Goblin Slayer - Volume 7 - Chapter 8

Chapter 8 – A Midsummer Night’s Dream

“Now then, I request both of you to speak the words of the covenant,” intoned an elf with his head bowed somberly before a dais. He was an elven elder, many long years old and yet still young.

Fireflies or some such luminescent insect floated around, providing light for the great hall full of elves and adventurers. They sat cross-legged on the ground. Food and fruits were served on leaf-plates, wine in large nuts. The dais the crowd focused on was actually an upraised tree root.

Upon it stood the bride and groom, dressed in garments of sheer silk and flowers, shimmering with the wings of butterflies and dragonflies. They shared a shy glance then gently took each other’s hands.

“Usamiakitowotoku    riinomochinneie    inoyurunahowo chihionokahisatawa!” the elf with the shining helmet said proudly.

His bride replied, looking at the ground and blushing, “Usamiakitowotoku oshiroyuinawoto isototowo chihonokahisatawa.”

Their words, almost musical, drifted up to the great tree, which shook its branches in response, leaves hovering in the night.

Fssh, fssh. The forest was laughing. The trees were singing. May your lives be blessed. May the span of your days be full of happiness.

“You have heard the jubilation of the forest?” the priest asked, stepping forward gracefully. The man and the woman looked at each other happily and nodded.

“Mm.”

“Yes, we did.”

“Then offer the response.” The priest passed them a large bow and an arrow. The bow was of yew wood and the arrow bud-tipped, made especially for this day. The elf with the shining headpiece took the bow, and the princess with the flower crown the arrow.

The priest bowed deeply and retreated; the two elves drew near to each other, almost in an embrace, and readied the bow.

The wife nocked the arrow into the bow the husband held up, and then together, they drew the string.

They aimed at the heavens, at the night sky where the moons and stars glittered.

The leaves that formed the ceiling of the hall, everyone saw, had opened the path in one spot, a small passage. Beyond, the night sky flashed and twinkled like a box of jewels. If the stars were indeed the eyes of the gods, there could be no greater blessing in all the world.

The arrow flew from the bowstring with a musical twang. The bud-tipped arrow shot into the sky like a shooting star in reverse, and they didn’t see it come down.

Wherever the arrow landed, a new tree would emerge, and grow, one day to become a member of the forest.

“The covenant is hereby completed!” the priest announced.

The forest, and the people of the forest, and the gods had all together acknowledged this marriage and blessed it.

“This eve shall be long remembered as the Night of the Rainbow-Clad Moon!”

The whole crowd of elves broke out in cheering and applause.

Love is destiny                               destiny is death

Even a knight who serves a maiden           will one day fall into death’s clutches

Even the prince who befriends a Sky Drake  must leave the woman he fancies behind

The mercenary who loved a cleric           will fall in battle pursuing his dream

And the king who loved the shrine maiden   controls all but the hour of their separation

The end of life                               is not the last chapter of an heroic saga

So the adventure called life               will continue to the very end

Friendship and love                           life and death

From these things                           we cannot escape

Therefore what have we                       to fear

Love is destiny                               and our destiny is death

Then the elves produced harps and drums, and everyone took up a lively song.

The people of the forest have always loved music and dancing, and they enjoy whatever is pleasant. Their lives are too long to simply kill time to pass the days. They may be old of heart, they may take the very long view, but many are the days on the elf calendar that serve as a pretext for celebration.

A wedding was a perfect example: they celebrated both the union of two young elves, and the fact that there would be one less day with nothing happening.

What day is there in this world that is not special? All people were special; this night was special. A hundred years from now, it would still be special and would remain so for all eternity.

Even Dwarf Shaman was surrounded by young (albeit all older than him) elves.

“So what did you do when you fell into the goblins’ trap?”

“Er, ahem. Well, me and Long-Ears—I mean, the princess there, we ginned up this hole full of poison gas…”

“This indescribable eyeball monster sounds positively terrifying!”

“Well, ah, you know. It was more…well, strange. And it made a very odd noise.”

“It sounds like our princess has been real trouble for you. I’m so—” “Oh— Oh, don’t be. Look, she certainly has her moments…”

These youngsters were well aware of the ancient antagonism between their people and the dwarves, but more than likely, this was the first time any of them had ever seen a dwarf up close. Let alone an adventuring one!

Surrounded by elves on every side, Dwarf Shaman’s head was practically spinning as he was pelted with requests for stories of adventure and more besides. And the wine the elves served was too weak for him; he couldn’t even get properly drunk on it. At last, he raised his stubby arms and shouted, “Heyyy, Scaly! Give me a hand over here!”

And what was Lizard Priest up to when Dwarf Shaman summoned him? He was in a corner of the banquet hall, smacking his lips delightedly. He wolfed down some steamed insects, chugged wine by the cupful, and as soon as he held an orange in his hand, it vanished wholesale into his mouth.

A crowd of elfwives stood watching him eat with astonishment.

“Come now,” Lizard Priest said. “I’m no herbivore, but I’m happy to eat whatever—ah, what seems to be the matter, master spell caster?”

“I can’t handle this many of ’em all by my lonesome!”

“Well, then.” Lizard Priest heaved himself to his feet and shuffled his way among the elves to reinforce his companion. He plopped down in the circle with the elves and the dwarf and announced, “Say, my forest friends. Perhaps you’d like to hear the tale of the lizard hero, a creature with great black scales who could summon storms.”

“Oh yeah, I know him!” one of the somewhat older elves said, raising a hand. “I’ve met him.”

Lizard Priest rolled his eyes. “Ha-ha-ha-ha. Then you will enjoy learning the differences between the history of a thousand and a hundred years ago, and the legend that has been told since then.”

Just when the first drop fell on the first leaf, to declare the coming of the season of rain

King Jigagei Urogilv, King Red Cloud, and Maaka Waata, Sweet Wind, were joined

After the laying of their egg, the pleasure-woman Hehaka Saba, Black Deer, became with child

The child of destiny, who would be abandoned, who would crawl from a shattered shell

With scales of shadow: one day to breathe blue flame; a child of destiny, to be revered by even his brother naga

The name of he who would one day sink his teeth into the throat of the Demon Lord was Ehena Ulno, Stormbringer…

The elves oohed and ahhed at the unique way lizardmen sang, with the voice rumbling from deep in the throat. Even the new couple upon the dais were impressed, though they were more restrained in their appreciation than the others. The groom was holding the hand of the bride, and she was looking at the ground, red up to her ears.

“Man, Sis is actually embarrassed!” High Elf Archer laughed from her place beside a knot that got plenty of night breeze. Slim and pale, she was clad in a sparkling dress of translucent white cloth. Silk, perhaps. Elves were experts when it came to the handling of insects.

Smiling, a wine cup in her hand and the night breeze caressing her hair, she almost seemed to be floating. Goblin Slayer had heard a word, wallflower, that he thought was somehow appropriate for her.

“Don’t you want to join them?” he asked, coming over to her from the banquet.

“Hmm?”

This was the same elf who had exploded at the elders the moment she got home while demanding to know why they hadn’t told her. Now, with a flush of alcohol in her cheeks and a quizzical look on her face, she seemed an entirely different person.

Goblin Slayer’s mind flashed to the fairy stories he’d heard as a child as he continued, “…This is your home.”

High Elf Archer seemed to catch his meaning. “Aww, it’s fine, really,” she said with a wave of her hand, taking a demure sip of her wine. “For us… To put it in human terms, it’s like I was only away for a few days.”

“Is that so?”

“Besides, Sis promised to write me a letter when things settle down.” Wouldn’t want to intrude on the happy young couple, right? High Elf Archer puffed out her modest chest almost boastfully.

Come to think of it.

A scene from the water town flashed through her mind. She remembered him writing a letter.

“How about you write a letter yourself?” she said thoughtfully. This man never went anywhere but the farm and the Guild and various caves, always muttering about goblins. “You never go home, do you?”

“I can’t imagine anyone would read it.” He almost sounded like he was laughing. The helmet turned gently left and right. “…I’m not a very good younger brother. Not me.”

“You really think so?” High Elf Archer arched an eyebrow then made a circle in the air with one white finger. “I think you’re doing well, you know? I mean, you made Silver, didn’t you?”

“Is that so?” Goblin Slayer repeated then nodded. “Is that so…?”

“You really need to expand your vocabulary, Orcbolg,” High Elf Archer giggled. Then she stepped away from the window with a movement like she was dancing.

“You’re going?”

“Girls have their own pleasures.” “I…,” Goblin Slayer whispered.

High Elf Archer stopped when she heard him. She looked back questioningly, but Goblin Slayer stood silently by himself.

She decided to wait. Elves had nothing but time.

After a moment, he seemed to have finally found the words. “I am glad your sister was able to marry.”

They were the flattest, most unremarkable, most disinterested words of congratulations she’d ever heard. Yet High Elf Archer’s eyes widened and her ears flicked.

“…Thanks.”

She found herself feeling oddly embarrassed and rushed toward the bustle of the party. She had never expected Orcbolg to say such a thing. She didn’t think he was capable of it.

Her footsteps felt lighter than air, but her sharp eyes would never miss her quarry.

She reached out her arm with an agility only an elf possessed, entwining it with another slim limb.

“Oh…”

It was the arm of Priestess, who had been leaning vacantly against the wall. The elves had offered her a dress and clothing, but she had refused, saying her vestments were her proper attire.

“C’mon, what’s the matter? You look unhappy.”

“No…,” Priestess said, glancing down, her face drawn. “Not… Not really.”

“You’re a terrible liar.” “Aww…”

An instant later, High Elf Archer’s finger was an inch from Priestess’s nose. “Look, better to talk about anything at all than to keep everything bottled up inside. This is a time for celebration.”

“Um…” Priestess felt tears beading at the corners of her eyes as she focused on that finger just in front of her nose. “Okay… That prayer earlier… what did it mean?”

“Oh, that?” High Elf Archer laughed. “Nothing really important. Just a promise to be together always.”

I take this person to wife and vow to be with her into eternity.

I take this person as my husband and vow to cleave to him forever.

“’Course, that’s ‘always’ in elf terms.” High Elf Archer winked then tugged on Priestess’s sleeve. “Hey, say a prayer.”

“A prayer? Me?”

“Yeah. To your Earth Mother. We elves owe her something, too, you know.”

The very request pained Priestess.

I…

Was she even still fit to pray to the goddess? She had offered supplication at every moment since her youngest days, and even in her battles with goblins, she had stopped short of crossing that final line.

But at the fortress, she had finally done it: she had used a miracle of the Earth Mother to directly harm another being.

It had been a goblin, of course. One of the little devils. She knew full well what would have happened to her if the creature hadn’t been defeated.

She had taken life indirectly before. Why should she regret killing now?

But that… It wasn’t right…

Thus, why the Earth Mother had become angry and had rebuked Priestess. “…Okay.” Priestess bit her lip so hard she drew blood, but she clutched her sounding staff and knelt.

Even if I’m no longer worthy of love…

Even then, she dearly hoped her prayer for the happiness of her friends who were here, the happiness of her friend’s sister, and that sister’s spouse, would nonetheless be heard. A selfish wish it was, she knew. But nonetheless…

She closed her eyes and began to pray. “O Earth Mother, abounding in mercy, by your revered hand may all their paths bear good fruit…”

Then she let out a soft “Oh” of surprise. Her soul, connected to the gods in heaven, felt a vast, warm hand upon it, comforting it.

The sensation only lasted for instant, not even as long as when she prayed for a miracle, but she hadn’t imagined it. For a second, Priestess looked startled and confused, but her face soon split into a smile.

“My prayer reached the goddess…” “Great! So Sis is all covered.”

“She sure is,” Priestess replied, then she rubbed her eyes with her sleeve. “Okay then, let’s go!”

“Huh? Ah— Wha…?!” Priestess found High Elf Archer had a grip on her sleeve once more, but this time she was dragging her off somewhere. “Wh- what’s the matter?”

“You’ll know it when you see it… Oh, there they are. Hey, you two, c’mon over here!”

Apologizing and bowing her head quickly as she stepped around and over food, Priestess followed behind High Elf Archer.

Priestess didn’t know how she had done it amid the crowd and cacophony of the banquet, but she had managed to find Guild Girl and Cow Girl, both dressed to the nines. Each was wearing one of the light dresses the elves had prepared, and (perhaps thanks to the wine) they seemed to be in high spirits.

They were wearing almost the same dress as High Elf Archer, but it only served to highlight how much more well-endowed they were than she. That brought a moment of annoyance to the archer’s face, but she was soon smiling again. Give it a century or so, and she would be just like her older sister—probably. She hoped.

“Gosh, this is all making me pretty nervous. I’ve never been to a party like this before…” Cow Girl scratched her cheek, feeling shy.

“Just fake it till you make it,” Guild Girl calmly advised her. She tipped her cup toward the other woman as if to say there was nothing to be ashamed of with those proportions.

“Well, look who’s a social butterfly,” High Elf Archer said, impressed, receiving a pointed laugh from Guild Girl in return.

“I learned manners at home,” she said. “And public servants have to deal with functions like this sometimes, too.”

“Huh,” High Elf Archer said then took Cow Girl’s and Guild Girl’s hands. “Well, whatever. Let’s head up to the front, girls!”

Then she practically dragged them, farther and farther forward, toward the dais. The three women behind her struggled to keep up and remain halfway dignified.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Cow Girl asked.

“It’s something the men don’t have anything to do w… Well, maybe a little something. Anyway, just wait and see.”

Cow Girl glanced around and found that all the elf women were similarly making their way to the front of the room. She had no idea how old any of them were, of course, but they all looked just about High Elf Archer’s age.

“Ahh,” Guild Girl said, the pieces falling into place. “A parting gift from the bride?”

“Oh, I know that tradition,” Priestess said as she struggled to straighten out her clothing, even as she was pulled along. “They say the person who catches it will be the next to get married… I think. I’ve helped with the occasional ceremony.”

“There are some customs everyone shares,” High Elf Archer said with a knowing look and twitched her ears. “If we have a chance to get it, why not take it?”

“Wow…,” Cow Girl breathed.

Marriage…

The idea seemed so far removed from her and yet not really that far at all.

Cow Girl looked up at the joyful bride on the dais, squinting as if the woman emitted a blinding light.

All around Cow Girl, excited elf girls waited eagerly.

Then, finally, she looked over to the far wall, where a man in slightly odd armor was standing.

A little giggle escaped her, and she noticed her heart was pounding for some reason. Her eyes met Guild Girl’s, and the other woman was wearing the same expression.

Cow Girl shrugged. Better do things the fair way.

There, just in front of her, she could see the priestess, who was interested but unable to take that step. Cow Girl reached out and touched Priestess’s back. When the girl looked back at her, surprised, Cow Girl gave a friendly wave.

“Times like this, you just have to go for it,” she said. “Oh, uh, r-right!”

The flower-crowned princess of the forest—no, by now, she was queen, a woman who had become a wife—rose to her feet.

“Love is destiny, and our destiny is death,” she said melodically, and then, holding her husband’s hand, she pulled the colorful crown of flowers from her head. She hugged it to her generous bosom and recited, “So let the next love and romance be unto these maidens who shall die!”

With that prayer, she tossed the crown into the air, and the night wind carried it.

The crown was the bond between love and romance. The bequest of a jubilant bride.

It made a perfect arc through the air, coming down among the young women…

There was a great cheer.

§

Three days and three nights of celebration later, the adventurers returned to the frontier town.

Although quite a bit of time had passed since then, High Elf Archer had still received no letter.

That had to mean the elves were still celebrating to this day……