Chương 36: Once Means Yes

The door was locked, but regardless of that, the room looked like a five-star hotel. A thick carpet covered the floor, and grapevine patterns were carved into the bedposts. Through the window, he could see the castle courtyard below, and whenever soldiers marched past in formation, the edges of their armor flashed briefly in the morning light. Kichan sat at the table for a long time without saying anything. On the table lay the materials Dust had taken out. A piece of salt-beast horn. Wax crumbs. A red thread.

A thin piece of metal. Beside them lay the wake-up rod. Kichan placed the wake-up rod across his knees. The long, crude wake-up rod still did not look worthy of its name. Rust marks remained, and it had nothing like decoration. But when he held it, the weight settled into his palm. It was familiar. That made him more annoyed.

"You brought all this?" Dust flicked its legs on the table.

"I carried the wake-up rod. The materials are what you collected." Dust flicked its legs again. Kichan sighed.

"Fine. Let's say you contributed too." Tap. Dust struck the table once. Kichan stopped.

"Was that yes?" Tap. Once. Kichan pointed at the tabletop with his finger.

"Good. One means yes." Dust stayed still. This time, Kichan held up two fingers.

"Two means no?" Tap. Tap.

"Good." He let out a small breath.

"Now you're saying something close to human words." Dust raised its legs high.

"No, I'm the human. You're... never mind." Kichan let the sentence trail off. He placed the horn fragment beside the wake-up rod. The salt-beast horn was rough on the outside, but inside it, white powder and gray veins were embedded together. When he touched it, the pressure he had felt in front of the beast rose very thinly. Stone. Salt. Horn. And a direction that endured. He remembered the Rohonc copy. Metal showed the direction of endurance. The Voynich document showed the direction of growth.

When the two overlapped, the red thread on the table caught his eye in a strange way. The thread looked like a path that could connect Dust and the wake-up rod. The metal piece was a place for a signal to catch, and the wax was like a hand that held the two together for a while. Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Kichan frowned.

"I really hate this. I hate it more because I feel like I understand something." Dust walked toward the wake-up rod. One small wire leg tapped near the handle.

"Here?" Tap.

"You want me to attach it to the handle?" Tap.

"You really understand me, right?" This time, Dust did not answer. That silence annoyed Kichan more. It did not answer only correct things, and it seemed to answer only when necessary. He pressed the wax crumbs with his fingertips. The wax softened a little under his fingers. His fingertips felt strangely hot. He placed the thin metal piece under the handle of the wake-up rod and wrapped the red thread around it once. The horn piece was too large to attach as it was.

Kichan lifted the tip of the wake-up rod slightly and pressed only the edge of the fragment. Crack. The piece split thinly. Dust immediately rushed in and dragged over one small shard with its front legs.

"You're excited." Dust pretended not to hear. Kichan attached the horn shard under the handle. The red thread passed over the shard and connected to the metal piece. Wax filled the gap. From the outside, it looked like a toy repaired in a hurry. But inside his fingertips, a line formed. A line starting from the balance of the wake-up rod. Passing through the red thread. Through the horn shard. And reaching very faintly toward Dust on the table. Dust moved its legs. Tap.

The sound came not from the table, but from inside Kichan's palm. Kichan almost dropped the wake-up rod.

"Wow, damn." Dust tapped again. Tap. Tap. This time, it rang twice inside his palm. Kichan gripped the wake-up rod tightly.

"Once means yes. Twice means no." Tap. Kichan could not even laugh. He only exhaled.

"Good. At least I'm not crazy." Dust paused briefly, then flicked its legs very slightly. Kichan watched it and narrowed his eyes.

"Did you just say no?" Tap. Tap.

"Hey." This time, Dust ran quickly around the table. For the first time, Kichan smiled a little. The smile did not last long. The red thread attached to the wake-up rod's handle trembled very faintly. The tremor did not come from Dust. It came from somewhere deeper, from the place of the empty coaster on last night's cafe table. Angelic language. Kichan stopped his hand. His throat went dry at once. Rome plaza. White light. Gun barrels. The ground disappearing. He tried to put the wake-up rod down.

Dust pressed the rod with its front legs.

"I thought you'd tell me not to." Tap. Tap. No. Kichan closed his eyes.

"You're crazy too." Tap. Yes.

"You admit that quickly." For a long time, he said nothing. Outside the window, soldiers passed by, and footsteps sounded at regular intervals in the corridor. The lord's manor was quiet. A quiet prison. Kichan drew in a very small breath. Angelic language was not speech. That was how it felt. Not sound, but the direction of opening a door. Touching the folded part of the world with the tip of his tongue. That was why it scared him. If he touched the wrong place, he felt like he would fall again.

Even so, if he wanted to go back. If he wanted to go back to the village. If he wanted to return to Seoul someday too. He opened his mouth. Almost no sound came out. The first syllable was closer to breath.

"Ah..." Nothing happened. Kichan opened his eyes.

"See? Nothing hap—" The red thread on the wake-up rod's handle drew tight as if it might snap. Kichan closed his mouth immediately. The candle in the room swayed one beat late. The window was closed, and there was no wind. The fruit peel on the table dried very thinly, then returned to normal. Dust flattened its body.

"... I only did a little." Tap. Yes. Kichan swallowed dryly.

"That counts as little?" Tap. Yes. He pressed a hand to his forehead.

"This is bad."

In the small chapel below the lord's manor, the commotion began a little later. Kichan was not there. Instead, a cup he had touched, a soup spoon, a tiny bit of powder scraped from a door handle, and one hair taken from the bedclothes had been placed there. The mage and the priest did not speak much to each other. During the day they had acted like people from different systems, but that night they wore the same expression. At first, they caught nothing. No mana. No trace of prayer. Nothing attached like a curse.

The priest tried to feel relieved. Then the small bell hanging from the chapel ceiling rang. No one had pulled the cord. Deng. The priest lifted his head. The mage looked at the measuring disc. The needle pointed at zero. Then it turned backward. An impossible direction. At the same time, the light vanished from the priest's sacred object. It had not gone out. It was as if someone had skimmed away only the concept of light. The chapel candles swayed late. The room had not shaken. The floor had not shaken either.

If the world were a sheet of paper, it felt as though someone had lifted one corner of it very slightly. The priest took one step back.

"It is neither divine nor demonic." The mage looked at the disc with a pale face. It was a frightened face. And at the same time, a covetous one.

"Just now... did someone read?" The priest could not answer. Outside the chapel, a soldier knocked on the door.

"There was light in the no-mana healer's room—" The sentence did not reach its end. Because the mage and the priest turned toward the door at the same time.

Kichan had the wake-up rod across his knees. Under the handle, red thread, a thin metal piece, and a white horn shard were attached clumsily. It was not a good-looking object. If he gave it a name, the name was sure to be even worse. Dust waited on the table. Kichan looked down at the wake-up rod.

"Tap-rod." Dust stopped.

"No, I know. The name sucks." Tap. Yes.

"Hey." Dust did not tap twice. Kichan lowered his head and sighed.

"Fine. That's how it becomes mine, apparently." A very small vibration returned from inside the handle of the wake-up rod. Tap. Once. Yes. And footsteps quickened at the far end of the corridor. Kichan looked toward the door.

"Of course." He lifted the wake-up rod.

"Nothing can stay quiet."