Little Pink Starfish

Nyne’s lips itched to speak, but he held back. He couldn’t mention Gwen’s magic in front of Seinca Hoan or Iyu. Nyne still wanted Lan Gwen to remain in Yeonhwa Hall for now. So instead, he asked something that had lingered on his mind since before the Great Temple.

“What kind of oil do you usually use?”

Gwen blinked a few times, apparently surprised by the question. Then, as if realizing the intention behind it, he smiled gently.

“I don’t particularly enjoy using fragrance oils, Sha.”

“But you used something at the last banquet, did you not? I’m curious what sort of oil it was—one that even drew Amon’s attention.”

“I’m sorry, Sha. I don’t have any left now. Besides, it’s a scent only beings like Sha Amon can perceive.”

A scent only beings like Sha Amon can perceive? Did he mean it was meant only for gods? Was that his implication? Was he mocking him? Nyne frowned, suspecting Gwen might be toying with him. But Gwen’s face showed no sign of such intent. Seeing Nyne’s expression grow colder, Gwen let out a small hum and added,

“If I had to describe it, it simply smelled like blood. I didn’t mention it before because I didn’t think it would be to your taste, Sha.”

Nyne’s expression turned curious. There were many types of fragrant oils—floral, fruity, herbal—but none smelled like blood. That wasn’t exactly a desirable fragrance. Even priests who slaughtered living creatures for offerings regularly applied oils and perfumes to mask the scent of blood.

Still, Amon was the god of war. He might well enjoy such a scent. No Resha had ever worn the smell of blood before, which must have made Gwen stand out even more. But if Amon’s taste accounted for it, what of Gwen? What sort of person wears the scent of blood to a banquet?

Maybe, as Iyu had said, he really was just one of those eccentrics they call madmen. Nyne found himself once again deeply curious about Lan Gwen’s true identity. He tested Gwen with a casual question.

“Recently, I heard stories about magicians from the Labyrinth. They sound truly blasphemous and grotesque.”

Gwen’s smile didn’t waver, but Nyne thought he saw the corners of his lips twitch, ever so slightly.

“You’ve come from far away… Have you ever encountered a magician from the Labyrinth?”

“Of course, Sha. My travels have been long and extensive. I’ve crossed paths with Labyrinth magicians before. If you wish, I can tell you stories about them.”

Nyne twitched his fingers—he wanted to hear them. Iyu’s stories had been interesting. But he restrained himself. Too many eyes were watching. Who knew what sort of strange thing this unpredictable Resha might say? Nyne found Gwen fascinating, but he didn’t fully trust him.

“I have no interest in such heretical talk. And since you won’t tell me about the oil, I have no more business here.”

As Nyne stood, his attendants moved in perfect unison to prepare his exit. Just as he turned to leave, Gwen held something out. Somehow, he now had a small parcel in his hand. With a soft voice, he said,

“A gift, Sha Nyne. I made it for you. Please, would you accept it?”

Nyne hesitated but gave a slight nod. Popo took the gift in his place. Without another word, Nyne left Gwen’s quarters.

“He’s got some skill with his hands, I’ll give him that.”

The next day, Luga grumbled as he studied Gwen’s gift for the umpteenth time. Nyne silently agreed. More than skillful—the craftsmanship surpassed that of a master artisan.

The gift was a small, finely detailed figurine of Nyne himself, about a hand’s span tall, made from some unknown material. It was seated in a tiny chair, the expression and features an exact miniature of Nyne. Even the unfamiliar golden eyes sparkled like gemstones. Luga found himself muttering in awe.

“How did he manage to make such delicate ornaments? And isn’t this the outfit you wore to last month’s banquet?”

Nyne looked more closely. What he’d first thought to be a simple topaz necklace turned out to be amber containing a tiny scorpion. Even the chair matched the ones in the banquet hall. It was eerie how accurately Gwen had remembered everything.

“Hmph. Looks like he’s got a keen eye, too.”

Grumbling, Luga fussed with the doll’s hair as if it were Nyne himself. Strangely, he seemed to like it even more than Nyne did. Nyne, gazing at the figure, recalled the puppet shaped like Lan Gwen.

Should I ask him to make one of Sha Amon?
It might look rather nice, the two of them displayed together.

Just then, as he was carefully adjusting the puppet’s outfit and accessories, Luga said with a “by the way” tone,

“The hunting festival is coming up soon, isn’t it? Shouldn’t you practice archery in advance?”

“Practice archery?”

You want me to hunt? With a bow? Nyne gave him a sharp look, but Luga nodded fervently.

“If Nyne-nim offers an animal you hunted yourself, Sha Amon would surely be delighted. It would be the most precious offering of all.”

It sounded reasonable. Every priest would be bringing animals they hunted. It would be odd if Nyne, Amon’s consort, had nothing to offer. The problem was—he had never held a bow in his life. Hunting in the Great Temple usually meant hunting magical beasts, and Nyne had always remained within its walls.

Still, after some hesitation, Nyne nodded. Popo, reading the cue, signaled the priests to make preparations. Then she added gently,

“After yesterday’s visit, there may be talk that you favor Lan Gwen too much. Perhaps this is a good time to summon a few other Reshas as well. If Sha Amon sees that you graciously care for his faithful servants, he will be pleased.”

Nyne said nothing, his expression unreadable. Popo knelt and spoke in her sweetest tone.

“If you favor a few Reshas and keep them close, they will serve you even more loyally in the next life. Sha Amon’s grace is more glorious and precious when shared, Nyne-nim. You will enjoy the hunting festival more if you go with them.”

She was subtly nudging him to allow Amon to show interest in others besides himself. Even the teachings said as much. But Nyne… simply didn’t want to. He wanted to be the only one Amon looked at. The mere thought of Amon favoring another left him feeling bitter and resentful.

With a short sigh, Nyne nodded. Just for today, he would go along with Popo’s suggestion.

The archery practice was set to take place at the training grounds near the Second Tower Gate. By the time Nyne arrived in his palanquin, the Reshas and battle priests were already waiting.

“A true servant greets Sha Nyne.”

As usual, a group of radiant Reshas followed by strong, well-built battle priests bowed deeply.

“A devout servant greets Sha Nyne.”

Nyne gestured for them to rise and stepped into the shade beneath the awning. The Reshas, selected by Popo and Luga, beamed brightly and offered flattery.

“Sha Nyne, you look so regal and beautiful today.”

“Like a god who rules over the forest.”

“Even foolish beasts would offer their necks willingly if you hunted them, Sha Nyne.”

Nyne scoffed. A bit too much, isn’t it? But he didn’t mind it. Not today. His outfit and ornaments were different than usual.

Most noticeably, his hair was tied high in a single knot, wrapped in gold-embroidered linen, trailing down alongside his hair in the breeze. Small golden accessories were pinned above the knot, glimmering in the sun.

His clothes were a variation of the kalasiris—cut short just above the knees rather than the usual ankle length. His legs were wrapped in elegant leather straps from the calves to the ankles, where he wore laced sandals. His earrings curled along his earlobes to avoid interfering with movement, and a wide, fan-shaped collar necklace rested at his neck with a golden stag at its center. The green emeralds encrusted in the jewelry sparkled brightly.

As Luga strapped a leather armguard onto his wrist, the battle priests adjusted the target and prepared Nyne’s bow. A beaming Luga, clearly thrilled by the hunting theme, began instructing Nyne.

“Hold it like this… Grip here… And stretch your arm out fully, Sha. Keep your feet apart.”

As he adjusted Nyne’s posture, Luga made sure the Reshas saw how close he was to him. Nyne easily followed the instructions, aligning his arms, shoulders, and elbow straight, drawing the string of the unarmed bow taut. It wasn’t that difficult.

Iyu, watching closely, smiled and spoke up.

“You hardly look like someone handling a bow for the first time, Sha. Your posture is perfect.”

“Really?”

Nyne answered lightly, and as if waiting for it, the Reshas began lavishing him with flattery again. Annoyed by the tickling words, Nyne half-listened as he accepted an arrow from Luga. He nocked it just as he’d been taught, pulled the string, aimed at a target the size of an apple placed some distance away—

—and loosed the arrow.