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Dreamer – Part 08

“Brian. I heard maman’s voice just now!” Victorique cried.

The port was overflowing with people in travel attire. Numerous ships were anchored, unloading passengers and welcoming new ones.

To hide his distinctive red hair, Brian kept his hat pulled low over his eyes. Victorique, too, had her hair neatly tucked away beneath a dark, burgundy-colored bonnet.

“Cordelia’s voice? Ah, I heard it too.”

“Yeah…”

The two fell silent.

Soon, a stylish and strikingly handsome young man with flowing golden hair—Grevil—came rushing back from a distance.

Staring up at him, Victorique remarked, “You stopped fixing your hair. Are you in your rebellious phase?”

“What? Y-You insolent little…” Grevil retorted with a trembling fist. “I can’t just stroll around a public port with that hairdo like an idiot. Even from a distance, government officials will instantly recognize me as the handsome eldest son of the Blois family.”

“You may stop now, Grevil.”

“…Huh?”

“I got tired of looking at it.”

“Y-You brat…”

“Come on. This isn’t the time for a sibling quarrel. What’s the situation, dunce?” Brian asked.

“Not you too. I’ll have you know, you wouldn’t be here without my help. Saubreme is full of checkpoints. Thanks to my government pass, you two made it here without any trouble.”

“Come to think of it, that’s true. Thanks.”

“Thank you.”

Brian and Victorique replied in a similar, arrogant and devilish tone.

Grevil writhed in frustration. “This is why I hate Gray Wolves. Why I despise them. Damn it…”

“But you still helped us, Grevil,” Victorique said in a slightly exasperated tone.

Grevil turned away with a snort.

“Strange. Why are you doing this?”

Grevil, glaring down at his step-sister with disdain, said, “For the record, it’s not because I like you. I still don’t like you. Hmph. It doesn’t matter, does it?”

“Hmph. Of course not!”

“I just did what I believed was right. The god inside of me, in other words, my moral compass, commanded me not to let you die.”

“Who would’ve thought Albert’s son would have morals?”

“I am not my father, Victorique. You probably didn’t know that.”

The siblings held each other’s gaze for a long while. Brian let out a tired sigh.

Victorique turned away. “Hmph. It would seem so.”

“It’s time to bid farewell, Victorique. My little sister cursed by the powers of old. The sinister fairy atop the tower. The strange girl in frills.” Grevil slowly averted his gaze from Victorique. He then turned to Brian and pointed to a ship. “The ships heading to the New World are heavily guarded. The Ministry of the Occult predicts movements and dispatches officials accordingly. I’m not sure if you can safely board with your magic tricks, but today’s a bit risky for gambling, no?”

“I see.”

“You can board ships heading to allied countries relatively freely. The best plan would be to avoid major nations and choose a seemingly insignificant small country as your destination. You can then head to the New World from there. What do you think?”

“That’s a government official for you, I suppose.”

“Hmph.”

Grevil pointed to a particular ship. It wasn’t as huge as the others, but it was splendidly built and stood tall in a deep black hue.

Victorique gazed up at the ship and shuddered. Just moments ago, an ominous dream haunted her—a vision of Death’s vessel arriving at the threshold, ferrying departed souls to an eternal land. She scanned her surroundings.

Every ship, large and sinister, now seemed like a terrifying entity planning to transport her to the realm of the dead. Victorique, attempting to conquer the encroaching fear with her intellect, found herself overpowered by an invisible dread, rendering her weak and vulnerable. The petite girl, holding back tears, bit her glossy, cherry lips.

Be strong, Victorique.

Suddenly, a voice intruded, a voice belonging to a boy who shouldn’t be there.

You’re a lot stronger than this, aren’t you? Back then, when there was a murderer right beside us, you were scared, but you didn’t show it, and instead you just kept grumbling and hurling insults at me. You even helped me at one point. Hey, are you listening?

Victorique glanced up at the ship. The voice was coming from there. Squinting, she saw the illusion of a boy standing on the deck, leaning against the railing, waving down at her. His jet-black hair tossed in the wind, and his black eyes sparkled with joy.

On the ghost ship Queen Berry or the luxurious Old Masquerade, you secretly protected me, didn’t you? You acted scared to steer me clear of danger. And on the night when the Nameless Village burned down, you saved me from falling off a cliff.

“Kujou… Kujou!” Victorique called out to the boy in a feeble voice.

I know you can do it. Let’s meet again. Please, Victorique… My Victorique… Survive…

“Kujou… My Kujou!”

I hope one day we meet again, in a place as verdant as the conservatory we used to frequent.

“Kujou, wait! That’s an order!”

A gust of wind swept through, and the illusion gradually dissipated.

Victorique hung her head. A faint, resolute light, reminiscent of Cordelia’s, kindled in her eyes. A light absent from the gaze of the frail, emaciated girl from just moments before.

“I need courage. An indomitable courage. I will hang on to life and the future until my very last breath. We will survive.”

“That’s the spirit, squirt!”

Brian, with a casual and unreserved demeanor that he never showed towards Cordelia, effortlessly scooped up Victorique and began walking towards the ship. He seemed torn, stopping a few times, before resuming again.

Victorique swung her legs playfully. Then, she looked behind her.

A handsome young man with golden hair flowing down to his chest like a prince—Inspector Grevil de Blois, Victorique’s brother—waved his hand. Wearing his customary scowl, he seemed to convey his intense dislike for his sister. Not to be outdone, Victorique scrunched up her face and stuck out her tongue. Grevil gnashed his teeth, stomping his foot in frustration.

Victorique reverted to her usual emotionless face, her arms and legs hanging limply.

However, her demeanor didn’t suggest a lack of emotions; instead, it seemed like she was attempting to portray herself as a cold doll while concealing something fiery within. Grevil, observing this drastic change in his half-sister, felt a sudden shudder in his heart. He was glad that he had avoided committing a grave crime, that he had helped Victorique.

“You were a wolf, but you were also human,” he muttered. “I never knew that, Victorique.”

He slowly lifted his gaze towards the ship. They chose to board a vessel bound for a small island country in the Far East, a minor ally of the Sauville Kingdom, deliberately avoiding the one heading for the New World.

However, even if they reached their destination safely, Kazuya Kujou would no longer be there. Conscription of students had already begun in that country, and Grevil was acutely aware that even teenagers were being sent to the treacherous battlefields of Europe, Russia, and the New World, sacrificing their young lives one after another.

Upon reaching the small country in the East, they would transfer to a ship bound for the New World—an optimal route for Victorique’s safety.

Beautiful, little fairy. Would I ever again have the chance to meet you?

My only blood sister, Victorique, with an inexplicably complex soul, now is the time to solve the fifteenth mystery. Cross the sea, embark on a journey to a distant world, and find what’s important to you there.

As his half-sister moved away, he strained his eyes painfully. Noticing his gaze, Victorique gave a start, glared at him, and stuck out her tongue again.

Grevil, genuinely furious this time, said, “At least show a bit of gratitude… Ah, no…” He played with his golden hair fluttering in the wind and slowly nodded. “I’m sure she feels very grateful, in her own way.”

The curse on his golden hair had lifted, and it glowed brightly as it gently swayed in the wind.

“Until the very end, you were a devilish little brat, with zero charm and nary a shred of respect for your brother.”

Grevil stared intently at the small face of his half-sister. The distance made it impossible to discern her expression now.

“This is as far as I can help you. If possible, please survive. My sassy, peculiar, strange, one and only sister.”

Grevil smiled. Then, he cast his gaze down sullenly and turned his back to the ship, walking away briskly. He turned around and looked up at the ship again.

The whistle sounded menacingly, and Grevil jumped. He smiled once more, gazing at the ship with a lonely countenance.

---

The setting sun bathed the sea in an orange glow, casting a luminous path from the horizon toward the harbor. The ship leisurely embarked on its journey along this illuminated trail.

The whistle sounded multiple times.

The harbor was bustling with people bidding their farewells, others eagerly anticipating arrivals, and those disembarking from the ship. Naturally, no one was aware that two ancient creatures had just escaped the Old World on that vessel. The ship silently glided across the sea, gradually diminishing into a small black dot. It distanced itself from the port of Sauville, fading away into the vast ocean with barely a sound.