Children's friendship

110

"White mist spread, and blizzards veiled the mountain peaks."

"Cold winds blew across the empty wilderness."

"The skies were clear for miles, yet the distant scenery remained unseen."

"You should know that He was here."

"O my children, still struggling in despair, do not approach the boundless wilderness to the north, where even time has vanished."

"O my short-lived children, blessed by me, do not approach the dwelling of the King of Blue. The snowfields under His dominion hold no life."

"Solitude sang aloud, revealing His desolate kingdom."

"Only wind and snow danced in the sky, just as the king stood alone."

"O my dearly beloved children, do not leave my embrace. Do not draw near that evil god who embodies destruction!"

111

Little boys always had their secrets, much like a narrow path they secretly dug through their own gardens at the turn of spring and summer, leading somewhere else.

By the time the warm winds from the Sonia Sea overcame every obstacle and finally reached Trier, summer had already been underway for over a month. Aside from early autumn, this was the most pleasant time of the year. The social season in Intis was about to begin, nobles had changed into relatively light spring attire, and all manner of prized seafood, fruits, and vegetables would soon appear on their dining tables.

-Of course, none of that meant much to Traynor. Others thought fresh fruit and cooked dishes were delicious, but his father let him taste all sorts of wonderful fruit cakes, yogurt, magical drinks, and delicious food. Even Uncle Gustav, currently the man of the hour, came through the back door every few days to cadge a meal.

With the cakes and snacks his father made for him, he quickly became close to his new friend, Uncle Gustav's second son.

After all, Ciel's situation was different. Having an outstanding older sister always doubled the pressure on him. Although Ciel never volunteered it, Traynor could still sense considerable exhaustion and helplessness in his words and actions-"I'm just not as good as my sister. What am I supposed to do?"-whereas Traynor was his family's only child. He had inherited his mother's lively, cheerful nature, yet had to finish his boring royal lessons on schedule every day. The two children quickly grew familiar with each other.

Traynor's secret route out of the house went as follows: pass through the narrow bushes → squeeze through the gap between the railings → climb the largest oak in the garden and follow its thick branches onto the greenhouse roof → climb down the wall using its decorative features, then meet Ciel at their agreed spot.

It was a physically demanding undertaking, but as a born Hunter, Traynor did not find it particularly difficult.

The route was just right for a child who had only recently turned eight, though it would clearly have to be abandoned in another year or two.

Traynor tucked the little cloth bag of cookies more securely against his chest and nimbly climbed through the grass and over the fence. At the top of the oak's trunk, he spotted a tabby cat lounging there, its amber eyes staring straight at him. It was an old acquaintance-or rather, an acquainted cat-a Devil commanded by his father, as well as his playmate and future messenger.

"Don't tell Dad, okay?" Traynor felt a little guilty. "I'll treat you to some fresh raw fish later."

The tabby tilted its head and watched him for a while, then turned away, clearly unwilling to get involved. Traynor always felt there was something in its gaze that he did not quite understand, but that seemed to suggest disdain for him.

But he could not worry about that now. Ciel was still waiting for him! Ciel's mother always kept him on a tight leash, and sneaking out was no easy feat. If he did not get back on time, he would get scolded.

No adults wanted children running around outside, but children invariably considered sneaking out into the wider world a grand adventure. Traynor followed the thick, sturdy branch and jumped onto the greenhouse roof, making no more noise than a small stone hitting the ground. Half the roof was masonry, the other half beautiful glass. It had rained during the night, and a crisp green leaf remained in the dark gray gutter. The greenhouse maids were tending flowers of every color, which would eventually adorn vases throughout the residence.

It was a warm afternoon, and the air was heavy with drowsiness. There was not work to be done in the greenhouse every single day, either. The young, deft-handed maids chatted softly as they worked, letting out gentle laughter.

The cookies against his chest were still warm, giving off an enticing caramel aroma. Traynor crossed the roof lightly and swiftly, without making a sound. He nimbly reached the wall and climbed down like an agile squirrel, following his memory of where each protruding brick lay. He was congratulating himself on another successful adventure, completely unaware that a short strand of ivy had somehow crept over his next foothold-

"Huh?!"

Thud! Smack!

"Ow!"

A fall from two or three meters could hardly hurt a Hunter. Traynor instinctively braced himself, only to crash straight into a child below who had tried to catch him. The two children, whose combined ages did not even reach twenty, collided in a daze and tumbled away from the foot of the wall.

"That hurt! You-why are you here? Ow, didn't I tell you to wait for me at the corner?"

After a dizzying whirl, Traynor sprang up from the ground. The good news was that, thanks to his mother's Hunter training, he had no scrapes at all, just a slightly sore back! The bad news was that his back and sleeves had picked up dust from the ground. He was sure to be found out when he got home!

"I... I wanted to help. I saw you falling."

Ciel rubbed his bruised elbow, looking rather aggrieved. As a Savant, he had little experience of pain. Even when his results on his tutor's tests were poor, his mother merely sighed, offered a few words of comfort and advice, then gave his palm a few moderate smacks.

The commotion, neither particularly loud nor quiet, drew the greenhouse maids' attention. Traynor keenly caught the sound of the sliding glass door opening on the second-floor balcony. He hurriedly pulled Ciel up, crouched close to the wall, and jogged through the maids' blind spots to their usual secret meeting place-an abandoned little hut in a corner outside the estate.

"I brought you milk cookies and cheesecake. Dad didn't make the Oreos you wanted today."

Traynor eagerly took out the cloth bundle and spread it over a little square table with one damaged leg. A member of royalty and the child of the most powerful newly risen noble simply sat on the floor. Amid the sweet scent of milk and cake, Ciel swallowed and pulled a handful of components from his pocket.

"Don't rush, don't rush. I remember how to put it together..."

The little Savant murmured to himself, gathering the brass-colored and silvery-white components, so tiny and intricate that they made Traynor's head spin, into his chubby hands. He concentrated on assembling them, and before long, as if by magic, a delicate model emerged from his palms. Its main body was silvery white, with an open cockpit, a gold-colored front, and a propeller. Traynor recognized that part because the Airships in his grandmother's arsenal had them too! Long, thick metal sheets extended from either side of the oval body, with wheeled supports beneath it.

"It's beautiful!" The little Hunter sincerely admired the exquisite craftsmanship. The small model was cool in his hands, its surface pleasantly matte. He did not even need to think to know whose handiwork it was. "But what is it?"

"Um... it's called an airplane. Dad named it. He invented that word too, just like Airship and steam engine."

Ciel picked up a piece of cheesecake and examined its size. He wanted to eat it in three restrained bites, but then remembered that he was with his good friend, so he simply opened wide and stuffed the whole thing into his mouth. "Dad said thith ith what he'th thinking of-a new kind of weaponry." He chewed. "One person flies it, and it's more maneuverable than an Airship. It can carry a Steam Engine Gun and burns some kind of fuel for power." He finally swallowed the cheesecake, then reached for a milk cookie, still wanting more. "Dad said the design is already finished. Once he finds a suitable fuel, it can go straight into production and test flights. If it works, it'll really shine in future wars. He might even develop special passenger planes for travel afterward. Flying through the sky would be faster than a steamship."

"You Artisans are amazing. You always have so many wonderful ideas, and you can actually make them real." At the mention of war, Traynor's eyes sparkled. These past few years had been a period of rapid development for Intis. The whole country was filled with fervent devotion to the Son of Steam and an urgent desire to expand its territory. Born into royalty and a family of Hunters in such an environment, Traynor naturally looked forward with tremendous excitement to the glorious path he was destined to take.

"Dad is the greatest Artisan."

Ciel sounded rather proud when he said this, but soon wilted again, muttering softly, "...Sigh, why did I have to be Dad's son? My sister is so outstanding. Everyone says she's beautiful and clever, and better suited than me to inherit Dad's title. Mom says my sister could already read and write fluently when she was my age, but I still can't even write properly... I want to become an outstanding Artisan, but my dad is the greatest Artisan of this era. I'm never going to measure up to him."

Traynor's brows knitted.

His friend was good in every other way. He was handy, could turn a few twigs and flowering vines into a beautiful wreath, and was quiet and gentle. He was nothing like Traynor's other cousins, who either greeted him by fighting a couple of rounds to strengthen their bond or were such arrogant little nuisances that they practically needed eyes on their chins to look at anyone-they did not dare make a peep in front of his father, but when it came to bullying him, they were united against a common enemy. But that was beside the point. Ciel's problem was that he could suddenly start wallowing in self-pity and giving up on himself at any moment, then stop thinking and crouch in a little corner, muttering to himself.

"...Of course! After all, there's only been one genius like Uncle Gustav in the entire Fifth Epoch!"

Traynor could not help defending his friend. When he saw Ciel about to speak again, he immediately grabbed two cookies and stuffed them into his mouth, then continued making his point. "Sure, Uncle Gustav is the only person who invented the steam engine! And he's the only Son of Steam! But did he invent every single thing we use in our lives now?!"

"Didn't he..."

"Don't interrupt me!" The Hunter raised his voice and slapped the table hard. "Did Uncle Gustav invent this?"

"No..."

"Then what about this?" Traynor patted the rug they were sitting on.

"Not that either."

"Exactly! Uncle didn't invent everything. Before he was born, other Artisans were the ones making things for everyday life!" Perhaps a gift for speeches ran in royal blood. Traynor spoke so passionately that he moved even himself. "Does that mean the efforts and achievements of the other Artisans don't count? Before Uncle Gustav was born, they were the ones changing this world! You'll be an Artisan in the future too! Ciel, whether you're amazing or not, you'll still be one of the people changing the world!"

Ciel's eyes grew brighter and brighter. Suddenly, he lowered his head and wiped his eyes so quickly that Traynor almost missed it.

"I... I understand." For some reason, Ciel sounded choked up. "I'll work hard to become a good Artisan! I'll do what I can to help others, and faithfully follow the Church and God."

"That's more like it." Traynor felt immensely pleased. His throat was a little dry, and he began wondering what drink he could get after going home.

Seeing his friend sit back down and carefully put away the airplane model, Ciel's eyes shifted, and he asked quietly, "Dad's been coming through the back door to your house a lot lately. Has he been talking about anything with Uncle Edward?"

Traynor looked thoughtful. "I'm not sure. Usually Mom goes with Dad to entertain Uncle Gustav, and I take the chance to sneak out and play, like now." Then he caught on, and his expression suddenly turned rather fierce as he cried softly, "Ciel! Did your sister tell you to ask that?!"

No matter how fiercely an eight-year-old tried to look as though he was about to silence his friend for good, he would not frighten anyone-unless the other person was also eight, in which case it was still quite intimidating.

"I-I-I-my sister saw me when I ran home!"

Ciel hurriedly protested his innocence, spilling his sister's entire "plot" without a second thought to placate his only true friend. "My sister said she'd tell Mom if I didn't agree! She's always like that, worrying about other things! What do grown-up matters have to do with us? She actually wanted to turn me into a... spy! Yes, a spy!"

"Don't ask again!" Traynor said fiercely. In his rather frightening expression and tone, and his instinctive knack for intimidation, one could faintly glimpse the childhood shadow of the "warmonger" he would become thirty years later. But after snapping at Ciel, he saw that his friend looked ready to cry and hurriedly softened his voice to make amends. "I understand! Don't cry. It's not your fault! I won't talk to you like that next time!"

"I really don't know what Dad and Uncle talked about... Oh, right! Mom just told me yesterday that when I'm a bit older, she'll take me traveling to other countries, like Feynapotter and the Southern Continent. She also said we might not even need passports by then. I don't know what she meant."

"Um... no passports? Does that mean we could just go straight there?" Ciel thought for a moment. "I don't really understand either..."

"Oh, forget it. What do grown-up matters have to do with us?" Traynor echoed his friend and reached for the remaining cake and cookies. "If you're not eating them, I will!"

"Wait, didn't we agree those were for me?"

TBC

Writing this sort of foreshadowing and side-story material goes especially quickly...

*These were stories that had once happened, warm and beautiful, then shattered by reality, and finally buried deep in the memories of those who remained alive.