Crown of Thorns

Chapter 16



Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

Translator and editor : Cuties

The young warrior who has not come for a long time appeared. I have been following the boy around and watching him, but I have yet to find a way to keep him by my side. The boy from my memory came close to me with doubts watching me as he grew up into a young man, but the boy in front of me was still young and I couldn’t figure out how to make him understand.

The boy, who standing with a frown near the wall, came close looking at me quietly, saying nothing. Then he crouched in front of me and looked into my eyes. I can’t take my eyes off the boy’s hair, which is clearly shining in the dark.

But soon my eyes darted to his newest wound. It must have been caused by the thorns when he entered here. His gray-looking expression did not affect me very much, but the red blood oozing from his wound made it look painful and it tugged at my heart. And the tear in his skin was slowly and roughly healing and settling as a scar. It is fortunate that his wounds do not fester or rot, and it is also surprising how they can be healed so cleanly.

“You.”

The boy’s mouth opened and I turned my gaze back to his face. But he hesitates and can’t muster up his words. He’s just such an ordinary boy, but he turns into a completely different person when he enters the city walls. It’s the monsters in human shapes that make the boy change so. People are sometimes so vicious and cruel.

The boy, who hesitated to speak, eventually closed his mouth with a small sigh. Then he got up and looked through the inside of the tower. But there’s nothing to see. Most of the items rotted away, and the remaining ones smell bad, making it difficult to get close to them.

But the boy looked around as if he didn’t care and soon lifted the cards on the rotten table. The old cards were shuffled at once by the boy’s hands. The boy came with his cards and crouched down in front of me.

I looked at the card that the boy put down because I thought what it meant. The card that lay closest to the boy, as if to ridicule my resolution, was showing death. When I reached out and quickly flipped the card over, the boy turned it over again with a puzzled look on his face and looked at the picture.

“Why did you flip this all of a sudden?”

Because I don’t want to see it. Because I’m not confident seeing that future again.

Instead of answering, I collected all the cards including the one was interested in and arranged them. When I put the ten cards stacked together on the floor again, the boy continued.

“Look at my future.”

“What?”

“You can see my future. Please look at it.”

“Do you believe the witch’s fortune telling?”

As if my words were unexpected, the boy who was facing me nodded. It was such a small nod that I couldn’t see it without looking closely. But I didn’t miss it and there was a stir somewhere in my heart. Because I couldn’t believe the boy who could believe me.

I wanted to ask why, but I was not confident in hearing the answer, so I quietly mixed the cards. Maybe it’s just because I want to see the card’s fortune again, or because I don’t think he has a reason to lie. Or I may think that it is not a bad thing, so I don’t have to treat it as a lie.

The young warrior was still too far from believing the witch’s words and had no reason to do so, and most of all, he was not a boy who grew up in a reliable environment. I’m not confident looking into it yet. I wasn’t prepared to see what kind of eyes the world is looking at him with and how broken the heart of such a young and beautiful boy is.

After mixing the cards, I put them down in a constant array. The boy hugged his knees and looked down with interest. When I turn a card over, he looks at it with his head bent closely even though he can’t interpret it. The boy’s red eyes follow my fingers as they hover over the cards.

He looked so cute that I wanted to ask him if he knew. I wanted to burst into light laugher; perhaps the boy’s light has melted the witch’s darkness. The boy’s ability to pull out my long-dead emotions and facial expressions was amazing. The boy who had melted my long time was really like the sun. He was the light that came to ignite the witch’s tower with warmth.

As I moved my finger again, of course the boy’s red eyes followed and eventually couldn’t stand it and asked questions.

“This is the card you turned over earlier. What does it mean?”

The pictures on the cards were all alike and so esoteric to the point where he couldn’t figure out what they meant. The meaning could be inferred from the very subtly different characteristics. The card I just flipped over was also the same as the rest; depicting a black-clad woman in the middle holding something against her chest, except that in this card she was holding a dagger, which he keenly recognized.

“This must be a distinction.”

“They’re all a little different. This is a sword, this is a candle, this is a bell… Oh, but is this a person? A person in black? Why is she holding a sword? It’s like she’s stabbing herself, too.”

It was difficult to recognize that it was a woman standing in the middle because it was painted black all over, but it was embarrassing to pinpoint it. What was more embarrassing, however, was the boy’s reaction after interpreting that a woman was holding a dagger to stab herself. He looked over the card again, stiffened at a glance. Then he opened his mouth.

“Is it suicide or death? Doesn’t that mean death?”

I shook my head. The boy looks at me with suspicious eyes not believing me. You can’t easily believe what a witch says. Even if I weren’t a witch, it would have been hard to believe.

“Then what is it?”

“The card you’re holding is your future. It means the light that will drive out the darkness.”

The dagger held by the black woman will stab the witch, not the warrior.

Hearing my words, he looked at the card again and asked.

“But why did you flip it before?”

“There’s no reason.”

“Lies.”

“I’ve no reason to lie.”

The boy kept his mouth shut, but his sharp eyes were ungrateful. It was a pity that such a young boy had doubts instead of innocence. I took the card the boy was holding and mixed it up again. But the boys hands covered mine and stopped me. His hands were very warm. It’s been so long since I felt the warmth that I shivered without realizing it. The youngster in memory was also so warm. I look at the boy and my eyes portray the man he grew up into from my memory. His warmth reminded me.

“You’ve told me before that I was the light that would drive out the darkness. The warrior who will save the world.”

“Yes.”

“Is that all? There are several cards you just flipped over, but why did you only tell me what one of them meant?”

“The past, the present, and the future. What you wanted to know was the future.”

“Then is that really my future?”

“Yes.”

The boy put the cards and his small hands that were covering mine back in place and soon buried his face between his knees. That sitting position made the little boy look even smaller. I arranged the cards, put them in order, and waited for the boy to speak. He must’ve been curious about something to ask me to read his fortune.

And, indeed, a small voice came from the crouching boy.

“It doesn’t make sense.”

I didn’t know how to make him believe it, so I just looked at him, and the boy opened lifted his head up and spoke.

“I’m too weak. How could I when I am this weak? How could I possibly save the world?”

With his red eyes shaking, the boy looked at me anxiously and then looked at the swallowing darkness around and continued to speak.

“How can I drive out the darkness when I’m so weak that I can’t even protect my own body?”

I spoke then.

“I’ll help you.”

The boy’s round eyes turned to me. I said again, looking straight at the red in them.

“It’s possible because I’m going to make sure you get rid of the darkness.”

The witch intended to teach the young warrior to make him strong enough to drive out the darkness.

To kill the witch.

So that the boy who remains can become a hero and live happily.

“I’ll teach you, young warrior.”

May my sincerity reach through to you.

I kept staring at the red irises, waiting for the boy’s answer.

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