Chapter 106: The Living Must Carry the Hopes of the Dead
The ceremony was over, and a grand celebration began. It was the dwarves' favorite part, and their presence made the atmosphere even more festive.
Norne came down from the dais and first clinked glasses with the two most distinguished guests, the Dwarven King and the Elven King. Then he made his way to his old friends.
"It's been a long time, Master Dural," he said.
"Indeed," the dwarven master smith said with a sigh, looking at Norne's now silver-white hair. It had only been thirty years, but the young man he had known was now an old man. It made him once again lament the fleeting lifespan of the human race.
"Your Majesty," a voice said from his side. It was Lisa, who had become a renowned mage. Thirty years had turned the little girl who was just beginning to learn magic into a powerful sorceress, now an indispensable part of the new kingdom. "There are still several documents that require your attention tonight."
"Yes, yes. I know."
After he had finished with the well-wishers, in a quieter corner of the viewing platform, Norne finally had a moment alone with Somme.
They stood, mugs in hand, and looked out at the joyous crowd below.
"It goes by so fast, doesn't it, Somme?" Norne's voice held a hint of a sigh. "Thirty years... it's like a dream. I still dream about it sometimes, the five of us..."
Somme was holding a mug of what looked like ale but was actually just juice. Rhodes's magic might have given him a beard, but it hadn't solved his drinking problem. It was just a part of him, something magic couldn't change. He didn't mind. He just pretended to drink in front of others. As long as no one tried to steal his mug, they would be none the wiser. He took a sip and nodded. "Yes. To think we made it through all that... especially the dwarven ruins. The Divine Strike, the goddess... I really thought I was going to die back there."
In the end, the destruction of the dwarven ruins had been blamed on the demons. If the demons hadn't been known to use a Divine Strike, people might have been more inclined to believe it was the Sky-Winged. But since they did... well, it must have been them. As for the Sky-Winged... they were staunch allies. They would never do such a thing. And the ones who knew the truth weren't about to say anything, to protect Olivia. Somme still remembered the Dwarven King cursing the demons for three days and three nights after he had learned the truth. He had been truly devastated.
At the thought of Olivia, he paused. "Miss Olivia... she's guarding that cold and empty Heavenly Kingdom now. She'll never come down again, will she?" The rest of the Sky-Winged had left this world. Olivia was the last. She had sworn to never set foot on this land again. The Sky-Winged race, for all intents and purposes, was gone. In a few thousand years, they would be nothing more than a footnote in history.
"Not unless Rhodes comes back and persuades her," Norne said with a sigh. Both he and Serie had been searching for him for decades, but they hadn't found a single trace. He had already prepared himself for the worst.
Rhodes, the first Great Sage, the one who had taught him magic, the one who had sworn to bring it to all of humanity... was gone, likely having taken the goddess down with him. And if that was the case, then he had to carry on his will.
The one thing Norne was proud of was that he had done a good job so far. He had visited nearly every human settlement on the continent, had gathered them together, and had founded a human nation.
Rhodes... have I done well? he wondered, though he knew he would never hear an answer.
"Where is he?" Somme also sighed, his eyes filled with a sad confusion. "There's been no word at all. Could he really have... with the goddess..."
He couldn't bring himself to finish the thought.
Rhodes's disappearance was a great mystery, and a great regret, for all of them. And because of it, Olivia, having learned the truth, had made her solemn vow.
He looked up at the cheering crowd, as if searching for a familiar face.
"Perhaps," Norne's voice was soft, as if he were talking to himself, "he's somewhere we can't reach, continuing his unfinished journey."
"Perhaps."
There was something else Somme had to say. "Do you have any news about... him?"
Norne wished he could say no, but he couldn't lie. He knew exactly where his friend was, and the knowledge pained him. Rhodes's disappearance had at least left them with a glimmer of hope, but his old friend's fall... it broke his heart.
He should have noticed it sooner, the insidious poison of the false god, corrupting his body and soul. "He... he is..." Norne took a deep breath and forced himself to say the words he had been dreading. "...the Demon King, Asmodeus."
Somme's mug slipped from his hand and crashed to the ground, drawing a few curious glances. But he was too stunned to care.
"Please," Norne said, "keep this a secret. I want my friend to be remembered as a sage, not... not as what he has become." He couldn't go on.
"I understand," Somme said. "The world has lost your friend. There is only the first Demon King, Asmodeus."
"Let's not talk about this anymore," Norne said. "Come, a toast!"
"Is it really a toast if you're drinking juice?" Somme grumbled, but he raised his own mug and clinked it against Norne's. He downed the sweet honey wine in one gulp. The bitter-sweet liquid slid down his throat. He didn't know why the dwarves liked this stuff so much. Perhaps it was just the feeling of relaxation it brought.
But he couldn't let himself relax. The living must carry the hopes of the dead.
(End of Chapter)
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