Chương 54: The Angel's Representative

The dust had not yet settled in the palace courtyard. The net lay on the ground, flipped over, and one sealing tool was wedged between stones, unable to roll any further. People stood or knelt, all looking at the same sky. Ren was looking at the sky. In the direction where Kichan had vanished, only the end of the song remained. The soldiers on the walls, the soldiers in the courtyard, the queen's attendant, the temple people — all were looking at the same place.

Just moments ago, there had been wings spread in light and a round ring suspended above Kichan's head. Kichan had not seen it, but everyone in the courtyard had. No one could move right away. Someone knelt first, and then someone spoke.

"An angel." Another person spoke in a low voice.

"A calamity." Someone from the Imperial Magic Institute looked toward the Tower Master. He was still staring down at his own hand—a hand that could summon neither flame nor written character. The queen's attendant looked at the sky while clutching the jewelry Kichan had given her. It was only then that Ren looked at his own hand. His fingers were trembling. In that hand was the coin purse Kichan had told him to send to the village. The inside of his palm was damp. Sweat. People began to look at Ren.

First one, then three, and soon nearly everyone was looking at Ren.

"What did he say?"

"What did that song mean?"

"Whose god's messenger is he?"

"Where did he go?" Ren could not open his mouth. He tried to swallow, his throat dry, but it would not go down. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it. Kichan's last words had been short. `Don't come near. ` `Ah, whatever. ` If he repeated those words exactly, he knew how they would be twisted.

"Don't come" would become a command, and "Ugh, whatever" would become an oracle. Someone would trace the direction of Kichan's escape, and someone would bind him to the name of their god. For the first time, Ren did not translate. He raised his head.

"He said not to follow." The courtyard went quiet. Ren was taken aback by the words that came out of his own mouth. What Kichan had said was shorter and rougher. But the meaning was clear. Don't follow. Don't touch him. Don't drag him away. One temple person looked at Ren.

"You heard his words?" Ren did not answer. While he did not answer, someone else spoke first.

"He is the angel's proxy." The words spread too fast. The angel's proxy. Proxy. Ren tried to say no, but his mouth would not open. Even if he said no, it was already too late. This kingdom had begun calling Kichan, who had flown into the sky, an angel. Then Ren, who had been entrusted with Kichan's words, was placed beside him. The queen's attendant approached. Her steps were slow, and her face was soft again.

"Lord Ren." It was the first time she had called Ren "lord." Ren found that more frightening.

"Her Majesty the Queen wishes to speak with you quietly." Someone from the Imperial Magic Institute approached as well. The hand holding the writing board trembled slightly.

"An official statement is required." A temple person stood silently before Ren. He did not block the way. But his eyes were asking. Ren gripped the coin purse tighter. The village Kichan had spoken of. The people Kichan had said not to touch. The money that Kichan, saying he could trust no one, had still entrusted to him. Ren lowered his head. It was the posture of one seeking permission.

"He left something for me to do." The queen's attendant's eyes narrowed very slightly, and the person from the palace raised his record board. The temple person quietly withdrew. That evening, rumors circled the capital. The Magic Tower tried to hide the story of its Tower Master, and the palace recorded the foreigner who had fled into the sky as a dangerous asset.

The queen placed the jewelry on her palm and looked at it for a long time, and the temple recorded the white owl, the song, and the wings as a single bundle. Ren found a small cart. It was a cart leaving the capital. The load bed held cloth sacks and empty medicine bottles, and there was enough space for a person to crouch low and hide. Ren placed the coin purse inside his clothes. The cart rattled once over the stone gap at the city gate. The coin purse inside his clothes pressed against his ribs.

He had to reach the village. Not all of it — but he had to make it. The words Kichan had left behind, and the words Ren had chosen not to pass on.