Chapter 3 - Red Eyes
Just like Marjorie said, lunch was a soup with chunks of meat in it.
He wasn't sure what kind of meat it was, but the savory flavor made it delicious.
"Are you getting used to the work now?"
"Well… I guess. Whether I like it or not, it has to be done, so I just do it."
Marjorie shook her head as if disappointed by his answer.
"That's not what it looks like. Everyone's saying how clean the chapel is lately, and you're getting tons of praise."
"I used to do work like this before."
"Work like this?"
"Yeah. Cleaning, scrubbing, laundry—the usual stuff, you know."
He didn't bother mentioning that he'd done it at an inn. He knew that just because someone said they'd worked, it didn't necessarily mean anything good.
"Must be nice. I haven't changed at all in a whole year."
"Nice… But you can read really well, Marjorie."
"Useless skill. All you really need is to tell the rooms apart by their names. You can do that much, can't you?"
"That's true."
"See? Being good at cleaning is way better, I'm telling you."
"Is it?"
I'd never really thought about it, so I wasn't sure.
"I'm telling you, it is. Sometimes you can be so clueless, Lawrence. When I went to get you earlier, you were just grinning to yourself."
"I had a good reason for that."
"I bet. Must've been really satisfying to scrub away all that grime, huh?"
It was too much trouble to deny it one by one. Instead of replying, Lawrence just took a bite of bread.
Maybe because he and Marjorie were the same age, they'd quickly grown close.
They got along well, and Marjorie was the only one in this wide monastery Lawrence felt comfortable speaking casually with.
With the other two workers, he'd barely gone beyond saying hello.
Joan and Edith.
Since there was a bit of an age gap with both of them, it was hard to strike up a conversation.
But if you asked whether things were awkward between them, that wasn't really the case, either.
"Should I teach you a few tricks next time?"
"Tricks?"
"Cleaning tricks. Like how to get the windows really clean, and how to keep your back and wrists from getting sore while you wipe things down."
"Seriously? That'd be great for me!"
Marjorie's eyes sparkled.
"But in return, you have to teach me how to read."
"You know how to read and write, too."
"Compared to you, it's nothing. When I hear the prayers in the chapel, I can't actually tell what they're saying."
"Oh… That's what it was? All right. If it's words the Order uses all the time, I'm basically an expert. Just leave it to me and don't worry."
The girl's smile was dazzling.
Marjorie often lamented that she'd grown up in an ordinary village and ended up in an equally ordinary monastery.
But Lawrence wondered if such an unspoiled face could only be born from that kind of environment.
That was it.
It was a look a boy could never have.
After he learned how to read, he picked up the habit of cleaning in front of the chapel.
It was simply much more enjoyable to clean while listening to the prayers than just wiping things down in silence.
Hymns dedicated to the Goddess.
Sacred songs offered up to the Goddess.
There might be slight differences, but the essence was always the same.
"You're really something else. How did you learn all this in just a month?"
"It's because my teacher's so good."
It was only natural that he learned to read so quickly.
The prayers he heard every day were the best motivation of all. Thirsty for knowledge, Lawrence absorbed everything Marjorie taught him.
He practiced writing in the dirt with a stick. Sometimes, he drew pictures to help him understand. They even gave him tests using dirt from an old flowerpot.
Just like with his studies, Lawrence's magic improved a great deal.
Now, he could summon Shadow from within the depths of a shadow. But the problem was, as soon as he managed to bring it out, it snapped right back to its original form, as if nothing had happened.
What was different? It wasn't like the Shadows he conjured in his dreams. Even the bridges he created across dream-lakes lasted until he woke up.
No matter how hard he thought about it, he couldn't figure out the reason.
…Don't get impatient.
Lately, he'd been getting greedy. Internally, with magic. Externally, with monastery life.
He'd let himself slip into thinking he was someone special.
But that wasn't true. He needed to face reality with a clear mind. He was still Lawrence, an orphan with nothing to his name.
Learning magic didn't change that fact. And even then, he still couldn't properly control his one and only magic—he was barely halfway there.
When his thoughts got that far, he made sure not to get carried away. The prayers drifting out from the chapel quietly worked on the boy's character, whether he noticed or not.
And soon, he encountered his first spring at the monastery.
Life at Saint Charmant Monastery didn't change much.
Lawrence aged another year—he was now fourteen. Not only with Marjorie, but also with Joan and Edith, he could now talk comfortably without feeling awkward.
By now, you could say that he had completely adjusted to life at the monastery.
Maybe thinking it was a good time, Aveline called him over.
"It seems like you're settling in well."
"It's all thanks to your consideration, Sister."
"I appreciate the sentiment, but be sure to offer your gratitude to the Goddess instead."
Aveline didn't need to remind him of that.
Lawrence already understood how deep the faith of the clergy was.
They led frugal and disciplined lives. Even their meals were, for the most part, the same as those served to the monastery's staff.
Attendance at prayer was mandatory. After Mass, they threw themselves into studying doctrine.
Day after day, life repeated like a squirrel running in a wheel. And yet, not a single person ever complained aloud about it.
Marjorie had said she couldn't quite understand the life of a clergyperson.
But Lawrence felt differently. He believed it was exactly because the priests of the Order lived like this that they earned such respect and reverence from the world.
"Starting today, the area you'll be responsible for cleaning will increase."
"Just leave it to me. Is it on the second floor?"
Lawrence hardly ever went up to the second floor. The area where the clergy lived was usually taken care of by Joan and Edith.
"It's the chapel."
"You're not talking about the ceiling, are you?"
"The Goddess Statue and the Stained Glass."
Lawrence momentarily forgot he was in the middle of a conversation and turned around.
The Goddess Statue gazed down at the entire chapel with a gentle expression.
The stained glass depicting the ascension of Goddess Belche was still breathtakingly beautiful.
"May I be the one to clean them?"
"Of course."
Aveline silently nodded.
"Remember this: just as you are watching us, we are always watching you as well."
There was an edge to her words. It didn't sound merely like praise. It was closer to a warning—if he ever did anything wrong, he could expect a punishment befitting the offense.
"They say the areas you're in charge of are always spotlessly clean. I believe you won't let us down this time either."
"I'll do my best."
"Good. I'm entrusting the Goddess to you, Lawrence."
The tools for cleaning the Goddess Statue and the Stained Glass were different.
Instead of an ordinary rag, there was a clean cloth. A bottle contained a transparent liquid through which you could see everything inside.
He started with the Stained Glass.
He'd always thought this way. Sunlight streamed through, spilling beautiful colors all around. But when the stained glass was dirty, it felt like that beauty was dulled and faded.
Lawrence wasn't wrong. He hadn't even cleaned the Goddess Statue yet, but as soon as he finished with the Stained Glass, the chapel felt so much brighter.
Next was the Goddess Statue. Even the material was different from ordinary stone. He was pretty sure Sister Joan had told him it was marble.
How many days had he been cleaning the Goddess Statue?
Behind it, Lawrence discovered something sparkling.
A fragment had fallen between the Goddess Statue and the Stained Glass.
A shard filled with pure white light It was definitely a fragment that had broken off from the Goddess Statue.
His heart dropped to his stomach.
Had he made a mistake?
Did a piece break off because he hadn't cleaned properly?
A wave of terror swept over him at the thought that he had made such a mistake with the Goddess Statue.
But then Lawrence realized something was off. Looking at it more closely, he could tell that the fragment had broken off a very long time ago.
When he compared the missing part of the Goddess Statue to the fragment, he was sure of it. It had been so long that the shapes barely matched anymore.
For now, he decided to keep the fragment and tell Aveline about it the next day.
That night, his dream led the boy to a scene he'd never witnessed before.
At first, he thought he wasn't having the usual dream. The scenery in his dream was so completely different that it made him think that way.
A dark sky.
No sun in sight.
Wherever he looked was overrun by a dense, oppressive forest.
Nowhere was there any sign of the fantastical landscapes he was used to.
He had no idea what was happening.
Trying to collect his thoughts, Lawrence sat down.
So, after mulling things over for a bit, he cast Shadow.
By now, his control over Shadow was perfectly smooth as it climbed up the tree.
Even though he couldn't see it, that didn't matter. He didn't feel as though his control was any weaker, either. If anything, with his sight disconnected, his senses felt even sharper.
The Shadow circled around the tree and returned to Lawrence's fingertips.
Not bad, for a spur-of-the-moment exercise. He liked the fact that he could manipulate it even without a direct line of sight. It was as if Shadow had grown legs, letting him sense what was up there on the tree, and how it moved.
Maybe it was because he'd used it more than usual? A stabbing pain started up near his chest.
But then, thinking about it, something felt off.
This was a dream world. Even when he pushed himself magically here, it never used to exhaust him. Yet tonight, it felt like the same burden as reality—like this wasn't a dream at all.
Was it just in his head? Or was there a reason for it?
He thought carefully about what was different from his usual dreams.
First, there was the location.
Second, it was unusually quiet here.
The fairy friends who were always with him were nowhere to be seen.
Maybe, he wondered, the reason things usually felt easier here was because of the fairies.
Lawrence got up and started walking.
He had no idea where he was supposed to go. Still, staying put wouldn't get him out of the forest.
It was worth a try. But he quickly realized just how naïve that thought had been.
The scenery changed. The gloomy forest lost what little light it had in an instant. The trees took on a sinister appearance. Over the bare branches, not a single leaf remained, and the dark night sky hung overhead.
The ground, which had shimmered with a faint blue, turned to wasteland. It was the kind of barren land you'd see around Hilton Village—the worst kind, rejecting not just the touch of humans but even of animals.
Anxiety churned in his chest.
Thorny brambles replaced the underbrush. The path ahead grew narrower and narrower, carrying an almost palpable sense of warning. And—unless it was just his imagination—he could feel someone watching him.
He was sure he'd taken a wrong turn.
But there was no going back, either. In the end, all he could do was press forward, blindly.
How much time had passed since then? He took breaks here and there to practice Shadow—a total of four times.
That's how Lawrence realized he wasn't alone wandering the forest.
He encountered the inhabitants of the woods. For one, they were nothing like his fairy friends.
At a glance, their silhouettes looked like balls of fur with two little legs sticking out. These furry balls spun round and round, and before he could get a good look, they would scurry off at a surprisingly funny pace.
But there weren't only cute-looking residents. He saw a bat with just one eye, and—unless he was seeing things—a rabbit that seemed to have two heads.
The more he ran into these bizarre forest dwellers, the more his anxiety grew.
Just because this was a dream world, did that mean he was safe? The pain and discomfort he felt using Shadow were real enough. If he got hurt here, could it cause problems in the real world?
He didn't know. Not knowing just made it scarier. Lawrence was fighting fear that seemed to close in on him from all sides when it happened.
The change was sudden.
Clouds of breath hung in the air. A shiver ran through his body. It had become unbearably cold around him.
Someone was approaching.
It wasn't just the sound of footsteps. Trees and thorn bushes parted to the sides as if they had legs, creating a path.
Tap, tap, tap.
A sound like horse hooves grew steadily closer.
A sharp, electric headache struck him. The boy grimaced at the sudden pain just as he came face-to-face with it.
Four legs glided over the ground, each ending in a hoof. Its mane and tail swayed, gleaming with a gloss that put even the traveling merchant's horse to shame.
For a horse, it was strangely handsome—more so than most people.
But that strange sense of defeat didn't last long.
Perched sideways atop the horse, without even a saddle, sat a mysterious figure.
The instant he saw it, instinctively, he knew—
That's no human.
It took a human shape, but it was not a person.
Its clothing was impossible to describe.
From head to toe, it was wrapped in dark red cloth, every inch steeped in a sense of foreboding.
It felt as if bugs had begun crawling through his mind.
The pain was far greater than anything he'd felt pushing Shadow to its limits. He couldn't stand it anymore and brought his hand up to his temple.
From between the fabric where a face should have been, crimson eyes appeared.
One. Two. Three… He caught a glimpse—five in total.
Lawrence barely swallowed his scream. Eyes like a serpent's stared at the boy, then flashed with amusement.
"The path ■■ li■■ ■■ ■■■, lo■■■ ■■■."
He couldn't understand what it was saying. That crawling voice made cold sweat pour down his back.
"Wh■■ ■o y■■ s■■k?"
He couldn't speak. Just standing face-to-face with it made his head throb. As he heard its voice, the world spun around him.
"■■, ■■■■. If y■■ ■an s■■ the p■■h, wi■■ y■■ follow?"
Its tone was ominous.
"S■■■ o■ a■■. I'■■ b■■■■■■ s■■n, I s■■■ld t■■k to y■■." ■■ ■■■ ■■■■ sa■■■■■■ blue. ■■■■■ as a t■■e of h■■t was ■lied ■■■■.」
He felt as if he were about to be swallowed whole by fear. Lawrence, on the verge of collapsing, barely managed to hold onto consciousness. He had a foreboding feeling that if he closed his eyes even for a second, he might never wake up again.
「■■ ■■■ sa■■ ■■■■ ■■ th■ t■ ■■ do■■ ■■■■ is sa■■. If nothing else, ■■ thi■ lif■, I'd h■■e hop■■ you c■■ld ■■■age at least th■■t.」
What could that possibly mean?
A gust of wind blew. The voice with crimson eyes began to fade. The wind swirling around the boy quickly dropped to the ground and vanished.
Lawrence woke from his dream right after that. The faint headache lingering told him that the dream hadn't been a lie.
"..."
He shouldn't have felt any chill. Yet, with his arms wrapped around himself, the boy shivered uncontrollably.
It had been a very strange dream. It wasn't the first time he had confronted fear in a dream.
But until now, that was simply called a nightmare. It was nothing like the fear he had just encountered in this dream world.
Something had changed. Why did I dream something different for once, instead of my usual dreams?
There was only one thing he could think of. Lawrence reached for the object he kept by his pillow.
A fragment that had broken off from the Goddess Statue. Bathed in moonlight, the pure white stone gave off an eerie feeling he couldn't quite place. Strangely, it even reminded him of the same sensation as the cloth that had wrapped around those crimson eyes.
It was still far from morning, but he couldn't bring himself to go back to sleep.
Lawrence got out of bed and began practicing Shadow.
Was it because he clung to it as if running from fear? That day, his Shadow managed to step out from his shadow and walk like a person.
"Tired?"
"I couldn't sleep."
"Why? Did something happen?"
"It's nothing, really."
Lawrence answered Marjorie absentmindedly when she asked if he was all right.
He felt bad, but he just wasn't in the mood to give a proper explanation. His mind was a mess as he thought about meeting with Sister Aveline.
How should I show her the fragment from the Goddess Statue? If I just show it to her, she might get furious. Normally, she would probably assume I accidentally broke the statue while cleaning.
And of course, they'll think it was Lawrence who broke it, since he's the one bringing the piece.
Would things turn out okay if I just told the truth? I wasn't sure. Honestly, I felt anxious.
I knew all too well how Sister Aveline—and the rest of the clergy at the monastery—treated the Goddess Statue.
It would be stranger not to know. If it were about anything else, I felt like they'd judge the situation calmly. But because this was about the Goddess Statue, my unease kept growing.
Still, no matter how much I thought about it all morning, I couldn't come up with an answer. In the end, Mass began in the chapel, and Lawrence found himself facing Aveline with no plan at all.
"Sister. Uh… While I was cleaning the Goddess Statue, I found this."
Unsurprisingly, the look on Aveline's face changed instantly.
"Did you do this?"
"No, it's not that…"
"When I compared the fallen fragment with the broken part of the statue, it seemed like it had come off a long time ago."
Only after she checked the fallen fragment and the damaged area several times did her expression finally soften.
"Thank you for telling the truth. If you had dared to lie, you would have received a punishment fitting the deceit."
Lawrence felt deeply relieved that he had been honest.
Honestly, he had been anxious for nothing, as if he'd been accused, even though he wasn't the one who broke it.
"I'm glad. If I'd gotten kicked out, I wouldn't even be able to go down to the village."
"Is that what you thought?"
"Yes. Um… Was I wrong?"
Aveline shook her head.
"Mercy and love are the foundation of our beliefs. Forgiveness is always part of mercy."
At least I won't be expelled from the monastery. Hearing her say there would have been some other punishment, Lawrence felt a sense of relief.
"Just keep working as diligently as you have been. Don't hide any discomfort you're feeling, and speak up if anything's troubling you—especially matters related to your duties, like today, be honest about them …unless you want to go to the confession booth instead."
"I'll keep that in mind, Sister."
But with that, Aveline turned away.
"Aren't you taking this with you?"
"That's a sacred relic the Goddess bestowed upon you. Continue to work hard, Lawrence."
The broken fragment from the Goddess Statue remained in Lawrence's hands.
He had assumed she would take it back; he never expected to receive something so precious.
But… is it really that valuable?
What truly mattered was the statue itself, not a piece that had broken off from it.
Even so, he couldn't bring himself to throw it away. Aveline's words echoed in his ears.
A sacred relic bestowed by the Goddess. She must believe there's some special meaning in the fact that he discovered it.
Lawrence's face grew clouded as he carefully touched the fragment.
But the bigger problem was his dreams.
What if he met those red eyes again?
There was no denying that his shadow magic had improved since that day.
Yet, it was hard to believe that was entirely a good thing.
It had been a terrifying experience.
What used to be a joyful dream was now consumed by fear. What was even scarier was the fact that people simply can't avoid sleep.
You can escape from reality by running into your dreams.
But in your dreams, there's nowhere left to run.
For a moment, Lawrence was plagued by anxiety and unease. But as he lay down, his eyelids grew heavy.