Archive of Our Own ^beta

One day, William wakes up and finds a watermelon on his bed. He spends a solid minute staring at it, not understanding why Patri placed it here. He doesn’t know whether he should ask. About a year ago, they agreed to stay out of each other’s business, only communicate when it’s an emergency. The last thing they want is one person is in trouble and the other is exposed. This Kingdom has one powerful memory mage. Being isolated from each other protects both of their personal goals.

Watermelon isn’t an emergency. At first, William thinks it’s a unique magic tool, but a quick examination confirms it’s just a normal watermelon. ‘Was Patri hungry?’ he thinks, then shakes the idea off. If Patri wanted to, he could have finished it before they changed. That day, William comes to his office later than usual. He’s afraid if he doesn’t observe the watermelon carefully, the rind may crack and a bird climbs out.

Of course, a fruit doesn’t hatch into anything. William blames the heated summer for messing with his head. Even he’s a workaholic, the excessive sultriness makes him lazy. Luckily, the Golden Dawn was granted a small break, therefore he only has to deal with paperwork. When William finishes, it’s almost lunchtime. On his way to the cafeteria, he’s surprised to find his fledglings gather in the yard. He’s expected to run across them in the hall since the inside is much cooler. Without their cloaks and their robes, they look much younger and much less serious. Most of them are chatting or just chilling under the shade. Langris is sipping tea while Alecdora and Siren are playing chess. In the center, Yuno lies on the grass with his eyes closed. William can’t hold off his curiosity. It’s rare to see Alecdora, Langris and Yuno sitting in the same place without glaring at each other.

“Urghhh,” David drawls, using a paper to fan himself. A report paper, William takes note.

“If we go now, we can make it to Raque in the afternoon,” Gris suggests.

“Under this weather? I’ll pass.” Letoile shakes her head, “We’ll be barbeque before we get there.”

David nods. This is the person who never says ‘no’ when it comes to playing. “Agree. I collected a magic item there two days ago. Man, the beach was so crowded I could barely breathe. Yuno… Again, please.”

Yuno doesn’t open his eyes but a cool breeze blow over and everyone sighs satisfyingly.

“I wish we have watermelon in the storage,” Hamom says while munching a cake. “Nothing better than a watermelon now.”

“Yeah, I wonder who bought all the watermelon downtown. What a crime against humanity.”

A contented smile blooms on William’s lips. He loves watching his fledglings get along. Together, they’re dazzling like the golden sun. He wants to join the small gathering too but decides he shouldn’t instead, in case his presence startles them.

Besides, they are not the same. His squad is innocent. He is not.

Normally, William enjoys sharing with his squad, but today he wants to keep the good thing for himself. He gets back to his room, checks the watermelon again to make sure he won’t accidentally kill any being inside, and cuts it open. The flesh tastes sweet and juicy like a sumptuous drop of spring.

“What’s this?”

“Watermelon.”

“I know they’re watermelons. I’m asking, what’s this?”

Rhya rises from the pile of watermelons he’s leaning on. “I bought them.”

“You bought them?” Patri intones. At the moment he stepped inside their new base, he already catches watermelon’s distinctive smell. Along his way here, several Midnight Sun’s members have offered him to take a bite.

“Yeah, with the money we stole yesterday.” Rhya takes a mouthful bite, “Imagine the human’s panic if they can’t find watermelon in this season.”

Patri doesn’t take Rhya’s words seriously. Rhya has been indolent ever since his elven days. In this lifetime, he joined none of the Midnight Sun’s campaigns, only slacking around and doing meaningless thieving. The first time he actually took part in a fight was to bring Patri out of the cave in Nairn.

Patri purses his lips every time he recalls that day. He almost let their months of collecting mana go to waste.

In a corner, Fana quietly enjoys her potion. Salamander also has a slice. Next to her, Vetto throws a crust away and picks up another one. That’s his one, two, three,… – Patri counts the waste on the ground – tenth watermelon.

“Sir Licht, you’re back!” Valtos comes into the room. Behind him are Rades and Sally. “We’ve discovered another magic stone’s whereabouts. It’s in the Witch Forest.”

“Fantastic work! Having you guys on the team makes a huge difference!” Patri is so used to lying to humans he doesn’t need to bat an eye.

“Don’t worry, Licht. I’ll bring it back.” Fana mumbles. On her shoulder, Salamander bares its teeth.

“And tomorrow we’ll have the stone from the Seabed Temple.” Vetto grins, the reddish fruit in his mouth dripping like blood.

‘It was not like this’, Patri contemplates. Whenever Vetto cut watermelons for him, on his lap always sat a bunny and on his shoulders settled a pair of squirrels. Sometimes Fana joined them, placing flower crowns or random ornaments on their hair. ‘I’m not a kid’, Patri sulked, but never took them off. Then both older elves would burst out laughing. From their smiles came a glorious sense of joy.

It used to be them, under the sunlight. Now it’s them, in the shadow.

“Sir Licht, do you want some watermelon?” Sally grabs his right arm. “I can make them taste like vanilla!”

In one brief, Patri stuns. Rhya stops eating and peeks an eye at Patri. Patri turns to Sally, giving his best smile. Rhya resumes eating as if nothing happened.

“Thank you, Sally. Watermelon isn’t my cup of tea. I prefer things more citrus.”

The truth is he simply hates sharing food with humans. Sally insists she can make watermelon taste like lemon too, but Patri politely shakes her off. He comes to the room where they place the magic stones. At night, the cries of his people sound clearer than ever, reminding him nonstop of what humans did to them.

Patri looks at his right arm; where Sally gripped twitches slightly. Sometimes he doesn’t feel it was there. Not too long ago, this arm was decimated by the magic that conquers the law of nature. Patri still remembers when his right side suddenly became paralyzed, life force being sucked out of his body in a blink of an eye. They had to leave the old base in a hurry, failing to retrieve Licht’s grimoire once. Then in the cave fight, he couldn’t go full force in the cave fight and lost Licht’s grimoire the second time. Rhya had to go straight into the Knights’ Headquarter to ensure their plan is safe. Each event is nothing more than a blow to his pride. This arm is the very proof of his weakness, yet every time Patri looks at it – to his own frustration – he’s only angry because this body got hurt. The arm is already healed, but he avoids using it, keeping it safe as much as possible.

Caressing the tablet, Patri lets out a long sigh. Four more stones and his goal is met. He should not be distracted by personal concerns.

When Patri gets out of the room, the watermelon pile has reduced at least a half. Rhya welcomes him and draws one watermelon out from the corner.

“You sure you don’t want to try? I save the best one for you. It keeps the body hydrated, elf or human alike.”

Rhya has a perceptiveness that Patri sometimes detests. After all, he only happens to know one human usually overworks himself. He receives the watermelon and returns to the Golden Dawn’s base.

When Patri wakes up again, he finds a plate of watermelon on his bed. Besides it, the World Tree grimoire glows softly. He picks up a slice and takes a bite.

Patri doesn’t like sharing food with humans, but everything has an exception.

Patri trails along the roads, putting his hood up to disguise as a traveler. He doesn’t like hiding his features – hell, he’s proud of them – but he takes no risk of being exposed. Today is a special day. The majority of the magic knights will gather in one place – the Royal Knights Selection site. It’s such a wonderful opportunity to proceed with his evil scheme, but Patri just wants to spend the entire day doing one thing: wandering aimlessly under sunlight.

How long has it been since he last saw the sun? Two thousand one hundred and twenty-seven days. Patri knows because he counts. In a decade since he woke up, four years were spent on loathing the human unlucky enough to share a body with him. Then they comprehended a mutual understanding and he agreed to become a creature of the night: only opens his eyes when the night comes, operates in the shadow, goes back into slumber before the sun could rise… Patri almost forgets what it feels like to be bathed in sunlight, to allow the golden rays to dance on his skin. When he saw the sun today, he almost wept a tear. He wasn’t crying; it was purely a physiological reaction because he got used to darkness for so long. ‘What an irony’, Patri thinks, considered his magic is the manifestation of light.

Patri passes through a forest, trolls along a river, then ups a hill until he sees a crowded town. Just for today, he doesn’t intervene with Clover’s citizens but only watches it from afar. The market is busy, chatters between sellers and buyers, old friends catching up and new friends being made. By a stream, a group of women are washing clothes; in the fields, farmers are ready for a new harvest. Gleeful cheers echo around the town. At a small church, a beautiful bride walks down the aisle. Her family throws roses in the air, the red petals crushed against their feet.

Ahh… Such mundane things like these were ripped away from his people. He still dreamed of the broken altar drowned in blood.

Leaning against a tree, Patri pats his heat. It throbs as a reply. William is listening.

“It’s been ten years… You can still stop me.”

“?”

“You can feel it, don’t you? I’m becoming more and more reckless. The fated day is near. Soon, even you can no longer hold my madness.”

“…”

“This morning, you were regretting.”

Sharing a heart comes with pros and cons, even when they try to keep their own feeling private. Day by day, William’s remorse becomes too much of a contradiction to his own excitement.

If William is in charge of the body right now, he’ll slightly squint his eyes. Just slightly. It’ll be barely noticeable even if he’s in a face-to-face conversation. Patri knows because it’s how he’ll also react. They share many traits, on top of that is the habit of hiding their true self, behind a mask and behind another persona.

Then William says, as graceful as always. “No, but I do wish to meet them sooner.”

He still remembers the zeal in his fledglings’ eyes when he saw them off this morning. He wonders what they are doing in the Royal Knight Exam. Maybe if he met them sooner, he’d have chosen a different path. His end is already down the line.

Reminiscing his life, William intones, “So it’s been ten years…”

The bells chime, signaling the wedding has come to an end. ‘You may kiss the bride,’ Patri imagines the Father says. In his elf village, there’s no need for a wedding minister. The couple will join hands in public, witnessed and blessed by the whole tribe. Still, despite the differences in culture, their wedding has the same purpose: to connect two souls as one.

Their heart speeds up, then immediately sinks.

Patri looks at his chest, chuckling. Strange how a single heartbeat can speak of so many things. Sharing a body is an experience unlike any other, a constant state of fear and freedom. Fear for being exposed to the core, and freedom for being completely unbound from expectations. They who keep up a life of lies to the outside world can only face each other in the barest form.

In one brief, their feelings synced. A tingling sensation rushed through his body and Patri perceives hope. He desired to seize the feeling in his hand; but then as if ashamed, it receded as fast as it came.

Hope died… because there’ll be no happy ending for “them”.

‘Licht is my guiding star’, the eighteen-year-old Patri said on one starry night. Three years after he woke up, they could finally sit down and chitchat like friends. Patri spoke of his jealousy, about how he should be the one who stands beside Licht, not the prince and princess of men. He spent the previous life tailing behind Licht, then kept doing so in this lifetime. It was lonely, knowing he was all by himself without a complete body. It was tiring, not knowing if he could end his tribe’s suffering. Only thinking about the one spark of light he wanted to grip made the endless nights seemed more tolerable.

Yet back then and even now, Patri never imagined Licht joining him at the altar. Back then, he didn’t deem himself as worthy enough. He was the only Apostle who didn’t have a grimoire. And now… to his own amazement, the spot is taken by another person. Licht became a face blending into the crowd.

Patri woke up in this world for the second time with the heart of stone. But a heart of stone is still a heart, weak against love like rock is weak against the wind. Ten years is a long time, enough to change a person in and out. A tree germinated on his stony heart, breaking the hard cover and offering life to the flesh underneath. Shielding him in its embrace.

They never talked about it, knowing it’d make them both fragile. A feeling must not be named was buried deep inside their heart. Sometimes it came to the surface when they lost control in a moment, such as when they heard the bell chimes at a church far away.

“Not just ten years, I owe you a life.”

The next lifetime… The words choke on Patri’s throat. It sounds unfair, being bound with him for two continuous lives.

At the last time they witnessed the dawn together, he resolutely made a promise. ‘If I win, I’ll live, and carry both of our sins.’

It was the only promise he could make – the only promise he could keep – so that in death William would be free from guilt. In there also contained his own ambition. He did not want to think about the circumstance in which he’d lose.

All of their conversations ended up in one way and that day was no exception. ‘The dawn is breaking,’ William replied. He put on his mask again and became Magic Knight Vangeance. The transition between night and day was akin more to a curse.

“…If I die, I hope we can begin again.”

Now, Patri finally can say the final half of the promise out loud. He holds his right hand in his left hand and kisses it gently. All of his tenderness is condensed at where his lips touch the fingers. The summer breeze brings in the scent of burning grass. Through the canopies above, sunlight conjures the most brilliant mosaic, reflecting from each lead and wisp of cloud.

After what seemed like an eternity, his hair shortens. The marks on his face fade and his eyes blend from gold into purple. William breaks the kiss and interlaces their fingers. He smiles at the joint hands and places them upon his chest.

“Don’t be an idiot. I do not wish for you to repay me.”

Trees, wherever they grow, always head toward the light. If someone looks at William right now, they’ll ask what he’s praying for.

“Licht!” Rhya appears from a portal, then abruptly takes a step back. Elf is very sensitive to mana wavelength, “Licht?”

“I’m right here.” Patri answers, once again a charismatic leader, “What happened at the Exam site?”

“I found Ratri. But we can’t go get him now.”

On the Reincarnation Night, at the Shadow Palace, Patri changes into his elven outfit. He carefully folds William’s clothes and places them in a safe corner. Listening to his own heartbeat, he heads to where the Apostles gather.