10 years ago
"... hey, really this way..."
"Let's go home... absolutely not good. My mothers will piss me off...
The boys, they walk.
The boys, most of them less than ten, set their feet on a dark night lane as they wandered. Scary, brother, let's go home, I exchanged words with those who wanted to move on and those who wanted to go home, and still kept moving on.
The younger, five-year-old, oldest and ten-year-old boys snuck out of the house in the middle of the night. They were brought in by the oldest to see if the rumors among the city's children were true. It was headed out of the country, another city away from the city where they lived. Sixty percent of scared boys and thirty percent of intrigued boys follow up with me saying they don't like being out of company. And there's a boy who's neither.
"Hey, I'm scared of Style."
... one.
The seven-year-old boy, with dark hair and black eyes, turned his face to the near-old boy, who had hung his words. As everyone changed their expression to fright and curiosity, only Stayle followed them with no expression.
"I'm scared... but I care. Hey, how long will it take?"
Style tosses, choosing words that tell him not to turn either of them to his enemies as much as possible.
To be honest, it was a style I wasn't really interested in rumors, but I was crossing with a boy expedition as a result of a relationship and a friend who wasn't here asking me to represent him. I was more concerned about my promise to go to the market with my mother tomorrow morning than about the veracity of the rumors.
On a seemingly flat style, a throwing boy said, "Yep!," he mourns. A nine-year-old boy and a ten-year-old boy laughed as they seemed to enjoy the reaction.
"It's silly! I'm not scared of the style."
"Sooooooooooooooooooooooo! If we find him, we'll talk to the girls tomorrow too!
With that said, the oldest repeats once again to make him speak and listen to the purpose of tonight.
Speaking in a horrible voice as if to make him hear a suspicious conversation, the youngest boy was frightened and seeped tears from now on, and the boy of his age close to the style also dazzled with fright and excitement.
Rumors spread to the children of the city were, in a nutshell, "moonlit monuments". The sole fact that one boy came home late with his parents and saw him as he was walking on a lunar night was such that no one knew him better than the children of the city of Style.
............ Rather, what if I find nothing?
If we can find him, we can go home soon after. But if we don't find it, even if we get to our destination, the search will continue from there. It was imperative that it should take extra time.
Style reticently thinks as he itches his teeth about the slowness of his legs in the group.
I feel like I've already walked quite a bit since I left. Saying you remembered an errand, you can't go home on your own. It's a place I've never been alone, and I don't know the way extra at midnight. I'm just worried that I'll take so long and be able to make it tomorrow morning. I like to play and adventure with them, who are also friends, but I didn't even want to worry about my mother, who was raising herself by herself by herself after losing her father.
Hey, what's up? and one of my friends called out. They don't care about the style that doesn't change his expression as a friend, but only now I couldn't tell if he was really scared just because he was strong. Make a conscious smile and show "nothing" to a friend who worried me. I don't want to say anything that would destroy the air right now, such as wanting to go home because my mother worries. That's why instead, Style speaks out about another thing he had in mind by the time he got here.
"I just... I don't know what I would do if that monster was really crowded.
Hiccup and now most of the boys leak their voices and drink their breath.
Grabbing. In the kingdom of Friesia, a country of special abilities, there were so many attachments as to meet bandits in the mountains. Because of the castle town, they live in a relatively safe place than others, but it was always told to the adults. Be careful, watch out for adults you don't know, and never get too close to the back streets, lower classes, or out of the country at night.
But what we're walking on right now is a nocturnal road without a crowd in the middle of the night. Besides, the direction is by the street heading out of the country. It was like a boy who walked less than ten times and said please take it home to the crowd.
He led them, and the only two-digit age, the 10-year-old boy, understood only the horror, and the light in his hand shivered slightly. In fact, there were not many people in the city who thought they had been harmed.
Styles that can use instantaneous travel can escape by diving through the grasping hands if they are medium or close. But not the rest of them. Because there's no way a child can beat a back-run adult.
The ten-year-old boy himself, a leader among the children, has no special abilities. Even if it looks good, "I'll kill you!" It wasn't even reckless enough to say.
And at the same time, I wasn't even strong enough to be able to say "I knew I'd go home" here.
"Yes, it's okay! I picked it up in the carriage with my dad at noon, but there was a private house nearby, and there were plenty of people!
Look! We're almost there! and the ten-year-old pointed to his destination. It was true that there, in the dark, what looked like a building appeared to be lit by the moonlight. There's a private house, and if he's right, people live there. I was relieved if I thought it would be good to stick it in there if anything happened.
Let's get out of here! and the boys speeded up their legs as they approached the private house they could see. It was stronger to ensure safety and a desire for peace of mind than destinations and rumored monsters.
Style also rushed out with relief at the bottom of his heart that their feet were faster. Just a little bit more, and then you can go home right away, whether something happens or not. Is it true that this is a place close to the road out of the country
"... dude. What are you doing, Temehe and others?
Suddenly, a voice I didn't know was released.
Everyone's shoulders bickered up and down to that voice that reached everyone in the boys. My legs stop at the same time to much surprise, my breath stops, and I turn my face towards my voice before I show it to you.
Style also turned his face in the same way they did. To that voice, which I dared to lower, I imagined the grabbing of the man I had said to myself, and opened my eyes to the figure of the Lord of the voice.
"How dare a kid walk on a night lane at such a time... are you being kidnapped?
There was a young man there shaking his long silver hair.
From the direction they were headed, the boys shook their lips and blued their faces at the young man who slowly walked over. He couldn't even see his face, and his hair lit up in the moonlight and his shoulder-borne beam glowed sharply. Though not as tall as adults, youths taller than the oldest ten were a sufficient threat to them.
Every time we walk, our silver hair shakes, and the lights of the moon reflect on us as if we were being directed at each other. My legs were gushing and trembling, and my youngest child had tear eyes. Boys retreating one step at a time trying to distance themselves from the youth, but the youth's stride was greater than that. "Are you listening?" To the young man approaching, asking, "the oldest boy leaves behind to spread his hand and push to protect his companion. And...
"Run, run, run, run."
Shouting like that as far as power goes, he runs back on his heels all at once.
My brother or oldest runs away with his youngest child in his hands, pounding, and screaming. Style imitated them, too, and ran out with his footsteps in alignment. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," the young man yelled, but no one turned around. Running out grumpy to be pushed by fear, he turns his feet desperately forward and forward. Changes in the direction of travel make the beginning and rear tail opposite, and furthermore, the length and speed of the feet are different. As the fast-paced boys rush, the style that was in the middle is sandwiched by the oldest with the slow-footed boy and the youngest. He was pushed from behind naturally, nearly hit the previous child and stuck his leg, and the next moment he fell out of balance.
They did not trample on me later, but instead they put me at the rear of the line in an instant. "Stayle!" the oldest and friends noticed, looking back, but as soon as they did, they screamed again. When you look at it, the silver young man who was supposed to be standing there was rushing out here at an awesome speed.
Shit! Style screamed, but all the oldest can't move with the youngest child in their arms. After a moment of hesitation a friend of mine from a close year to Stayle tried to go help, but the young man had faster legs than that.
The style stays tumbled down, with muddy arms attached and just a look back at his neck. The young man, who has rushed in releasing the oxen, is still in the eyes of the style, no matter how he sees it.
It was just, it was human.
"Hey! Are you okay?"
The young man, who had run in worried about his fallen self, gave him a hand as soon as he came to his sight. Thank you... and thank you. Style stands on his knees, but the pain runs along the way.
Style had a bad feeling and when he looked at his feet, blood was seeping out of his knees. The mud and sand on the ground is mixed with the wound and the blood is blackened.
"Huh...
"I don't know what to do. I don't care. I don't care."
Noticing a painful style, the youth yelled at the oldest who had stopped on their feet. The oldest will be unable to say anything about the horror of their first impressions and, above all, the feeling that they have taken Style hostage. Then he called out to them as Stile wrapped his wound around him to cover it with his hands.
"It's all right! Because this brother is probably a normal person. I don't think it's crowded.
Ahhh and a young man who realizes he was being treated like a human being raises his voice.
Staring at Guillot and his oldest from under his long hair, he said, "Temeh, come here a minute!" He called out. The boy, who unloaded the youngest once on the spot, walks over in horror. Still frightened of the young man while he spoke to Steele to see if he was okay. Then the youth stood up in large measure
Gong! And slapped his fist down the boy's head.
"Temehe! He took the kid in a bad time, and he came over here."
I don't see it around here. Isn't it just your face? A young man yells as he points at the boys.
The battered boy also felt as soon as the young man was relative to himself and a near-old child and raised his voice as he held his head down. In the next moment the boy also grabbed up the chest of the young man, and the young man likewise grabbed the chest of the boy and responded.
The other boys also bothered the two who would be in a totally imminent state of war. Wait, wait! And the other kids raised their voices, and they all finally rushed over to the side of the style. Putting aside a young man who cares about the injured style, the youngest boys hold the two together. In the meantime, the two people who beat each other up were like, "Which one of us is here?" "Tell me." "What are you doing here?" "We're on our own!," the brawl continued for a while.
"... I can't believe it. Temehe and the others go home quickly. I'll send this kid when I can handle the injury.
The young man, who calmed down after beating each other all the way, lent his back to Steele as he pounded his tongue.
The style grabbed onto the young man's back, promptly understanding what it meant to be a mole. I can't walk, but it takes time to walk with scratches and muddy feet.
Other boys tried to follow the young man who told him the house was right there, but he refused. "Just give them back to the house," said the young man, pointing at the youngest children with his chin, standing up with a stile on his face.
I can barely see my face with long silver hair, but I somehow figured out that the oldest boys beat each other up that I wasn't a bad guy. Above all, Stayle herself said, "It's okay, I'll see you tomorrow," so they had no choice but to head home. Because they must also lend a hand to the youngest, and they must abound. After breaking up with his friends, Stayle turned her back on them while the young man mocked her to heal the injury.
"... sorry. But I didn't mean to come...
"I know.... If I walked this late at night, I wouldn't know.
Put your hands on the shoulders of the youth, lurk your voice and apologize. Style gets a glance.
Then the young man's long hair fell on his face, waking up his body only slightly and turning his back.
The young man walked to the abandoned bamboo and grabbed the bamboo with his other hand as he supported the weight of the style with one arm. He used his lower arm from his wrist to support the style of his back again, pulling the scabbard with his hands alone as it was.
"... were you even working in the field?
"Oh dear. I can't plow during the day because the store is busy lately.
From the time the youth showed up, Style, who knew he would be an ordinary person, was not greatly surprised by the shovel. I could also afford to wonder if it was farm work even from dirty clothes and outfits.
The young man sighed with his shoulders as he slowly walked to the house. "That son of a bitch, you punch me in the head," he throws to the steer again, offending the oldest boy.
"In n? Why did you kids come all the way here?
"........................... maybe to see your brother.
Ha, ha, and the young man only looks back at his face and raises his voice. Speaking of which, Style continued the conversation with a slightly sorry voice.
"There are rumors that there will be monsters around here in our city. At night of the month, a silver fuzzy carbide appeared and said he was digging a hole.
Furthermore, there was a tail under the hole to rumors that it was buried a corpse full of treasures. The young man muttered slightly shocked as he exhaled softly and lowly into the story of Stayle, "Don't hurt me..." It's more damaging that way than the carbide.
"No... I'm just plowing a field. Eh, even if it's not the moon and night.
Listening to the youth, I think that Stayle probably just couldn't see him at midnight without being lit by the moonlight.
I'm sorry, and the youth returned it in one word to Style, who apologizes again. When asked again what city he was from, Style immediately answered the name of their city.
After the young man raised his voice "from the n" to the name of the city, he murmured that he should have beaten the oldest boy more.
Style was a little concerned and asked about the age of the youth, but he was just the same age as the oldest boy. I was just a little surprised by the style I thought was one or two years old above due to my body and tall height.
"... well, I worked out. …… farming… at work.
Bozo... and at the end of the day it also seemed to contain somewhere a young man whining to add.
The young man's house has been really right there since he carried the style.
It's close to where we were headed. The young man, who once unloaded the steal in front of the house, made him wait once to "get the pills and stuff now" and go inside the house. Stile looked around as he lowered his back to the nearby stump. Now by the field on the back, but the front was a nestled house like a small restaurant. On the side of the field, moreover, there is a great path, and I wonder if perhaps the witness who was the source of the rumor saw it from there.
The young man, who went inside the house without lights, soon returned with a leather bag of water and bandages and medicines. Even though it should be his own house, the young man who came out of the house without making a single sound like a thief looks at the style he sat on the stump.
After washing his injured knee off with water, the young man applying medicine to the wound and wrapping the bandage looked quite used to it. I also thought the bandage was huge, but Style rethinks whether it would be good if I hid it in my pants because my mother wouldn't even notice it. Looking at the young man's hand as he gazed into the moonlight, there were many after blood beans and rubbing off. I also wonder if he needs a bandage more.
"... I'm just going to wake up my dad because he's home right now. My father is a knight, so... there are horses, and you're safer there.
A low, slightly depressing voice is released from the youth. Zero to the youth's words, but unaware, the youth stood up to return home again. Stayle said it in a panicked voice, "Wait, wait...!" Raise your voice. Stand up, grab the youth's arms and pull back.
"I have trouble getting knights to know..." Maybe the adults will know about everyone else as well as me. Besides, I don't want to worry or bother my mother...!
Please! and raised his voice, Style desperately frowned and created a troubled look to show. The young man looked at the face suspiciously and said, "Is that true?" He asks back. For a young man who discerns a person's repaired face, the daring look of the style appears frigid, even though it is conveyed that he is desperate.
"Please, my mother will definitely have trouble letting the knight's hands slip at such a time...! I'm okay with the injury now, and I'm going home alone.
Saying so, Style puts his hands off the arms of a young man. Sorry to interrupt, but this time the young man pulls back on the style of running and trying to chase his friends. No, you're in danger! I grabbed Stile's arm as I said, but as soon as I did, I was slipped through with instant travel. The style, which moved momentarily about two meters ahead, runs out intact without looking back. I haven't even left my friends much yet, and I hurried my legs that if I hurried, I might be able to rendezvous between the main roads.
A young man who rounded his eyes on the special ability to travel the first moment he saw it, but as he soon realized, "You're staying!," he ran out.
Styles that can only travel momentarily at close and medium distances have slower legs than youths, even without injuries. That's why we definitely opened our distance with short and instantaneous travel to escape. Reached from the long main road to the divide, the once stopped style,...... consolidated.
There was no light on the night lane, and I couldn't confirm the appearance of my friend when I saw either of the divides.
"............... what shall we do?
I don't know the way any further. You can't choose your way cheaply either. I still think I'll give up and go back, but I shook my head to the side myself. Maybe the young man earlier is already waking up his father and heading this way. Stayle definitely didn't want her mother to know she'd gotten out of the night.
But I don't even know how to get home. When I was thinking about relieving myself of what to do, there was an inadvertent sound coming from behind me.
Stile was still convinced that his father had come to the sound and looked around to hide somewhere. But there is nowhere to hide. With a little bit of a cry about the lack of escape, if you finally look back physically at that sound that came close behind you, there's...
"... you sent me...
Earlier the young man crossed the horse and was staring at the style from under his long hair.
With his tongue pounding, the young man slapped himself behind his back from the top of his horse on a style that rounded his eyes.
"I borrowed it on my own from my fucking father, so we're in a hurry. You don't want your mother to find out, either.
Style is surprised to think a knight came exactly to the sound of a horse's hoof. The young man, who had been taught how to ride a horse by his father, a knight, had taken his father's horse, which had been connected as soon as the style disappeared, and was chasing the style.
He walks over to the horse as the youth prompts him, a style he tries to ride, but he can't reach his feet. You can't move like you just did, the young man said, but the still young style wasn't confident of fine-tuning enough to move instantly without any shock on the horse. A young man reaches for the style, holding the reins with one hand without a choice. I grabbed at it and the style finally crossed the horse in such a way that I could almost pull it up.
".................. sorry.
Style grabbed the young man's back again as he was rocked by his horse.
"No, I was sudden, too," the young man says to his apology for running away, looking back small. Because of his long hair, he noticed that Style's face was buried and in a mood, clutching his hair behind him and wrapping it up, drooling it back in front.
"... brother, can't you see the front or something?
In the long hair hidden to his face, Stayle finally speaks softly of the doubt. I don't know why he's so stretched out, I don't even think Stile would have heard that if he hadn't even had hair like this, it would have been a monster.
To Style's question, a young man who returns that he's fine because he's used to it doesn't even try to get his forehead up. Grasping the horse's reins with both hands, as the horse gradually increased its speed, the long hair draped forward swayed and swollen. The young man who notices it grabs his hair again and re-lowers it forward.
"Aren't you going to tie or something?
You've probably forgotten the bracketed string, and thrown it around thinking so, and now you didn't get an immediate response. After only the sound of the horse's hoof and the sound of cutting the wind continues, I finally get a small response when Style wonders if I could have heard it.
"................................................. no.
Blurry, Steele twisted her neck in a voice that seemed to disappear.
Unlike my attitude just now, I wonder if it is also thoughtful of any long hair for that childish weak voice and words that seem to correspond to the year.
More than that, Style, who somehow felt drawn to the young man who kept his horse running silently without a response, throws it at the young man again.
"It's amazing how your father is a knight. I'm very jealous because I don't have a father.
…… ... Oh no.... Father "is amazing.
I should have praised him, but he only returned a flat voice with dark colors again.
So he remembered that the young man had just called his father "the fucking father," and realized he wasn't close. Wrong words again, change the subject thinking. My friend won't catch up with me after running so much, when I said, because a young man told me that a horse would be faster this way, and that it was probably another way.
"... your mother,... what kind of person?
On the contrary, to the young man who has thrown the topic, Stayle is relieved in his heart.
The conversation continued, and I returned the words "very sweet," and continued my mother's story. I never got tired of talking about my mother, who was also proud of me. Besides, the young man kept listening as he hammered. After a while, I wrapped up the words when I thought that Style had spoken too much. Then the youth cut the word "n then" once and looked back to the smaller and steeper. Pale eyes hidden in long silver hair enter the eyes of the style only for a moment.
"You tell your mother that properly.... before you can do it.
You think you like gratitude, respect? And Style had a chest ache for some reason in the words of a young man who sounded sad everywhere. I asked the mother of the young man, but she was alive. I can't help but ask why you say that sadly, hearing that you're not unfriendly either.
Then the young man opened his mouth before Style asked. Without looking back, only the voice flows into the style, staring only in the direction of progress.
"No matter how much I think or live,...... because suddenly I can't say it again.
………
I don't know yet.
For some reason the young man, who was only three different from himself, felt terribly grown up in the style. On a daily basis, he was one of the few opponents for Style who felt more grown up than the children around him. I wondered if maybe he really wasn't a person in the world, but from the back of a young man who turned his arm from his back, he did feel the temperature of a person.
"... may I come back next time?
When the sun is rising. And the youth said no to a word "come on" to the asking style. Style, who was too lightly turned down and still wondered if he was angry about the inconvenience, tied his mouth to the words of the next young man.
"If you're coming, come when you're old enough to come alone Temehe. You don't want to worry about your mother again.
Sure, it was true.
But when I go so far alone, I don't think that's at least acceptable until I'm the same double-digit age as the youth I am today. It will take three years, and you will be instantly answered, "Then it's three years from now."
Feeling as if she had been successfully turned down, Stayle is a little childish and infidel. While the table was faceless, this one also threw a true argument at the youth.
"Three years later,...... are you sure your brother is still in that field?
………………
Three years later. In other words, the young man is thirteen. In some houses, it's not strange for boys to go and earn money. If the father of the young man is a knight, it is also possible that he is moving within it to the King's Capital closer to the castle with his family. With that in mind, once again a long silence was returned by the youth.
In an overly long silence, Style let his gaze swim again and again. I think it has become a sight that I feel gradually familiar with, looking at the moonlight and lighted scenery. Yay, Style relieved as compared to the moon still glowing loosely as it was my city. Now you can go home without worrying about your mother properly.
Face out of the young man's back, looking forward, the city was almost there. Then again, a disputed little voice was zeroed by the youth.
".............................. you must be Yin... All the time,.................. all the time,... over there.
That was more like talking to myself than giving it back to me. Style responded silently to that voice, which also sounded as if one person was desperate.
As the horse slowed down and dived through the city entrance, Stayle rang out, "That's good enough," he said. Now using instantaneous travel, the style, which landed pompously on the ground, looks up at the young man who remains on the horse.
"Thank you for your help. Thank you so much. One day, … I will definitely go to thank you in three years.
Make a smile from yourself with a smile and show appreciation. I felt a little smoke, but I could see a heartfelt grin, and the young man returned the words, "Oh no."
Goodbye, and Waving Steel ran to his house without looking back. After hearing the sound of the horse's hoof, which gets farther at the end, we reach the front of the house. Then we use instant travel to dive into the house without using the door and finally into the bed.
I had to sleep right in preparation for tomorrow morning. With my eyes closed, … I realized I missed hearing the young man's name.
Three years from now, if we really meet. Style fell to sleep alone, hoping he seemed happier then.
……
3 years later
"Please don't be nervous, it's just me and you here.
First Prince, Stale Royal Ivy
"... that, respectful or good... I'm not even the first prince who can use me... and... Lord Arthur..."
Knight Commander Son, Arthur Beresford
"Then I don't need a word of respect or honor. Lord Arthur is much older than I am, and let's not have any respect for each other. And..."
At Style's Auditorium, he cut words once to Arthur, who could not hide and solidify his confusion. After a burning little silence, Style put up his sword lightly, and willingly... laughed.
"You told me normally three years ago, didn't you? hair (...) m (...) k (...) j (...) et (...) 's (...) o (...) brother (...) n (...)? (...)"
Ha... Ha.
It wasn't until two seconds later that the style would be slashed on Arthur, who would no longer be able to finish.