Shadow Oath

Chapter 49: Nightmare (2)

‘I ended up lying to Charlon.’

Demion couldn’t bring himself to speak honestly about his dream.

The dream he truly had was different.

In the dream, he was in Hagra Olga’s house. Olga was there, Charlon was there, and Stuga was absent. Up to that point, he had been truthful. But Jedric was there as well.

‘Your Highness will die. In the most miserable and painful way you can imagine!’

Olga prophesied. Then the surroundings darkened, and everything disappeared.

At that moment, Charlon stood up.

Jedric also stood up.

The two left Demion behind and went somewhere.

Demion shouted.

‘Where are you going, leaving me behind? Didn’t you hear what Olga said? I’m going to die. Why aren’t you saying anything?’

The two held hands. They gazed at each other with tender eyes, unmistakably looking like affectionate lovers, and kept walking away.

‘Don’t leave me behind.’

When Demion recounted this part of the dream to the three, he repeatedly emphasized that it was just a dream. He wanted to convince himself.

‘It’s just a dream. Those two can’t fall in love and leave me behind. Charlon is my betrothed, and I’m so in love with her. She would never betray me.’

Then, he suddenly recalled something.

‘Have I ever told Charlon that I love her?’

He hadn’t.

Because saying such a thing to a woman he had known for less than a week felt insincere.

‘Has she ever told me that she loves me?’

He hoped it wasn’t just a fleeting passion. That’s why he believed they refrained from mentioning love.

When recounting the part of the dream where Ramuel appeared, Demion wasn’t entirely honest either.

‘Die, Demion.’

Ramuel had shouted as he stabbed him with a sword, but Demion couldn’t bring himself to relay it as it was.

‘You can’t take what’s mine. You’ll have nothing. No land, no woman, no throne. Everything is mine.’

And the sky roared.

‘Come here.’

Demion leaped into the mouth of the whale.

‘You were mine from the beginning.’

Struggling to shake off the nightmare, Demion opened his eyes. He was seated in the chair reserved only for the chieftain of the Ellum Tribe.

Looking down, he saw Olga kneeling in front of the blazing fire, as intense as the one during the banquet the night before. She was glancing around with frightened eyes. She looked like a kitten, snatched from its mother’s arms and thrown onto a cold stone floor.

Next to Olga was a stain of blood left behind by Clave.

‘They didn’t clean it properly.’

Demion had ordered the knights to discreetly retrieve Clave’s body.

The knights wrapped the corpse in a large cloth and took it away. Whether they could manage to smuggle it out without being caught by the Gerans and deliver it to his father remained uncertain. While royal knights excelled in battle, covert tasks like this weren’t their forte.

“Look at me, Hagra,” Demion commanded.

As Olga kept glancing at Jedric, Stuga, and Charlon beside her, Ikahm barked at her in the Geran language. Then, he forcibly grabbed her face and lifted it.

‘I’m not sure if bringing Ikahm was a good idea.’

It wasn’t the knights who brought Olga but Ikahm himself.

Demion had told Jedric, ‘There’s no need to hide the fact that I met Olga yesterday. Inform Ikahm in advance to avoid any misunderstandings.’ The knights followed the instructions and informed Ikahm, who then personally brought Olga.

Inside the banquet hall, only the royal knights of Triton and the knights of Borne were present. The only other Geran was Jedric. Standing alone amidst armed enemies, Ikahm showed no signs of intimidation.

‘Remarkable, truly. I couldn’t do it.’

Five royal knights stood by Demion, while three of Borne’s knights guarded Charlon. General Terrdin arrived late, accompanied by three of his knights.

Stuga and Jedric deliberately stayed back.

Demion hadn’t intended to allow the knights of Borne inside. However, Charlon argued that to properly cover up the situation, it was better to let them in.

‘If only Your Highness’s knights enter and attempt to hide something, the knights of Borne will report suspicious circumstances to Ruseph. Knowing Ruseph’s nature, he’ll certainly dig into it. But if you let the knights in and show them interrogating Olga, they’ll only connect it to the commotion that occurred in front of Olga’s house last night.’

It was a reasonable argument. So, as soon as Clave’s body was removed, Charlon personally summoned the knights of Borne.

‘She’s a wise woman. She handles things I wouldn’t notice or easily overlook. And yet, I doubted her because of some ridiculous dream!’

Demion’s anger toward Olga, crouched like a criminal, grew even stronger.

“Did you use some strange trick on us yesterday, Hagra Olga?”

“I don’t understand what you mean, Your Highness.”

Olga lowered her head. The mysterious air about her from the previous night was nowhere to be seen.

That was partially because Demion had intended to destroy that atmosphere. It had arisen from being in that room, that woman’s space. That had to be broken.

“You served us tea yesterday, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“What did you put in it?”

“Nothing.”

“There was a strange smell coming from the teacup.”

“What kind of smell? I always clean my cups thoroughly.”

“It was a fragrant smell. But if you cleaned it well, such a scent shouldn’t linger.”

“I sometimes leave tea leaves or dried flower petals in the cups. I do it on purpose. It’s harmless in terms of cleanliness…”

Demion interrupted her with a shout.

“The prophecy about our future you mentioned yesterday—was it true?”

“As I said before casting the divination, I simply convey what I read from the runes.”

“After hearing that prophecy, I had a nightmare. Was that just a coincidence?”

Though calling Olga here had been to discuss this, he regretted it once he spoke.

‘I swore not to be swayed, yet here I am. The knights must be laughing at me…’

But he couldn’t take back what he had already said.

“If you tell me it was just a coincidence, I’ll let it go.”

That was truly his intention. He could drop it here and pursue other opportunities later. At least the fact that all four of them had nightmares simultaneously could be concealed.

‘I won’t show my hand, let it pass, and call her separately later. For now, all I need is some commotion to overshadow Clave’s death.’

So insisting it was a coincidence would have sufficed. Yet, Olga didn’t answer easily. She hesitated, groaned, and finally spoke.

“Dreams reflect reality, and reality creates dreams. My prophecy was merely a simple task to guide the conqueror who will rule this village on how to deal with our superstitions. Your Highness said you would answer later, but in truth, the answer you should have given at that moment was the simple phrase I suggested in advance.”

“When the waves of fate crash over me, I will cover them with my will. You will witness me overcoming them… That’s what you said, right?”

“Exactly. But Your Highness didn’t say it. Even if you deny it, you were already influenced. Perhaps that’s what caused the nightmare?”

Demion resisted the urge to nod.

Even the knights, who didn’t fully understand the situation, seemed taken in by her words. Their initially stern gazes softened—a clear sign they were swayed.

‘This is a kind of test. If I’m to rule this place, I have to go through this.’

Olga had said that declaring “I won’t believe in such superstitions” would bind him to those words—and that became true. Now, he was desperately trying to deny the superstitions.

“Fine. Then another process must be necessary to break free from that influence. Your prophecy yesterday was full of negative omens. How can I prevent them?”

Olga didn’t respond. She seemed to be gauging Demion’s reaction or perhaps Ikahm’s.

“Speak. Didn’t you say yesterday to drink dried herb extract three times a day and pay ten gold coins in return? I’ll do it. What kind of herb extract do I need?”

When Olga still hesitated, Ikahm barked in Geran, seemingly forcing her to answer.

Olga flinched and hunched her shoulders. It was pitiable enough to make Demion want to stop here.

‘If this pity I feel is part of her trick, then I’ve already fallen for it.’

Olga finally spoke with difficulty.

“The herb extract is a metaphor.”

“I know. Now give me specific instructions, not metaphors.”

“Since the prophecy was read with runes, the way to prevent it must also be read with runes…”

“Then read them. Didn’t you say that when ripples arise, you throw another stone? Read the runes. I’ll throw the stone.”

Olga looked at Ikahm again.

Demion shouted angrily.

“Don’t look to your chieftain for approval. I am the one commanding you here!”

After shouting, Demion regretted it again.

It was the way Fried Gallant interrogated people.

‘I’m yelling in the tone I hate most. Disgusting.’

He worried about what Charlon might think but couldn’t bring himself to look at her.

“Understood, Your Highness.”

Olga untied a pouch from her waist. It turned out there were two pouches tied together from the start. She opened one, and the flat stones she had used yesterday spilled onto the floor.

Olga took out the stones one by one and placed them neatly. Her gestures were the same as the day before, but her head was bowed deeply, and her hands and shoulders trembled. She was so hunched over that her face nearly touched the ground, making her expression impossible to see. Yet she still resembled a frightened kitten.

“The runes speak. Listen to the voice called by the northern wind. Soon, the earth will tremble, and the mountain of fire will exhale its breath, leading you to the sanctuary of the ancient gods…”

Olga tried to continue, but Demion stopped her.

“Enough!”

“Pardon?”

“Don’t confuse me with poetic metaphors. What I need are straightforward instructions, like drinking herb extract three times.”

‘This is also Father’s tone. I can’t escape it.’

Demion found every word coming out of his mouth intolerable, yet he couldn’t change course now.

“Then I’ll do so.”

Olga swallowed nervously and continued.

“About an hour’s ride north of here, there is an ancient cave. Before the Gerans lived here, before the Kingdom of Triton’s people came to this land, it was built by ancient people. It was a temple dedicated to a god they worshiped named Iktaron, later called Raham, the Father of the Gods.”

“...You mean they referred to the same god by different names?”

“The name of our god is said to be a changed form of the ancient god’s name. I’ve always called it that, and I don’t know exactly what the old name means. My grandmother called it that, and she said her grandmother called it so as well. Forgive me. I merely read the runes. I do not know everything.”

Olga spoke respectfully.

“Fine. The temple of Iktaron. What next?”

“Burn this powder there in the fire.”

Olga pushed the second pouch forward and slightly opened it, revealing red powder inside.

“There should be an appropriate spot within the temple. When red smoke rises, the four of you must share each other’s blood. This is our Geran way. It’s a vow not to harm one another. Afterward, listen to the voice of the god. You’ll find a way to avoid Tanu.”

“Avoid Tanu? Is that also written in the runes?”

“Yes, it is.”

‘The four of us?’

When Demion looked at Charlon, she was already looking at him.

Jedric was glaring solely at Olga. Stuga, seated away from the firelight, had an expression hidden in the shadows.

‘I never mentioned that four of us had nightmares! Does this woman know all four of us had nightmares? Or is she just saying we should all go together today because we came together yesterday?’

“What is Tanu?”

Demion feigned ignorance and asked.

Jedric hadn’t explained it to him, so Olga would naturally assume Demion didn’t know.

“In our mythology, Tanu is the god of death who collects shadows.”

“Just another heretical god, isn’t it? Then I won’t go. I have no reason to fear such a malicious deity, nor any reason to visit a heretical temple.”

“That is your choice, Your Highness. However, the prophecy states that disaster will unfold if you do not go.”

“It’s remarkable how much those few stones can say. What kind of disaster are we talking about?”

Demion asked sarcastically.

“If Tanu collects the shadows of three figures, the serpent of the apocalypse, Malarrhatu, will descend. Then Ramelon will blow the second trumpet, Akamantum will ignite the skies, and the battlefield will blaze. The war of gods will begin, and when the serpent consumes the final shadow, humanity will cease to exist.”

“So grand, yet none of it makes sense.”

Demion tried hard to discard his father’s tone but ended up sounding like the Archbishop Aikop, the tone he hated second most.

“This world was created by the one true god, and only His name protects us. These heretical gods—I can’t even remember all their names anymore! They can’t do anything to us.”

“I understand. As I said, I only read the runes.”

“That’s enough. Leave.”

As Olga gathered the pouches containing the powder and the runes, Demion asked.

“Why did you bring the powder and the runes? No, how did you know to bring them? It’s as if you prepared for me to ask about dreams.”

Olga seemed puzzled as she answered.

“I am a Hagra. I carry these tools wherever I go, like how a warrior carries a sword or a herbalist brings tools to dig the earth. Besides, after what happened last night, when Ehodin dragged me out with such a grim expression, I assumed it was related to the prophecy and brought them along. It was an easy guess.”

Olga continued, speaking in a small, almost crawling voice.

“As I mentioned yesterday, if Your Highness feels unwell today, it’s easier to suspect the teacup briefly soaked with tea leaves than the spoiled honey wine or boar meat you ate last night. That is what being a Hagra entails.”

‘When I laughed at the idea that the Hagra’s curse gave someone a cold yesterday, now it seems I’m doing the same thing myself.’

Olga accidentally dropped the pouches she had been packing.

“I offer them to you. Without them, I cannot cast prophecies. Even if you throw the powder into the fire instead of the temple of Iktaron, there will be nothing I can do. You are the conqueror. Even if you take everything from us, we cannot resist…”

Ikahm clamped his hand over Olga’s mouth, gripping so hard it seemed he intended to break her jaw.

“Stop it! What are you doing?”

Demion shouted. Ikahm said something, and Jedric quickly explained.

“He says not to listen to the Hagra’s words. He claims she’s a temptress who caused defeats in war…”

“I said stop, Ikahm!”

Demion’s shout and Jedric’s stern command in the Geran language finally made Ikahm release Olga after holding her for a long moment.

However, he dropped her with such force that she fell to the ground. Half her face was reddened from Ikahm’s grip, making the already frail-looking woman appear even more pitiful.

No one helped her up. Demion felt guilty but couldn’t bring himself to comfort her after everything he had said.

“I didn’t summon her to punish her. Imprison the Hagra again. But!”

Demion added as a precaution.

“Do it without harming her!”

Jedric relayed Demion’s orders, and Ikahm immediately took Olga away.

The banquet hall’s main doors opened and closed with loud bangs.

The relative silence that followed felt all the heavier. The stillness seemed to carry reproach.

Unable to bear the silence, Demion broke it.

“‘Everyone’ leave.”

All the knights left without a word. Surprisingly, the people Demion wanted to stay did not interpret the command to leave as applying to them.

Jedric, Demion, and Stuga.

And Terrdin.

“You’ve been silent, General. Isn’t it time to speak?”

Demion said, glancing around the now-empty banquet hall.

“I still have nothing to say, Your Highness. I was simply delayed in deciding whether to follow your command to leave, and that’s why I’m still here.”

Terrdin replied gently.

Demion managed a small smile.

“Don’t you have anything to criticize me for?”

“Criticize? You handled it calmly and well. I do, however, have one question.”

Terrdin pointed to the two pouches Olga had left behind.

One contained rune stones, the other red powder.

“What do you intend to do with those?”