77 Cold

In the tranquil, secluded space, a lone figure sat on a chair, gently flipping the pages of the book held in their hands. The slender fingers danced between the sentences, a soft voice frequently humming the words as they read or sang a delicate melody under their lips.

And time passed like that. How long? How much? There were no clocks in the space, only an endless land of naught.

"Ah?"

Then suddenly, the finger upturning the page halted midway through. The figure raised her head. An inquisitive light glowed in her purplish, sandy-brown eyes.

"Is it... That?"

Tak. A coffee table appeared next to her. The book was put down and a cup of steaming tea was picked up. As she leaned back on the chair, a radiant frail mana flickered across her face, soon expanding and turning into what seemed to be a picture. The scene displayed in the picture kept moving, showing what the depicted people were doing at the moment.

In the portrayed view, two young men were strolling up a road to a town under pouring rain and fierce winds. No words were being exchanged, not a single sentence. They walked side by side, each engrossed in their own thoughts. 

Taking her eyes off the two, she glanced at what the cloaked one held. An old, ancient notebook. 

And her gaze lingered on that notebook. For a few seconds, a few minutes, or maybe more. 

"So they found that one..."

A husky, hoarse voice.

"I'd completely forgotten about it..."

That notebook. That aged holder of cherished memories. 

"But... not you..."

She reached out with a hand, touching the screen of the floating picture. Her fingertips grazed past the magic spell and moved through the body of the cloaked man, stopping right before the other's figure. 

A smile bloomed on her face; her eyes half closed, a long-buried emotion unhurriedly surfaced on her being. A suppressed exhale escaped her mouth as her eyes lost focus, seemingly engrossed in a faraway thought. 

Meanwhile, the two figures arrived at the town, making their way towards an inn. While the golden-haired one shivered under the cold, the other covered himself in his cloak, seemingly unfazed by the harsh weather. Through the hood of his oversized, drenched gray cloak, a stack of dark blue hair stuck out, messed up, and washed over by the rain. His indifferent face would turn from time to time to peek at the person to his side, scanning him briefly before looking away. His face was young, thin, and tired, yet held a mysterious charm in it, especially the deep blue eyes. 

Her unfocused gaze suddenly darted to him, eyes dilated in great shock. 

"He..."

Her body shot up to her feet. 

"That... That man... Again?"

Her mixed-colored pupils lit up akin to two magic spells, peering down on the person in the scene. The more she looked, the deeper her face drowned in anguish. 

Click. The two people entered their inn, tiptoeing to their respective rooms. And she watched it all in silence. 

"...There is no way!"

BAM

The table right before her feet was kicked aside, shattering to pieces. Hands clenched, teeth grinding, she fumed as she walked away from the still-displaying magic spell. The purple tips of the girl's blonde hair fluttered as she moved, her motion leaving a trail of mana behind. 

"I won't let that man ruin everything again!"

High heels thumped the ground repeatedly, creating a pleasant melody as she walked. The landscape around her changed rapidly, turning into a spacious mansion. Her comfortable outfit shifted to a splendid one adorned with mana stones up to down, and her long hair floated up as a hairpin of flowers placed itself in between the silky strands. 

It was time to meet with one very important figure.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Every year, when the rainy season arrives, the travelers, and those who wander around, start thinking of a shelter for themselves, searching for a place to spend the last days of autumn and winter. The reason was clear; the rainy and snowy weather wasn't the slightest bit suitable for traveling. Rains could turn into floods and snow could block the paths, make the road impossible to traverse, and freeze people. 

However, even in such conditions, some people were bound to cross the land, no matter how hard or bothersome it seemed.

-Master, this new cloak is softer and thicker, are you warm in it? 

-Yeah. 

He paid so much money for it, so of course it has to keep him warm. The prices in the town they visited were surprisingly high. He wouldn't have purchased anything if Eleen hadn't threatened to poison his food. He was even forced to buy some new clothes! What a waste!

Glancing at the others, they also seemed fine despite the nonstop rain and the chilly wind. All of them purchased winter clothes in the town so they were relatively fine for the time being. 

"A-Achoo!"

Except for one person.

-The Weird Alaric is so weak against cold weather. He caught a cold from last night's short trip. The weather wasn't that cold though, what's he gonna do in winter? The whole while that we were returning he was shivering nonstop. Even the night you found that notebook too, he complained about cold

He was exposed to heavy rain on their way back to the inn, and he woke up with symptoms in the morning. Eleen was so suspicious while examining him that she nearly found out they sneaked out last night. Such a horrifying moment was that.

-Master, what if Alaric dies? 

A low-pitched, nervous whisper. 

-...Who would die from a mere cold? 

The tiny wolf crocked his head towards him, ears flicking one after the other. 

-You did, a few times.

-....

He did? 

'No way, I'm not that weak... I'm... Wait a minute.'

Ian rubbed his chin, mind slumping in the endless pool of his memories. 

'I guess I really did... A few times...'

Distant memories surfaced in his mind, dragging Ian into the hot pressure of shame.

-Whatever, he won't die.

-So you're still the weakest.

-Hey!

He might've died from cold, but that didn't mean it was because he was weak. Ian had died in so many other ways as well. Flu killed him? That didn't mean anything special. Anything could kill him. Really. 

'But wait a minute.'

-Can you remember my previous deaths?

Every time Ian regresses and resets a life, Lior too comes back to him, but not as the same Lior as before, as someone who has left behind a portion of his memories, especially those that relate to how Ian's life ended in that previous life. 

-No? I just guessed. Since anything can kill you, master.

-.....

That... He got tricked into confessing such a shameful thing...

'A child... played tricks on me...'

'Oh but, how smart?! As expected of my Lior!'

'And I fell for it...'

Ian forced down his swollen contrasting emotions. 

'It only shows how smart of a child he is. No. I'm not a fool.'

He was smart, and so was Lior, but Lior might be smarter. No, Lior was surely smarter. 

-Mmm... Say, master... What do you think about that uncle we met last night?

-U-uncle?

Ian almost fell down to his knees.

-Um, since... He was a kind man willing to help this poor child...

-Poor child?

Ian snatched the baby wolf from his shoulder in a haste move, holding him tight in his grasp.

-Who said you are a poor child? Huh? Who said that?

Lior wiggled, struggled, and barely lifted a paw. He rubbed it against Ian's chest as he slowly wagged his tail. 

-No one... Since no one can see Lior.

With his head slumped down, his dark, round eyes peeked at Ian. 

-But that man said he might know a way...

-He didn't say he could make you visible.

-He meant that! I know he meant that! He could also sense Lior, it makes it two people! 

The child's voice rose. He drew himself closer, tapping on Ian's chest with his forepaws. He had such an unsettling expression. It must've been hard, holding himself back from bringing up this topic the whole time.

-Please master, please, please!

Ian agreed with him. That mage probably knew of a way regarding this issue, since there was no reason for him to bring up Lior for another subject.

-Lior.

But that was enough. He didn't want to hear more of it. 

Tap Tap Tap Tap

-Master, please...

Tap

Lior bumped Ian's chest with his head. His voice quaked, hoarse. 

-Master, I want to be seen...

He'd expressed this wish all the time, but never had he been like this. 

Because before, there was no hope. He'd always dreamed but never hoped. 

But now it was different.

-I can see you. Always.

But that hope wasn't something Ian could be happy about. 

'Argh, such a scumbag.'

He was. A wicked, vile creature. He'd always been and was getting an ever more wretched one. 

What was he? A guardian? Someone who claimed to love this child more than anyone? If so, shouldn't he only wish for his happiness? He dared call himself a parent, though in secret, though when only thinking of himself, he did consider himself something close to being a parent. 

Yet he was unwilling to let him go out of his grasp. 

-Please! Please! Please!

Why would he want others to see him? Wasn't he enough? 

Maybe he wasn't.

No. He really wasn't. How could he be? A parent? How was a parent supposed to be? What did he have to do? Ian had no idea, not the slightest clue, not a hint, a memory, an experience to guide him. Not even close to knowing what a guardian would do. Never the tiniest bit enough, in any aspect. 

And the child must've found it hard as well, to rely on someone so incompetent as him, solely because there was no one else to notice its existence. He was bound to put off with Ian since there was no other choice. How he'd tolerated such a human for so long? Maybe he finally had enough. Maybe he would seek a new guardian as soon as the others were able to see him. 

He would definitely do so. What was there to hold him back? Nothing.

But no. Ian should be happy. Ian should be glad. There was a chance for his child's lifelong wish to come true. He should support him, push him forward, run to grasp any hope out there, and pull it towards himself to finally find a way, to push this kid forward, to make him live the wish he'd always dreamed of. 

'I don't want to...'

-Master...

"They won't understand."

The sound of rain pouring concealed his voice, making it only audible to the little wolf. 

-Understand what?

How radiant he was. 

No one would get it. None would understand. Lior was Ian's light. He was only Ian's light. No one would get how precious he is. How bright, brilliant; how unique he is. Cause this child was like a star, like a sun, he was the combination of all the beautiful things in the world, and only to Ian was this understandable. He deserved the best of the best. To be treated just as precious as he was.

...Yet Ian, Ian who believed to cherish this child the most, Ian who called himself the guardian of the kid, so daring as to even label himself a parent from time to time, didn't wish for there to ever be a way that allows this child to be seen by the world. 

So disgustingly despicable.

But why? Was it asking for too much to have just one single thing to himself in this world? One a tiny innocent creature, one a young child, just for himself. Out of all the things in this world, in all his lives, he only wished to hold this child for himself.

"Alright..."

The muffled, quaking voice could solely be heard by Lior.