Wasn’t This a Night Game

It’s Alright

Iomene stirred from her bedding.

Without a thought to smooth her disheveled hair, she went to the mirror and, catlike, began to wash her face. She stopped short, startled by the sight of the countless self-inflicted scars on her arms, now vanished.

Yesterday.

Yesterday, after that strange man in the priestly robes placed his hand on her head, her limbs had prickled and tingled. When she looked, this is what she found.

A spectacle that startled her, no matter how many times she witnessed it.

How?

Just a touch to the head, that’s all?

She was used to seeing fear in people’s eyes.

Yet, he showed none, coming in without a hazmat suit, and…

Touching her so freely with bare hands.

In her nineteen years, yesterday’s encounter with that man was the most shocking event of her life.

Was he a good person?

Iomene paused, considering.

Too soon to know.

The possibility he was dangerous still lingered.

Like the ones who came every seven days, binding her, inflicting agony.

Today.

Today was the day of torment.

Iomene gurgled with a mix of fear and unease.

Instinctively, she reached to scratch at her skin, but instead of the familiar rough texture of scars, smooth skin greeted her fingertips, stopping her motion.

A strange man.

The feeling of smooth skin was undeniably pleasant.

How was she supposed to take him?

A single thought bloomed in Iomene’s mind.

Today.

She would see if he protected her from those oddly dressed people who came to inflict pain.

If…

If he was like the people who hurt her.

If he was someone who helped them.

She would claw.

She would bite with all her might.

He came in without a hazmat suit, so it would be much easier to wound him.

Absolutely.

Absolutely never let her guard down.

Never completely let go of her wariness.

Letting her guard down would hurt again.

Iomene swore this to herself, growling low.

*

Princess Iomene was ravenously devouring the snacks I’d brought.

I watched the spectacle, feeling pleased.

“Princess. Eat slowly. There’s still plenty.”

Whether she heard me or not, Princess Iomene was only focused on cramming cookies and bread into her mouth like she didn’t know tomorrow.

I’d heard she’d only ever eaten survival rations, things like nutritional supplements and sedatives, rather than snacks or anything sweet.

This seemed like the first time.

“Here. Try this too. This is also good. Peaches soaked in honey.”

As I opened the jar and offered a peach towards her, as if catching the scent, the Princess cautiously approached me.

I took out the peach, the fork I’d brought, and offered it to the princess.

She sniffed at it, then bit into the peach.

Her eyes widened.

And, clearly enjoying it, she snatched the jar and fork from my hand and began shoveling it in.

Without a trace of dignity or etiquette.

The actions of a beast, pure and simple.

But it didn’t matter.

How lucky, how pleasing, to see her eating so well.

“Eat plenty. I brought a bunch of other things too.”

To befriend a beast, you gotta feed it, right?

Was I looking at her, the princess, with a contented look, lost in such thoughts?

Somewhere in the detached palace, a grandfather clock must have been set up because I heard a *dong-dong* ringing twice.

The princess, who’d been mindlessly stuffing herself with snacks, suddenly stopped, like she’d been struck by lightning.

And then she looked toward one side.

She was looking at the main gate of the detached palace.

She stopped eating, and began panting raggedly.

I looked at her with pity.

“Saint. Every Tuesday at 2 PM, she always received holy magic healing. And today is that day. Now that the Saint has arrived, we will no longer treat her… but you should know that at 2 PM today, the princess will become very sensitive.”

Before entering the detached palace today.

Those were the words of the wizard who tried to give me the protective suit last time.

As expected, she stood guard, her face a mask of stark terror, fixed on the royal villa’s main gate.

“Kiyaaa!!………”

Fork clutched tight in her hand, she raised her voice, ready to strike at any moment.

I watched her for a moment, then slowly rose to my feet.

“They won’t come. The sick ones aren’t coming today.”

But no matter how many times I said it, the Imperial Princess remained on edge, haunted.

Then, unable to bear it any longer, she lifted her hand high, as if to bring the fork crashing down on herself.

Seeing her about to self-harm, I darted forward to stop her.

“Kyaaa!!”

The fork dug into my forearm.

Fucking hell, that hurts!!

What the hell is going on since yesterday!!

It hurts!!

It hurts, but…

The Imperial Princess before my eyes is even more pitiful.

“No! It’s alright! They won’t come! You won’t be sick today!”

“Kyaaa!”

But the Imperial Princess wouldn’t stop.

Seeing me blocking her way, she unleashed her rage upon me.

She began stabbing at me with the fork, a flurry of blind strikes.

Blood threatened to spray, and a scream of pain felt poised to erupt.

But I held it back.

Desperately swallowing the scream, I went to the Princess.

The moment the Princess plunged the fork into my shoulder.

I, in turn, embraced her tightly.

“Shhh… It’s alright. It’s alright.”

Tears sprang to my eyes from the pain.

Wow, really…

It fucking hurts, really.

But I could endure it.

“It’s alright. It’s alright.”

I patted the Princess’s back, repeatedly telling her it was alright.

The Princess, who’d sunk the fork into my shoulder and snarled, trying to bite me, seemed to calm with my touch, gradually lowering her voice.

Though my eyes streamed tears from the pain, my mouth continued to comfort her.

Yeah.

So what if I get stabbed a little.

I can be healed anyway, even if I get hurt.

The pain you’ve suffered for sixteen years would be so much greater.

Isn’t that right?

Cold sweat trickled down, but finally, when I felt the Princess snuggle into my embrace, ceasing her growls, I knew I had done well to endure.

Carefully.

Even after pulling the fork from my shoulder, after healing my body with somatic modding, I didn’t stop patting the Princess.

“It’s alright. It’s alright. It won’t hurt anymore. You don’t have to do the painful thing once a week anymore. Calm down. It’s alright.”

I kept coaxing her like a small child, and the Princess finally raised her head.

She was crying.

With eyes full of tears, the Princess stared at the main gate, trembling.

“It’s alright. It’s alright.”

I picked her up.

And carefully walked to her room.

Her bedroom, with its magnificent bed.

But empty. No one else there.

I lay down there with her.

“Sleep now. No one’s going to hurt you today. Understand? Just calm down and get some sleep.”

Slowly, as she calmed, the Princess’s stiff body relaxed.

And she nestled into me, little by little.

I held Iomene.

Patting her back, singing the songs I knew – lullabies, pop songs, anime themes – not singing well, but comically – for hours, maybe.

It was late in the evening when Princess Iomene’s body finally went limp.

I looked down to find her deeply asleep, breathing evenly.

I wiped the tear tracks from her face.

I’m cursed, and I’m doing this with a selfish intent to escape, but truly, she’s pitiful, terribly so.

Was the Emperor and Empress’s choice to save Iomene truly right?

Even I, in this short span, have thought it over dozens of times.

Iomene is pitiful,

the Emperor and Empress are pitiful, and Princess Almene is pitiful too.

So, the suffering I endured today is nothing but trivial.

So what if I’m hurt?

It’s enough if she sleeps like this.

I tucked the blanket around her well, cleaned up the place where she ate her snacks, and then left the detached palace.

My pristine white cleric’s robes were reddened by the blood that dripped when she stabbed me with the fork, but this much hardship is nothing, to avoid certain hell.

I could do it, any amount.

“Holy One!”

“Heavens! Blood!!… What happened?”

It’s no wonder they react like that, seeing my cleric’s robes pierced full of holes by a fork, stained with blood.

I waved a reassuring hand towards the clerics and mages who were always standing by outside the detached palace, ready for any unforeseen event.

“Don’t worry too much. It was nothing. I’ll be back tomorrow. You might as well know in advance.”

It stings, being stabbed with a fork.

But burning in hell will hurt more.

If I endure just a little, I can skip hell.

It’s a bargain, plenty profitable.

“Saintess…”

A few of the priests and mages seemed moved, their eyes reddening.

“Thank you. Thank you for stopping us from doing such things.”

“Every Tuesday, I thought it would be better to just die.”

“I couldn’t even sleep properly because of the screaming of that child. Really…thank you, truly.”

Some were even weeping, consumed by guilt.

I understand.

It wasn’t like they enjoyed torturing that young princess.

“You’ve all worked hard until now.”

That’s what I told them.

Yeah.

They really worked hard.

And I really worked hard too.

Doing saintly things that didn’t suit me, and ended up booking a one-way ticket to hell.

Fucking goddamn goddess.

Time to bolt back to Korea.

I just want to…

Stop living in fear for once.

*

A darkened room.

A perfect darkness, save for a lone, wavering candle flame atop the table.

Only silhouettes were visible, murmuring amongst themselves.

“A variable has arisen. The Saint has entered this affair.”

A buzz of voices, spreading through the dark.

“Amal, the Saint of Healing.”

“The one recognized by the Pantheon.”

“He’s the one who found the brother hidden within the Solar Order.”

“How, I ask you? I still can’t fathom it.”

“The miracle was perfect. The miracle of concealment the Evil God bestowed upon us, it was flawless.”

“No divine magic. No miracle. No magic of any kind. Nor human effort or zeal, could have found us.”

“And yet, the Saint found us.”

“Is he going to ruin things again?”

The torrent of words ceased, abruptly.

After a long silence, one of the silhouettes spoke, sounding uneasy.

“He couldn’t possibly recognize the Evil God’s Chosen, the one by the Princess’s side, could he?”

A renewed murmur swept through the room.

“The one with a thousand faces, his disguise is perfect! He can deceive all but himself!”

“Impossible. He will never be exposed. The Emperor and Empress sought him desperately, yet they could never find him.”

“He is favored by the Evil God. He will never be discovered.”

But the anxiety in their voices was undeniable.

If we’re talking like that, the brother who infiltrated the Sun Order, his disguise was perfect too.

One of those beings who could wield the miracle of concealment more deftly than anyone.

Another name for the Evil God is the Deceiver. The Blood Drinker.

The Evil God’s miracle even hid you from the gods’ eyes.

For over ten years, he’d been safely embedded inside the Order, only for the Saint to find him through some unknowable miracle.

The problem is, no one can figure out *how* he found him.

Not a typical form of miracle. Not holy magic fueled by divine power. Not magic.

Just found him.

That was what drove those gathered here to a maddening unease.

“It seems the concealment miracle on the Chosen needs to be strengthened further. The Saint is too close to the Chosen. Contact the Collector. Tell them to gather more human grudges and send them to the Chosen.”

“It shall be done.”

With that, the meeting was concluded.

Starting with one silhouette rising from their seat, everyone rose.

“By the will of the Blood Drinker.”

Everyone spoke those words in one voice.

Then, the candlelight flickered out.

The silhouettes vanished with it.