Yuto and Sariel traveled light. They had neither horses nor a carriage. Sariel insisted on walking on her own two feet and entrusted all her luggage to Yuto.

“Why don’t you wear shoes?”

Yuto asked as he followed her with a large bag on his back. Sariel was barefoot, just as she had been when they first met.

“Because I like the feel of earth beneath my feet. Don’t try it yourself. If you hurt your feet for no good reason, I’ll have to carry you on my back.”

Perhaps eccentric was the word for her. Sariel was mysterious in many ways. Even the name she gave was an alias, and she said absolutely nothing about her age or what she had done before meeting Yuto.

‘Part elf...’

Proud elves did not mate with other races. Indeed, being of mixed blood offered no advantages whatsoever in this world. Such people belonged to neither side, and even the constellations in the heavens would not grant them protection.

“Boy, you choose where we sleep tonight.”

On the first day of their journey, Sariel abruptly spoke as she watched the setting sun.

“Me?”

“Yes. You need all sorts of knowledge to survive this fucked-up world. Most problems can be solved with sufficient fighting prowess, but strength alone won’t solve everything.”

She shook her liquor bottle and continued.

“Finding somewhere to sleep, for instance. Swing your sword till your balls fall off out in the wilderness, and will a house appear out of thin air? At your age, you need good food and sound sleep to grow.”

Sariel taught him more than how to wield his power. How to find water. How to distinguish the edible from the inedible. How to read the wind. How to find a safe place to spend the night, conceal his presence, and sense the presence of others. She taught him everything he needed to survive.

“Learning to handle your power and grow stronger matters, but so does living a long life without getting killed. Most beings that have lived a long time are strong.”

“Like you, Lady Sariel?”

“You insolent little thing. Bringing up a woman’s age—do you have a death wish?”

Yuto absorbed her lessons like a sponge. No—to be precise, he already had a vague knowledge of everything she taught him. Rather than “learning” from Sariel, her lessons were closer to “recalling” things he had already known.

Whether finding water or choosing a campsite, when Sariel supplied half the answer, Yuto filled in the rest on his own.

“Well, look at you.”

Sariel chuckled as she surveyed the campsite he had chosen. It was sheltered from the wind, near water but not too near, with a rock at their backs to reduce their blind spots.

“You found a fine spot, as though you’re used to life in the field. Are you sure all your memories haven’t already returned?”

“They haven’t. It’s just... I don’t think this is my first time doing this.”

His memories kept returning. Yuto had been the king of Belkain, but he had spent more time traveling than in the royal castle.

He had particularly many memories of battlefields. Having slain every member of Eclipse, that was only natural, but...

“Your past grows more intriguing by the day. Just what did you used to do?”

Sariel stared at him, her single eye sparkling, but Yuto did not answer.

He could not. He was actually the king of Belkain, which had supposedly fallen three years ago, and he had returned to the past from the distant future. Even Yuto thought it sounded absurd and contradictory. How could he possibly say it aloud? Nor did he trust Sariel completely enough to tell her the truth.

‘Sariel wants something from me.’

Whatever it was, her kindness did not come free. Besides, Sariel was peculiar in many ways and had plenty of secrets. For one thing, she had not asked any detailed questions about the Void Skills he used.

“Lady Sariel.”

Yuto decided to address this question head-on. Sariel glanced up with her single eye as she lit the firewood he had gathered.

“What do you think this power of mine is?”

“Who knows? Magic?”

Sariel answered with a small laugh. Looking down at the flame catching on the wood, she continued.

“Hmm. I said it myself, but that makes no sense. You have a fair amount of aether, but not enough to use magic like that. Besides, boy, your power falls far outside the bounds of magic.”

“...”

“That leaves only one conclusion. A constellation’s power. But you aren’t a noble, are you?”

“No. And I never had this power before. The first time it manifested was... when I escaped the colosseum.”

“When you first met me, then. Hmm, how strange. Perhaps some constellation took an interest in your survival against Crimson... and decided to pay attention to you.”

Chuckling, Sariel sat down before the campfire.

“That makes no sense either, but as I said before, constellations are fickle. They made the rule that only nobles receive their protection, so they could make an exception whenever the mood strikes them.”

“Is that... so?”

“How else could you explain it? A constellation’s whim makes more sense, if anything. A fighter in an underground colosseum who didn’t even know exactly who he was faced Crimson Ringmistress, survived when no one else did, and received an invitation. A story like that could certainly interest the constellations. They feed on the stories of living beings.”

“Stories nourish them?”

“Yes. Why do you think the constellations look down on Callisto from the heavens? What else would relieve the boredom of beings that live for eternity?”

A bleak chill settled into Sariel’s single eye. Night had fallen, and stars filled the sky. She glared up at them as she continued.

“If Callisto is a vast stage for stories, the constellations are the audience watching for their own amusement. It’s not so different from your colosseum.”

His head began to throb. Yuto knew exactly what she meant. It was not merely that he understood her comparison to the colosseum. Since his previous life, he had understood it very, very well.

“When someone amuses them, they take notice. When that person turns twelve, they forge a contract. Then they watch that life unfold, granting stronger protection if they find it satisfying and entertaining. All the actors on the stage they watch are nobles—but sometimes, someone unusual appears among those who aren’t nobles.”

As she spoke, Sariel lowered her gaze to Yuto.

“Well, it’s all speculation. I have no way of knowing whether your power comes from a constellation. I have no contract with one myself... and frankly, your power is profoundly alien even by the standards of a constellation’s abilities.”

“...”

“You don’t really understand it yourself, either. Isn’t that enough for now?”

Yuto gazed at her, considering her words. Her speculation was reasonable in many respects.

“Have you fallen under the spell of my beauty? Understandable, but staring so openly is making me blush.”

With a small laugh, Sariel uncapped her liquor bottle. Yuto cleared his throat quietly and looked away.

‘Enough for now...?’

Both her earlier lack of questions and her reasoning now made it feel as though she was deliberately avoiding the subject of his power. That made it all the stranger that she was so actively, so eagerly teaching him how to wield it.

‘I don’t know what you want from me... but as I am now, I have no reason to refuse.’

Yuto thought as he stared into the campfire. If Sariel intended to use him for her own purposes, he could use her in return.

For now, there was nothing else he could do.

* * *

On the seventh day of their journey, after crossing Valistera’s border, Sariel and Yuto stopped at a small village.

It was so small that it did not even have a name on the map: twenty-odd houses, fields, and a single old well. They had only stopped briefly to replenish Sariel’s liquor, but the villagers welcomed the outsiders with bright smiles.

“You’ve come on a fine day. Come join the festivities.”

They had intended to leave immediately, but a villager took them by the hand and led them along.

“A wedding,” Sariel murmured.

People had gathered in a clearing at the center of the village. There was nothing extravagant about it. Decorations woven from wild grasses hung in place of gold and jewels, and the villagers clapped out a rhythm in place of musicians. The bride’s dress had been worn so many times that its skirt was frayed, and the groom’s ill-fitting clothes hung loosely on him.

“Hurray!”

And yet everyone was smiling. Cheers erupted when the groom took the bride’s hand, and when someone began singing clumsily, everyone joined in. Children ran around the couple, while the elderly watched with tears in their eyes and fond smiles.

Standing by the well, Yuto watched in a daze. The beaming bride and groom kissed.

At that moment, an ache pierced his chest.

‘Huh...?’

It was not a headache. His aether was not about to run wild. It was nothing like the shattering pain that had come whenever his memories were stirred.

It ached, weighed on his heart, felt warm...

And filled him with longing.

‘I, too...’

Without realizing it, Yuto looked down at his palm.

‘I held someone’s hand... just like that.’

He was certain. He could not remember the other person’s face, but his palm remembered. The feel of a slender hand that had fit snugly in his own. The overwhelming emotion he had felt when he held it.

‘Who was it...?’

Yuto desperately searched his memories. In his earlier dream, he had seen his past. Memories of being a king, a hero, a husband—and a father. But the only emotions those hazy memories had evoked were rage and hatred at the horrors he had seen at the dream’s end. He had never felt anything like this.

Now, watching their wedding, his emotions surged. He desperately searched his memories, ignoring the headache as he tried to recall the owner of that hand.

He heard laughter. The laughter from his dream. A voice too blurred to make out, yet more precious to him than anything in the world.

And a small weight nestling in his arms.

‘My family. My wife and daughter.’

The bride and groom smiled at one another. Villagers showered them with wildflower petals. The song of blessing continued. Yuto took it all in.

This was a world where constellations looked down from the heavens, nobles enslaved people, and monsters slaughtered on a whim. That was the Callisto Yuto had seen since his return. Prisons, colosseums, blood, and death.

Yet even in such a world, something like this could bloom. A small happiness made of an old dress, wild-grass decorations, and clumsy singing.

‘Ah...’

It was dazzling. The past he had been searching for overlapped with the present.

“Do you envy them?”

The voice came from beside him. Sariel stood with her hands behind her back, watching the same scene.

Yuto could not answer. His heart hurt too much to say yes, yet he could not look away enough to say no.

“You’re allowed to envy them,” Sariel said softly.

“Whether it’s something you never had or something you lost.”

With those words, she walked on ahead. Yuto remained a while longer, turning away only when the villagers crowded around the bride and groom and hid them from view.

The song of blessing followed them until they left the village.

That night, Yuto dreamed again.

Perhaps because of the wedding he had seen that day, the dream was clearer than before.

He heard laughter. A warm hand took his own. A small weight nestled in his arms, and that little being looked up at him, babbling something.

He was happy.

So happy his heart could burst. And that frightened him. Because he knew what came next.

The dream turned red. The song of blessing became screams. The once-warm hand turned cold and fell limply to the floor. The small weight in his arms was carried away in someone else’s.

Yuto reached out, but could not reach them. He shouted a name, yet could not hear that name himself.

Yuto staggered through the bloodstained depths beneath the royal palace. Blood marked his footsteps. His hand slipped against the wall. Blood flowed without pause from the wound piercing his chest.

Still, he walked. He could not stop. If he collapsed here, everything would end. And if it ended—he could never take revenge. He could never reclaim what had been stolen. Then what of what had vanished? What he had lost? What had died before his very eyes?

‘What did I lose?’

He walked and walked. At last, his knees buckled. Above Yuto as he slumped to the ground, the stars laughed. They cackled, clapped, and cheered.

“Hah...!”

Yuto opened his eyes. The night sky was full of hateful stars. After glaring at them, he slowly sat up. His whole body was drenched in cold sweat, and his heart still raced as though he remained in the dream.

CRACKLE, CRACKLE.

He heard the campfire burning. Sariel sat on the other side, a liquor bottle resting on her knee. She watched him wake for a moment, then spoke.

“Have some water first.”

She tossed him a waterskin. Still gasping, Yuto took a sip. As the cold water ran down his throat, the remnants of the dream began to wash away.

“Aren’t you going to sleep?”

“I don’t need much sleep.”

Sariel answered casually, tipping her bottle, but Yuto knew. Not once since their journey began had he slept peacefully. He always had the same nightmare, and whenever he woke from it, Sariel was always awake. Without a single exception.

“Another fucked-up dream, I take it,” Sariel murmured with a small laugh.

“Was it about your past?”

“... Yes.”

“Hmm. You survived that hell. No wonder every recollection is a nightmare.”

She tipped her bottle again.

“I’m traveling with you to help you regain your memories, but a thought occurs to me. If these dreams, so painful and terrible that you can never sleep peacefully, truly are your past, is there any need to remember it?”

Sariel lowered her bottle and regarded him steadily.

“Perhaps you’d be better off erasing a past like that altogether. Whatever happened before, you’re alive here and now, aren’t you? If you truly wish it, I could help you never remember that past again.”

“No, there’s no need.”

Yuto answered through gritted teeth.

“I must never... forget this past. I have to remember it.”

“Why? Aren’t those memories painful? Boy, you’re still young. If you survived that hell, wouldn’t it be better to forget the past and find happiness in the future?”

“I can’t do that.”

Yuto clenched his trembling hands.

“They’re far too happy... to forget. I must never forget them.”

“Are you saying your past happiness matters more than the happiness you might find in the life ahead?”

“Any happiness I gained by forgetting this past would be meaningless. And... and I don’t want happiness anyway.”

“Then what do you want?”

“Revenge.”

Sariel’s single eye narrowed at the word. After a brief silence, she spoke.

“Revenge. Against whom?”

“Those who made my past so painful.”

“Ahaha...”

Sariel let out a low laugh.

“Boy, you’re cursed. Your past has become a terrible curse, and it has you in its grip.”

“...”

“I won’t say that’s wrong. Everyone is in the grip of something. Myself included.”

Sariel slowly rose, walked over to Yuto, and dropped down beside him. Then she stroked his hair, soaked with cold sweat, a few times.

“Though it seems you can’t yet remember whom you need to take revenge against.”

After stroking his head a little longer, she forced him to lie down with his head on her lap.

“Even revenge requires strength. So sleep for now. You need sound sleep to grow stronger.”

Yuto looked up at her in a daze. A week had already passed since he began traveling with her.

His impression of Sariel had remained the same throughout. A mysterious, suspicious woman with many secrets. A woman who showed him kindness because she wanted something, who intended to use him.

‘Just what do you want from me to...?’

She had called it a debt. She had said she would collect payment later. Yet things that could not be explained by that alone kept piling up. The nights she watched over his nightmares. The food she pressed into his hands, saying it was a gift from an adult, something he needed to grow big and strong. The hand ruffling his hair. The warmth spreading through his head.

Even if he asked, he would receive the same answer as before.

Yuto swallowed his question and closed his eyes.