TM 03

Chapter 3…

 Things We Cannot Understand

“Every priest on the continent has visited Trisen at least once.”

“Why is that?”

“Because there is a pilgrimage site there.”

“A pilgrimage site?”

Lorelia’s eyes widened as she looked at her tutor. The thick history book they had been studying lay forgotten long ago. Indeed, from the very start of the lesson, her mind had already drifted southward. Holtman smiled gently, noticing this.

Since things had come to this, there was no harm in switching the lesson from history to theology.

“Trisen is a land favored by the gods. When the Lord Heya gave the Seven Commandments, it is said He engraved them upon the ash tree of Isen. That tree still stands today, and priests of the continent are expected to make a pilgrimage there soon after their ordination. After completing the pilgrimage, it is an old tradition to share a banquet at the lord’s estate.”

“Perbrante? They host the banquet at their mansion?”

“Yes.”

“Then you must have been to the Trisen estate yourself?”

“I have.”

Holtman added, faintly smiling.

“When I had just become a priest… that was over sixty years ago. I met the lord of the estate. To be precise, it was the king. At that time, Trisen was a kingdom.”

Now well over eighty, Holtman had lived in Mendel Castle for decades under the patronage of the Heyes family. In gratitude for the generosity of Lord Hays, he taught the family’s descendants, oversaw worship at the temple, and prayed for the prosperity of the estate and family. Once the youngest daughter of the Heyes family married and left the castle, he would be free from duty and could prepare for death in peace. Holtman knew that day was not far off.

“Lorelia, do you remember what you learned about the Final War?”

“Yes.”

The daughter of the lord replied clearly.

“Martin III, grandfather of the current king Delmas IV, unified the continent through that war. The South was originally independent, but after the war, they pledged loyalty to the Roan royal family.”

Holtman reflected on the past, hearing her accurate answer. Though the memories were still vivid, time had mercilessly passed; that grueling war was already fifty years behind them.

“Trisen resisted, but they could not withstand the combined assault of Martin III and the great noble houses. Eventually, the Trisen king surrendered, accepted the status of a great noble, and thus the Final War ended.”

Following what she had learned, Lorelia asked again.

“Priest, then… was the Trisen lord who died thirteen years ago originally the crown prince?”

“Yes. Duke Joseph became the heir at birth because his father was the last king of the South.”

Holtman recalled his visit to the Trisen palace after completing the ash tree pilgrimage. At that time, the Southern king had only a young princess. Prince Joseph was born five years later during the war. At four, he lost his right to the throne. He grew to become the lord of Trisen, only to meet a tragic and sudden death at forty-four.

He had been traveling to attend a banquet in the archipelago.

Joseph Perbrante’s ship was a massive vessel capable of carrying five hundred passengers. The ship, carrying the lord, his wife, and the heir, sank in the waters before the archipelago. Though two hundred guards were aboard to protect the lord, there was nothing they could do as the ship went down.

Hundreds of people sank beneath the waves. No one on board survived.

And thirteen years later, the world had almost forgotten those who had gone under.

“Priest.”

The old man, lost in thought, lifted his drooping eyes. They met the bright green, bead-like eyes of Lorelia.

Among the lord’s three children, Lorelia possessed the clearest soul. Since childhood, she had been exceptionally curious and compassionate. But the purer the water, the easier it is to taint; the calmer the surface, the more even a single leaf can ripple it. Holtman understood why the lord wanted to keep his youngest daughter safely within the castle.

“Speak, child.”

“If the gods favor Trisen so, why did they allow such a tragedy to befall its people?”

The boy who had been born a crown prince but never became king had died suddenly, leaving Trisen to face a new lord. A twelve-year-old boy who had lost his parents and brother at once. A child who closed the castle gates tightly and hid deep within the mansion. To the new master of the South, the world gave him pitiful titles:

The Hermit of Light. The ill-fated young lord.

“The gods sometimes do things we cannot understand,” Holtman replied, his face gentle.

“They often act in ways beyond human reason.”

This was the best answer a priest could give, and the greatest comfort he could offer.

Mendel Castle, true to a lord’s mansion, was built as a sturdy fortress. Unnecessary furnishings or lavish decorations were not in keeping with the Heyes family tradition.

Lancelot, especially, had simple tastes; even a slight decoration on carpets or curtains made him frown. His wife, Marilyn, was not the type to follow trends at the risk of upsetting her husband.

The noble Heyes family, lords of Mendel, had always been called so.

“Have the gifts for Trisen been prepared?”

An elderly woman in a large armchair blinked. Her thin lips smiled, but her cloudy eyes remained still. Lorelia, sitting opposite her, gently rubbed the old woman’s wrinkled hands as she replied:

“Yes, grandmother. We chose only the best products from our estate—wine, white ermine furs, and silverware.”

“The bow? Our artisans’ bow-making skills are the finest on the continent.”

“Of course, I included them. Father will give them to the duke himself. Duke Perbrante enjoys archery very much.”

Satisfied, the old woman nodded. Catherine Heyes, the lord’s mother, had been blind for about three years due to old age.

“They say he can shoot arrows very far. Father says the Trisen mansion is so large that it even has an archery range in the garden. The regular training range is too short, so a special private range was built for the duke.”

“I see.”

“He also rides horses very well, grandmother. And there’s a huge kennel at the mansion. The lord loves dogs and takes care of them himself. He must be a very kind person to love animals so much.”

“I see. But Lore…”

“Yes, grandmother?”

“What about Sir Ripert? I’ve been wondering about that since this morning.”

Lorelia chuckled softly as she rubbed her grandmother’s hand. Sir Ripert was the protagonist of the storybook she had been reading aloud lately. Every day, Lorelia read to her blind grandmother.

Even though the maids could read, Lorelia never missed a single day. Catherine Heyes’ beloved granddaughter had always been that way—wanting to bring joy to those around her.

“Well, what happened?”

“Child, stop teasing and read quickly. Isn’t it about time Sir Ripert meets Princess Arona?”

Lorelia giggled and exchanged glances with the elderly maid, who nodded and brought the book. Lorelia carefully placed a dried flower she had used as a bookmark on the table, cleared her throat, and began reading.

“And so, Sir Ripert finally reached the witch’s castle. The gray fortress, shrouded in mist, was covered in moss and cobwebs, appearing ominous. Yet the sword of a brave knight shines brightest in darkness.”

Lorelia read in a calm, comfortable voice. She deepened her tone when speaking as the knight, sang lightly for the princess’s lines, and even mimicked the exaggerated tones of the servants to amuse her grandmother and the maid.

She continued through chapter after chapter, never pausing. Finally, she reached the part where the knight rescued the princess trapped in the witch’s castle and returned safely to the kingdom for a grand wedding.

Once she left the castle the next morning, she would be unable to read to her grandmother for some time. So she read until the story’s characters reached their happy ending, wishing that her grandmother would also be happy in her absence.

“I’ll read the epilogue after we return,” she said.

“It’s good that it has a happy ending.”

“I like endings like this too. Where they lived happily ever after.”

Listening to her granddaughter’s clear voice, Catherine smiled gently, her hair pure white like cotton.

“Happiness is like youth. It seems eternal while you have it, but it passes in an instant.”

Her unseen blue eyes traced the air.

“So, child, enjoy it to the fullest—happiness, youth. They will vanish far sooner than you expect.”

The old woman lifted her frail but warm hand, which Lorelia clasped with both hands. After caressing her granddaughter’s small, soft face, the elderly woman slowly pressed her lips to Lorelia’s cheek, inhaling the fragrance of youth.

“Lorelia. My lovely child. Go and return safely.”

Lorelia kissed her grandmother’s cheek in return and carefully placed the dried flower in the bookmark of the happy-ending chapter.

“I will, grandmother.”

She rose lightly from the chair, bowed respectfully to her blind grandmother, and turned to leave. Catherine Heyes listened intently until her granddaughter’s footsteps had completely faded. A golden scent drifted from the marigolds arranged in a vase.