The night passed, and morning eventually came.
After leaving the pianist's room, Oren left for the fog once again, greeting the guards as he left the border, making his way to the bloody mark in the Verdant Field.
This time, there were no followers. No people had come to fight him, hurling insults about capturing the Immortal Demon.
If there were, he would have simply had to do what he had done last time.
Disposing of them wouldn't be hard. They were only mortal, after all.
Snickering, Oren thought, To think I've barely encountered any Enlightened during my visit here to Erdream.
In truth, he had expected to see much more people of much more variety, whether that be malefic people or righteous people. Perhaps even another Elder.
Either way, it didn't matter. Nonetheless, he had thought they were meant to be more numerous.
They did intrigue him, but it was not like he knew the exact procedure for becoming Enlightened.
If he did, he would have been one by now. It was that, for some reason, he especially couldn't become Enlightened.
'Maybe my immortality is the reason.'
He looked down. Something strange rested in the palm of his pale hand, reddened by blood.
It was grotesque in shape, a small, oval, jelly-like substance that seemed to pulsate faintly within his grasp.
It was hard, yet he felt as though he could squish it easily.
Its colour was a deep crimson, with a large circular outline embedded into its front. Within that circle, two small holes were inset, surrounded by thin roots that extended outward like blood vessels.
It was an Erol.
Oren's chest rose in relief. To their luck, it had come several times faster than he had expected.
It was made from the fish, he hoped, as he recalled the dangers of using it.
From what he remembered, all Erols differed, from use, to looks, to abilities, and to how they were born into the world.
In fact, they were similar to humans in that way.
The only difference being that all humans seemed to be the same and Erols were unique creatures.
Oren stared down at it with a strange sense of nostalgia, his long black hair dancing in the wind.
'If I'm right, this Erol's capabilities should be focused around sight.'
Although using it was a gamble, it was the first real step towards his and Selvar's deal.
And if using fish remains as the basis for creating Erols was sufficient, he could continue using them to create more, hopefully finding one that could enhance the mind, as well as an extra for the one in his palm.
To think centuries of condemnation had followed him for such experiments. It was as though they had all flashed before his eyes in that instant.
'I'm really doing this again, aren't I.'
He smiled bitterly before placing it in his pocket and approaching the border with a final thought.
'Let's just hope it works.'
Entering Erdream and reaching the manor, he eventually bumped into the keeper.
She was working as always, but he couldn't help but say,
"Thank you. That remedy you told your daughter really helped last night. To cure impurities, is it? Well, I feel more youthful than ever."
But for some reason, the keeper gave him a strange expression and took him for a drunk man with no etiquette.
Finding her response strange, but not unusual for how she usually acted, he dismissed her and began walking up the stairs.
...
Standing in the large hallway outside Selvar's room, Oren knocked twice with a smile.
"Come in."
Selvar's voice came from inside.
Oren reached into his pocket and carefully readjusted the Erol, ensuring it was secure before opening the door.
He pushed it open calmly and stepped inside, as though it was his own room.
Finding Selvar sitting at his desk across the modest room, reading a book, Oren noticed a large difference between their rooms, which hadn't occurred to him before.
The difference in size was not great, but the things within them were.
Selvar's room was suited to a young man, whilst Oren's own felt more suited to a married couple.
Although Oren had lent him the books in his own room, they were now neatly stacked in a pile, rather than scattered across the room as they had been the previous day.
He had tidied his room, as though expecting Oren.
"Am I coming with you to the puppet show tonight?" Selvar asked sincerely.
"Indeed so, but I wonder what it will be on. Do you think it will be O'resen, as it had been the play?"
He glanced at Oren.
"I don't think so..."
Tapping his foot lightly against the floor, Oren's eyes wandered around the room as he asked, "I dont suppose you have met the keeper's daughter, have you?"
Selvar frowned.
"She's never mentioned having a daughter."
Oren stared at him for a moment.
His face scrunched, then relaxed as he dismissed it.
After a while of standing there in their usual comfortable silence, he reached a hand into his pocket, his lips curling ever so slightly.
"Anyways, I've got something for you."
He grinned. "Although I don't know the specifics, it should enhance your sight. Take warning, it can also take away your sight. Use it as you wish."
Selvar turned in his chair as Oren revealed the Erol in his palm.
But the youths reaction surprised him.
"You found it already...?" Selvar stared at it with an unreadable expression.
"I was in a rush to get my hands on it, but honestly, I expected it to take a few months at least."
He sighed, his gaze lingering on the Erol, gradually becoming engrossed in its peculiar design.
"I thought it would be considerably more difficult, since you used fish to create them. You had only been accustomed to using humans, well done."
A frown slowly formed on Oren's face, making Selvar ask, "You did use the fish, didn't you...?"
Oren froze. 'I...' he thought, not knowing how to answer.
'...I don't. I don't know, why don't I know!'
Oren's gaze darted across the room before finally settling on the Erol in his hand.
...It was made from fish, he knew it was.
He was certain of it. But when he remembered what he had done in the past, he couldn't trust that certainty.
'Why can I recall the past so easily now, but not earlier...? Is it because of those humans the other day?'
Oren exhaled slowly.
'I lured them into the fog, one by one the other day. And I never saw them escape. How can I be sure that these aren't human remnants instead?'
"I don't know," he finally whispered, avoiding eye contact as he too frowned, hesitantly glancing at the Erol like it was the plague.
Rightfully so. "I understand how you must feel, Selvar. Curse at me if you want. Call me a demon if you so wish, but please stay calm.
Be reasonable, just for this moment. I need to think."
"Call you a demon?" Selvar was bemused.
"An immortal?" He laughed.
"That is what you are. You are a demon. You are the Immortal Demon."
"Selvar, I need a moment."
Oren paused, watching the young man silently.
"And what exactly do you need a moment for? To think about your atrocities? Your sin? Are you going to think about those people you murdered?
The humans who were innocent, and all whose lives you took?"
His voice trembled.
"Which one? Who? What village? Tell me, devil, what exactly are you going to think about then?
No, you can't escape this." Selvar shook his head, falling silent for a moment.
"Nothing you tell me will make what you've done right. No lie you fabricate, no excuse you give me, nothing you say will change what you've done."
Oren's fingers tightened slightly around the Erol.
"It's just—"
"Shut up! You will say the things that I already understand...! But it doesn't matter anymore."
Looking at Oren with heavy eyes, Selvar slowly calmed down.
"I put my trust in you. I saw us as two birds of the same flock, two apples on the same tree. I took my own virtues and saw them in you."
A bitter smile pulled at his lips.
"So perhaps it was pointless even speaking to you. You and your dogmatic ways. While you were out there wandering through the streets on your pointless patrols, I sat inside and watched from afar, day after day. It's so clear now," He laughed again.
"You and I are as different as night and day, yet somehow, in my ignorance, I thought we were alike."
His chest rose as he exhaled.
"But you know humans so well, don't you, demon? Then how could you forget that you are one?"
'I do understand them,' Oren thought to himself.
But at the moment, he could not read Selvar.
'Is he pitying me? Is he angry at me?'
'No.' He didn't appear angry, 'so is he in disbelief of my acts, hurt, ashamed, disappointed?'
Oren did not know, but at last, he finally understood how far the Enlightened archer had sunk into the hell of his own mind.
He watched in anticipation as the youth's light gray eyes remained fixed on him, drowning in emotion as he tried to compose himself, eventually drifting toward the bookshelf.
"These books..." Selvar spoke again, his voice quieter now. "I quite enjoy reading them."
He reached toward one of the books, running his fingers lightly along its spine as he breathed in through his mouth.
"Before you came in, I was reading a book written by a man born here in Erdream."
"It's such a small world, isn't it?"
"The people in Erdream built this room, too. They built the house we reside in. The place that gives us shelter and keeps us warm at night.
The manor is well kept by the keeper, and even the clothes you're wearing were made by someone."
He glanced toward Oren.
"I suppose you know this already. We don't belong here, and their unconditional hospitality is one of the many reasons I'm against you harming them."
Oren remained silent.
"You see, after watching the play of O'resen, something about it stayed with me. Perhaps it was because I couldn't stop thinking about the prince and the choice he made at the cliff."
His fingers rested against the spine of the book.
"Humour me this, do you think the prince died because he relied on O'resen too much? Was that his flaw? Or was it O'resen's fault for suggesting the deal?"
Oren went to answer, but Selvar continued over him.
"You didn't even think about it."
Shaking his head dismissively, he went on.
"About our deal, I will find my own way in procuring the Erol. If I see no progress, I will be back by sunrise... And if I do find it, I will still return."
"I will see you at sunrise," Oren finally replied before leaving his room, Erol in hand.
'Sunrise? Books... O'resen. Human...?' He snorted to himself in disdain.
Of everything Selvar had said, quite remarkably, the latter appeared to trouble him the most.
Whilst a human would most likely be upset in this instance, Oren was neither sad nor ashamed of the current events.
Instead, he was utterly confused, for the uncertainty surrounding his own deeds had caused this, and that unsure had finally fleed.
Leaving him clear minded.
'Goddammit! Why now and not earlier, when it mattered?'
Oren ran his hand through his hair, questioning whether to return to the fog and find the humans he had fought, if they were still alive.
Yet that thought faded as he entered his room.
'It doesn't matter...' he reminded himself.
And only when Oren thought about it did he realize that he was content with it. Back when he was still a youth, no matter what was right or wrong, it was never enough.
He would always be the demon, called a demon, and act like a demon.
He would always be an anomaly, someone to be condemned by the people of the mountains and, if he ever left, perhaps by the people outside its black-and-white walls too.
It mattered little whether he denied it, regretted it, or accepted it.
The name had already followed him for centuries.
That could have been why Selvar's words had affected him so little.
But Oren understood what he had done. He understood why Selvar despised it.
'But it takes more than being human to act on morality. Understanding what is wrong and knowing what is right does not make one righteous.
Acting on it is.
In hindsight, coming here was all a mistake. I should never have accepted the deal. I was just too busy playing house with strangers.'
But who could blame him? He was never presented that choice in his life.
Oren looked down at the Erol in his palm, resting it gently on his drawers.
'When Selvar returns empty-handed, we can leave, and then find my own Erol, the Erol that will reverse my immortality.'
For now, he was getting ready for the puppet show.
Apparently, there was a surprise for him.