A Lie and the Weight of Fog
“It’s fine. I’m just a little tired.”
It was a lie. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept properly. The inside of my eyelids felt unbearably stiff, and a headache was tightening around my skull like a vise.
“Want to take a walk? The evening breeze feels refreshing.”
Arkin had been about to refuse, but he nodded. Anything was better than being alone in the room.
After we finished our meal, we headed for the garden. The sun was sinking beyond the horizon, painting the sky in warm orange. The sea breeze rustled the palm leaves.
“Actually…,” Elio said hesitantly, opening his mouth.
“It’s complicated because of Petra.”
“Petra?”
“Yeah. The fiancé Father chose. But I….”
A small stone skipped across the ground from the tip of Elio’s shoe. The pebble vanished into the bushes, and he let out a long sigh.
“I don’t actually dislike Petra. No, I like her. I like her a lot. She’s smart and strong, and she has her own kind of charm….”
“……”
“There’s nothing wrong with Petra. It’s me. Because….”
Well, you see, that’s it. Why is it, you see?
Elio’s words trailed off into nothing, then stopped. A vague silence hung in the air, heavy and impossible to shake off.
I couldn’t take it anymore and clutched my temples with a groan. Normally I would have listened patiently, but today even my head was too full of throbbing pain.
“Oh, Arkin. Are you all right?”
Elio startled and reached for me. Seeing I was struggling, he grabbed my arm and glanced around the empty garden.
“Sorry. I’m just….”
I pressed a hand to my forehead. Cold sweat clung to my palm.
“No, Arkin. You look terrible. Go inside and rest. You have classes tomorrow.”
Elio shook his head and tugged me along.
“Should I tell Titus? Maybe rub some oil on your forehead or burn some herbs.”
“No, no, it’s fine. I just need to rest.”
Elio looked at me with worried eyes, but he didn’t push further.
“Go soak in hot water. The poison should come out and you’ll feel better. I saw the bath yesterday; they had herbs prepared.”
I nodded and headed back to the lodging.
Soaking in water while carrying that body was an enormous burden. I dragged the stove in the corner of the bath to the edge, gathered kindling, and fed it into the hole below. I sat down in front of it as the water warmed, leaning forward until I nearly fell.
I poured the boiling water into the tub several times, then tossed in the herbs. Finally, I lowered myself into the steaming bath. My body melted, flowing like hot wax. I closed my eyes, let my arms and legs hang heavy, and tried to release the tension. But my head remained heavy.
The two of us filled a vast wooden tub. I crouched tighter, letting the water lap against my chin. Eyes closed, I listened to the gentle sloshing of the water and breathed steadily. The sharp, herbal scent wrapped around my entire body, and somewhere in the back of my mind I dared to hope that everything pressing on my nerves would simply sink away.
But when I finally stepped out, water dripping from my hair, I couldn’t bring myself to lie in bed. Instead I wandered restlessly around the narrow room. The thought of pressing my body down terrified me. A terrible dream always seemed to wait for me.
“Haa…”
I sighed deeply, tossed the large cloth from my waist onto the bed, and pulled out a long, narrow linen cloth from the basket. It was uncomfortable, but anything was better than the feeling of my body dragging and scraping across the floor. I folded the clean cloth between my waist and thighs with practiced skill and tied it securely. Clean underclothes.
Kneeling on the floor, I leaned forward to check the fit. It felt heavy and sagged slightly, but at least it wouldn’t interfere with movement. I took a deep breath, spread my palms shoulder-width apart, and placed my hands flat on the floor.
Why in the world did such an absurdly large and long thing have to start running around so early? I supposed I’d never know the gods’ intention anyway, but this thing was annoyingly cumbersome.
Why couldn’t it have grown naturally alongside a proper partner? It wasn’t needed until marriage anyway!
Frowning, I inhaled slowly. I raised my heels, aware of my spread shoulders, and straightened my body into a perfect line. The muscles of my calves and abdomen pulled taut with satisfying tension.
One. I lowered my body inch by inch. When my chest nearly touched the floor, I tucked my elbows against my sides. I braced my core so my back wouldn’t arch and pushed back up, exhaling. Hooouu. Duuul. I felt every muscle and tendon flexing and releasing again and again. One, two, twenty-one, twenty-two, forty-seven, forty-eight. Eighty-three, eighty-four… I kept pushing without pause.
“One hundred… twenty…”
Thud. Tap. Sweat ran down my forehead and slid down my nose to the floor. I repeated the movement, body glistening, squeezing out every last ounce of strength. My trained body, stronger than ever, no longer fainted easily, but that wasn’t what I had wanted.
I simply wanted it to collapse completely from fatigue without any dreams or exhaustion. To sleep like the dead and wake up to a peaceful day. But my strong body showed no signs of breaking, and my fuzzy head slowly began to clear. I gritted my teeth and poured every drop of energy out of my entire frame. Without a single pause, I did one hundred and twenty-eight, one hundred and twenty-nine, one hundred and thirty.
One hundred and thirty-eight, one hundred and thirty-nine, one hundred and forty. Even though I finished the count, my body refused to collapse. That was my pride. I barely managed to hold my posture.
At the very end, when my thick arms could barely hold on, my large body finally finished its work and slowly melted into silence. No noise at all.
My fingers had no strength left, but I crawled to the bed on all fours. Cool air brushed my sweat-soaked skin. A single droplet of sweat slid down the valley of my bulging chest muscles.
“Haa…”
Even after exhausting all my strength, today still felt wasted. The moment I realized it was the familiar beginning of hell, I had already fallen into the dream.
***
Arkin stood before a colossal world tree.
The tree, tall enough to pierce the sky, was the symbol of Solinar and the source of royal power. Its silver bark glowed like moonlight, and golden leaves hung from every branch, swaying in the wind.
A beautiful and sacred sight. To Arkin, it was the beginning of terror.
In his hand was a staff. The staff used by Great-grandfather Chefkin when he forged the peace treaty. Its smooth surface, carved from white birch, chilled his palm with cold.
“You must become king. Arkin. You have to do it. You are different from them. Aren’t you?”
His father’s voice echoed from all directions. His face was invisible, yet the words vibrated through the air and pierced his ears.
“The owner of the Solinar throne is our white-birch family. Don’t give up, Arkin!”
“Arkin, you’ll do well, won’t you?”
His mother’s earnest whisper followed. Soft yet heavy, the voice mixed with hope and affection, pressing down on Arkin’s chest.
Arkin raised the staff high and drove it into the ground before the world tree. It was part of the sacred ritual only a royal heir could perform.
But the instant the staff in his hand touched the wood, something horrific happened.
The staff twitched. At first it was a faint vibration, but soon the movement grew violent. Scales appeared on the smooth surface, and something cold slithered up Arkin’s arm.
A snake. A massive black serpent coiled around the staff in his place, its red eyes flashing as it stared at Arkin and flicked its tongue. The hissing sound was vivid in his ears. Shhh, shhh, shhh.
“Greed.”
The snake spoke. No, Great-grandfather’s voice. An old, deep tone poured from the serpent’s mouth.