Crown of Thorns

11-15

CHAPTER 11

Translator & editor : Cuties

After sending the boy away like that, I sat back against the wall and looked at the dreary darkness. At one point, the floor wavered and another darkness appeared anew. Although it was no different from the one engulfing the inside of the tower, it was clearly distinguishable as another kind of darkness. And the new darkness, which took a human form, seeped back into the floor and faded away.

After looking at the emaciated darkness for a while, I closed my eyes and began to empty my mind. There was nothing difficult about it because it had been a constant task until I met a young warrior. However, there was a new hesitation this time around.

I'm scared. I don't know exactly what's scary. Am I afraid that everything I've built so far will fall apart? Or am I just not confident enough to look at it? Am I worried that the darkness might never leave me or that I might go back to wanting to die soon?

"But I can't do anything at this rate."

Determined to protect the young warrior, I had to hover around him. At least I had to know what I didn't know, what was going on around the boy, and how he would change in the future. Only then could I find a way. Knowing his present would change the future.

And to do that, I had to follow the young warrior.

I began to look at the world through the darkness that I had just dispersed. But what I see in front of me was not the damp, dreary interior of the tower as usual. I could see the endless steps. And I saw the back of the young warrior going down the stairs. The stairs were steep and messy, as if they were not made to be used, and the occasionally staggered while difficultly to descending. Each time he tripped, the boy clicked his tongue, displeased.

I followed behind and looked at the boy. The white hair was stained with a dull grayish color, and the surroundings were all dark and hazy. The boy walked a little faster and I got a little closer just in case I missed him. Whatever he felt, the boy stopped walking and looked back. The boy's red eyes also looked gray, close to black. The world I am looking at now was made up of only black and gray.

"Who's there?"

The boy's cry echoed and hovered for a long time. The boy, who had been standing still for a while, moved again and I followed suit. The steps made of the same stone that molded the inside of the tower, continued for a long time before they ended. But there was nothing at the end of the stairs. No doorway or windows. Just like up where I'm staying, there's only a wall of stone.

As if too obvious, the boy standing in front of the wall crouched down and began to kick a stone. Every time the boy's small feet connected, the stone began to slide little by little and light permeated through them. I took a breath for a moment without realizing it. It's just a light gray sun that doesn't shine and doesn't feel warm, but it looks blurry and hazy enough to make it feel darker than the boy's hair, but I'm not confident of getting out of the tower and going through that shining light. I had a ridiculous idea that it might melt me away.

While I was hesitating, the boy succeeded in pushing out a stone and a space emerged for the little boy to barely get in and out. And contrary to my expectation that he could get out right away, vines full of sharp thorns blocked the boy's way. The boy casually reached out to clean up the prickly vines. The thorn vines inflicted minor wounds on the boy's hands and arms, but even so his expression remained unchanged.

And as soon as it was organized enough to get out of, he held out his upper body without hesitation. The untidy vines scratched the boy's face and body. Bloodstained thorns came into his eyes. I was reminded of the young man who had also been coming in and out using the same method.