Chapter2

Year 989 of the Holy Era.

The continent of Euphelia. The kingdom of Beltrum and its capital,

Beltrant, were located in the Strahl region, towards the west side of

this land.

It was here in these lands that a mother and child lived modestly

— but happily — in a small house. The mother was a lovely and

attractive woman, and her son was comparably cute in an

androgynous way.

On one fine summer day...

"Hey, mom. Why do we have black hair? No one around us has

black hair."

The little boy peered up at his mother with caramel-colored eyes.

Indeed, there were no other black-haired people in the capital they

lived in. Because of that, the two of them were treated as oddities in

their neighborhood.

His mother looked troubled by his question.

"You're right, Rio," she said, taking a moment to answer him.

"Perhaps it's because we came from somewhere far away."

"Do all of the people who live far away have black hair?"

"Yes, that's right. It's not just you and me. Your father's hair was

black, too... and so was your grandmother's and grandfather's hair."

Her son, whose name was Rio, had asked so curiously — his

mother couldn't help but smile as a result as she answered him.

Seeing her smile made the boy so happy, making him beam right back

at her. To the young boy who had just turned five, his mother was his

everything.

"Huh! I'd like to meet grandma and grandpa someday."

"...Yes, that'd be nice," the mother replied. "I'll take you to see

them when you get bigger. They're in a place called the Yagumo

region." Her smile had become troubled again as she spoke.

"Really? You promise?"

"Mmhm. I promise."

◇◇◇

Two years later, in the year 991 of the Holy Era. Early spring.

In the slums of Beltrant, the capital of the Beltrum kingdom, there

lived a small orphan boy. He was curled in the corner of a dark and

shabby wooden shack, the air dry and chilly.

"Hah... hah..."

The boy panted for breath, his cheeks bright red. He groaned

openly, tormented by his nightmares. The dirty rags he wore on his

body were soaked through with sweat; at just a glance, it was clear

that he had a fever. There were traces of multiple people living in the

run-down shack, but none of them were present to nurse the sick boy.

Who knew how long the boy had been alone like this? He was alone,

left lying on the cold floor in a single layer of clothing. It wouldn't

have been surprising if he'd died like this. And yet—

At one point, a warm, gentle light began to shine and embrace the

boy's body. It was a different kind of heat from the fever that had

been tormenting the boy... This heat was warm and comfortable

enough to entrust oneself to. Color rapidly returned to the boy's face,

and his breathing evened out. For some reason, the fever that ailed the

boy's body was gone, and the light that covered his body disappeared

with a subtle flash.

"Mmh..."

The boy blearily opened his eyes sometime later. Lying on his

back, he blinked until his vision cleared and a dimly-lit wooden

ceiling came into focus. His mind was still hazy, as though there was

a fog preventing him from thinking clearly. The fever was gone, but

not without consequence. He was still weak, and had yet to recover

his strength and stamina. Overwhelmed with fatigue, the boy stared

blankly at the ceiling. His mind managed to recover to a point where

he could process his thoughts again; pushing his weary body up into a

sitting position, he started to wonder about his situation.

"Ugh..."

A dull pain ached in his muscles, making the boy wince. It might

have been a result of the cold he caught, or perhaps from sleeping on

the hard floor. A glance around at his surroundings revealed a dismal

room with some shabby furniture placed in the middle.

This is...