Hyunkel awoke in the night and looked around to see Beatrice awake, gathering the supplies for their journey.
Beatrice: "You're already awake, my lord? You were so tired that you slept for a long while. I thought you might have been dead—or something close to it."
Hyunkel smiled, then noticed a light cloak covering him, carrying the scent of flowers.
Hyunkel: "Thank you for your care, Lady Beatrice. I'm truly grateful for all your efforts on this journey. Is there anything I can do to repay you?"
Beatrice turned her eyes away from Hyunkel as she arranged their things, trying to hide her reaction to his words.
Beatrice: "Don't worry, my lord. I need nothing."
Hyunkel watched her for a moment as she organized the books—then, before turning his head away, he heard the sound of a growling stomach.
He laughed, for he knew it wasn't his own.
Beatrice blushed.
Beatrice: "That wasn't me! I think someone outside made that sound, my lord."
Hyunkel: "Don't worry, Lady Beatrice. I'm quite hungry myself after all that work. How about we take a stroll through Arcia before we return?"
Beatrice smiled faintly, surprised by his sudden offer.
Beatrice: "Very well, my lord. I've been wanting to see Arcia again—we've been cut off from it for so long."
Hyunkel threw the books out of her hands playfully and pulled her toward the door.
The girl giggled softly, and the young man grinned widely.
They slipped past the sleeping guards and soon stood gazing upon the towering lands of Arcia—its magnificent architectural ruins still beautiful despite their decay.
They climbed over rugged terrain, through courtyards and old houses, passing the abandoned factories where the remaining people of Arcia lived—sick, wounded, and hopeless.
They entered one such factory.
The place was shattered and ancient, its blacksmith tools and resources long plundered.
Those who lived there were the broken remnants of a once-proud city.
Hyunkel saw a man sitting alone by a fire. Before he could speak, the man suddenly stabbed himself in the throat—ending his life.
Hyunkel quickly covered Beatrice's eyes. Near the fire lay the emaciated body of a woman dead from starvation, and beside her, a child shriveled from thirst.
The child's skin clung to his bones, his skull visible through thin, paperlike layers of flesh.
A man approached them, bruised and malnourished, and said weakly:
"Do you want these corpses? Are you going to eat them?"
Hearing that, Hyunkel understood how dire things had become in Arcia.
He handed the man some coins.
Hyunkel: "Bury your dead with dignity, good sir. In Artia, we labor for a deliverance that is near."
The man wept with joy, and Hyunkel smiled at the sight of hope returning to his face.
Soon, more people gathered, asking for money. Hyunkel gave until his purse was empty.
A frightened woman said:
"My lord, we're not allowed to leave this place. Could you buy food for us instead?"
Hyunkel: "Every poor soul of Artia shall eat from my wealth today."
The people followed him from the crumbling factory, and soon all of Arcia's poor came behind him. Hyunkel gave the deeds of his lands in Artia to the innkeeper that night, so he might feed Arcia's starving people.
Rain poured heavily from the sky.
Hyunkel rejoiced—but he also wept.
He saw the people eating with joy—children smiling, strangers sharing their food.
He was deeply moved, yet heartbroken for his nation's suffering.
Beatrice wiped his tears with her handkerchief, and only after he calmed did they begin to eat as well.
They spoke for a long time that night.
After their hunger was sated, they wandered through Arcia until they reached its highest hill—where the statue of Apollo stood.
Hyunkel sat beneath the rain, gazing happily over the city, and Beatrice beside him.
Hyunkel: "Beatrice, do you remember when we graduated from the academy? We held our honors celebration right here."
Beatrice: "It feels like yesterday. You were so thin back then, my lord—worse even than the poor here."
Hyunkel laughed.
Hyunkel: "You still remember that? Well, you weren't much better—you were the spoiled noble girl. You spent your time having fun with the students, but your grades were terrible."
Beatrice frowned slightly, recalling it.
Beatrice: "I still remember how the teachers scolded me constantly. I ignored them—I hated studying. But I did it for my father's sake. I only started truly studying during our final exams. I'd never set foot in the library before and had no idea what to do—until you appeared, my lord."
Hyunkel smiled and closed his eyes as the memories came back.
Hyunkel: "You were searching for books on economics and mathematics, not knowing where to begin. I suggested the ones that avoided needless sophistry. I remember—you dropped them when I handed them to you, and I ended up carrying them all the way to your home."
The rain ceased.
A glowing nebula shimmered above them, lighting the night of their meeting.
The air grew cold, and the night sky over Arcia gleamed with radiant colors.
Beatrice looked at the book in her hands with dark, thoughtful eyes.
Beatrice: "I still keep the copy of Principles of Mathematics and Economics you gave me that day, my lord. I thought you were foolish at first—but after all you taught me, you became the model I aspire to follow."
Hyunkel: "And you, Lady Beatrice, are the only person I've ever met with such sharp wit and unmatched intuition. Your love for knowledge and books proved you're someone to be relied upon."
A star streaked across the sky before their eyes.
Beatrice placed the book on the ground beside Hyunkel, and both reached to touch it.
Together, they said:
"Thank you."
At that same moment in Artia, the blind bard Lauk finished his song beneath the nebula's glow.
He had been playing his lyre since morning—ever since he smelled the scent of blood at dawn.
It was the blood of Diogenes and several unknown men at the library's doorstep.
Diogenes sat alone, covered in wounds, leaning on his sword—surrounded by five slain enemies.
He had asked his blind friend to play for him one final melody, so that he would not die in silence.
Diogenes: "Play song for me, my friend—something to ease my death. Let it follow my soul until it strikes the clouds of heaven."
Lauk held back his tears and played from dusk until dawn.
His music filled all of Artia, until his fingers bled and split between the lyre's strings.
When Hyunkel returned at dawn, the townsfolk told him Diogenes was dead—but he could not believe them.
He drove anxiously back to the library, Beatrice asleep in the carriage.
When he arrived, he saw the blind man standing before Diogenes' lifeless body.
Diogenes had leaned upon his sword and taken his final breath hours earlier.
The blind man turned toward Hyunkel.
Lauk: "Hyunkel… the scent of blood fills this place. Whose blood is it?"
Hyunkel fell silent, struggling for words as tears overtook him.
Lauk: "They told me it was Diogenes' body, but I didn't believe them. I waited for you to tell me if what I fear is true."
Hyunkel could only weep.
The people of Artia gathered around; even the Atlassian guards were moved to tears.
They put on their helmets—not for battle, but to hide their sorrow.
Hyunkel: "At dawn, Lauk… there was an attempt to assassinate you. Diogenes fought with his last breath to protect you, and he died of his wounds. The man lying before you… is Diogenes."
Only then,
the blind man wept.
To be continued.