Ch. 118
Somehow, Big Sis had managed to convince Annie overnight, and she was now wearing a backpack, ready to leave.
“Mom, do I really have to go?”
Her eyes were swollen from crying, and she kept asking Big Sis the same question, like she still couldn’t believe it.
“Annie, go with your sister. And be good, okay?”
“Whimper… I don’t want to be apart from you.”
“Then can you kill a deer? Can you pluck the feathers from a bird?”
“…I can’t do that.”
“Annie, my one and only daughter, I know you’re capable of doing something else. I also know what you want to do isn’t here.”
As Annie whimpered endlessly, Big Sis gently comforted her with calm patience.
If it were me, my patience would’ve run dry long ago—I could never have done it.
“Listen closely. Don’t leave your sister’s side.”
“Mm…”
“And once you’re out of the forest, it’s even more important, okay? In crowded places, never be alone. The city is scarier than the jungle. At the academy, listen to the adults… You can send letters to the inn. Don’t cry if you don’t get a reply. Now, promise.”
Annie didn’t say a word and only nodded, looking like she might burst into tears at any moment.
Big Sis looked worried but forced herself to appear composed as she turned to me.
“I’m counting on you, Geenie.”
“Don’t worry. Annie’s journey won’t be long.”
A long journey meant prolonged danger. Traveling with a child was a burden for both of us, so I planned to send Annie ahead to the academy using the Warp facility as soon as we reached the city.
Even if I couldn’t ride the Warp, Annie could. As long as Warp sickness wasn’t something that only affected people talented in Spirit Arts, it should be fine.
“I’m worried about Annie, of course… but I’m also worried about you.”
“Me? Oh please, I could survive in a dragon’s lair.”
Big Sis seemed to take it as a joke. But I was serious.
“For example, that sword—are you really going to keep carrying it on your back?”
“So what if I am?”
“Then cover it with this cloth. Carrying around a fine sword in plain sight is dangerous. Mielta doesn’t do ID checks, so its security is poor. Lots of bandits there.”
After fussing over me and checking a dozen times to make sure nothing was missing, Big Sis finally walked us to the edge of the village.
Honestly, if we had stayed any longer, we wouldn’t have been able to leave before sundown, so I initiated the farewell.
I placed Annie on the horse and sat behind her.
“We’re off now, Big Sis.”
“Mom…”
“Take care, and be safe.”
I saw her hands clench tighter around her folded arms.
It was clear she was holding back the urge to hug Annie again. She’d already hugged her a dozen times that morning, but it still wasn’t enough.
Annie kept looking back. Even after Big Sis disappeared from view, she looked back again and again.
It was cold-hearted, but I sped the horse up. We had a long way to go.
—
Though we ended up traveling together, Annie and I didn’t get along very well.
To be honest, I could tell after just one day—we were a terrible match.
I wasn’t just unfriendly; I was downright curt and found other people a nuisance.
Meanwhile, Annie was timid and shy, so we were bound to make each other uncomfortable.
“Sniffle… sob… I want to go home…”
To the point that if someone saw us, they’d probably assume I was a kidnapper.
“Really? I bet Big Sis would love that. If you want to go, I think it’s that way. Though, there might be some orcs and ogres along the way.”
“Waaah… sob!”
Maybe I scared her too much.
That first night after we left the village, Annie lay curled up on the other side of the campfire, sniffling all night. I couldn’t sleep at all because of the sound.
Considering it was her first time away from her mom, and she was only eight years old, I was doing my best to be patient. But I really couldn’t stand crying.
And if it went on for more than three days, of course I’d snap.
“Enough already! Crying won’t solve anything. Nothing at all!”
“Sniffle… I don’t want to cry either…”
“Then don’t cry!”
“I don’t know how to stop! Do you know how?”
“I’ve never cried, so I wouldn’t know.”
I had, of course, but she didn’t need to know that.
It seemed like Annie finally realized I wasn’t the type to comfort someone just because they were crying—after three long days of sniffling in my arms.
It wasn’t like I carried her because I wanted to.
We only had one horse, and I couldn’t put her behind me, so she had to sit in front while I held the reins. Like it or not, that was the setup.
“Big Sis… did Mom say she doesn’t expect anything from me anymore?”
“What are you talking about?”
We were going slowly on a rough mountain trail when Annie mumbled in her hoarse voice, worn out from crying.
“She said I don’t have to do sword training or go hunting anymore… At first, that made me happy. But then I got scared. I thought… maybe she was just really disappointed in me, so now she doesn’t expect anything.”
“You’re the one who kept saying you wanted to go to the academy, right? Do you know how desperately Big Sis begged me to take you?”
“So… she’s not disappointed in me?”
“Probably not.”
Maybe I should’ve answered more sincerely.
In a lot of ways, Annie was the complete opposite of me. She worried about things I’d never think twice about, got sad over everything, picked at her food…
She had no appetite and barely touched her meals no matter what I gave her, which irritated me a little.
I finally understood why my mom used to get angry when I wouldn’t eat what she made.
I’d hunted and cooked it, and she was eating it with the most miserable face imaginable. It twisted my gut.
“Annie.”
But instead of yelling, I tried to speak as gently as I could.
“Big Sis thinks the city suits you more than the jungle. She thinks you’ll be happier there.”
“…Mom said that?”
“Yeah. She’s been thinking a lot about you.”
Maybe it was because I’d been unusually kind, but Annie seemed to change her mind a little.
“Big Sis… you have to tell Mom, okay? That I didn’t cry. Promise.”
“After you bawled your eyes out.”
“I won’t cry anymore!”
“Alright, finish this meal, and I’ll think about it.”
Maybe it started then—Annie began pretending to be strong. But at night, she’d often lie face-down, quiet and still.
She cried less as time passed, but I never knew when she’d start again, which kept me on edge.
Traveling was already exhausting enough—I really didn’t want to drag a crying kid around.
[Rai, go be her pillow or something. She’s curled up all alone—kind of pitiful.]
[Huh? No way! I’m Master’s exclusive pillow!]
[It’s sad, though.]
[Then why don’t *you* give her your arm as a pillow?]
Yeah, no thanks.
Neither Rai nor I were the affectionate type. We were far from warm.
Even after a week with Annie, our relationship was still just as awkward and uncomfortable.
“I’m going to sleep. You’re on watch duty.”
Rai, who didn’t need sleep, stood guard every night.
I rested my head on Rai’s perfectly pillow-shaped tail and closed my eyes.
If Big Sis was right, the city was just a little further.
Finally, I could see the light at the end of this grueling journey.