* * *
Hearing the melancholy murmur, Vivisian habitually stroked Hesia’s cheek, lost in thought.
Indeed, those with names associated with angels or gods often met unfortunate ends.
Their lives were sacred, noble, and beautiful, but they were far from peaceful.
Understanding Hesia’s concern, Vivisian gave a bitter smile as he carefully chose his words of comfort.
Hadn’t he also searched endlessly for answers after receiving the name Dolor, hearing that the sorrowful shall be blessed?
He had once been consumed by those thoughts.
By the time Hesia, having been gently stroked for a while, calmed down a little, Vivisian finally spoke in a slow, measured tone.
“They say people live up to their names, but that’s not always true. A person’s fate is shaped by their own hands. Angels are said to stand between gods and humans, conveying the will of the divine to mankind. But they also carry human prayers to the gods.”
“Human prayers…”
“Yes, human prayers. If you carry someone’s prayers—or if you have something you earnestly wish for—maybe the gods will listen a little more closely. So don’t think of it as something entirely bad. History only remembers the dramatic stories. The angels who lived peaceful lives simply weren’t recorded.”
You could be one of those peaceful angels.
As Vivisian traced the winding path of his life, which had eventually led to a serene sorrow, he smiled.
Though nothing could be seen beyond the mask and hood, Hesia could easily picture the beautiful face hidden beneath.
If he actually saw that face now, he wasn’t sure he could hold back from kissing him.
Lost in that thought, Hesia nuzzled his forehead against Vivisian’s shoulder, murmuring in a petulant tone,
“Hey, Ian.”
“Mhm. What is it?”
“What name did you get?”
“Dolor.”
Vivisian spoke without hesitation, despite not particularly liking the name.
At the unexpected answer, Hesia’s already large eyes widened even further.
The sight was strangely endearing.
In contrast to the setting, Vivisian let out an almost inappropriately light-hearted chuckle before murmuring in a composed voice,
“There is such a thing as serene sorrow. So maybe, instead of an angel who serves the gods by embracing humanity, you could be an angel who seeks out the gods for the sake of humans. Hesia, you’ll be fine.”
At those gentle words, Hesia slowly closed his eyes and murmured softly,
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. And so will you, Ian. After all, there’s that saying… Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted…”
Though the gods remained silent, their messenger offered comfort freely.
Vivisian let out a quiet laugh, closing his eyes as well. Above them, light rained down.
After that, the two traveled far and wide.
They boarded trains that traversed the continent, visited the sea at the end of the desert, and encountered countless incidents, both big and small.
But in the end, all that remained were fond memories.
They spent nearly a year traveling across the world before making their final stop in the Patos Desert.
After that, they returned to the Duchy of Meriane.
Just as Vivisian had planned, they entered the duchy quietly, without revealing his identity to anyone.
This was only possible because he had the protection of the Grand Duke’s sole heir.
Interest in the mysterious guest who always wore a mask and robe quickly reached its peak.
Yet, even after a week, the mystery remained unsolved.
Hesia never spoke of him first, and even the Grand Duke did not question his presence.
Because of that, rumors only grew about the ‘distinguished guest’ who suited the duchy’s opulent fashion so well.
“I saw a sword on his waist. He must be a bodyguard.”
“No way. His Grace would never look at a bodyguard so fondly. Maybe he’s a lover.”
“I vote for lover, too. Or maybe a secret fiancé. Otherwise, there’s no way His Grace would talk to someone so casually. You know how he is.”
“Yeah, you’re right. But whatever the case, one thing’s clear—he’s important. So be polite, you guys! Don’t mess up. And for the love of god, don’t talk about this in front of him!”
Whether he knew or not about the countless speculations trailing behind him from those working in the castle and the nobles—Vivisian had been too preoccupied these past few days helping Hesia learn how to guide.
When an Apostle uses their ability, residual waves remain throughout their body.
If those waves accumulate, they can block meridians or wreak havoc on internal organs, pushing them toward a state of rampancy.
Similarly, a Guide also has waves—though different from an Apostle’s.
A Guide possesses waves designed to lead and expel the residual ones left behind after an Apostle uses their ability.
By moving the waves within their own body, a Guide draws out and releases the accumulated remnants from the Apostle.
Apostles, said to be born to carry out divine will and bring salvation.
And those who guide these lost and wandering Apostles—thus, they are called Guides.
Every Guide Vivisian had met so far could naturally handle waves and lead without issue.
But perhaps because Hesia wasn’t born a Guide, he had never wielded waves before receiving his name.
Yet, knowing that he was a Guide and perhaps spurred by the thought, ‘I could be the one to guide Ian!’—Hesia refused to give up and continued to study diligently.
Truthfully, despite supporting him, Vivisian himself felt indifferent.
Unlike most Apostles, who tend to obsess over their Guide, he had no such inclination.
He wasn’t sure why, but ever since long ago, he had never encountered a Guide whose waves matched his own.
Even finding someone with similar waves was as difficult as searching for a needle in the desert.
Vivisian had wandered the Patos Desert for a long time, yet he had never found that needle—never even seen a Guide with matching waves.
And yet, as if by some cruel twist of fate, Hesia’s waves aligned perfectly with his.
A few days ago, Hesia had sneezed and, unconsciously, released a guiding wave.
At that moment, the residual energy clustered in Vivisian’s body after using his ability intertwined with Hesia’s wave and dissipated like smoke.
If an Apostle must attune their waves with a Guide to avoid losing control, then for a Guide, sharing their waves with the Apostle they match with was an incredibly intense experience.
Because of this, Hesia had been struggling, determined to master his waves and become proficient in guiding.
But more than that—he had managed to release his waves completely by accident, in such a trivial way, when all his effort had failed.
It was absurd, yet somehow, it suited him.
Vivisian, lost in that thought, was pulled back to reality by the sound of groaning from ahead.
After hearing that waves naturally flow when in direct contact with an Apostle, Hesia had taken to sticking to Vivisian like glue every day, experimenting in every way he could think of.
Now, he was clutching his head in frustration.
“What is it this time?”
If anyone else had been there, they might have told him to just pull his hair out instead.
But Vivisian, having seen Hesia do this repeatedly over the past few days, simply looked on with familiarity and soothed him.
He skillfully diverted Hesia’s attention with a question, making him release his grip on his hair—and then promptly took hold of Hesia’s hands himself.
Whether he noticed or not, Hesia, now held by both hands, pouted with an aggrieved expression.
“No matter how much I try, the waves won’t move. Other people handle theirs like an extension of their own limbs, but why am I the only one struggling? Ugh, this is so frustrating!”
At first, he had been so despondent he seemed ready to die, but now he was fuming instead.
His emotions shifted drastically, yet it was as natural as flowing water.
Vivisian was well accustomed to Hesia’s temper by now and only chuckled in response.
“Well, of course. They were born with their waves, but you only just acquired yours. A newborn baby can’t control their limbs well, right? It takes time to walk, and even longer to move their hands with precision.”
Speaking as if comforting a child, Vivisian gently manipulated Hesia’s fingers.
Hesia quietly watched as Vivisian shaped his hand into various forms.
After a while, Vivisian crafted a heart with his fingers and turned his head.
By then, Hesia had already calmed down.
“Feeling better now?”
Hesia pursed his lips but nodded obediently.
“Good. Take it slow. At least we know for sure that you can release waves. That means, even if it takes time, you’ll be able to guide an Apostle.”
“Not any Apostle—only Ian.”
“…Yeah, me.”
Vivisian humored his near-whining remark and picked up the book he had set aside.
As he absentmindedly ruffled Hesia’s hair, he found his place in the book and spoke again.
“Anyway, what I’m saying is—don’t rush. Stay relaxed. Just because you’re impatient doesn’t mean your waves will respond to that.”
“…You said I might be your only Guide. And yet you can still say that?”
“Well, at least now I have a Guide. I thought someone who matched my waves didn’t even exist.”
He let out a laugh, as if he still couldn’t believe it himself.
That was the last thing he said before resuming his reading.
* * *
