3 bar menu

A Secret Sleeps in the Forest – Part 02

---

Translator: Kell

---

Meanwhile, Kazuya was running all over the place—the square, the cemetery—in search of Victorique.

The things flashing through his mind made him anxious. The wolves chasing them yesterday. The eyeball in the jug. Someone hiding under the sheets in the next room to scare them. The horrific murder that happened just now.

Kazuya wandered around, asking the villagers if they had seen the girl with him, but to no avail.

As he breathed a sigh, he felt something pointy poking the back of his head. He turned around and saw what looked like the tip of a golden drill filling his vision. Fearing his eyes getting stabbed, Kazuya backed away.

“You there,” said a man’s voice, quivering with anger. “Kazuya Kujou, was it?”

“Inspector?!”

Inspector Grevil de Blois was standing there, carrying an oversized, square travel suitcase. His face was contorted, and his hands were trembling. He seemed furious.

“Huge luggage you got there,” Kazuya remarked.

“What…”

“Victorique’s luggage was also awfully big. Must be genetic.”

“What are you…”

Veins popped on the man’s forehead. “What are you doing here?! And where’s uhh… that long-haired, sassy, little…”

“Do you mean your sister?” Kazuya asked.

The inspector did not answer. He stamped his foot, breathing hard.

“She’s here, isn’t she?” he said finally.

“Yeah…”

“You would never come to this village alone.”

“Her mother apparently grew up here.”

The inspector shook his head and groaned. “Where is she?!”

“I’m actually looking for her as well.”

“How can you be so carefree?! As you know, she needs special permission to go out. That’s why she has hardly ever left the campus. Before she was admitted to the academy, she was locked inside a tower. If they find out that she came all the way here without permission, I’ll be in trouble!” He stamped his foot again.

“Trouble how? Why can’t Victorique go outside? I think anyone can take an occasional vacation, or go shopping on the weekends.”

The inspector ignored him.

Kazuya sighed. “I’m surprised you knew she’d be here.”

“Of course I know. She had never snuck out of the academy before. If she did, the only place she would go would be here.”

“…I see.”

While they were talking, Kazuya spotted a woman with red hair from afar. Before she could pass by, she gasped and whirled around.

“Oh, by the way, Inspector. The person who stole the Dresden plate at the bazaar came here with us for some reason. You know, the nun… a weird nun, though, I gotta say. She likes gambling, booze, and money.”

Curiously, the inspector again ignored him.

Kazuya studied the inspector’s face. Something’s not right.

Thinking back, the inspector was acting strange when Victorique solved the theft of the Dresden plate. When he found out who the culprit was, he left the library with a frown and did not arrest them. And now, it looked like Mildred was trying to run away the moment she spotted the inspector.

While Kazuya was deep in thought, the front door of the manor opened and Victorique stepped out. The inspector gasped. He placed his hands on Kazuya’s shoulders and shook him.

“Listen! Tell her to return to the academy immediately! Understood?!”

“Why don’t you tell her yourself?!”

Hearing the two arguing, Victorique raised her head, but she did not seem surprised. Kazuya pulled himself away from the inspector and rushed toward Victorique.

“Where on earth have you been?” he asked. “I’ve been looking all over the place for you.”

Kazuya was all worked up, but Victorique continued walking at a quick pace, lost in thought.

When he didn’t stop talking, she finally noticed him. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Don’t give me that. Your brother’s here, by the way.”

“Ah, Grevil. I was expecting him to show up soon.”

“Really? How did you know?”

She looked at him with genuine surprise on her face. “You didn’t notice?”

“Notice what?”

“That.”

“What’s that?”

“Never mind,” she groaned.

She walked away without another word, and Kazuya quickly followed.

“Anyway, you can’t just wander around all alone after such a horrific incident,” he said. “If you don’t want to go home, fine, but please don’t leave my side.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m worried about you!” he flared.

Victorique regarded his face curiously at first, but her expression gradually hardened. “I don’t have time for this right now.”

“Is that all you have to say? I’m just worried—”

“You don’t have to worry about me.”

Kazuya was taken aback.

“Leave me alone. Why are you so nosy? Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“What?!”

Kazuya’s face turned red with rage. His mouth flapped open and shut as he tried to argue back, when he heard someone calling them from afar.

They turned around to see Ambrose standing in front of the cathedral, beckoning them. They exchanged looks. After calling a temporary truce on their bickering, they headed for the cathedral.

---

Several teenage boys and girls had gathered in front of the cathedral. Ambrose looked exhausted, but he tried to be cheerful.

“Elder Sergius decided to continue the Midsummer Festival,” he said.

According to Ambrose, youngsters were gathered up at the cathedral during the evening of the Midsummer Festival to tell their future.

After the skit, in which the Summer Army emerged victorious, the cathedral would be left unoccupied in the evening. The ancestors then come to the square through the empty cathedral, and at night a ceremony would be held in which the ancestors were invited to witness the village’s bountiful harvest.

Before that, a ritual would be held, where the young ones were told their future in the form of questions to the spirits of their ancestors. Apparently, the village chief, Sergius, would speak on behalf of the spirits.

“Since you’re here, why don’t you two give it a go? Just get in line. I’ll be assisting Elder Sergius.”

Victorique didn’t want to bother, but Kazuya insisted, so they got in line.

It was humid inside the cathedral. It had a high ceiling that was narrower near the top, and even a whisper seemed to reverberate through the place. Stained glass glittered on the windows.

The interior was dark and somber. Thin rays of sunlight cast through small flower-shaped holes on the rose window fell on the floor. Glittering dust drifted in the air like snowflakes.

In the large hall were five rows of stone benches, sprinkled with pink, orange, and cream-colored flowers.

At the farthest end of the cathedral was a small chapel that looked like a tiny house with its pointy roof. It was dark and gloomy, with no flowers or sunlight to brighten it up.

A faint light came on inside the chapel. Tiny candle flames flickered in the dark. Next to the candle stand was an old vase, illuminated as if it was something precious. Kazuya realized that it was the same vase that the men dropped in the holy water.

As Kazuya’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw Sergius and Ambrose sitting inside the chapel. Sergius was wearing a toga reminiscent of a monk. A purple-colored sash hung down from his shoulder to the floor. Eyes closed, he gulped down water from a glass. Each time he emptied the glass, Ambrose would refill it.

The boys and girls took turns going inside the chapel and whispering something to Sergius. The village chief would then close his eyes and go quiet, as if in prayer, before whispering something back.

Sometimes his message was incredibly long, and sometimes they just spanned a few words. One by one, the youths left, some with satisfied smiles, others frightened and crying.

A serene and somewhat pious vibe filled the cathedral. If at first Kazuya was flippant about it, the look on the teenagers’ faces made him serious.

The future, huh? What should I ask?

Kazuya’s turn came.

Victorique gave him a shove. “You go first.”

“What? Me? F-Fine…” Kazuya quietly stepped forward to Sergius. “Let’s see…”

Sergius closed his eyes. Kazuya’s mind was busy thinking about what to ask.

Maybe I’ll ask if I become someone that can help my country and the world.

“Well, I have this friend…” His lips moved on their own, and he started saying things that were not on his mind. And once he started talking, for some reason, he couldn’t stop. “She’s a girl. She’s smart, has a sharp tongue, and she’s such a handful. But I strongly believe that it’s not my fault. There’s just something wrong with her. She always makes fun of me, works me like a slave, and then treats me like a nuisance.”

“…That sounds terrible.”

“Yes. It’s just one headache after another, and it’s really pissing me off.”

“…I understand.”

“I’m just really, really mad.”

“Hmm…”

“So what I’m saying is…”

“…Go ahead.”

“I, uhh…”

Kazuya hesitated. He gathered the courage to speak what was on his mind.

“Will Victorique and I be able to stay together forever?”

His face turned red, and he suddenly felt very sad. He strongly regretted asking the question. Frustration, hope, and other inexplicable feelings filled his chest. He tried his best to ignore them. He thought that these feelings were unmanly.

The chapel was wrapped in silence. And darkness.

Something sparkled. It was dark inside the chapel, but a ray of sunlight came in from somewhere, falling on Sergius as he closed his eyes, glittering for a moment, before vanishing.

It seemed much darker now. Biting his lip, Kazuya waited.

“You will not die together,” Sergius murmured in a raspy voice.

Kazuya raised his head, and Sergius slowly opened his eyes. His pupils were gone; only two glassy balls of white remained on his face. He opened his mouth and let out a groan.

At first Kazuya couldn’t quite make out what he was saying, but eventually he picked up the words.

“Years from now… a gale strong enough to shake the world will blow.”

“Okay…”

“Your bodies are light. No matter how strong your feelings are, you are no match for the wind.”

“…”

“The gale will separate you.”

Kazuya felt his blood run cold.

“But worry not.”

“…”

“Your hearts will never be apart.”

“Our hearts?”

“Yes.”

The black of Sergius’ eyes returned. He drank directly from the jug, the water spilling from his mouth to his chin and down to his toga like a tiny waterfall.

“You may leave,” he said, then called for Victorique next. “Do not ask about your mother,” he said firmly.

---

 

---