AceGreen
patreon
TRAS Chapter 104: A Quiet Life on a Loud Mountain
🕑 Added 2025-05-06 15:08:03 +0000 UTCOne week later, Ailn found himself in the Singing Mountains of ark-Chelon.A further day’s ride would bring them to Calum—the capital—and to Ailn’s eyes, it made sense to take care of Sigurd’s personal matters beforehand.
He’d had ample time during his trip to think about just how much Sigurd pissed him off.
“Duty. Yeah right,” Ailn muttered. “How could I forget? It’s always the guys that trumpet the loudest…”
“Though I haven’t been apprised as to what you’ve been ruminating on for the better of seven days…” Kylian offered cautiously. “It clearly has done little to benefit you. Why not drop the matter already?”
“Kylian, let me ask you something. Why do the knights think we’re taking this detour?” Ailn asked.
“...There’s no need to lend an ear to their goss—” Kylian started.
“Just tell me,” Ailn said, giving an exasperated glance to the rest of his retinue who rode behind.
“A few have made jests that you have chosen a most convenient time to visit your mistress,” Kylian admitted. “If such talk troubles you, Ailn, you are well within your rights as duke to rebuke them.”
“Oh, it bothers me,” Ailn said. “It doesn’t even make sense, when I’d hardly ever left Varant before.”
“It’s nonsensical,” Kylian agreed.
“But guess what, Kylian?” Ailn chuckled irritatedly. “Those rumor mongers are half-right. That’s the worst part.”
“Half… What?” Kylian’s face flickered between concern and confusion. “How would…”
Clearly, the knight’s higher virtue held his tongue. But even Kylian couldn’t hide the curiosity in his eyes.
It was a testament to just how deeply ingrained the knights’ impression of Sigurd was—that their commander was duty bound and responsible, if nothing else. As simple as it was to fill in the blanks, the thought never crossed their minds that it was Sigurd who had a lover in these mountains—to say nothing of an illegitimate child.
Yep. The draconian wunderkind of Varant was a deadbeat dad. Yet it was Ailn here suffering under the weight of the knights’ casual insults. He didn’t exactly care—it was just annoying bearing this yoke in Sigurd’s stead.
In fact, it was only his relative leniency that let the knights yuk it up. Maybe he really should punish the gabbing galahads when he got back to Varant.
Debating the knights’ future fate, Ailn re-examined the marked map that Sigurd had given him, holding it taut as a cold gust blew through.
“Any higher up, and it’ll be just as cold as Varant,” Ailn said, letting out a disappointed sigh. “At least it’s spring.”
By and large, ark-Chelon was a greener duchy. The word for it was alpine—stamped by mountain ranges which cradled the broad, glacier-carved valleys they’d been traveling through. Snow-capped peaks gently dripped into streams which fed meadows of lush, green grass, and the contrast was picturesque enough to throw onto a postcard.
But as they climbed the mountain, taking the path which would eventually lead to Venlind, the air started to take on a dry bite. They were in the rocky middle, where snow had lost its grip, but the flora had yet to fully take sway.
“Hold on,” Ailn pulled on his reins, and halted his horse’s trot. “You hear that?”
At first, it was hardly discernible above the rustling of the chilly winds. But soon, those same winds began to take on a whistling quality. And before Ailn knew it, they were carrying a distant voice.
Someone was singing.
‘I’m flying round and round!
I’m flying up and down!
But these peaks are tall,
so I hope I don’t fall,
and fly into the ground!’
“What beauty…” Dartune whispered, his eyes growing misty.
“...Uhuh. Sure is,” Ailn nodded along.
Lulu the naiad wasn’t kidding when she called sylphs airheads. The sylph’s singing grew louder and louder, riding the currents of the air and echoing against the rock face until her melody seemed to fill the whole mountain pass. And when the voice was right above them, Ailn and the knights looked up to see the sylph—her form barely visible as lines etched into the air, shrouded in soft clouds. She spun joyfully as she flew, singing all the while, only stopping to throw out an intermittent ‘Hi!’ as she passed.
Camille, who’d been distracted for the entirety of their trip, gazed wordlessly above—too moved to speak. She closed her eyes, and held a fist to her heart as if making an oath.
Ailn was pretty sure the sylph just wanted someone to wave back.
All the way to Venlind, sylphs came flying and singing through the pass, each little ditty as ditzy as the last.
One went:
‘You’re going east,
I’m going west,
so you’re the least,
and I’m the best!’
And another:
‘So droll and dumb,
dol-drum drum drum,
So dumb and droll,
dol-drum drum hum!’
So was she bored or not? As Ailn was trying to decipher the nuances of sylph behavior, even Kylian couldn’t help but comment on the striking beauty of the sylphs’ singing.
“Moments such as this remind me of how wide this world is,” Kylian said, a quiet and enchanted smile still lingering on his face. “And what wondrous things fill it.”
“Want to know what they’re actually singing?” Ailn asked.
Kylian frowned. “When you ask it like that, I do not.”
_________________
The winds were loud today. They always were, but somehow today more than ever they carried either triumph or foreboding.
It was Ciel’s favorite pastime to watch the sylphs fly through the air and sing—if that could really be called a pastime. She’d sit beneath the open sky, while her daughter sat on her lap and explained the inner lives of all her stuffed animals.
“People are born… out of jail. But everywhere… they’re in jail,” Bea said solemnly. “That’s what Russew told me.” She gave her stuffed animal—a cat—an imperious wobble like it was nodding or dancing, and stared into its eyes.
“They’re in jail everywhere, hm…?” Ciel repeated her daughter’s words softly. “By who, Bea?”
“Um… other people,” Bea said, very seriously. “Society.”
“Who’s been whispering such worldly words into my babe’s ear?” Ciel muttered, while stroking Bea’s hair.
Her hand slowed down, as she gave the idea some genuine thought—and her gaze drifted to her own forearm, as if it were shackled that very moment. Sometimes it certainly felt like it.
“Mama?” Bea looked up, her curious eyes pulling Ciel back into reality. “What are you thinking about?”
Ciel’s lips parted wordlessly for a moment, before she gave her daughter a soft smile. “Mm, it’s already slipped my mind.”
Bea didn’t look quite convinced, and Ciel hated more than anything to see a troubled expression on her face—so she was relieved when another sylph came flying by, its song lovely and free.
Sometimes her daughter reminded her of the sylphs—her lofty thoughts somehow just as charming as their songs. It pained Ciel to think that time might one day pull Bea to the earth, and pain may shackle her.
“...Mama?” Bea looked up again. “How come we have so much food when you don’t sell a lot of flowers?”
Ciel’s hand halted. “...Truly, who’s teaching you these things?”
“It’s my new friend, Mister Smith,” Bea replied, laying her head back against Ciel’s stomach.
“...The serpent toy is providing lectures on money?” Ciel asked suspiciously.
“He’s a good snake, mama,” Bea said, with a tone of childish exasperation. “Actually, he’s a lizard.”
“Why is that, Bea?”
“Because he’s got invisible hands,” Bea said matter-of-factly.
“Then wouldn’t he need invisible feet too?”
“He…” Bea’s face scrunched up in confusion. Then her tone turned suspicious. “He didn’t talk about invisible feet…”
Bea continued to ponder the issue, while Ciel used her very visible hands to pick her daughter up and cradle her against her shoulder. “Then will Mister Smith be our dinner guest today, Bea?” Ciel rubbed Bea’s back.
“No,” Bea shook her head. “Not ‘till he says sorry to you.”
_________________
Venlind was a small village, its buildings simply arranged in a circle around the communal green.
They were all log structures—probably some kind of pine. Every building has wooden beams extending over their entrances, from which hung wooden signs helpfully displaying the resident’s profession: an anvil for the blacksmith, a cleaver for the butcher and so on.
Ailn scanned the signs for a bed symbol. There wasn’t one—though it was fairly likely the tavern doubled as an inn. He made note of the building whose sign had a tankard.
The problem was, that made it all the less likely there would be enough room to house all the knights, even if they slept in a common room. He glanced back warily at the two-horse drawn supply cart, which they’d brought along for the longer trip. He wasn’t exactly psyched about sleeping out in the communal green.
“Figure out if this village has a mayor,” Ailn said, turning to Kylian. “And see if there’s a decent place we can sleep with the residents’ permission. I’ll take care of what I came here for in the meantime.”
“Does your ‘task’ call for diverting prying eyes?” Kylian asked. He had a complicated expression as he observed at the knights, who by and large did little to hide their piqued curiosity.
“...Don’t go too out of your way,” Ailn shrugged. “Looks like it won’t make much difference in the end.”
Both their gazes fell on Sir Dartune who, in the midst of the rest of the knights, had begun to sweat bullets.
“Venlind… My God, how could I have forgotten?” Dartune mumbled in disbelief. His eyes were glued to a building whose sign displayed a mortar and pestle. “Did His Grace…?”
_________________
While Bea napped away in their shared bed, Ciel held up Mr. Smith, eyeing the stuffed serpent doll warily.
“I’ve witnessed none such oddities around the shop as of yet…” Ciel murmured to herself. Still her expression tinged with worry as she listened to her daughter’s soft breaths amidst sleep.
With perhaps just as much seriousness as Bea had displayed earlier, Ciel looked Mr. Smith directly in the eye as if a staring contest were all that was needed to coax out the sinister conspiracies of the haunted or demonic.
Mister Smith did not respond.
Though Ciel felt a bit silly, she decided to put him away for now—perhaps more for her own peace of mind, than anything else.
Ciel did not believe in spectres or demons, and yet…
She’d spent much of her time as a child alone in the dark, and she still couldn’t quite control her instinctual fright.
Suddenly feeling self-conscious, Ciel cleared her throat and carried Mister Smith over to the toy chest. Bea could sleep with Nitty the Donkey for today, perhaps.
She opened the chest.
Bea had an abundance of stuffed toys. Considering how expensive they could be, she had more than a little girl could ever ask for—though it was difficult for Ciel to feel complete gratitude. Bea’s father had made an active decision to remove himself from their lives. And, in his stead, he sent toys…
The sight of them always stoked complex feelings of resentment and yearning. Some days, it mostly stung, as she thought of the man too afraid to come within a bell’s toll of his daughter.
Yet on cold nights especially, a quiet warmth would sneak up on Ciel, despite herself. When Sigurd had heard how much Bea loved her first toy, he’d started bringing them at the turn of each season like a prayer. The village priest would come knocking, a new friend for Bea nestled in the basket he carried.
…While Sigurd himself stayed far out of their sight.
Suddenly, Ciel heard the ringing of the bell downstairs—someone had entered the shop. She set Mister Smith down into the chest, freely giving the snobbish toy a miffed expression. Perhaps she was about to sell one of this week’s few flowers.
“I’ll be along shortly!” Ciel called down the stairs. She ambled down, neither rushing nor tarrying, and stood stock still at the sight of her guest.
“Sigurd…?” she called out softly, then stopped herself. “No, it’s not…”
His clothing was strange. And even at a glance his demeanor was different. Her mind halted as she tried to make sense of this visitor who looked so very close to, but wasn’t the father of her daughter.
“Sigurd’s brother, actually,” the man said. “Ailn eum-Creid. Nice to meet you.”
//////
Ladies and gentlemen, meet Bea!
Comments
Ace Green
i think so too! i hope readers come to like bea as much as i think they will!
Rod
Mister Smith is sus, and Bea is adorable
