Between life and life, bonds existed.
Such bonds continued alongside emotion.
Sometimes, an ending was meaningless—but that was wrong.
Just like now, no matter how much was lost, no matter how much time passed, bonds would never disappear.
Merlin stood atop the tower, an unusual sadness on his face.
A flower landed on the tower's railing.
He gently picked it up, studying it closely before letting out a sigh.
He held the petal aloft, then let it drift downward as the flower continued to dance in the wind.
Perhaps it would fall to the ground. Or perhaps, one day, it would turn to ash in the wind.
"Wrongful King."
"King who took another path because of some division that should never have existed."
He lightly sat down in a corner of the tower, looking below from its summit. What his eyes held was not the scenery he had long since grown utterly familiar with.
"Avalon's protection... if it can be called a blessing, then how can it not also be called a curse?"
"The knights are walking corpses."
"But how is the King not also a walking corpse?"
"Wandering, wandering across this land."
"Never granted the chance to settle in some secluded corner, even deprived of the right to die."
"The rocks by the Holy Lake, the corpses that walk—what among them has not been endlessly discussed by the fairies?"
In the eyes of the half-incubus, who should have possessed not the slightest human emotion, the figures of King and knight were reflected. His voice carried a sigh—a sigh.
"The flesh is in tatters, the soul burned to ashes."
"Ha..." Merlin leaned back, shifting his gaze toward the top of the tower and letting out a dry laugh.
Though he was laughing, there was not the slightest hint of amusement