ACT 4
“So, today marks five years since the Battle of Megiddo, huh? Man, time sure flies,” Nozomu mused to himself, sitting in the captain’s cabin of the Iarnvidr Trading Company’s flagship galleon, Noah. So much had happened since then—lots of good things, of course, but a fair amount of hardships as well. Even so, they were all valuable experiences for Nozomu. That said, none of them were quite so precious and fulfilling as the birth of his child with Ephelia.
“I’d like to think I’ve grown up at least a bit since then, but I’ve still got a long way to go.” He looked up at the ceiling and sighed. He’d worked himself to the bone the past few years, and he could tell that he’d made great strides in his growth, but his father’s shadow seemed just as out of reach as before. It was as if the more Nozomu grew, the more obvious the gulf between him and his father became.
By the age of fourteen, his father had already saved the Wolf Clan from extinction, and at seventeen, he’d grown it into one of the few great powers of Yggdrasil. Nozomu was already twenty, but he hadn’t even come close to catching up to where his father had been when he was fourteen. As for the things his father had done by seventeen, he’d already given up on achieving anything like that within his lifetime. He resented his own powerlessness more and more with each passing day.
“You’re always so hard on yourself, Big Bro,” said Arness, his younger brother by one year, with a sour look on his face. He was the son of Yuuto and Linnea, and he was currently displaying his business acumen as Iarnvidr Trading Company’s treasurer—in fact, the reason he’d come to Nozomu’s cabin had originally been to discuss business. “If you ask me, that part of you’s exactly like Father.”
“I would rather have inherited his smarts and broad perspective like you did,” Nozomu said with an envious glare and sighed once more. Arness had a weak physical constitution and no athletic ability whatsoever, but his quick-wittedness more than made up for it. That part of his father was what Nozomu would have most liked to possess, so the fact that his little brother had instead been blessed with those qualities made him stew with jealousy.
“I get how you feel, Big Brother. You know the saying ‘a black hen lays white eggs’? Well, we’re like the black eggs a white hen laid,” Wiz interjected and nodded in agreement. She was their younger sister and served as second adviser for the company. Her mother, Sigrun, Managarmr of two generations prior, was a legend who’d felled countless warriors back in the wars of Yggdrasil, but Wiz’s reflexes were merely average at best. No, considering how much effort she’d had to put into her training when she was young, they were probably worse than that. “We may be Father’s children, but we’re not Father. You have your own good qualities about you, Nozomu.”
“You think I have good qualities? Like what?” Nozomu asked.
“...Well, you’re well-liked by everyone?” Wiz offered.
“Yeah, that’s right, Big Bro. Everyone loves you,” Arness chimed in.
“You mean they don’t see me as a real leader,” Nozomu said with a scowl and pursed his lips in dissatisfaction. Everyone always treated him so casually—even his younger brothers and those beneath him status. He knew why, of course—he wasn’t intimidating or imposing enough. Everyone always followed the commands of his younger brothers, Arness and Sigurd, to the letter, but they never seemed to treat any of Nozomu’s orders with the same gravitas. As someone who was meant to lead others, he couldn’t see that as anything but a flaw.
“I’m sorry, but the way you can’t take praise at face value is honestly irritating at times,” Wiz said exasperatedly.
“That’s right, Big Bro, it’s super irritating. It’s a compliment, so just accept it already,” Arness added, looking equally weary. They both let out a sigh at the same time. Truthfully, Nozomu also found that part of himself irritating, but it was in his nature, it seemed, and he couldn’t help it.
“Hmm... Big Bro, have you ever considered taking a breather every once in a while?”
“Seriously? I barely have the time to do something like...”
“A breather’s not something you have time for. It’s something you make tune for.” Arness cut Nozomu off before he could finish. “These past five years, we’ve all seen you try your damnedest to catch up to Father. In doing so, you’ve gotten a bit too entrenched in your work, I’d say.”
“I agree,” Wiz said with a nod.
“Are you two serious right now? If I can’t handle this much work, I’ll never...” Nozomu began before cutting himself off, having noticed Wiz was up to something. “Hey Wiz, what are you writing over there?”
“Just look at this, will you?” Wiz thrust a piece of papyrus in front of Nozomu’s face.
“How am I supposed to read it if you shove it right in my face?” Nozomu grumbled. Snatching the papyrus from Wiz, he read its contents.
Fools see naught in front of them but a pig’s rear.
“You trying to pick a fight with me?!” He tried to hurl the papyrus to the ground, but it met with resistance in the air and fluttered down instead, which only upset him further.
“Oh, looks like you were able to read it after all,” Wiz replied calmly. Her maintained composure was also getting on his nerves.
“Look, I may not be as smart as you guys, but I do at least know how to read,” Nozomu snapped.
“But just now you said you couldn’t read it. What gives?” Wiz rebutted.
“Just now? What are you going on about?!” Nozomu growled back.
“When I put it in front of your face,” Wiz explained.
“That’s because it was too close!”
“Right. And that’s the point I’m trying to make.”
“Huh...?” Nozomu was dumbstruck. Every now and then, Wiz would say things so abstruse that he had no idea what she meant. With a small smile, Arness tried to explain.
"“Too close’... What I believe she’s trying to do is make you realize that if you focus too closely on anything, it narrows your field of view.”
“Precisely.” Wiz nodded, seemingly satisfied with Arness’s explanation. While Nozomu was impressed that Arness could figure it out despite its obtuseness, he sighed in exasperation.
“How on earth was something like that supposed to make me understand? Just say what you mean.”
“I thought a visual demonstration might be easier to understand.”
“Well, you’d be wrong, because it made no sense to me at all.”
“But you experienced exactly what Arness described to you, did you not?”
“Huh? Well, I can’t really say that I didn’t...” he reluctantly admitted. Indeed, even if Wiz had said from the start what Arness had explained, Nozomu probably would’ve denied it and refused to listen. However, having been confronted through a practical example with exactly what she’d (however abstractly) explained, he had little room to argue back.
“I really can’t hold a candle to her either.” On the surface, she came off as aloof and a tad eccentric, but her keen eye for seeing through to the heart of things was second to none. In fact, that was precisely why she often seemed to be on another wavelength entirely—she’d simply arrived at the truth of the matter before anyone else. She may not have received the physical abilities of her parents, but there was no question she’d inherited their intelligence and wisdom.
“Meanwhile, there’s nothing special about me whatsoever. ” Put simply, Nozomu was a jack-of-all-trades and a master of none. Unlike his other siblings, there was nothing he especially excelled at. He knew he wouldn’t gain anything from dwelling on it, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was inferior to the rest of his brothers and sisters.
“Look, you’re closing yourself off again,” Wiz declared, grinding her index finger into the space between Nozomu’s eyebrows. He’d apparently let his emotions show on his face. “For one meant to lead others, that’s inexcusable... No, Wiz is right. I need to stop this negativity loop. It’s not doing me any favors.”
While Nozomu lost himself in thought, Arness dropped his fist into his palm as though he’d had an idea. “Now that I think about it, we might actually have a perfect opportunity, Big Bro.”
“Huh? What do you mean by that?” Nozomu asked.
“I mean, didn’t Father say he wanted you to head to Tarshish on your next inspection voyage?”
“Ah, yeah, I guess he did, didn’t he?” It had been five years since the night they’d all made their grand escape from Tarshish. His father was supposed to be dead, so he couldn’t exactly go there whenever he pleased. However, it had been his hometown ever since he could remember. He had friends and schoolmates there. Not to mention, it was the nation he was supposed to have ruled over in place of his father. He’d always been curious about how things were going there.
“Once we get home and have had some time to relax, how about we all go to Tarshish together and see how things are going? Not for work purposes, but as tourists,” Arness suggested.
“I mean, if it’s not for work purposes, I’m not really sure if—”
“Big Brother, you can be so bullheaded at times like this,” Wiz interjected.
Nozomu merely pouted in response.
“Some things in this world can only be truly understood by letting go of the reins. As the great Bruce Lee once said, ‘Don’t think, feel.’”
“Now that’s a deep saying if I’ve ever heard one.” Arness nodded his approval at Wiz’s aphorism. Nozomu thought that it was an odd saying for someone as meticulous as Arness to agree with, but Nozomu also had a revelation when he heard it. “I see. Yeah, I guess I do have a tendency to overthink things. ” His elders, including his father, were always telling him to let off the gas a little, after all. There had to be some amount of truth to it.
“Maybe I do need to take a breather every now and then after all,” Nozomu replied, deciding it was about time to concede the point. “I suppose I could give myself a little vacation, as a treat.”
Thus, Nozomu and the rest of Yuuto’s children decided to head to their childhood home of Tarshish for the first time in many years. What they didn’t know was that, whether by fate or coincidence, the trip would greatly change the trajectories of their lives going forward.
Tarshish, located on the southernmost tip of what is now known in the twenty-first century as the Iberian Peninsula, had been the Steel Clan’s base of operations ever since Yuuto had led them to the New World. As always, houses of sun-dried brick lined the streets. Tarshish was located within the wetlands, so it was easy for the townsfolk to gather the mud needed to build the bricks, just like they’d done in Yggdrasil and the Orient. Five years ago, the town had been bustling and full of life, but now...
“Everyone looks so gloomy,” Nozomu muttered with a frown as he walked the streets. Within the Steel Clan, he was known to have long since perished, so he’d donned a fake beard and wig to disguise his appearance.
“No kidding. What the hell is that Babel bastard doing?” Walking beside him, a golden-haired boy with an intense-looking face looked sour as he blamed the sights before them on the Steel Clan’s current reginarch. His name was Sigurd—Nozomu’s younger brother, as well as Fagrahvel’s son. Despite being only sixteen, he’d already been made vice-captain of the MuspellUnit, displaying outstanding talent as both a commander and a swordsman. The prevailing rumor was that Sigurd had already been selected to succeed Hildegard and become captain. Sigurd’s was yet another presence that stoked Nozomu’s feelings of inferiority, but Nozomu tried not to think about that right now.
“Isn’t that a Hlidskjalf over there?” Sigurd inquired.
“Sure looks like it. Why are they still building new ones?” Nozomu said with a frown. Before him was a massive building clearly still under construction, as the top half was uneven and incomplete.
Hlidskjalf, or ziggurats in local parlance, were towering structures originally built so that the people could get closer to heaven as they worshipped; however, they also served to display the dignity of their respective nations to their subjects and visitors from other countries. Even during Yuuto’s rule, small ziggurats continued to be built to support the faiths of the townsfolk, but this one was clearly several times more imposing, even in its incomplete stage.
“That’s not all... What’s with this ugly statue? Someone’s got bad taste.” Sigurd looked up at a gigantic bronze statue three times his size in apparent disgust. It held a spear in its right hand, and a severed human head in its left—a grotesque display indeed. “This is supposed to be Babel, right?”
“Yeah, and the head he’s holding is supposed to be...dad’s,” Nozomu replied.
“I get that the point’s to make the he of his own accomplishment more believable, but still, I can’t say it makes me feel very good,” Sigurd grumbled.
“You said it.” Nozomu and Sigurd grimaced in unison, the disgust clear on both of their faces. They understood the reason and knew it had to be that way, but it didn’t change the fact that seeing their father disgraced like this deeply disturbed them.
Screwing up his face, Sigurd practically spat out his next words. “It’d be one thing if he could at least rule his clan correctly, but he’s clearly just focused on stroking his own ego!” Even among Nozomu’s siblings, there was no follower of the war god Suoh-Yuuto more devout than the warrior Sigurd. Seeing his father’s honor besmirched must’ve caused the blood to rush to his head. “All right, Nozomu. Let’s kill him.”
“Whoa, whoa!” Seeing Sigurd exude a dangerous aura as he expressed violent intent, Nozomu quickly tried to restrain him, grabbing him from under the arms. However, it wasn’t enough to stop him, and Felicia’s son Rungr had to assist by pushing on Sigurd from the front. As always, when it came to his father, Sigurd had no brakes.
“Honestly, when he gets like this, he’s more like my mom than I am,” Wiz said with a chuckle. Her mother Sigrun was reserved when it came to nearly everything, but when Yuuto was involved, her boiling point was exceedingly low.
“Isn’t it a pupil’s duty to strive to think like their instructor?” Sigurd shot back, his face deadly serious even though Wiz’s comment had been partly in jest. His inability to sense sarcasm was, ironically enough, also just like his instructor Sigrun.
“Well, it’s not like I don’t understand how you feel, but calm down. Let’s not rush in headlong without thinking about the consequences first. If we just kill their ruler on impulse, the people will be the ones to suffer in the end.”
“Hmph.” Hearing Nozomu’s sound logic, Sigurd stopped resisting. He seemed to be coming to his senses. Nozomu let out a sigh of relief without meaning to. If he hadn’t been able to persuade Sigurd, even he and Rungr would’ve honestly had a rough time getting him to submit.
“For now, let’s wait until we hear the details from Jorgen,” Rungr suggested.
“Good idea. I was just thinking I’d like to pop in and say hi anyway,” Nozomu agreed. Jorgen had been the adviser of the previous reginarch, Yuuto. He’d been too old to make his escape with Yuuto and his family, but in staying behind, he’d agreed to advise Babel and keep a close eye on him during his rule.
Nozomu and the others were now outsiders here. Making a decision based solely on their own opinions would be far too rash. He wanted to hear the opinion of someone like Jorgen, who was intimately familiar with the goings-on within Tarshish and the Steel Clan, before taking any action.
After leaving Tarshish and walking eastward for a while, they reached the mansion of the former Wolf Clan patriarch, Jorgen. Jorgen was taking a walk in the garden when he spotted Nozomu and his siblings and immediately broke into a grin.
“Do my eyes deceive me? Lord Nozomu! Lord Rungr! Lady Wiz! Lord Arness! And Lord Sigurd! It’s been so long!” Jorgen exclaimed happily.
“Jorgen! Still alive and kicking, I see!” With an equally big grin, Nozomu ran to Jorgen and embraced him. Jorgen would be sixty-five this year, but his back was not yet hunched over, and he seemed to still have plenty of life in him yet. That alone made Nozomu glad beyond words.
“Mister Jorgen, it’s been a while,” Rungr said.
“Longtime no see,” Wiz added.
“I am glad to see you are well, Mister Jorgen,” Arness said with a courteous bow.
“What a relief. You’re just as healthy as ever,” Sigurd said.
Nozomu and his siblings were all grinning from ear to ear. Naturally, neither Yuuto nor Mitsuki had had parents in this world, so to Yuuto’s children, Jorgen might as well have been their grandfather.
“Yes, it’s so good to see you all. My, how you’ve grown! I’m overjoyed to have my earnest wish realized and be able to see you all as fine young adults. Now I can head to Valhalla without any regrets,” Jorgen replied cheerfully.
“Whoa, whoa, it’s way too soon to be talking about any of that!” Nozomu said hurriedly. “What if I told you I have a kid of my own now? Would that instill a regret or two in you?”
“Wh-What?! Where?! Let me see!”
“Ah, well, actually, she’s still a bit young to go on a trip like this, so I left her at home. But when she gets bigger I’ll bring her, so you gotta at least hold out until then, okay?”
“Pfft. Ha ha ha! Well, if that’s the case, I suppose I can’t die just yet, can I?” Jorgen grinned in amusement. People his age had this strange tendency to just up and die at the point where they felt most satisfied with life.
No Comments Yet
Post a new comment
Register or Login