CHAPTER 4
WHAT HAS BEEN LOST WILL NEVER RETURN
Kyoichiiro's consciousness came and went like a cold tide. Between moments of awareness, he felt his body being carried, moving swiftly through damp, narrow corridors. The sound of heavy footsteps echoed in his ears, yet everything felt distant, as if separated by a thick layer of fog. The pain from his wounds was still there, but dulled, overwhelmed by profound exhaustion and shock.
Underground…, he thought vaguely as his sense of smell caught the distinct scent of damp earth, moist stone, and something else—the smell of iron and something acidic. They've taken us underground.
The person carrying him didn't speak a word. Only the steady, hurried steps, turning through branching corridors lit by the sparse, dim light of wall-mounted lamps. Then, the steps stopped. The sound of a squeaking iron gate opening.
Kyoichiiro felt himself being carefully lowered onto a hard surface covered with thin cloth. As his eyes struggled to focus, his vision caught thick iron bars in front, and beyond them—
His heart seemed to stop.
On a simple cot across the small room lay a girl with long, disheveled black hair. Her usually neat clothes were now torn and dirty, her face pale, and her eyes tightly shut. But Kyoichiiro still recognized her. Even in such a state.
Kyoichiiro: (inwardly, voice choked) Sister… Claire…
The knight—the large man in full armor smeared with blood and dust—said nothing. He simply placed Kyoichiiro on an empty cot a few steps away from Claire, then turned. Without a single word, he left the cell, locking the iron gate with a firm clack, and his footsteps quickly faded, swallowed by the darkness of the corridor.
The underground room returned to silence. Only the sound of their own breaths could be heard. Kyoichiiro tried to stay conscious, but his fatigue and wounds pulled him back into darkness. He didn't know how much time had passed—maybe fifteen minutes, maybe more—when a voice, hoarse and panicked, pulled him back to awareness.
Claire: "Brother… Kyoichiiro… Wake up… Please, wake up quickly…"
The voice trembled, almost like a sob. Kyoichiiro mustered all his remaining strength. His eyelids felt incredibly heavy, but he forced them open. His vision was blurry, then slowly cleared.
Claire's face was right in front of him. Her light blue eyes—the same color as his—were filled with a jumble of fear and relief. Her cheeks were wet with tear tracks.
Before Kyoichiiro could say anything, Claire had already wrapped her arms around him, hugging his weak body tightly. Her grip was strong, trembling, as if afraid her brother would disappear if she let go. The tears she had been holding back finally burst—the hard sobs of an eight-year-old girl who had just lost everything and felt utterly alone.
Kyoichiiro was silent for a moment, stiff. An embrace like this… felt foreign. Yet, slowly, he raised his hand and patted his sister's back gently.
Kyoichiiro: "Calm down… I'm here. We're together."
His words were soft but firm, trying to soothe. Claire's crying gradually subsided, turning into small, stifled sobs. She pulled back slightly, her hands still gripping Kyoichiiro's arms tightly, as if making sure he was real.
Kyoichiiro: (looking around the cell) "We can't stay here. This is underground—likely part of the palace's storage or prison system. If we're found, we'll be captives."
He tried to stand, his body still unsteady. Claire immediately supported him.
Kyoichiiro: "We have to leave now. There's an exit. Come on, Sis."
Claire nodded, her eyes still wet but now filled with resolve. Her hand sought Kyoichiiro's and grasped it tightly. The contact provided a small warmth in the coldness of the underground chamber.
They left the unlocked cell—it turned out the gate hadn't been re-locked, perhaps the knight forgot or intentionally left it open. The corridor ahead was dark and narrow. Kyoichiiro led, relying on his vague memory of the route when he was brought in. They turned right, then left, avoiding sources of light that might mean someone's presence.
Suddenly, a pungent smell pierced their noses—a mix of waste, garbage, and decay.
Kyoichiiro: "This must be the waste disposal. Cover your nose, don't breathe too deeply."
Claire nodded obediently, covering her nose with the torn hem of her robe. They kept walking, deeper, until finally they saw an old iron staircase leading upward. At its top, a round iron cover was visible.
Claire: (whispering) "Is that the way out?"
Kyoichiiro: "Most likely. You go first, I'll follow behind."
Claire nodded, then carefully climbed the stairs. Once at the top, she pushed the iron cover. It was heavy at first, but with a strong shove, it slid aside with a creak, and bright light streamed in.
Kyoichiiro followed immediately. When his head emerged above, his eyes were met by a sight he hadn't expected at all.
Not the palace. Not the city. But a tranquil expanse of countryside. Simple wooden houses, green fields stretching out, and a bright blue sky above. They were at the edge of an old well, hidden behind bushes.
Kyoichiiro: (to himself) We're very far from the palace… Who brought us here? I remember the silhouette of full armor… A knight. Was he a loyal palace guard? Or someone who deliberately saved us? And why bring us here?
Those questions swirled in his head, but there was no time to ponder. They had to find a safe place.
Some villagers working in the fields noticed them. A middle-aged man with a friendly face and simple work clothes approached, his expression full of concern.
Middle-Aged Man: "Are you two alright? Your injuries… look serious. What happened?"
Claire was silent, looking down. Kyoichiiro glanced at her, then took the initiative.
Kyoichiiro: "We were attacked by a group of magical beasts in the forest while traveling. We managed to escape, but got lost."
The man noticed Claire's clothes—the uniform of the girls' school from Kyoukoten Academy, still recognizable despite being torn and dirty.
Middle-Aged Man: "That uniform… You're from Kyoukoten, right? I've delivered produce there a few times. A fine school."
Claire remained silent, turning her face away. Kyoichiiro nodded.
Kyoichiiro: "Yes. But… please, keep our presence here a secret from others for now. We need a place to recover."
The man smiled, a warm, sincere smile that eased some of the tension in their shoulders.
Middle-Aged Man: "Of course. My name is Edon. I have a small inn at the edge of the village. You can stay there. As for payment, don't worry about it for now. We can settle it later when you have the means. The important thing now is for you to rest and eat. I guarantee the food is plentiful and good."
He chuckled, and for the first time since the tragedy, Kyoichiiro felt a glimmer of warmth. He glanced at Claire, who finally gave a small nod.
Kyoichiiro: "Thank you, Mr. Edon. We are very grateful."
Edon led them through the village. Along the way, he chatted.
Edon: "This is a small village called Rimba. No formal leader. We live simply, helping each other. If someone's in trouble, others will definitely help. No need for rewards."
Kyoichiiro observed his surroundings. The villagers they passed smiled warmly or waved, without suspicious or fearful glances. Some children ran around laughing. A peaceful atmosphere that starkly contrasted with the bloody chaos they had just left.
A place like this… truly exists, thought Kyoichiiro. In the midst of a world seemingly full of power and hierarchy, there are corners where people live simply and honestly.
Edon's inn was a simple yet well-kept two-story wooden building. A small garden with wildflowers was in front.
Edon: (opening the door) "Come on, don't be shy. Treat it as your own home."
They entered a cozy living room. Edon urged them to sit on a soft sofa, then hurried to the kitchen. "I'll make something warm. You wait here."
After Edon left, silence fell between the siblings. Claire sat hunched, her fists clenched in her lap. Her gaze was empty, fixed on the floor. The trauma of that night was clearly deeply etched.
Kyoichiiro chose to remain silent. He knew forcing Claire to talk now would only make her withdraw further. Sometimes, shared silence was more comforting than empty words.
Soon, Edon returned carrying a large tray with a bowl of warm soup, fresh bread, slices of smoked meat, and boiled vegetables. The aroma was inviting.
Edon: "Eat as much as you want. Don't be shy. About payment, we'll settle it later when you're back on your feet. But promise me, once you're healed and strong, you must come back here to visit me, alright?"
He laughed heartily, then placed the food on the table. "I have some business to attend to in the back. You two eat in peace."
After Edon left, Kyoichiiro took a deep breath. The food was still steaming hot, its delicious aroma filling the room.
Kyoichiiro: (picking up a spoon) "That man… is truly sincere. Rare to find someone like that."
He began to eat, the warmth of the soup spreading through his weary body. After a few spoonfuls, he nudged the bowl towards Claire and patted her shoulder gently.
Kyoichiiro: "Eat, Sis. Your body needs energy."
Claire didn't move. However, a small, distinct rumble came from her stomach, clearly audible in the quiet room.
Kyoichiiro almost smiled, but held it back. Claire glanced at him, her face slightly flushed, then she flicked Kyoichiiro's forehead softly.
Claire: "You really are something…"
Yet, the flick was accompanied by a small smile, the first since the tragedy. Slowly, Claire took her own spoon and began to eat. At first slowly, then with increasing appetite, as if realizing just how hungry she was.
Behind the kitchen door, Edon stood quietly, observing them through a small crack. The warm smile was still on his face, but his eyes held a glint of sadness and recognition.
Edon: (whispering to himself) "Thank goodness… they're finally eating. But… I recognize them. That girl, Claire Khaneo, daughter of Lord Khaneo. And that boy… must be his rarely-seen younger brother. The Khaneo family… what really happened at your palace?"
He let out a heavy sigh, then turned away, leaving the two survivors who had lost almost everything to enjoy their first warm meal in a place of safety—at least for now.
Outside, the sun shone brightly over Rimba village, as if unconcerned with the grief and loss burdening the hearts of the two newcomers. But here, in this simple place, perhaps they could find a little time to breathe, to heal, before continuing on the inevitable journey towards an uncertain future.