The Vast And Empty North

The world is beautiful.

Every morning I see the sunrise, my heart wells with joy and I just want to shout my feelings from the mountaintops. How couldn't I be happy when I see everyone's smiling faces?

Today, the people of the village took me up a big mountain. They carried me up in a wooden palanquin. I was concerned for them, asking whether it was too heavy, but they did not permit me to walk, nor did they ever lose their footing.

The mountain people are really amazing!

At last, we reached our destination. Several towers of cascading waterfalls, pooling in steaming hot springs… I wasn't expecting there to be such a place so high up. The temperature was bitter cold, so I couldn't resist the temptation to take my clothes off and jump in the bath!

This seemed to upset the people for some reason. One man explained to me that it was wrong to be nude in front of others, especially women. I don't get it. The human body is part of this world, and therefore beautiful, so why must one be embarrassed of their form?

I refused, and they eventually conceded to me. The hot spring felt so nice! The townspeople told me a story, of how these springs were once filled with magic power and could heal the body and soul, but that magic was gone now. In the past, this spring brought them prosperity because people would flock from all over to bathe, but now, nobody came anymore.

I understood, then, why they brought me here. I granted their wish, and the waters became stained red by my blood.

--To grant wishes, I must sacrifice my body as payment.

In other words, my purpose is to die.

That is my magic.

The world is filled with so many sensations, both painful and pleasant, but it's the painful ones I tend to remember most vividly… Therefore, I pledge to minimize all human suffering, and if I must suffer so they will experience only the pleasantness, then so may I carry this burden.

My power restored the spring to its former, glorious state, and because I had consecrated it with my divine blood, it was blessed, never to lose its properties again.

The people called it the Second Miracle of Rirasiru.

To mark the occasion, they are to build my Temple over the spring in my honor.

… I don't get what's so miraculous, though?

I'm just fulfilling my purpose.

Nothing about me is miraculous.

I'm so childish, though! I'm giddy thinking about what I want my Temple to be like. I want there to be a stable full of reindeer I can ride, and I want a big kitchen with a chef who makes me all sorts of tasty treats. A glass dome ceiling, so I may gaze out to the night sky, and a schoolhouse where the servants' children can go. A band that plays my favorite songs, and flowers everywhere! Anywhere they can be put, they'll go!

And I'd like to share all these wonders with everybody.

The people say these things cost money. I don't understand it. Why can't you just share the things you enjoy? Why hoard luxuries?

Sometimes, I think I'm like a little baby.

I am still innocent of this world and have much to learn.

There are some strange things, but I'm looking forward to what I have yet to discover.

(Excerpt from the Diary of Rirasiru)

--

Three years ago…

Silvio awoke slowly. He lay curled up on the simple cot, his small form eclipsed by the mountain of blankets piled up on him. Sparks of phantom pain lanced through him; he shuddered, and brought himself to a seat, huddling against the window. His breath came up in frozen clouds.

He looked outside.

Snow covered the ground as far as he could see, gilding the ancient forest pine trees with a mantel of white tinsel. The endless, moonless night offered no light to illuminate the path, and all was still. Not even the birds chirped from their nest hollows.

Silvio reached for his staff, but upon grabbing a handful of nothing, remembered he didn't have it anymore. Not that he was able to use it now, anyway. He slumped back into his funk, only to come out of it a moment later upon remembering his mission. When he succeeds, all this suffering will have never been…

He got out of bed, flinching at the cold, and let his vision adjust to the darkness. He decided to case the cabin for anything that could be of use. He had to travel light, though. Silvio was more brains than brawn. He looked at his coat, torn, burned, and dirty, and shook his head. There was no way that thing would provide any protection from the elements. It was too battered.

His stomach growled. Silvio opened one of the pickle jars on the shelf and took a bite of whatever was inside, grimacing when the taste met his tongue. Pickled reindeer meat. He couldn't stand any pickled foods that weren't vegetables.

Be tough, he reminded himself. He needed the protein, and if he was to survive the brutal trip to Minumna, he had to eat anything he could get his hands on. Silvio ate a few more strips until the taste overwhelmed him, and he screwed the lid back on. His belly still wasn't full, so he tried a few more pickled foods, this time finding pickled turnips, which were much more agreeable to him. Before he knew it, the jar was empty. Silvio berated himself for gorging himself on such a precious resource, but hunger wasn't a sensible thing. Next time, conserve food. Next time, be strong.

His mood lifted a bit when he spotted a rucksack underneath the bed. Silvio pulled it out. It was ancient and smelled pretty questionable, but it was the best thing he found so far. Silvio rolled up the map and stuffed it inside, along with a first aid kit, some preserved medicinal herbs, and a small pocketknife. He put in as many pickle jars as he could, but they were heavy, so he had to leave many behind.

Silvio rifled through the drawers. He found a box of matches, a piece of flint, and a small mirror. Good, good! He wrapped up the matches. No matter what, they couldn't get wet. And into the pack they went. The only other things of note were a small tarp, barely big enough to crouch under, and some cord. Silvio knew he needed shelter. Maybe he could use it to create a crude lean-to? His mind wandered back to the time he and Jan got stuck in the ice cave together.

His tears froze to his face.

There weren't any tools to be found. That was the biggest disappointment. Well, he supposed he just had to be creative to get around. Besides, his pack was just about full anyway. He closed it. Now, he needed clothes. Silvio's boots were still good, but most of his other clothing got destroyed.

Fumbling around, he found a pair of woolen socks. Casting off his old ones, he put them on. They were too big, obviously made for an adult, but they would do. Silvio also discovered a pair of mittens and a red bandana. By tying it around his face, he might be able to stave off frostbite. The best thing he discovered, though, was a long cloak, the inside lined with plush rabbit fur. It was soft and cuddly to the touch, and it came with a hood, too.

Like the socks, the cloak was also too big, the end of it trailing across the floor, but he didn't have room to complain about it getting frayed.

Silvio silently thanked the owner of the cabin. A little guilt manifested itself in his thoughts. He was stealing, and even if the owner didn't come back for years, it was still wrong. Maybe he could repay the cost of the goods someday.

And with that, he braced himself, heading out into the cold night.

The winter chill hit him like a freight train. Silvio winced. It was enough protection to stave off death, but that was about it. Nothing about this trip was going to be fun. Looking up at the night sky, he found the North Star and headed in the opposite direction. Without a compass or astrolabe, the stars he knew served as his only guide.

His feet sank into the snow as he walked, plodding along. At any other time, he'd wait until the sun shone in the sky and provided its warmth, but this time of year, the sunrise would never come.

Somewhere along the way he picked up a big stick. Leaning on it relieved his burden a bit, and he wiped cold sweat from his brow. How long had he walked now? Looking behind him, his expression morphed into a frown.

The cabin was still within his line of sight.

What a pain in the butt! What a massive, festering pain! Even top athletes collapsed in exhaustion when it came to wading in snow this deep!

But he couldn't collapse. He couldn't give up.

And with sheer determination keeping him alive, Silvio continued walking, checking the sky every so often to make sure he wasn't going around in circles.

Eventually, he exited the field and entered the forest. Traveling under the cover of the canopy was much more agreeable to walk in. The snow wasn't as deep, and although it was darker, he much preferred this.

Silvio walked for hours on end with no sounds to keep him company except for the crunch of the snow beneath his boots and the pounding of his heart. When he got thirsty, he drank the snow, and when he got hungry, he ignored the pangs in his stomach.

After a while, the cold didn't bother him so much anymore. Or maybe he was falling victim to hypothermia. He couldn't tell. Silvio wrapped his cloak more snugly around himself. A gust of wind whistled through the trees and hit him like a shower of glass.

… Never mind.

He was still really cold.

The temperature dropped.

Silvio decided the best course of action was to rest when the weather was at its worst, and travel when conditions were clear. For now, he ought to rest. He looked for somewhere to make camp.

This time, there were no ice caves to be found, but he did encounter a good-sized rock. Silvio collected the biggest branches lying on the ground and constructed a shoddy lean-to, draping the tarp and loose boughs over it to make a roof. It wasn't much, but it had to do. Now he needed a fire. Silvio had the means to light one, but nothing to burn. The woods were saturated in water.

He collected some sticks anyway, and constructed a fire pit the best he knew how. He tried to light the fire, to no avail. The sticks were too wet. By now the wind howled with the spirit of winter.

Silvio's teeth chattered, and he dove beneath the lean-to, protecting himself from the wind. Absentmindedly, he fiddled with the stick in his hand, pulling off the tree bark. To his surprise and absolute delight, he discovered the wood pulp underneath was dry enough to burn.

And with a few more tries, he finally lit the fire, basking in its warmth. He couldn't feel his toes. Silvio took off his boots, warming them in the glow. Frost-nipped, he noted. The nerves in his feet prickled and popped. If he could find a way to insulate his boots so his foot wouldn't get wet, it would avoid any real damage.

Silvio spent the next couple hours peeling sticks and keeping the fire going. Turns out, they used fuel a lot faster than he thought they did. He found some rocks and warmed them over the fire, putting them inside the lean-to as a sort of primitive "heating" system. He crouched over his map, planning his route. Silvio had no way for certain of knowing where he was exactly, but if he at least was headed crudely South, he'd come across Hakalai Pass. Silvio's stomach twisted in knots. He needed to stop there and buy supplies with what little money he had, but the prospect of coming across Jan's aunt filled him with dread.

There was no other choice.

That was his mantra from now on.

"No other choice."

He curled up beneath the lean-to, diverting his thoughts to other concerns, such as finding enough food. Silvio anticipated significant weight loss, but if he had enough calories for his body to function, he should be able to make it. But what would he eat before he hit society?

The pickles weren't going to last him for long, even with his strict fasting measures in place. A wolf howled in the distance and he shuddered. Hunting. Killing animals… He didn't like that idea, but again… no other choice. Of course, it occurred to Silvio he hadn't the faintest idea how to hunt in the first place.

Maybe it was better to trap animals instead. He'd figure out a decent way to make one. Ugh… how was he supposed to skin and process it when he did catch something? There were so many things that needed to be done he didn't know how to do.

But what Silvio lacked in strength, he made up for with his cleverness. His smarts were his primary weapon against the wilderness, travel concerns, and Isaana.

Isaana…

Why did she want to kill him?

What did he do that was worse than what other Unforgivables did?

He had to avoid her, too.

And if what Eleora said was true, she had goons all across the country. He needed to figure out whom to trust. His list so far was Mica, Hana, and… that was about it.

So he hardly had any resources, or allies, either.

Well then, he decided. When he got to Hakalai Pass, he wasn't just going to pick up supplies.

An ally or two wouldn't hurt.

He had a mission.