MDL | Chapter 2.10

<To be Continued…>

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No, no… This isn’t it… Ugh, really… This pen is completely broken… It’s doing whatever it wants…

Why isn’t the ink coming out? Is it already empty? Huh?

Ah, everyone. Just a moment.

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Ah, sorry. Everyone, please wait a bit.
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This might take a little longer.
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She tore it up too much…
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Haha, damn it… That cursed witch. Taking her anger out like this, damn it.
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Well, first…

I can’t keep you all waiting too long…

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……The dark blue vortex spat the prince out with a splash. Thick darkness, an impenetrable black void, engulfed him. The prince blinked, taking slow, deliberate breaths. He reached out instinctively, but there was nothing to grasp. The cold body, stiff like wax or wood… it was nowhere to be found.

 The surroundings were quiet. The only sound the prince could hear was his own breathing.

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How much time had passed?

It probably wasn’t a long time. But to the prince, it felt like an eternity—a deathly, endless stretch of time, as if he had fallen into a hundred-year slumber.

Gradually, his vision began to brighten. A faint, bluish-gray light seeped into his surroundings like a rising tide. Beyond a wide glass window, he could see a hazy world shrouded in mist and pale clouds. Yes, it was dawn. The second night, devoid of moon or stars, had passed, and morning was breaking.

“Ah.”

The prince let out a short, meaningless exclamation.

The guest room in the palace where the prince had been staying—that was where he was now.

He had returned safely.

Alone.

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Though his body felt as heavy as lead, the prince managed to stand by forcing strength into his legs. He opened the door to the guest room and stepped out. The servants, who had risen early to prepare the palace for the morning, paused their mopping and bowed to him. After nodding lightly to them, the prince knocked on the door of the room across the hallway. Knock, knock, knock.

The room inside was silent.

Knock, knock… Knock, knock, knock…

After waiting a few minutes, he heard the sound of dragging footsteps, and the door opened. Knight Zig, his hair disheveled like a bird’s nest and sleep still crusted in his eyes, greeted the prince.

“Your Highness?”

Zig couldn’t suppress a yawn. Despite his drowsiness, he had the presence of mind to grab his sword—a commendable effort, at least.

“What brings you here in person, Your Highness? If you had called, I would have come to you. Is it a rift? Have monsters appeared?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

At the prince’s reply, Zig sighed in relief and yawned again. He tried to keep his lips pressed together, knowing it was improper, but it only made his face look even more ridiculous. Yawning isn’t something you can just hold back… Oh dear, Zig looks quite unattractive like this.

“Then what do you command…?”

“Where’s the wizard?”

“Huh?”

“Is the wizard inside?”

Zig tilted his head with a blank expression.

“Isn’t the wizard with you, Your Highness? He hasn’t returned since he went to your guest room after the banquet.”

The prince glanced over Zig’s shoulder into the dimly lit room. As Zig had said, the wizard was nowhere to be seen. Sensing the prince’s unusual demeanor, Zig’s expression gradually grew serious.

“Your Highness, what’s happened?”

The prince shook his head.

“No, nothing.”

He then lightly placed a hand on Zig’s shoulder.

“Sorry for waking you. There are no signs of the rift chasing us yet, so rest well today.”

“Yes…”

Leaving Zig, who still looked unconvinced, the prince returned to his own room.

The room where he was alone.

He wasn’t hungry, but he felt an odd emptiness. It was as if he needed to fill himself with something immediately. He pressed his palm firmly against his chest, near his heart. Then, he touched the corners of his eyes. No tears were falling. All he felt was the rough, dry skin of his face, worn from chasing the witch all night.

That… disappointed the prince. Just a little. Yes, just a tiny bit.

…

And finally, the day broke.

 

As soon as the sunlight touched the foreheads of the people heading out to work, dispelling the pale morning mist, the prince requested an audience with the queen of this kingdom.

It was the first time a foreign guest staying at the king’s invitation had asked to see the queen, so the servants were flustered. Moreover, it was early morning. The queen, having spent the late hours solving the fairy godmother’s riddle, had barely slept three hours. But the servants, overwhelmed by the prince’s hollow eyes and ominous aura, opened the door to the queen’s parlor.

“You wanted to see me?”

The queen entered the room as she spoke. When she saw the prince’s face, she turned pale with shock. He was one of the two men who had sneaked into the baby prince’s room the previous night.

“It’s you! The intruder from last night!”

The queen, forgetting the dignity she had cultivated over the past year as queen, trembled like a mere miller’s daughter. The prince, however, looked at her with eyes dulled by exhaustion and devoid of emotion.

“I didn’t come to quarrel with you over last night’s events,” the prince said coldly.

“I’ll get straight to the point. I’ve discovered the witch’s name. Your fairy godmother’s name.”

“…Really?”

The queen, who had seemed ready to scream and summon the guards at any moment, suddenly calmed down. Now, she was no longer the miller’s daughter but the queen again. She took a seat in the chair at the center of the parlor.

“Tell me, nameless stranger from a nameless land.”

Morning sunlight poured in through the large window facing the queen. It turned her hair and eyelashes golden, as well as the hem of her white dress. Yes, her white dress… The prince noticed that the queen was no longer wearing the gaudy golden dress. It reminded him of the wizard—his golden hair and thick lashes of the same color.

“Her name is Rumpelstiltskin,” the prince said.

“Say that name tonight.”

The queen took a deep breath and bit her lower lip hard.

“Your fairy godmother won’t be able to take your baby,” the prince added, driving the point home.

……A brief silence followed. The queen looked as if she had forgotten how to breathe. When the prince, unable to bear the boredom, brushed a strand of hair from his cheek, a single tear rolled down the queen’s face. She exhaled the breath she had been holding and let out a small sob.

“Thank you. Thank you… Truly, I am so grateful.”

Her voice was filled with endless gratitude and relief toward the prince. But the prince, expressionless, merely wiped his rough face with his palm and turned his gaze to the sky.

Fortunately, there were no signs of calamity in the kingdom today. The world bathed in sunlight was bright and warm… There was no indication of rifts forming or the world crumbling to pieces.

A world deceptively at peace.

The prince grew a little suspicious. What had he been running from? Was what he had faced truly a catastrophe for the entire world?

The wizard, who could have explained it all, was nowhere to be found.

Left alone in this world, the prince…

The prince…

He felt that emptiness again. Not hunger, but as if a part of his insides had been torn away and left somewhere… That kind of emptiness.

“But perhaps it would be better to give the baby to the witch.”

Without realizing it, the prince spoke those words. The queen wiped her tears and looked at him.

As she stared intently at the prince, she noticed something strange. He was a young, handsome man, like a charcoal sketch filled with melancholy… but there was something different about him compared to anyone else she had ever seen. Something one might miss if they weren’t paying close attention…

Hmm, his shadow… was odd.

The queen glanced at the dark shape clinging to the prince’s feet, then looked down at her own. They were definitely different.

Well, why wouldn’t they be? Shadows aren’t fixed shapes, are they? Depending on the direction and intensity of the light, they can grow or shrink… They change shape as their owner moves, and sometimes they look like nothing more than a blurry, indistinct mass.

But the prince’s shadow… had a clear outline… as if someone had cut out a piece of black paper and stuck it to his heels.

Even as the curtain behind the prince swayed in the breeze, even as he turned his head or brushed his hair back… his shadow remained stuck to his heels, showing no change at all.

The queen, startled, looked at the prince again. Even though she now knew he was different from ordinary people, strangely, she didn’t feel afraid of him.

“Do you know that there are young women trapped in this palace? Women who have never married or borne children,” the prince continued.

“I know,” the queen replied.

“The king is looking for a woman to replace you. Someone who can bring me gold in your stead.”

“I know.”

“You and your young son will only grow more miserable if you stay here.”

“I know.”

For the first time since entering the room, the prince truly looked at the queen.

A woman who could do nothing but beg and sob before the witch. A woman who, blinded by love, had walked straight into hell. A witch who had lost her magic. Now just an ordinary queen, or perhaps still the miller’s daughter.

But her face now was resolute and solemn. It was different from the fairy godmother’s face last night, when she had tried to defy her fate. Though tear stains had dried on her cheeks, she stood straight, facing the coming storm without flinching.

“Yes, I know,” the queen said once more.

What more needed to be said? The prince nodded quietly and withdrew.

 

And time flew by, and the day turned to night.

The moon rose, the stars rose.

The moon set, the stars set.

The second night, dark as the abyss, arrived.

Well, what happened in the palace that night?

What was meant to happen, happened. The same story you all know. What had to happen. What was destined to happen.

Rumors spread from mouth to mouth: that a piercing scream had echoed from the baby prince’s nursery, that the wicked fairy had flown away on a ladle when the queen guessed her true name, that the fairy, overcome with rage, had grabbed her own foot and torn herself in two, committing suicide.

No one knows which of these is true.

Yes, no one knows.

The only certainty is that the queen guessed the fairy’s true name. That’s all.

And so, the trumpets of celebration sounded throughout the palace. The king, overjoyed, feasted even the poorest beggars in the land. The baby prince was finally presented to the people, and a grand banquet was held.

Isn’t that right, everyone?

…Huh?

What happened to the witch?

What about the women trapped in the palace?

What of the queen and the baby prince’s future?

Haha, you all… You already know. Why are you asking me? Haha, I don’t know everything either. I don’t know about the things that aren’t written. Honestly, I’m not even that interested! All I care about is the story that’s written, the story that must be told… The rest remains a mystery. Don’t expect too much from a storyteller, everyone. A storyteller is most interested in the fate of the protagonist. The protagonist is the one the storyteller loves most. Everyone else gets only as much attention as they need. Too harsh? Hahaha. But what can I do? From birth to death, I can’t possibly know everything. The gaps, the empty spaces, are for your imagination, your questions, to fill. That’s not my role…

And so, the miraculous night when the queen solved the riddle came to an end. At last, a new day dawned.

The prince faced the radiant morning sun. The entire palace, no, the entire kingdom, was abuzz with joy, but the prince remained as calm as ever.

It was time to set out again.

To his destination.

To Omphalos.

Even though his guide had not yet returned.