The bloodstains that even the darkness of night could not erase, the scattered organs and severed limbs everywhere, made the scene resemble a painting fresh out of war. In the heavy, metallic scent of blood, the boy knelt at the head of a corpse, crying and muttering something.
"Mother… Mother… Mother…"
In the room untouched by the morning light, the trembling boy awoke from his nightmare.
"Hah… haa…"
Wiping his sweat away, he said, "No matter how many times I see it, I can't get used to it."
The door was knocked three times in a monotonous rhythm. It was a sound the boy was used to; always the same hour, the same pattern. The person at the door began speaking without waiting for a reply.
"Sir, the meal is ready. You may come down to the hall."
In the same manner, without waiting for an answer, they turned and left without looking back.
Another day had begun in the boy's three-year cycle of stagnation.
***
In the dining hall, an old man sat eating his meal. The boy watched him for a while, then sat in the seat farthest from him and began to eat.
"Karon," the man said.
An unnatural silence formed in the room.
"Come to the training hall after you finish."
Karon did not respond.
"After you receive your blessing, you will go to the front lines. You will learn the necessary explanations after receiving your blessing."
They exchanged glances for a while. After finishing his meal, Karon went to the training hall and waited for the old man.
***
In the training hall, father and son fought as if they were enemies. The father overwhelmingly outmatched his son, yet the boy did not give up; he kept getting back up and continuing to fight.
"Do you think you can win by attacking nonstop like this? Didn't your mother teach you anything?"
Hearing this, Karon grew even more aggressive, but it was futile; he did not have the strength to stop his father's sword.
"My mother taught me things more important than the sword."
The father's expression did not change throughout the training.
Between father and son was a relationship whose distance and warmth were both uncertain. At the end of the training, they left the hall without looking at each other.
During his remaining free time, Karon summoned a maid to his room and, offering money, talked with her until evening.
Everyone in the mansion was obligated to ignore him, but since Karon was not pleased with this situation, he would sometimes pay the servants to talk with him or play games.
***
At night, he secretly left his room, went to the library, and began pulling a bookshelf aside.
In the dimly lit room, Karon sat at the desk, staring at a relatively old book, though instead of reading it, he was lost in deep thought.
"I don't even remember how many times I've read this book. Is this really the right decision?"
A few months ago, Karon had discovered this room by chance, and after reading the books inside, he had been deeply shocked.
The books were diverse: everything from sword arts to demonic creatures, to knowledge of races and history.
What truly made the books special was that they either contained very old and hard-to-access information or were entirely unprecedented.
The book Karon was currently reading belonged to the second type.
The author of the book titled Blessing and Cherks was anonymous. At first glance, its name did not seem very intriguing, but once the cover was opened, things changed.
"He talks far too theoretically about blessings. It's interesting that he can speculate this much. Still, it's strange that he is certain blessings did not exist before. How can he trust his source of information so completely?"
Karon had many questions about this book. Even though he had read it several times, he had been unable to decipher some of its theories.
"Book or no book, I will not follow the path my father chose. That's enough for today."
Karon rose from the desk with a key in his hand. He inserted the key into a drawer and turned it, but no unlocking sound came. Ignoring this, Karon reached into the drawer and opened it.
Inside was a pouch. From the outside, it looked no different from an ordinary one.
Its color was a mix of brown and gray, and it appeared somewhat old. At its mouth was a red ribbon. The only unusual thing about the pouch was that it was tied with a ribbon instead of a string.
Karon opened the pouch and began placing the books from the shelf into it.
"I wonder how Father will react when he finds out I took this."
Karon left the hidden room and returned to his bed. He had no fear of being caught, as no one wandered the mansion at night.
***
Waking once again to the same kind of morning, Karon finished his meal and returned to his room. He had plenty of free time but no one to talk to. Since the servants in the mansion were preparing for the ceremony, they would not spare time for Karon, not even for money.
Throughout the day, Karon entered random rooms and stored items into pocket space. Some were necessities; some were for pleasure.
Tonight, Karon would leave the mansion for good. Before departing, he was storing all sorts of necessary and unnecessary things into pocket space.
As Karon was emptying his room, there was a knock at the door.
For a moment, Karon froze. Rapid thoughts ran through his mind—who might be at the door, or whether he should attempt to escape right now.
Just then, the man outside spoke.
"Sir, this is Norn. I have come to inform you that your blessing ceremony will take place tomorrow afternoon. Also, if you have any needs, please let me know now."
Karon took a deep breath and then said to the man, "No need. Just don't disturb me."
At midnight, Karon stood in the hidden room holding a sword.
The sword was the orange of fire, yet someone's blood had left a permanent stain upon it. Within the unceasing flames, the blood persisted without a single drop evaporating.
Karon gazed at the sword with admiration, wondering to whom the blood might belong, but he had no idea. Nothing had been mentioned about blood in the information regarding the sword.
The hilt of the sword was made of fireproof leather, yet it was futile; extinguishing the sword's flames seemed impossible. At midnight, Karon walked through the corridors of the mansion, glowing.
Reaching the garden of the mansion, Karon climbed onto the wall closest to the forest.
In the darkness of the night, the already dim mansion seemed even more drained of color in Karon's eyes. He regretted that he had been unable to bring any warmth to the mansion for three years, but it no longer mattered.
Leaving his regret behind, Karon entered the forest.