Little Pink Starfish

It was only then that Rekayan realized where he was: the Tower Master’s room—the place where he had drawn his final breath.

“What about Nil?”

He asked the question, though he already knew the answer. He’d seen Nil’s lifeless body in the moments before losing consciousness, seen the Grimoire’s mana consuming her.

“I couldn’t save her.”

“I see. Then why did you save me?”

Rekayan knew he had died. He had been seconds away from being completely consumed by the Grimoire. No matter how skilled Ishar was, saving someone from that wasn’t easy.

Wouldn’t it have been better to just let him die? That sort of cold, calculating logic—a very magician-like thought—flitted through his mind.

“I told you. You’re arrogant.”

“…Sorry?”

“I saved you because you’re arrogant. You made a promise to me, didn’t you? That you would remind me of my sins every time I lost my way.”

A thin line of fresh blood trickled from Ishar’s lips as he paused.

“You are my witness. Of my sin—the sin of being born into the bloodline that built itself atop countless deaths. The sin of being unable to protect those under me. And you, one of the sacrifices.”

Only now did Rekayan understand. Ishar had taken serious risks to bring him back. His heart pounded. With every breath, he felt the weight of life anew.

“Since you’ve experienced death once, you’ll never forget my sins.”

Ishar had made Rekayan his witness. That’s why he saved him—and why he would continue to save him. Rekayan lowered his feet from the bed.

He stood to face Ishar, who looked quietly down at him. With calm eyes meeting his, Rekayan knelt before him.

“I, Rekayan von Riccione, swear to offer everything I am in loyalty to Lord Lugeris Ishar Rubinus von Dnemerwin, master of the Tower, and now my lord.”

His voice was unfamiliar—so solemn and steady. But not just his voice. Never in his life had he been this serious.

With his gaze lowered, Rekayan felt the noble presence of the man who would now be master of his life, and he mocked his past self.

‘I thought I’d never meet someone worth serving.’

He had been so sure of that on the day he left House Riccione.

He thought there would never be a master he’d give his life to protect, someone he’d want to stay beside forever.

Doubting the very idea of a servant’s loyalty, Rekayan had chosen the path of a magician, refusing to join Esche or seek honor, power, and wealth under the Emperor’s name.

‘Ishar always gives me clarity.’

Ever since entering the Tower, Rekayan had learned from Ishar. And now, he owed his life to him as well.

Bowing even deeper when Ishar didn’t respond, Rekayan added in a soft voice:

“If you don’t accept me, I’ll keep following you until you do.”

“…A magician giving a knight’s oath to someone who renounced royal status.”

Muttering as if sighing, Ishar placed a hand on Rekayan’s shoulder. It wasn’t a sword that touched him, but a hand—yet Rekayan knew that gesture meant acceptance, and he welcomed it with joy.

From that day on, Rekayan vowed to live for Ishar.

He would remain by his side, serve him with unwavering loyalty, and carry out anything he was ordered to do, even at the cost of his own thoughts.

It was because of that vow that, when Ishar—pushed by nobles following the news of Bezerne II’s death—agreed to return to the Imperial Palace, Rekayan followed without hesitation.

“Won’t you regret this?”

Ishar asked on the day they left the Tower for the palace.

“I’ll only regret one thing—if I fail to stay by Your Majesty’s side.”

Ishar didn’t respond right away. He simply stared out the carriage window. It wasn’t until several minutes had passed that he finally spoke again.

“The coronation hasn’t happened yet. I’m not the Emperor.”

“Then what should I call you, your insight please. Former Tower Master? Junior?”

“…Don’t call me anything.”

“Understood, Lord Ishar.”

“…”

Whether Ishar looked at him like he’d lost his mind or not, Rekayan grinned.

He was happy. He’d been granted a new life, and a lord he wanted to serve for the rest of it.

Inside that carriage headed to the capital, Rekayan steeled his resolve as he looked at the pensive Ishar.

Whether Ishar became a saint-king or a tyrant, Rekayan would protect him. He would carry out the role he’d been given.

And in truth, Rekayan did fulfill his vow splendidly.

Sure, sometimes his magician’s curiosity got the better of him, causing him to temporarily lose all rationality.

But not once did he place Ishar beneath himself.

When Ishar gave an order, Rekayan had no qualms killing someone he once dined with.

To build the Empire Ishar dreamed of, he dirtied his hands without hesitation.

After Veloan appeared, he spent more days chasing after the squirrel-like child, constantly on the move. But since it was Ishar’s command, he carried it out gladly.

‘Whatever His Majesty asks, I’ll do it. So he can obtain what he desires. Achieve what he dreams. I owe him my life—my very existence.’

At every moment, Rekayan remembered the day he knelt and pledged his loyalty. And so, he remained loyal.

…Though, admittedly, when Ishar announced Veloan as Empress and brought up heirs, he was so shocked he ended up snapping at him.

“What did I just hear?! You’re telling me you created a human with magic?! A magic formula—gasp—please, just show me one line of that formula! With something that amazing I could break through the bottleneck in my resear—AAARGH!”

“Shut it.”

He was hit with a cushion Veloan threw and kicked out of the office before he could press further. But still, he remained loyal.

Four years have passed since that day.

And now Rekayan wonders:

‘Maybe I should’ve defined the scope of my loyalty more clearly… Or at least pretended not to like some of this?’

“Rekaaaayaaaan~!”

“Rekayan! Rekayan!”

Before he could even flinch at the voices calling his name, he was hit from both front and back.

Rekayan caught the First Prince Ersha, who leapt into his arms like a cat, and the Second Prince Yunesha, who tackled him from behind—not with his arms, but with magic.

Though he still had the youthful body of his prime thanks to his magical mastery, lifting children was still physically taxing for a magician.

“Your Highnesses, I’m older now and my back isn’t what it used to be. Please refrain from hugging me like this—”

“Do the whoosh! Whoooosh!”

“Me too! Whoosh, then BAM! Do it!”

The princes clung to his neck, flailing their legs until he was nearly choked. Rekayan looked at Ersha with a pained expression.

Though he had Ishar’s pale blue-and-white hair, his eyes and facial features were just like Veloan’s. With his chubby cheeks blushing and eyes sparkling, it was impossible to say no.

“His Majesty banned that recently. Ask His Majesty or Her Majesty instead.”

“Papa and Mama said it’s dangerous and don’t like it!”

“Then if I do it anyway, won’t they… hate me?”

“But Papa said to play with Rekayan!”

“Do it! Pleaaaase!”

Ersha had inherited Ishar’s eloquence. Yunesha, on the other hand, just repeated himself, making Rekayan’s ears ring. Trapped between the identical-looking princes, Rekayan turned to Shuzel.

‘Help me.’

He desperately mouthed the words, but Shuzel’s gaze was fixated not on him, but on the adorable antics of the princes.

‘Damn it… They look exactly like His Majesty did as a child…’

Just as she had once cared for Ishar, Shuzel had fed, changed diapers, and raised the twins since they emerged from the lab. Now, she was hopelessly attached to them. She was a lost cause.

“Rekaaaayaaaan~”

“Whoosh! Whoooosh!”

The more the children whined, the more Rekayan could sense the alarming amount of mana gathering around them.

He sighed and dispersed the energy.

“Your Highnesses, I heard His Majesty assigned you homework. Have you finished it?”

“Not yet!”

“But we just have to do it before Papa asks.”

“No. You have to do it now. Once you finish, I’ll whoosh you around.”

“Uuuuugh, nooo. I want whoosh now!”

“Homework’s stupid! Whoooosh!”

With not even the slightest sign of backing down, the princes wailed and clung tighter. Rekayan cursed himself for ever doing that “whoosh.”

He’d only used a wind spell to quickly calm them down once—but they’d loved it so much, they kept begging him to do it again at every opportunity.

“I’ll do it once you finish your homework.”

“Rekayan’s mean!”

“I’m telling Papa!”