Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - 36. Chapter 8 - Council 8.4

Piqsirpoq's quarters were on a higher floor, and Qana commanded him in an unquestionable tone to head up first.

My brother glanced back at us a few times, his expression complicated, but he obediently stepped onto the stairs.

Qana and I walked on in silence, but there were too many unspoken words between us, enough to suffocate. Before I could gather the courage to speak, Qana stopped.

He placed a hand on my shoulder from behind and turned me around. The towering sword master gazed down at me with his deep blue eyes, and I noticed that he was trembling slightly.

"There's still time," Qana said. "We can leave right now, just the two of us. Once we reach Ceres, even if that old serpent is still asleep, I can request an audience with the Darkfang..."

For one of the rare moments in my life, I chose to follow my feelings instead of my reason.

I stepped forward and hugged Qana, burying my head against his strong frame. Qana froze, momentarily at a loss for words, but soon his body relaxed, and he hugged me back.

The wall between us crumbled.

"I just realized how terrified I am of losing you." The sword master, covered in blood, lying motionless--I'd never imagined how much that image could frighten me. "Please... don't ever do that again, okay?" My voice trembled, but I forced myself not to cry. "I hate... being left behind."

For a long time, Qana didn't speak. He just rested his chin on my head in silence. This... the scent of pine.

"And how could I ever do that to you?" A memory flashed in my mind of Qana walking alongside Master Willow in the corridor, his expression was the happiest I'd ever seen. "Besides... 'those who truly control the workings of the world,' don't you think I could... accomplish something?" I sniffed, not wanting to wipe my nose on Qana.

"You... you..." His tone was hesitant, like he was chewing on something very bitter. "You will..." After several attempts, Qana gave up on the words he couldn't say, swallowing down the fragmented phrases.

He released me and took a step back, looking down into my eyes.

"Everything comes at a price. And often, the price is too high," he said, smoothing down my ruffled hair and lifting my ears back up. "Especially for someone as kind-hearted as you."

"I want to protect those who can't protect themselves," I reaffirmed, feeling something solidify my resolve. "Maybe I'll have a different answer in the future, but I think this is the purpose of psychic exists." I spoke slowly, meeting Qana's deep blue gaze. "For those with power to shoulder the responsibility and protect the weak." I saw myself reflected in his eyes. "And I have power."

"I know," Qana said softly. "I've always known." He removed his hand from my head.

"And... I want to receive full training," I said quietly. "Not just in abilities, but in the other aspects related to building something."

Qana responded with silence. We both knew that wasn't his area of expertise.

"The Council isn't a charity," Qana finally said after a long pause, his voice almost too quiet to hear. "What they demand as a price... That’s why I say, with power comes dangers you can't even imagine... You're not obligated to risk yourself for those who don't care about you... It's not worth it..." Qana gritted his teeth, struggling to force out the broken words between them.

"I think these are things I should decide for myself, don't you?" I must be in my rebellious phase. "To experience, to challenge, to question, to... find my own answers."

Qana was silent again. I forced my ears to stay upright, refusing to let guilt make them droop.

"Besides, it's not like I won't be coming back." I tried to joke, but then suddenly realized something. "I can come back, right?"

"Oh, Rationalism above!" Qana said with a bitter smile. "Your obliviousness in some areas is truly surreal."

I scratched my ears awkwardly.

"Six years," Qana explained. "Under normal circumstances, you'll complete your training in six years, and then... there's the deployment phase."

"What's the deployment phase?" I tilted my head and asked him.

"That's something you'll have to experience for yourself," Qana said slowly. "I need to let go, don't I?"

I didn't answer because I think we both understood each other's thoughts.

"I almost forgot, about the internship at Oceanus Procellarum University," I said hurriedly, suddenly remembering in the midst of all the tension. "Could you... pass the opportunity to Momus? After all... it looks like I won't need it."

Qana looked a bit surprised but didn't ask for further explanation. He simply nodded.

After that, we both fell silent again.

"I'm going to miss you," I said, realizing how awkward it sounded as soon as the words left my mouth. So I scratched my ears, feeling them grow warm.

"I will too," Qana replied with a slight nasal tone. "Get some rest. You'll need it tomorrow." He lightly patted my arm. "I still regret not getting a good night's sleep back then." He gave me another smile before turning and walking away.

I stood in the empty corridor, watching Qana's figure fade until his footsteps were completely out of earshot.

The terminal notified me that it was time. I turned off the alarm and sat up in bed.

Looking around the room, I savored the strange feeling.

Just like every other routine I've repeated countless times--the other wolves in the dormitory emitted steady, rhythmic pulses, a sign of deep sleep. A few had sharp, jagged spikes mixed in, probably having nightmares. But everyone was still asleep.

Except for me.

It's hard to describe the odd feeling of realizing this would be the last time I did this. But I guess the part of me that came from Gray made it easy to let go of such irrational unease.

I left the dormitory silently and stepped into the quiet corridor.

I expected memories to flood back, or something like that. But clearly, I didn't care much about this place that didn't care about me. I was more interested in the future and all its possibilities.

Turning down the familiar hallway, I entered the corridor leading to the training ground.

A tall figure stood at the end of the hallway.

"From here on, it's up to you," Qana said, glancing toward the direction of the training ground. "Not all dangers are visible, so always be prepared with your defense circle. Make friends, find companions you can trust--it's crucial for survival. When you feel lost or hesitant, listen to your heart; it will never lead you astray. Don't be afraid to show your strength--you're going to become the most powerful psychic in history, make sure everyone knows that. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't be humble--humility is always a good teacher. Never underestimate the strength of herbivores; appearances can be deceiving, and a powerful psychic should never be fooled by outward illusions. And don't mess with the food synthesizer, it's much more dangerous than it looks..."

I realized Qana's advice could go on forever, so I stepped forward and hugged him tightly. I really felt I should have started doing this sooner.

"...Don't... don't let them corrupt you, no matter how sweet their words may sound!" I could hear the choking in Qana's voice, but I just kept listening quietly. "...Always remember who you are, and always be proud of yourself." He touched the top of my head with his snout, and I felt the warm, wet breath. "And I will always be proud of you."

After some time, he gently pushed me back and glanced once more toward the training ground.

"It's about time," he said softly, wiping his eyes.

There were so many things I wanted to say, but I didn't know where to start, so I just nodded in response.

"Take this, it's made especially for you." Qana unbuckled the sword at his waist, and I noticed it wasn't Winter Chill.

It was a standard hand-and-a-half sword, with a cross guard that had small hexagons at each end, and the pommel was also a hexagon. The scabbard was pure white, though its material was indiscernible. The very tip of the scabbard was tinged with a faint color--like ash mixed with snow and then spread thin.

"This is Gray Snow. It will take good care of you." I took the sword, feeling a resonance as if it was greeting me. "A complete adamantine weapon is incredibly rare, so don't lose it."

I'd never seen Qana outside without Winter Chill at his side, so it felt a bit odd. But I wasn't going to spend the remaining time commenting on the sword master's appearance, so I decided to gratefully strap Gray Snow to my belt, feeling reassured by its weight--a gift of immeasurable value.

"Thank you..." It took all my willpower to keep talking. "For everything... everything you've taught me. I treasure... all of it." I knew if I said another word, I'd start crying, and I didn't want to make the sword master worry, so I bit my lip and forced a smile as a finish.

"You too..." Qana said, returning my smile. "Everything you've taught me."

"Take care, Master." I bowed to Qana, lowering my ears, trying to express all the emotions I didn't know how to put into words.

"Take care, Richter." He gently knocked on my head. "Now, go make some trouble!" Qana turned and slowly walked away from the training hall.

Listening to the sound of his footsteps echoing through the empty corridor, I took a deep breath, then resolutely stood up and headed outside.

"Great, everyone's here," Master Sunflare said cheerfully, turning around and gesturing at something.

Master Takahashi stood silently beside him, arms crossed, gazing at the snow-covered valley. He seemed to have fully recovered, showing no signs of any abnormality.

I wondered what the bighorn sheep was thinking--I wasn't familiar with the field of vision that horizontal pupils provided. But even if he had some thoughts, he didn't seem inclined to share them with us. So after struggling for a few seconds over whether I should apologize to him, I gave up and shifted my attention away.

I can work on my social skills later--probably.

"Hey," Piqsirpoq nudged my side gently with his elbow. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," I said, wiping the wetness from my cheek, puzzled by why I could never seem to control my tears. "What about you? Are you nervous?"

"A little," he admitted honestly. "But I think... I'm too excited to be nervous." He rubbed his hands together, his tail wagging slightly back and forth.

"We'll make them all eat shit, right?" I joked lightly, earning a toothy grin from him. "Oh, is that... your choice?" I asked, noticing the Kilij tied to his waist, feeling a bit of mixed emotions.

"Yeah, Qana let me choose." He placed his hand on the hilt. "I feel like we've been through a lot together," he said with a tone of satisfaction, clearly thinking I should appreciate his sense of humor.

I scratched my ear and gave a goofy smile in response, deciding to ignore those mixed feelings for now.

Suddenly, without any warning, a... rift appeared before us.

What... is this?

I found myself able to peer into the... other side of the rift--it resembled some kind of metallic wall...

"Hurry up, exotic matter is quite precious," Master Sunflare said, pointing at the rift. "Get in."

Exotic matter... a rift... I quickly pieced the information together and came to a conclusion--by Rationalism above, this is a wormhole!

I had thought we'd be taking an airship, a high-speed capsule train, or even a starship, but a wormhole... this was on the whole another level of extravagance--literally!

Piqsirpoq hadn't fully grasped it yet, looking at the wormhole with utter confusion and uncertainty.

Noticing that Master Sunflare was beginning to look impatient, I resolved to be the first to step in, not to waste any more time. After all, it was about time to plunge headfirst into the unknown once again--I believed this would become my new way of doing things.

A place where no one knows me, where I can become anyone.

Saying goodbye to my old identity, starting a new life.

A brand-new beginning, a fresh opportunity.

A chance to uncover the truth of how the world works.

A chance to gain the power to protect everyone.

"It's a wormhole," I explained to Piqsirpoq. He tilted his head and folded one ear down, still not getting it. "Come on!" I laughed, deciding a demonstration would be more effective than words.

So I turned and ran toward the wormhole, leaping into the opening without a moment's hesitation, diving into endless possibilities, and into the future that awaited me.

I was falling, yet soaring.