The first sense to stir him awake was smell. Something was burning, but it did not seem to be firewood. Herbs, perhaps? It was a delicate scent that filled him with an inexplicable longing.

Valeri opened his eyes and sought its source. A woman sat by the window, smoking a long, slender pipe.

She wore black silk robes and sat with her legs crossed, her hood down. Long ears protruded through her silken golden hair. A rune mage. An elf.

Bathed in fresh sunlight, she turned toward him. Her beauty was as unreal as the tales of elves claimed. Her skin was so white that it almost seemed to glow, as though someone had cut a piece from pure, unblemished whiteness and laid it upon her face. Her age was impossible to judge, though she looked to be in her late teens or early twenties.

Her pipe, crossed legs, and bearing, however, seemed rather far removed from innocence. Yet that contrast seemed only to double her charm.

Her eyes were large and open, though there was something faintly arrogant about them, as if she were looking down on others. Her emerald irises shone all the more brilliantly in the sunlight. When she saw that Valeri was awake, she gave him the gentlest of smiles, and that trace of arrogance vanished completely.

"You're awake, Lord Valeri?"

"... Who are you?"

"I am Sigrún, a rune mage bound by the covenant, a resident of Alfheim, and a light elf. I have watched over you for a very long time."

"... Since when?"

"Since you were born. I was the one who entrusted you to the Earl of Winslow."

Valeri felt strange. Without any particular reason, he resented her for having done nothing but watch. At the same time, he felt relieved to know he had not been alone. Those tangled feelings left him vaguely displeased.

Still only just awake, he quietly retraced what had happened before he lost consciousness, then continued the conversation.

"Why the Earl of Winslow, of all people?"

"We merely follow the light of the stars. There was no other reason."

"To think you would do something like that on the strength of mere astrology. It's absurd. And simply watching me all that time seems rather underhanded. I can't say I like it."

"Even an elf cannot watch without feeling anything, you know. Sometimes I cheer you on. Sometimes I grieve. Sometimes my heart aches for you."

Even so, Valeri thought it meant nothing if the person being watched never knew. Unless the point was to make a fool of him.

"... Don't tell me this is what the selection of an Einheri was about?"

"I did not manipulate anything. I merely watched the stars and followed their light. The royal decree to select an Einheri was like a small ripple. Guided by fate, you proved that you possessed the strength befitting one, and I saw it clearly. From beginning to end."

Duke Sven had indeed used the royal decree to select an Einheri as a pretext to take Harald away. Valeri had stopped him, setting in motion everything that had happened since.

One could call it a small cause, or a decisive one.

Valeri turned his head and closed his eyes. He was not going back to sleep; he was simply tired. He could barely make sense of what she was saying, and he was still recovering from the tremendous pain he had endured.

The scenes he had witnessed after drinking the dragon's blood lingered like scars upon his heart, both physical and emotional. They had probably been scenes from the history of his own bloodline, the Vǫlsungr clan.

The story of the Vǫlsungr clan, the Vǫlsungr Saga, was a widely known tragedy. In short, it was a tale of generation after generation avenging their parents.

Every figure succeeded in taking revenge, only to die miserably in turn. A son born after his father's death would avenge him, then die himself, and the vengeance would begin anew.

An honorable clan that never left a wrong unavenged. A house both respected and feared, whose bloodline had at last attained sanctity. That was the Vǫlsungr clan, the royal house of the present kingdom.

But seeing those events himself and feeling the emotions exactly as they had been felt was entirely different from knowing them only as a story.

Once, Valeri had cursed his bloodline. Now he pitied it. Did they not need comfort more than worship?

Come to think of it, that terrible pain in his heart was somehow gone.

"Dragon's blood forcibly awakens the power of runes. Taken improperly, it destroys the body. So I have suppressed it. With the proper training, you should be able to absorb the power little by little, in amounts you can endure."

"..."

Valeri did not particularly care about that. All he wanted was rest. Perhaps understanding this, Sigrún said no more.

A comfortable silence settled over them. Voices drifted in from outside. People seemed to be dealing with the aftermath of their victory. Their voices were vigorous and lively.

That was what victory did: even when you were exhausted, you hardly felt it.

Incidentally, the people believed that a dead god had appeared to help them. Apart from his friends, no one knew it had been Valeri.

Though the lightning-wreathed sword had illuminated his dark silhouette, they had not seen him up close, and they had been too overwhelmed with terror to think clearly.

"Did the rune mages devise this bloodshed among the princes?" Valeri asked, looking at Sigrún again.

"We are merely arbiters. As you know, it was King Sigmund who established it."

"Why did he do it? Was it really necessary to go that far?"

"There are practical reasons, particular to humans, and a sacred purpose as well. With your keen mind, you surely understand the practical reasons already. The sacred purpose is to select the one who will lead you to heaven."

The practical reason was that, in the kingdom's earliest days, the notion of kingship had been ill-defined. They used the title of king, but the man who held it was little more than a representative of numerous tribes.

In fact, when they had lived in the frozen lands, anyone who was so much as a chieftain had called himself a king. Among the Nords, in other words, every Tom, Dick, and Harry had been a king.

To put an end to that and reserve kingship for the Vǫlsungr bloodline alone, while uniting the tribes, had required numerous marriages. Inevitably, that had created problems of succession.

The Nords traditionally divided inheritances among their heirs. Valeri believed that this strange, cruel, and crude method had been adopted to consolidate their power once more.

It was rather like pissing on frozen feet for warmth. He could only surmise that desperation had forced them to choose it despite knowing it was wrong.

That explained the practical reasons. The sacred purpose was harder for Valeri to understand.

"Does heaven really exist? Have you seen it?"

"Who can say? Even I do not know whether what I have seen is heaven. But every human has a death of their own. A king is something like a passage toward that death."

Once again, he could not understand her. It was difficult to believe everything simply because a rune mage said it. Perhaps it was a question that would be debated forever. To believe or not to believe was a choice each person had to make.

Silence returned. Valeri looked at Sigrún, and Sigrún looked back. His gaze was merely indifferent, but hers was not. There was a subtle affection in her eyes.

Whether because it made him uncomfortable or because he still needed time to adjust, Valeri turned to look at the ceiling as he asked his next question.

"Suppose that after the king dies, I kill every member of the royal family with a claim to the throne, then die myself. What happens then?"

"Even I cannot say for certain. But recently, I saw a star explode. It meant that the worldline had been shaken profoundly. It was your star, Lord Valeri."

A star exploding? It seemed to be symbolic in an astrological sense, but Valeri intuitively understood it to mean his return to the past.

As a rune mage who divined fate, she might have glimpsed the broad course of his previous life, though he could not know how much she had seen. And now that star had exploded and vanished.

"... I see. But what do you think of it? Growing up apart from your parents, ignorant of your own identity, only to end up slaughtering your own kin? Doesn't it disgust you?"

Valeri felt a certain hostility toward the current method of royal succession. Though he could understand that there might have been no other choice when it was first instituted, he resented the insistence on continuing it even now.

"If you dislike it and wish to reject it, you will need the strength and will to break the covenant and defy fate."

"What is this covenant?"

"For us elves, it is our right to live here in Midgard, and the fulfillment of a duty bestowed upon us by a dead goddess. I cannot tell you the details."

Sigrún had introduced herself as a resident of Alfheim, but Alfheim had in fact ceased to exist when the gods died.

"Then please stop watching me. I will decide how to live my own life. Nor do I want House Winslow to suffer any harm should my identity come to light."

"That... Very well."

"It was that easy?"

"Every prince has a rune mage assigned to him. If his identity is exposed, or something occurs that violates the covenant, we inform the king. We never appear before the prince, either. We merely observe. But you are different, Lord Valeri. If your star has exploded, what is the new star that belongs to you alone? Even I have yet to find it. So there is no point in observing you from afar. For me, that is the greatest problem."

Put simply, Sigrún had lost her job. She needed a star corresponding to her prince in order to divine his fate and observe him as the succession unfolded. With his star blown apart, she could no longer do that.

Severing every branch of the royal bloodline and then taking his own life was something he regretted a little in retrospect, but it had certainly been a profoundly destructive decision in its own right.

"Fortunately, you responded to the faint ripple I sent out. By becoming an Einheri, I mean."

Sigrún drew something from inside her robes. It was a golden cloak clasp in the shape of three interlocking triangles.

The emblem was known as the Valknutr, meaning 'knot of the slain.'

In its narrower, present-day sense, the Einherier meant the king's royal guard. In the past, however, it had referred to the warriors who prepared for the final war in Valhalla.

The world they now inhabited was the one that remained after the gods had died in that final war.

One day, a great number of meteorites had fallen. There had been vast floods, and blizzards so fierce that people could no longer survive. People believed all those natural disasters had occurred because the gods had died.

In any event, becoming an Einheri meant joining the king's royal guard. But an Einheri did more than protect the king's person. The position also carried the authority to conduct independent operations.

That authority meant being able to wage war alone, and immunity from prosecution for murder and other crimes.

The titles 'one who fights alone' and 'one-man army' also referred to those powers. Of course, the authority was so immense that no one had ever actually exercised it.

Nor, before now, had a prince ever become an Einheri.

"But why is it fortunate that I became an Einheri?"

"Because it means I can meet you in an official capacity as a rune mage, rather than merely observe you. Just as we are meeting now. I may well be the only rune mage in history to have revealed herself to a prince."

One might happen across a rune mage by chance in the course of one's life, but arranging a deliberate meeting like this was virtually impossible. Unless one was the king, an Einheri, or a Valkyrie.

He did not know whether elves were normally so expressive, but Sigrún looked happy whenever she smiled.

"You may have watched me for a long time, but this is the first time I've seen you. Don't expect any personal interest or friendship from me."

His tone was cold, but it no longer radiated the bitter chill it once had. There was even something a little petulant about it. Perhaps it was because so much of the venom he had carried before returning to the past had faded.

"That's not true."

"What isn't?"

"You saw me as a baby, when you were born. Only briefly, but you did. And now we've met again."

"Does that mean anything?"

"Of course. I think you take the bonds between people far too lightly, Lord Valeri."

"Well... I don't know anymore, either."

Once, he would have used people as tools or means to an end, discarding them when they were no longer useful without the slightest guilt. Not anymore.

But if asked whether that meant he had become a good person, that did not seem right either. All he could say was that he did not know.

"It will be a very bright star. Your new star, I mean."

"... I don't care about any of that. I'd rather not have a star at all. Anyway, where are my friends?"

"They're all helping with the repairs."

Valeri felt a measure of relief. It was closer to reassurance than the elation of victory.

Silence fell again. After thinking quietly for a while, Valeri asked what might have been the most important question of all.

"Who is my mother?"

This time, Sigrún looked away. Gazing out the window, she said, "Must you know?"

"Surely you can't claim you don't know."

"You're right. I do know. But I cannot divulge the contents of the Gold-Sealed Register. Nor can I stop you from making your own decisions. That is all I can tell you."

"... Well, I understand. I don't blame you. I'll simply find out for myself."

At that answer, Sigrún turned back toward him. Her eyes held a complicated mixture of feelings, something like sorrow and something like pride.

After sitting quietly for a moment, Valeri raised his upper body. An unfamiliar sensation came over him. It was almost as though he could feel blood flowing through his veins, an energy issuing from his heart and circulating throughout his body.

But it was not blood. It was difficult to explain, yet he could distinctly feel that it was something else. Some other kind of energy seemed to be flowing along paths similar to those of his blood.

When he focused his attention on his hand, the energy gathered there, seeming to imbue it with a strength even he could clearly feel.

If this was the result of drinking dragon's blood, and this was what it felt like with Sigrún suppressing it, he thought he preferred it this way.

Power was only truly yours when you could control it. Otherwise, it would merely destroy you.

Suddenly, Valeri remembered something he had forgotten.

"I nearly forgot. Thank you for saving me."

Sigrún smiled with satisfaction.

"Apparently, it took a change great enough to make a star explode for you to learn to offer thanks like that. Well done. Very well done. I'm moved."

"... Please don't speak to me like that."

"Like what?"

"As though... Never mind."

Valeri got out of bed, only to realize that he was completely naked and dive back beneath the covers like a bolt of lightning.

"Don't be embarrassed. I told you, I've watched you since you were born. Does anyone come into this world wearing clothes? And I've kept watching ever since. Don't you understand what that means?"

"..."

Whether rune mages were strange or elves were simply like this, Valeri thought it would take him a long time to adjust.

Just then, the door abruptly swung open. Arne and Skard entered. They seemed to have been in the middle of a conversation, but stopped when they saw that Valeri was awake.

Both looked at him, yet neither readily spoke. Something in their gazes had changed. Gladness, relief, and fear.

"Are you... feeling all right?" Arne ventured.

Instead of answering at once, Valeri turned toward Sigrún. But the woman who had been there a moment before had vanished as though she had never existed.

Only a faint wisp of tobacco smoke lingered in the air, and soon even that disappeared.

All that remained was her scent.