owners, their brows twitching. Their pleading eyes seemed to say not to leave them with these unfamiliar tree monsters.
That problem was quickly solved by the vegetables the dryads offered them.
Sniff, sniff!
They flared their nostrils at a yellow vegetable that resembled a carrot, then cautiously took a bite.
Snort!
The horses' eyes widened.
Crunch, crunch.
It must have been delicious. All traces of their earlier fear vanished as they busily ate.
The dryads lured the horses away with fruit and led them to a spacious stable. An ivory-coated horse greeted them, its mane fluttering in the air.
Inside the mansion, herbs and fruit hanging from the ceiling caught Eugene's eye.
“This feels familiar. The hut we lived in was similar, wasn't it?”
Homi pricked up her ears and looked around as if searching for Varda.
“It's fine. I know where she is.”
Varda had left behind a trail of magical scent, like breadcrumbs. Homi's nose could not detect it, but Eugene could follow her footsteps.
After turning a corner, they entered a spacious room. A huge dryad lay in a wooden reclining chair, while an elf stood beside her as though nursing her.
“I am Knight Eugene Mayer. I received the letter delivered by the eagle owl and came in answer to the invitation. This is my Squire, Homi.”
“As I introduced myself earlier, I am Varda, mistress of this mansion and the one who invited you.”
The elf placed a hand over her chest in gratitude.
“So the person needing help was the one beside you.”
The small dryads outside were little more than soulless dolls. The large dryad before him, however, had a vivid expression, and Eugene could strongly sense the power of her will.
“This is Grace, my nursemaid. She has almost no strength or time left in her body.”
“I understand why you couldn't leave her side. Family always comes first.”
Homi nodded, her expression completely softened.
“My lady. You could have made a better impression on these honored guests, but because of me...”
Though her body was made of wood, every expression and gesture plainly revealed Grace's affection for Varda.
“I can't remain lying down after receiving guests.”
“You mustn't get up.”
“Hush... It's all right.”
Grace soothed Varda as she tried to stop her, then rose to her feet. She truly was huge. Eugene had to look up at her.
Varda sadly looked at the branches that had broken off and fallen onto the chair.
“Please don't make that face. They are already dead pieces. It means nothing whether they remain attached to my body or fall away.”
“Still, I'm happier when they're part of your body.”
“It has been so long since we had guests. We should treat them with courtesy. They are the ones who shed blood to answer our call.”
She was likely referring to the battle against the bandits at the campsite.
“You knew we fought? We came straight here without resting.”
“The Emerald Forest is both my lady's home and her eyes and ears. She can observe the outside world in many ways.”
Grace pointed to one corner of the room, where several nest-like cradles stood.
“We meet again.”
The eagle owl that had delivered the letter was dozing with an expression that said, ‘I hate daytime.’ Beside it, a goshawk stared at the unfamiliar guests as if asking, ‘What are you looking at?’ A crow pecked at peanuts nearby. Several cradles were empty, likely because their occupants were away on errands.
Through the window the birds used to come and go, the sky darkening into twilight stretched overhead.
Creak.
Small dryads entered carrying vegetables, fruit, and herbs.
“A warm bath has been prepared. How about you relax in it, eat afterward, then we can talk?”
“Very well.”
Eugene had fought since dawn, then come here without rest, so he felt grimy. The chance to wash and catch his breath was more than welcome.
* * *
As befitted a home of elves and dryads, even the bathhouse was made of solid wood. There were no rotten or moss-covered spots, and it carried a pleasant scent.
It was much smaller than the stone bathhouse at Bonyard City's guest mansion, but it possessed a coziness and freshness that place lacked.
By the time they finished bathing, darkness had fallen outside.
“It is not much, but please eat your fill.”
“This is a magnificent feast.”
Varda's table was covered with assorted fruit, vegetables, biscuits, and honey.
Sizzle.
The main dish was a thick cut of meat, its surface crackling with oil. Judging by its color, it had been seasoned with at least six different spices.
“A proper steak.”
“I like meat. Even when I cook a single piece, I try to make it delicious.”
“I have to nag my lady constantly to eat vegetables as well.”
“Grace.”
Varda shot Grace a look, but soon relaxed. She seemed to enjoy the lively mood of the meal.
Crunch!
Without cutting it, Homi stabbed a large chunk of meat with her fork and took a huge bite. She chewed with a blissful expression.
Watching her fondly, Varda placed a sliced piece of meat into her mouth.
‘What should I say? Her way of eating is disciplined in a different way from a soldier's.’
Varda ate with such refinement that it felt like watching a tea ceremony.
“The meat is purchased from villages that have received my lady's grace.”
“The Bonyard City envoys would have been better off waiting at the village butcheries instead of wandering through the forest.”
Grace laughed at Eugene's joke. Perhaps because she was such a large dryad, even her laughter came with the faint sound of branches moving.
After the meal, the small dryads cleared away the dishes and served tea. Then they began discussing the real matter at hand.
“As you can see, the life of my beloved nursemaid, Grace, is coming to an end. Strictly speaking, it has already ended, and I am forcibly prolonging it.”
Varda stroked Grace's dry, rotting arm.
“Even after drawing upon every bit of forest knowledge I possess, I could not restore her vitality. She only continues to weaken.”
Varda's golden eyes turned to Eugene.
“But knight, perhaps the blessing prayer you performed in that remote village will be different.”
“It was for a Dhampir who had weakened while imprisoned. I infused field mouse blood with a blessing and had her drink it.”
Varda nodded as if she had expected that answer.
“How did you know? Even Homi, who was nearby, didn't know until I told her.”
“My ears are special. Through the wind in the night sky and falling leaves, I can overhear magic from some distance away.”
“That's incredible.”
As expected of an elf. Her ears were not long just for show. Since she was also a mage, they must have been even more extraordinary.
“I was only fortunate. It was possible because this mansion is so full of the power of the forest and magic. I would not have heard it while outside.”
“My lady often left the forest to seek a way to save me.”
That was why a forest mage, whose magical research barely required leaving the forest, frequently went out into the world.
“After that, my friends in the sky brought me news. They said a mighty warrior was traveling along roads that were always empty through the villages.”
Eugene thought of the eagle owl, goshawk, and crows.
“You defeated a Warg with ease and even achieved the feat of a Victor Knight. I judged that you must be the benefactor I had been seeking.”
“Couldn't I have simply been a knight with nothing but brute strength? The person who performed the blessing prayer might have been someone else.”
Varda shook her head.
“Your prodigious strength exceeds what muscles alone can achieve. I believe it touches the realm of mystery in some form. If so, that prayer must also have been your work. I have never heard of a blessing so powerful.”
Eugene was glad he had accepted this invitation. The elf before him was someone who could teach him many things he did not know and discuss them with him.
A small dryad approached while holding up a green cloth in both hands. Resting on it was a longsword in an antique scabbard.
“A gift for an honored guest.”
“It is too early to receive a gift. I haven't done anything yet.”
“It does not matter. It became yours the moment you decided to accept my invitation.”
“Then I will gladly accept it.”
As a knight, Eugene calmed his excited heart and picked up the scabbard.
“Oh!”
The moment he grasped it, he could tell it was a fine sword with perfect balance.
“May I draw it?”
“Of course. Make yourself at home.”
Shing.
The edge of the silver blade was sharp enough to make his skin prickle just from looking at it.
“It is a sword handed down since the days of Luiamour.”
“Luiamour! The first unifying dynasty?”
It was an impossibly ancient relic. He had not expected to gain such a treasure just from traveling here.
“A great sword must write a great epic. That sword has slept for far too long. Now that it has entered the hands of a worthy warrior, the sword itself must be pleased.”
When people spoke of the greatest blacksmiths, they often thought of dwarves, but that belief was based on a misunderstanding.
Dwarves were certainly skilled in every aspect of smithing. Their engineering was also unmatched when it came to mechanical devices such as pulleys and siege weapons.
Yet whenever people spoke of legendary weapons, shields, or armor, they were always creations of elven artisans.
Most arms and armor regarded as sacred relics by great noble houses had been made during the age of Luiamour.
Great noble houses that treated dwarven-made arms and armor as sacred relics were quietly looked down upon as lacking proper pedigree, so no further explanation was needed.
“What does it say?”
Eugene pointed to the Elven script engraved near the base of the blade.
“Last Autumn.”
Varda gazed quietly at the sword.
“That is a poetic name for a sword.”
“Perhaps. But it suits that sword better than anything. It was forged by the last royal family at the end of Luiamour's age.”
Clatter.
A withered branch fell from Grace's collarbone. Everyone's gaze fell on the dead fragment rolling across the floor.
Eugene's smile, which had risen at the sight of the fine sword, faded.
“Joy can wait. We should deal with the urgent matter first.”
“Thank you.”
Eugene carefully examined Grace's body. Because he could see and sense mysteries, he could understand the dryad's current condition.
“It will not be easy.”
Eugene's expression hardened.
“The Dhampir I gave blood to was still within her natural lifespan. The blessing only gave her vitality. But Grace...”
“My branches are already dead, and no sap flows through my body. For a person, it would be like their blood stopping and their muscles rotting away. What use is even the finest medicine for a body that cannot accept nourishment?”
Grace spoke gently, as if she understood what he meant. In this place, Varda was the only one insisting.
“Even so, I want to try. I do not want to regret losing her after doing nothing.”
“I feel the same. Success or failure aside, we must make the effort. That is what family does.”
For the first time, Varda smiled at Eugene.
“...”
She looked like the first rays of dawn driving away the darkness. Even Eugene, who thought saving Grace would be impossible, felt a moment of hope.
“Then I will begin.”
When Eugene rose, the others stood as well.
After a brief preparation, Grace sat on a sofa in the living room. Eugene knelt before her, while Varda and Homi watched from a short distance away.
The Eucharist for a dryad facing death began.
A mighty blessing that only an ancient pope might have been capable of. Unknown vitality, thick enough to feel almost sticky, crawled in from beyond the world.
Footnotes:
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