* * *
“Isa.”
Kaindel rolled a shard of the broken flowerpot between his fingers.
The jagged edge of the pottery left red streaks on his palm.
At some point, he had lost the leather gloves that had been covering his hands as he ran.
The pain from the sharp cuts gradually brought him back to reality, sharpening his dazed mind bit by bit.
He whispered the name he yearned for, chasing after a stranger like it was a habit.
That’s Isa.
The formless voice seemed to insist.
It was only a fleeting glimpse, but he had seen it—the silver glint peeking from under the man’s hood.
The man’s build, the wrist visible beneath the robe, everything belonged to Isa.
It had to be him.
The certainty surged within him again.
When the man turned down an alley, Kaindel followed.
When the man veered right, Kaindel pursued.
He could easily catch up if he wanted to, but something about the way the man trembled like a frightened herbivore held him back.
So, he kept a measured distance, following at a steady pace.
Who could he be, this man who fled in terror the moment their eyes met?
He couldn’t be a stranger.
And if he was frightened, then surely he had something to hide.
But if he wasn’t Isa, then none of this would make sense.
Kaindel’s certainty slowly morphed into a desperate hope.
“Isa. Isa.”
“…”
“This time, I saw you. I saw you clearly. So, come out now.”
Kaindel scanned the clearing where the man had disappeared, searching for any trace of him.
He had seen the man head this way, but now he was gone.
Kaindel stood still, trying to piece together the fragments of reality with the broken pottery in his hands.
Please.
Please.
He muttered under his breath without realizing it.
A man couldn’t simply vanish into thin air.
He hoped—prayed—that this wasn’t just another illusion.
If it were, he wasn’t sure he could bear the collapse this time.
“Please.”
“….”
“Please….”
His murmurs grew louder, shattering the silence of the clearing.
His dazed eyes searched desperately, his expression twisting with frustration.
It wasn’t just his brow that furrowed—every inch of his face contorted, raw emotions spilling out, shattering the mask he had barely held together.
Pressing a trembling hand to his face, Kaindel let out a bitter laugh.
“So, it’s another illusion?”
Was it because he missed Isa so much that he’d imagined it again?
Yet even illusions shouldn’t hurt this much.
At least before, he’d managed to snap out of it more quickly.
A self-deprecating chuckle escaped him.
“Ha… ha-ha… ha… ha.”
Tears threatened to fall.
“Again.”
Again, again, again.
Kaindel pressed down the rising tide of emotion, forcing it back, swallowing it whole.
It left a bitter, suffocating sensation, as if he were choking.
“Was it an illusion?”
He muttered to himself, gripping the shard tightly in his hand.
Blood no longer trickled—it poured from his clenched fist.
The pain didn’t register anymore.
Perhaps it really was an illusion.
A cruel, vivid one.
But then again… could an illusion leave behind a shard of a broken flowerpot?
Amid his habitual self-mocking thoughts, a sudden doubt struck him.
“Isn’t it about time you came out?”
If it wasn’t a hallucination, then did that mean he had truly seen him?
The turmoil that had been surging within him abruptly stilled.
If he had seen him, then what of the silver hair beneath the hood?
The man’s hair was unmistakably grayish.
What did it mean?
Could this really not be another hallucination?
It felt as though the fog clouding his mind had begun to lift.
For a moment, he had been convinced he’d lost track of the man in the clearing, dismissing it as another phantom.
But if it wasn’t an illusion, then everything changed.
It was like finding a clue amidst an impossible puzzle.
Then it happened.
Footsteps.
They weren’t the same as the man’s, but they were clearly someone else’s.
“Over there?”
The realization barely had time to settle before Kaindel was moving again, chasing after the sound.
Once more, Kaindel pursued someone, his body acting on instinct.
Like in a nightmare.
Like before.
But the owner of those footsteps wasn’t Isa.
Kaindel left Aiden Village empty-handed, summoned away by Kerelona after nearly a year of silence.
He couldn’t refuse her, not when it had been so long.
He had to leave Aiden behind, even though he had been so certain he’d find Isa this time.
The disappointment weighed heavily on him.
“Duke Schudelgarten.”
“…You called for me.”
“Are you busy?”
Maybe if he’d searched a little longer, things would’ve been different.
If he’d checked the area around the clearing instead of following the footsteps, perhaps he’d have found something.
There were still unexplored parts of Aiden to check. He could knock on doors if necessary.
But if that man really was Isa, he would probably be planning his next escape.
Shouldn’t he return to Aiden as soon as possible instead of wasting time here?
Lost in thought, Kaindel stared blankly out the window until Kerelona’s voice pulled him back.
Her calm smile deepened as she noticed his attention return to her.
“You look busy.”
“….”
“Let’s talk.”
“Make it quick. I need to leave soon.”
“You look awful. A whole year, and you still haven’t found him?”
“….”
Kaindel clenched his fists at her remark, biting back his frustration.
“I’m still looking.”
It was a polite warning to drop the subject.
Kerelona smirked knowingly, tapping the table with a firm hand.
“I have some information. Don’t you want to know?”
“Information?”
Kaindel hesitated.
“What is it?”
“Before that…”
Kerelona’s smile sharpened as she watched his reaction.
Her fingers drummed on the table with deliberate weight.
“We can’t delay the plan any longer. Can’t you search for Isaac Winter after we’re done?”
“…We’ve delayed this again and again. No more.”
“I can’t keep waiting patiently forever.”
“You’re not waiting—you just can’t do anything without me, can you?”
“What?”
“You need me to pull off your grand scheme. Without me, you can’t move forward.”
From the start, Kerelona hadn’t been waiting for him out of some misplaced generosity.
She needed the Hero for her plans.
With him, the commoners’ resistance would lessen, and the nobles and royal family would assume it was a simple marriage and lower their guard.
When Kaindel pointed this out, Kerelona furrowed her brows as if offended by the accusation.
“Duke, you seem to think you’re more important than you are. The truth is—”
“You once asked how long I could remain a Hero, didn’t you?”
Kaindel cut her off just before the same conversation looped back on itself.
It was a question Kerelona had asked him repeatedly to pull him into her schemes.
Though her motives were obvious, Kaindel hadn’t cared until now.
But her constant disregard for his position had started to grate on him.
“Even a Hero is someone you need, Princess.”
“…”
“So maybe take a better look at the reality. The golden age of a Hero will always fade, but the fact that it existed won’t change.”
As he let out the words he’d been holding back, Kaindel felt a strange sense of release.
“I trust you understand. I’ll take my leave now.”
Satisfied that his pride wouldn’t let her stop him anymore, Kaindel rose to his feet.
The moment he stepped out of the palace, he intended to head straight for Aiden.
But as he turned to leave, Kerelona stopped him.
“What’s brought this on all of a sudden?”
“This isn’t sudden. I’ve always felt this way.”
“Then why now?”
“No reason.”
It wasn’t sudden to him, but it seemed that way to others.
Kaindel glanced down at Kerelona’s bewildered face, then shifted his gaze.
A line from Isa’s letter floated into his mind:
‘I’m a jealous person. Just seeing you with someone else makes me ache with envy. When you escort another, it ruins my mood so much it feels like I can’t breathe. Of course, that doesn’t mean I think I can be your partner either.’
* * *
