ARC I: Where a Child Drifted
Chapter 4 — Voices Outside the Tent
It was already night, and I was still sleeping soundlessly inside the tent.
I heard a sound while I was asleep. It wasn't loud, but it was sharp—something I couldn't quite put my finger on.
I wanted to sleep more, but it kept coming, so I curled myself tighter and tried to ignore it.
On the other side, where the sound was coming from—
The person who was driving the carriage was near the campfire, cooking dinner. He wore glasses and the kind of clothes a merchant would wear, along with a thick coat.
The man who had opened the curtain earlier and the woman were sitting facing each other in front of the fire.
The man was only a little shorter than her, just by a few inches. He wore a thick coat made of animal skin and leather boots suited for winter snow. It oddly matched his black eyes and brown hair.
The woman, on the other hand, wore only a thin long coat and leather boots. With her slightly darker skin, black hair, and black eyes, she sat there silently.
The driver stayed focused on cooking, as if he couldn't see what was happening around him.
The two of them were arguing as they sat near the fire. The situation was growing heated.
Despite her height, he stood like a stone wall—unshakeable in front of her. All she could do was listen.
"How can you make a child cry when he just woke up after more than eighteen hours?"
He pointed toward the tent beside the fire.
"Did you even notice his blue hands? If he hadn't woken up then, he might never have woken up again. Do you even understand what was happening?"
His voice grew louder with every word.
She sat there without saying anything, clutching her hands and staring at the ground, as if she might find something there.
"What were you doing when we agreed you would keep an eye on him, and I would stay at the front looking for dangerous enemies or monsters?"
He gestured sharply as he spoke, his voice like a knife piercing her ears.
"I know you're careless and reckless—but not to this extent."
His voice slowed and lowered.
"I expected more from you. At the very least, more than this."
He looked away.
Something shifted in her. She looked at him, fully aware of what she had done.
"Do you know how hard the fight was for me?" she shouted back, her voice echoing through the forest for the first time.
"I lost a friend in that fight too. I fought until my last breath before it was over."
She pointed toward the carriage as she spoke.
She took a long breath.
"I was exhausted from the fight. I also had the last night shift before that. It was already difficult just to open my eyes after the battle."
"I admit I was wrong to leave him like that—but I couldn't even keep my eyes open at the time."
"Do you expect me to be a golem or something?"
"I'm human too. I need rest."
She could no longer contain her emotions.
"It doesn't matter that I'm a warrior who fights with my hands and has more stamina than a normal person."
Her voice slowed as the words left her mouth.
"I would still be exhausted after facing my own death head-on."
Her head lowered as she stared at the ground by her feet.
She was breathing heavily, out of breath.
He stood there silently, knowing he had gone too far this time.
The driver didn't stop cooking and continued stirring the pot.
I, on the other hand, was inside the tent, watching them—
unable to understand anything.