In a World without God

“Okay, descendant of the witch, duel with me!”

Here we go again, thought Ed. He was sitting on a tree stump in the Varus Swamp, absorbed in an enchantment. He opened his eyes at the sound of Murjana’s voice.

“How many times have I told you not to come here? What if you run into a monster?”

“I only follow in your footsteps. There are no monsters on your path,” said Murjana and laughed.

On the day of their first encounter in the swamp, Murjana had asked Ed about the great lie he referred to.

“Have you ever wondered about the statue of Vala in the Memorial Hall and why he holds a straight sword instead of a curved sword?”

“Captain Vala was skilled with any weapon. There is nothing strange about what the statue is holding.”

“But isn’t curved swordsmanship the type of swordsmanship descended through your family?”

“No, it is not. The swordsmanship of the Ishtar can apply to any weapon that can be wielded.”

“Yes, but he doesn’t hold the sword of the Black Fang leader, even in the statue. Why is that?”

Murjana’s eyes widened in surprise at Ed’s question. After a long pause, she replied, “Um… because Captain Vala didn’t like the stabbing motion?”

Ed was dumbfounded. That wasn’t the answer he’d been looking for. Maybe this child was more like Vala in intelligence.

“But why is that? Why is there no stabbing?” he asked.

“Because Black Fang’s curved sword wasn’t designed for stabbing. Vala wasn’t trained with any weapon other than a curved sword. He wasn’t all that good with it, either. But he made up for what he lacked in experience with his overwhelming strength,” Murjana replied, but Ed could tell she wasn’t confident in her answer.

“Don’t be fooled by what others tell you,” he said. “Think for yourself! Why doesn’t he hold the curved sword?”

“A statue with a straight sword… why was there no stabbing movement… I don’t know! Can’t you just tell me?”

Murjana was tired and struggled to think, but Ed wouldn’t tell her the answer.

“Come on,” he said, leading her out of the swamp, knowing she wouldn’t believe him if he told her now. Before they reached the edge of the swamp, Murjana spoke up.

“Maybe I don’t know about Captain Vala, but I know one thing. You’re not a bad man. That’s what I think.”

“What made you think that?” Ed asked.

“Easy. You’re standing beside me right now, walking with me, matching my slow pace, checking our surroundings, ensuring nothing attacks us.”

Ed didn’t say anything. Murjana smiled.

Since they’d met, Murjana had visited Ed almost every day. She pursued him relentlessly as if she had no one else to hang out with. There was no way the Ishtar family would allow Murjana to spend time with Ed if they knew, but she sneaked out of the house or made up a lie to cover her whereabouts.

“Witch’s spawn! I dueled with my cousin Nasser yesterday and won! You should have seen the look on his face. He used to disrespect me so much,” Murjana excitedly told Ed the next time she snuck away to see him.

“Yeah?”

“It’s all because of you and your fighting tips. So I brought you a gift. It’s jerky made from the thigh of a Sijia water buffalo, and the meat is very tender. It’s the finest quality. Eat it, and let’s duel!”

“Hold on, wait a moment.”

“What? What’s wrong? Is it better to duel before eating? That’s good, too. I’ve been on a roll lately. I will not be beaten today!”

“No, I just… let me say something.”

Murjana stopped talking and turned to look at Ed. He hadn’t expected her to be like this when they first met. Ed thought she had a mature sense of purpose for her age, but she was still just a kid. One that was more talkative than others he’d met.

“What is it?” Murjana asked.

“Just don’t do that. The witch thing.”

“Oh?”

Ed knew she was teasing, that it was just a casual greeting meant to get his attention, but he still hated the word ‘witch,’ no matter whose mouth it came out of.

“Okay, so what do I call you?”

“Call me something else. You are older than me, after all, you should think of something.”

Murjana stared at Ed and tilted her head, curiosity getting the better of her. The corners of her mouth twitched as she considered whether to say what she wanted.

“Ed?” she asked with hesitancy. “Why are you suddenly being so timid?”

Ed didn’t reply, and they sat silently for a long time. Murjana became increasingly uncomfortable and suddenly jumped to her feet.

“Okay, forget it. Let’s duel!”

Nearly two weeks later, when Murjana made another visit to the swamp, Ed greeted her with a surprising announcement.

“You shouldn’t come any more after today. From tomorrow, I won’t be here.”

“What, why?” Murjana asked, shocked. “Are you tired of dueling with me because I’m too weak?”

“No, it’s not that.”

Ed didn’t offer any further explanation, and Murjana pouted.

“You know what’s going on, don’t you?” Ed asked her finally, tired of her pouting. “What happens in the Le Fay family during the first week of the month of the Breeze?”

“Ah,” said Murjana. “The Festival of Saints.” She grimaced as the realization dawned on her.

The Festival of Saints was a ceremony to determine the strongest child within each eligible family between the ages of eleven and sixteen. Astania considered it a great honor to take first place during the Festival of Saints. The winning child was awarded a job in the Holy City of Trisis. But the Festival of Saints had a special meaning for the Le Fay family more than any other.

“I don’t understand why the festival is held in such a way,” Murjana said. “Shouldn’t the duel be fought fairly?”

“I suppose it’s unnecessary to fight fairly against the descendant of an evil witch,” said Ed.

“I don’t know. Are all witches’ offspring evil? You’re certainly not.”

The House of Le Fay was divided into two factions. Those descended from the blood of the hero Bosha Le Fay and those descended from the blood of the witch Ygraine Le Fay.
The Le Fay family’s Festival of Saints was supposed to show people that a hero’s offspring would always triumph over a witch’s offspring. For this reason, only their festival was open to the public.

There was a reason Murjana called it unfair. The children of the Ygraine faction could never defeat the children of the Bosha faction.

The children of the Bosha faction received special training from a very young age. They refined their Magick with the help of aids and were taught by a martial arts master, a Magick master, and a swordsmanship master.

On the other hand, children of the Ygraine faction didn’t even learn what Magick was until they were much older. Even if they did learn on their own, they weren’t allowed to use Magick during the festival.

“I’ve heard the descendants of the hero Bosha are powerful. You are strong, but if you can’t use your Magick, you won’t be able to defeat them,” Murjana said and sighed.

“The offspring of the hero Bosha,” Ed replied, his brow furrowed.

The orphaned Bosha had no family name. His teacher, Karayan, named him Bosha, which meant ‘stink’ in Kaldura. Why would a family like the Le Fay name their child ‘stink’? Bosha Le Fay—the name itself was a contradiction.

What was even more absurd was the existence of the Bosha faction at all. Bosha died at the age of twenty-eight. He’d had no relations with women except for Ygraine and Laotou. Those who claimed to be Bosha’s descendants had no relation to Bosha or the Le Fay family. Ed had even heard they didn’t have silver hair. When Bosha was alive, everyone in the Le Fay family had silver hair.
The Saint System didn’t make sense, either. Only certain families were eligible, and only the strongest within those families were called Saints. There was no way the Goddess Lutea and Ygraine would allow that. Ygraine abhorred all things unreasonable and unfair.

Despite its intention to honor the Goddess Lutea, the festival reflected nothing of her will. Instead, it was an insult. This was not the world Lutea, Ygraine or Bosha wanted.

“I see you’re worried, too,” Murjana said, studying Ed’s expression.

“I am. It’s frustrating. To have all that power and not be able to use it. Just thinking about bowing my head in shame makes me angry.”

Murjana nodded, but then a thought occurred to her.

“You said that if I bore the shame, there would come a day when I could wash away the humiliation. I want you to do the same—endure the shame and somehow come out alive,” she said.

In the Saint System, the opponent was not held accountable if someone died during a duel. There were even those in the Bosha faction who urged the children to kill the offspring of witches. Murjana knew this, and she worried for Ed.

Ed’s mouth twitched when he saw the look on Murjana’s face. It was a strange feeling. Bosha had rarely been worried by anyone. Who would dare to worry about the mighty Bosha, the Red Fox of Kaldura? Yet, the realization that Murjana was concerned about him stirred a pang of affection within Ed.

Ed looked into Murjana’s eyes.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back.”

***

People of the Ygraine faction were not allowed to travel to other regions without permission from the state. When they did, they had to use the means of transportation assigned by the state.

The state dispatched an Erabu to escort Ed to Vaidor, the Le Fay estate, where the Festival of Saints would be hosted.

In Kaldura, an Erabu was a charioteer. A single Erabu was usually accompanied by two or three Velox, a beast of burden that looked like a cross between a bird and a dragon. Their wings were smaller, but their leg muscles were stronger, making them well-suited for running. They were usually bred just to aid the Erabu, but many nobles kept them as pets because of their cute appearance and gentle nature. Their heads were topped with two finger-length horns that pointed skyward, and their tiny wings flapped in response to their emotions. They were especially popular with women and children because of their bright eyes and bushy fur.

The Erabu that came for Ed was called Kishi, and his chariot was pulled by two Veloxs. Upon seeing Ed, he grimaced.

“Your cursed hair always looks dirty! Whenever I see the hair of your cursed lineage, it feels like my luck is bad for a month. Doing this once every three years is necessary but hard to endure,” grumbled Kishi. He was an old man with a scruffy beard and a gleam of contempt in his sunken eyes.

Ed’s stomach churned. His hair was from the cleanest, purest person in the world. Why would it be considered unlucky?

If he had been Bosha before he met Ygraine, he would have slit the Erabu’s throat the moment he heard those words, snatched the Velox, and fled. But not now.

Ed simply glared at Kishi, then climbed into the old chariot.

Lutea, do you see how docile I’ve become? he thought.

There was someone else in the chariot, a boy with silver hair like Ed’s, but his face was lifeless. His half-lidded eyes gazed into emptiness while his slender limbs dangled limply, resembling a discarded doll.

Ed let out a quiet groan. This was what a descendant of Ygraine looked like! A descendant of the goddess who protected humanity. She deserved all the glory in the world, but instead, her descendants were being dragged around in a rickety cart like a cow to the slaughter.

With fervor in his heart, Kishi added fuel to the fire.

“Cursed child, I’ll give you a piece of advice. I’ve been doing this for over fifteen years now. No one with eyes like yours ever comes back alive, and when they do, it’s usually the one next to them with a face like a corpse. Haha!”

Ed swallowed his anger and clenched his teeth to stop himself from telling Kishi to shut up.

Kishi didn’t like the way Ed looked at him. Traveling from Kaldura to Vaidor was hard work. Shouldn’t he be allowed to relieve some of that stress by cursing at the children of witches?

“Do you know what this means?” Kishi continued and ignored Ed’s glare. “Your witch bloodline must live as if they were dead! Prostrate yourselves and implore forgiveness at the Festival of Saints, then languish in Kaldura, and if you cannot comply, simply perish!”

Ed’s patience reached its limit. The red-haired Bosha had a reputation for having a nasty temper, so anyone who knew him would have been surprised that he held out this long.

Ed scrambled out of his seat and climbed over to Kishi, seated at the front of the chariot, steering the Velox. He put a hand on Kishi’s shoulder and gripped it hard.

“Hey, mister?”

“What?” Kishi sneered, flustered but not yet scared of Ed despite his odd mood.

“You’re pretty certain I’m going to die, right?”

Kishi smirked and remembered the bandit he’d met in Ascidia last year who hadn’t been much older than this boy. Ed reminded him of the bandit.

“If you don’t chicken out first!” Kishi laughed.

“So why don’t you make a bet with me then?”

“A bet?” Kishi asked, confused.

“I won’t kneel to anyone,” Ed said with venom in his voice. “And if I’m still breathing, you’ll hand over those two Velox to me.”