Rakuin no Monshou - Book 12: Epilogue: Iron and Blood

What more is there to tell?

It would be a little too inelegant to go over the broad lines of all that the Dragon Emperor Gil Mephius did thereafter, whereas there are too many small anecdotes to count.

So, let us wander idly for a little while. Following our whimsy, let us list some scenes from different points in time after the ‘Dairan Disaster’ that involve various people connected to Crown Prince Gil.

First off, Fedom Aulin.

It could be said that it all started with him. Even before Gil Mephius’ coronation as emperor, he loudly appealed for the Council to be revived, and successfully persuaded Crown Prince Gil, thus achieving this grand ambition. However, with the Emperor’s demise bringing fear of internal instability within the country, it was not easy for him to withdraw from his position as domain-lord of Birac. Because of this, despite obtaining the title of Chairman of the Council, he could not readily go to Solon and spent some time irritably kicking his heels.

Meanwhile, the one who consolidated her political base in Solon was, needless to say, Ineli, who had actively undertaken to serve as a bridge between Gil Mephius and the retainers. Although she had lost her position of princess and had gone back to her real father’s mansion and name, as Ineli Montori, she would hereafter become more and more deeply involved in Mephius’ politics. Among later historians and storytellers, opinions were divided as to whether her future turned out as she herself had hoped.

By the way, Fedom, who climbed to the highest civilian positions in Mephius, and who was rumoured to have discerned Gil Mephius’ prodigious talent even back in the days when his surroundings called him a ‘fool’, continued until well into his later years to be a retainer who both supported and persistently nagged the emperor. “One of these days, he’s going to drop dead from having his food poisoned,” the emperor’s attendants often heard him mutter.

Let us next take a peek at Nedain.

Walt – who would later become one of the twelve generals – and his troops were stationed there, and so was Raymond Peacelow, who would become the domain-lord in the future, so that Nedain was in fact the most stable region in the country around the time of the “Dairan Disaster”. The populace bragged of how they had toppled the ‘tiny tyrants’ – the Abigoal father and son – with their own strength, and even as revolts and slave uprisings erupted throughout, they unwaveringly flew the Crown Prince’s flag.

Gil Mephius was greatly pleased by it, and it was probably because of it that Nedain, a rural backwater, would one day share a deep connection to him, second only to Apta. Raymond Peacelow became lord of Nedain about five years after the “Dairan Disaster”, and this honest, steadfast young man remained Gil Mephius’ greatest adherent. It was even said that he was the first to refer to Gil as the “Dragon Emperor”.

Here is one trifling episode handed down within the Peacelow family. Half a month after Gil’s return from Ende, Raymond had to leave for Solon to attend the Emperor’s funeral, which was to take place in the imperial capital. As he was just finishing his preparations for departure, someone came hurtling down the stairs.

“Brother!”

“What is this Louise? That was a disgraceful display for a daughter of the Peacelow House.”

Raymond’s reproach turned to confusion however when his sister handed him a white origami. After all, a pale paper flower already decorated his chest as a charm for safe travel.

“It isn’t for you, Brother,” Louise said, looking bashful.

Raymond looked from the folded flower, which was a size larger and considerably more intricate than the one at his breast, to his little sister’s reddening cheeks, and realisation suddenly dawned on his face.

“I-It’s no good. Your social positions are too far apart. I understand your feelings, but he has an official fiancée. Even though it’s painful, considering our House’s situation, there’s nothing to do but give up and…”

Lousie’s face got redder and redder as he spoke.

“Brother, you’re an idiot! This is to thank him and to give him a protective charm. I… the Crown Prince – I wouldn’t even dream of something so outrageous!”

Hearing her shout so uncharacteristically, the servants who had gathered to see Raymond off burst out laughing.

Now then, let’s wind back time a bit and cast our eyes west of Apta’s river, to the territory of King Ax, who became the leader of the Tauran alliance.

In a room adjacent to the audience chamber, Ax had received a messenger sent by the Twin Dragons of Kadyne, and had heard all about the battles in Ende. The next to visit the room after that messenger had left was a civilian official that had been dispatched to Mephius. He reported in detail about the disturbances which had arisen in Mephius, and about how things had ended.

Also present were the strategist, Ravan Dol, Ax’s daughter, Esmena, and the young general, Bouwen Tedos.

“Guhl’s croaked?”

Ax was not particularly tender-hearted, but he could not hide the strong emotions he was feeling. During Guhl’s reign, Ax had three times invaded Mephian territory, and had twice been attacked by Mephius.

Guhl was what you might call an old enemy. And he had died. It was as though someone had just handed him fertile lands budding with new life.

The next instant, Ax had snapped out of those deep emotions.

“We’ll need to send someone to offer condolences, huh. How about you, Esmena? Feel like going to Mephius again after all this time?” He fished for his daughter’s reaction.

“If you insist, Father, I will not go against you, but I believe that General Bouwen here would be a more suitable messenger. I do not understand politics,” Esmena smiled gently and shook her head.

Ax looked surprised: he had expected her to jump delightedly at the offer.

Soon after, this daughter of his, who was said to have suddenly become all grown-up, excused herself and left the room. Ax spent a little time feeling despondent.

“If the problem was politics, she could just have gone with someone who knows about them. It’s just as they say: a girl at that age is quick to change her mind. It’s like a newly-hatched dragon, which everyday grows more scales than can be counted.”

“My lord, the saying about a dragon’s scales means that you should be careful for three days after parting from someone who served you. The comparison to a woman’s feelings is different…”

“R-Right. I was just testing your knowledge.” Ax forcefully shut down Ravan’s interruption. “Still, on our side, my nephew Raswan did what he did, and in Mephius, Princess Ineli’s lost her title. I was thinking of getting the princess for Raswan or Bouwen in exchange for Esmena, but now I’m going to have to reconsider. The one who takes over Taúlia has to be of the blood of the Bazgan House, after all.”

“Although if we’re talking about not letting the bloodline run out, I think it would just as good for you to take a concubine, my lord.”

“Me and my wife, Jaina, are both still young. Don’t you worry.”

Despite his forthright personality, Ax was uncomfortable talking about this sort of thing in front of his retainers.

Once the conversation was over, Ravan and Bouwen saw him off as he returned to his living quarters. Immediately after which, the strategist turned to Bouwen Tedos.

“Your patience has paid off, Bouwen.”

“Whaa-W-What is it that you mean?”

“There’s now a high chance that Princess Esmena will marry a man from our own country. I bet you’re hesitating about whether or not this is the time to put your name forward.”

“W-Why are you… No, what are you talking about?”

“You’re so brimming with spirit, it’s like steam is rising from your entire body,” the strategist chortled loudly. “It’s nice to see that kind of youthful spirit. Do your best not to jump the gun and keep training your self-control.”

Ravan gave Bouwen a clap across the shoulders strong enough to make the younger man stagger, then left the room. The young general gazed bitterly at his receding back. Although the old man gave the impression of knowing everything, he had long ago lost the feeling of how it was to be a callow youth.

Speaking of the west, Helio was a land that shared a deep connection with Orba.

It was from this country which had suffered so many national crises, and in which the royal family had solidly built the foundation of its rule, that Bisham, a commander of infantry, had gone to Ende as part of the reinforcements. The first thing he did upon returning was to go kneel before Rogier Helio.

The young heir to the throne was not yet ten years old. The boy was delighted to hear Bisham’s many tales of the war, but grieved deeply at the end over the death of one hero.

Nor was it only Helio: news flew around the western lands that the masked hero Orba, who had slain Garda, had perished in battle. People all over mourned his death, but nowhere was that sorrow greater than in Helio.

When the commander of the dragoons, Lasvius, was sent to Solon to offer condolences for the Emperor’s death, he talked far more of Orba than of the Emperor when he met with Crown Prince Gil. This made a deep impression upon Gil, and he entrusted Lasvius with a gift for Rogier: the iron mask that Orba had worn in life. For long after, it remained in the keeping of Helio’s royal family as a national treasure…

Yet even so, there were numerous theories about the true whereabouts of Orba’s mask.

Some said that Crown Prince Gil had faithfully kept it close to him, others that he had enshrined beneath the Black Tower as a guardian spirit of Mephius, and still others claimed that it had been lost on the battlefield when Orba fell.

And to start with, it was extremely difficult to investigate what had happened to the iron mask that Orba wore, or even how many he had owned, given that innumerable master blacksmiths in Mephius and in the west displayed and sold replicas during town festivals.

It was not only Taúlia’s King Ax who was hit with strong emotions when he heard that Guhl Mephius had passed away: Ainn Owell, king of Garbera, and his son, Zenon, felt much the same.

He had been their opponent in a war that had lasted ten years. When Ainn received the news, sitting back in his throne, he looked towards the heavens and sighed.

“So in the end, were we never to meet face-to-face?” he was said to have murmured.

Although Guhl was an old enemy who had once sworn to have his head, they were to have their son and daughter marry in the near future, and would have become family in-law. It was hardly surprising that he was at a loss for words.

Within Garbera at the time, there were some people who worked themselves up into a commotion, saying that “this is the perfect chance to rule over the three countries.”

In both the neighbouring countries of Mephius and Ende, those who had for so long worn the crown had died, so both were now having to spend time building the foundations of the new regime. Put another way, since the countries were at their weakest, a single prod from Garbera’s spears might be enough to snatch lands from Mephius and Ende – an opinion which was not, however, openly expressed.

Prince Zenon Owell and the resourceful Noue Salzantes did a lot of manoeuvring and laying of groundwork around that issue. They both agreed that what was needed now was to ascertain how Allion would move and to strengthen the relationship between the three countries, and so they had already gathered to them those who shared that opinion. When Zenon had repeatedly been urging his father to send reinforcements to Ende, these retainers had not been able to support him for fear of opposing the first prince, Razetta. Now however, they themselves took the initiative of jumping on board with Zenon and Noue’s position.

Truly, all was not smooth sailing in Garbera. In the future, when a child would be born to the king and a concubine, the relationship between the two princes, Razetta and Zenon, would change once more. Although Crown Prince Gil of Mephius, Grand Duke Eric of Ende, and Prince Zenon of Garbera all yearned for a triple alliance, little progress was made with it, and it could well be said that the main reason for that was because of the situation in Garbera.

Zenon would take concrete action one year later, during what went down in the history of the eastern part of the continent as the “Battle of Ryalide”, a fight in which he earned fame by overturning the enemy’s overwhelming superiority in numbers. The prospect of a retaliatory Garberan invasion of Allion was then hinted at, but at that time, there was no such grand ambition or desire for power within Zenon Owell, and that was no doubt due to Gil and the similarly-aged Eric, as well as to having fought Allion first-hand during the “Dairan Disaster”…

Having touched upon Garbera, we naturally have to mention the Grand Duchy of Ende, cornerstone of the triple alliance.

Immediately after obtaining overwhelming victory in the “Dairan Disaster”, Eric Le Doria returned to Safia in triumph. A huge funeral ceremony was held in Dairan for the people and soldiers who had died, but Eric simply spent a night in the Water Shrine and reported their victory to the spirits which protected Ende.

During the time spent in contemplation, Eric’s feelings raged. Although he was praised for his great victory, he felt responsible for the severe damage done to Dairan. Included in that damage was the loss of his close friend, Belmor Plutos.

“My son died a good death,” Kayness Plutos was sprightly as he saw Eric off. “I’m proud of him. I can’t count how many of Dairan’s soldiers absolutely want to name their next son after him.”

Astride his horse, Eric simply smiled faintly.

Belmor had given his life to allow Eric to escape during an enemy attack. When they found him afterwards, his body was riddled with bullets, yet even so, the spear he still held in his hand was covered in the blood of enemy soldiers. The sight of the two sobbing children clinging to Kayness was still seared into Eric’s mind.

Absolutely… the next…

While greeting the morning sun at the Water Shrine, he turned Kayness’ words over in his mind.

Eric became the grand duke three months later. It is said that although he became a great pillar for the country, the birth of “Valiant Grand Duke Eric” was one of the causes that led to Ende’s disappearance.

Well then, listing everything would be endless.

When it comes to things related to Orba, Ryalide, which was mentioned just now, is not unconnected to him either. For example… counting even the small-scale confrontations, Mephius and Allion led their soldiers against one another more than six times after this, but Gil Mephius and Kaseria Jamil only confronted each other face-to-face on two occasions, one of them being the “Dairan Disaster”. But in the treasured history books which have been handed down within Ryalide’s royal family, it is written that there were “three occasions”. This is clearly no mere slip of the pen, since the princess of Ryalide of that time frequently made reference to it. Just what the historical truth behind it was is something that future historians and story-tellers delighted in puzzling over.

Anyway, there are too many to count.

So for now, let us once more return to Solon.

At the centre of this story were always Gil Mephius and Vileena Owell. Here is an anecdote illustrating what the relationship between the two of them was like just before their wedding.

Just before noon one day, Princess Vileena went to Crown Prince Gil’s room.

Ah! – Dinn had been cleaning the room along with several pages, but his expression changed when he heard her footsteps. Fundamentally, he was an honest boy. And he was still making that same expression when he faced Vileena.

Half a month later, when the wedding was held, Vileena would be fifteen years old. Theresia, her lady’s maid, followed behind her.

“Is His Highness not here?”

“Eh… W-Why do you ask?”

“Is there any reason to ask why? I came to give him my greetings, is there any problem with that?” Her piercingly probing words belied her flowerlike countenance.

Looking back on it in the far distant future, Dinn would often wonder – Did my lady[1] have a spy among us? That was how good she was at sniffing out that something was up.

This time, however, Vileena had come without any hidden intentions. Dinn’s suspicions about her motives were probably due to his own guilty conscience.

“Oh?” Vileena also sensed something was up.

Dinn saw her eyes flash, but he was too slow to dodge.

“O-Ow…”

Vileena’s fingers were pinching the poor chamberlain’s cheeks.

“P-Please have mercy.”

“What are you hiding?”

“N-Nothing… nothing.”

“You are lying. Now come, confess everything. What is he plotting this time? Has he gone to town disguised as one of the people, or to scout out enemy territory where war might break out soon, or else…”

For a second, Dinn stared blankly, wondering how the princess had already arrived at war preparations, after which, he ‘confessed’ all. Gil Mephius had left early to go on a long ride on dragonback with Hou Ran. Ravan Dol, from the west, had apparently sent several dragons of a new breed in place of a wedding gift. Once he heard about them, the prince could not sit still and had immediately gone with Ran to test them out, keeping it a secret from his surroundings.

“You should have just told me from the start,” Vileena finally let go of his cheeks.

“Lying badly just makes everything seem more suspicious,” Theresia dealt the finishing blow.

Dinn could only hang his head.

Theresia glanced towards her mistress. Honestly, said the princess’ expression, but Theresia could tell that she was uneasy. In a sense, Garbera’s princess would have been relieved if he had been secretly preparing for another battle.

Incidentally, the young lady’s maid who had followed the princess for such a very short time was no longer in Mephius. Soon after the “Dairan Disaster”, the princess had gone once more to Birac and had bid farewell to a family which was leaving the city for the west. Who could say if she had done so after obtaining Prince Gil’s permission, or if the princess had acted at her own discretion.

Either way, from then on, the woman named Layla would never again be seen in Mephius.

With his wedding and coronation ceremonies soon to be held, Gil Mephius organised large-scale gladiatorial games. He wanted a slew of blood and flesh from brawny sword slaves to offer in sacrifice to pray that the deceased emperor, Guhl Mephius, would rest in peace, and to usher in the new era.

“However,” Gil spoke before the courtiers assembled in the hall, “for three hundred days after my coronation, I forbid slaves from fighting to the death as gladiators.”

He addressed himself to those who were making a stir.

“It seems that if too much human blood is offered to quickly to them, the Dragon Gods get a little tired of it. I do not believe that a person’s death is a good omen. The people, though, are starving for entertainment. Therefore, I have decided that each domain-lord and general would send soldiers to take part in these gladiator games. I suggest you each bet money, goods and pride on them. Of course, the winner will receive what was bet, and will earn unsurpassed glory. Since the intention is also to train soldiers for future wars, a necessary condition is that opponents will not be killing each other. Even if the people complain for a while that there isn’t enough blood, watching soldiers compete against one another for the honour of their lords and generals will, in different ways, be far more exciting entertainment.”

It is not known whether at the time, Gil was already considering the Proclamation of Emancipation that he issued ten years later.

That’s right, ten years.

As Gil Mephius, Orba took a long time – so long that he felt that he was writhing in agony considering his own origins – to accomplish his goal. He took into account that Mephius would collapse if it lost its military and labour workforce in one go, and since he also wanted to avoid causing dissatisfaction among the influential nobles and the populace, for the time being, he limited it to “three hundred days”.

On the day of the great tournament,

“Now, begin.”

There was not a single cloud in the clear, blue sky. From the seats reserved for the imperial family, Gil made his announcement as he spread both hands wide.

“These games are to appease my father’s soul, and are also in praise of the hero who saved Mephius from peril time and time again. The one who achieves the most outstanding victory shall be granted the title of ‘Orba’.”

The stands were packed so full there would not even have been enough room to fit in a single dog, and the people were in fever-pitch of excitement. After this, there would be no gladiator games for three hundred days, which only increased their frenzy. Increasing it even further was the fact that merchants involved in the gladiator business had sent in all their famous fighters, hoping to please the man who would become their new emperor.

Among the merchants who offered him his greetings, there was one that Orba recognised.

He never learns.

Still, this was the merchant who had produced ‘Orba’, so he summoned Tarkas before him and spoke with him directly.

The sun was high overhead. While the light and heat from it beat down on his head, the crown prince seemed entranced as he watched the innumerable massacres that unfolded before him.

At dusk, Gil Mephius looked down onto the gladiators who had been selected to come and line up before him. Blood and sweat clung to each of their well-forged bodies. All of them had displayed outstanding skill and strength during the day’s many fights.

Gil called each one in turn and granted them the prizes which had been provided by the nobles. Golden ornaments, swords and spears created by master craftsmen, extravagant horse tacks… one especially lavish noble had even provided a manor as a reward.

Among the gladiators being rewarded, there was one young man who was still in his teens. At his age, he could still be called a boy.

Orba bestowed upon him an Imperial Guardsman’s spear. It was a magnificent thing, partly made from dragonbone and decorated with silver embellishments.

It happened in the instant when the boy respectfully took hold of it.

His eyes flashed a sharp glare, then he heaved it back with all his strength before instantly hurling it forward.

The spear whistled through the air as it flew towards the crown prince.

No one even had time to scream.

The flash of silver split in two in front of Gil Mephius.

Pashir, at his side, had swung his sharp blade at almost the same time as Gil drew and brandished the sword at his hip. Whichever of the two swords it was which had stopped it, the spear was sliced in half and both parts rolled to the ground.

Screams and angry bellows erupted immediately afterwards. While Solon’s stadium seemed to tremble as they swelled, soldiers held the boy to the ground.

“Enemy!” he screamed. That bastard was his enemy, let him kill his enemy he hollered again and again at the top of his lungs.

Gil Mephius spread out both hands towards the seats to show that he was unharmed.

Once the people had finally calmed down, “Why throw away your own life?” he asked the boy before his eyes.

His arms and legs pinned down by burly soldiers, the boy twisted his neck upwards. Although death was already before him, his eyes gleamed with the feral light of life.

“My father was a Mephian soldier,” he spat out a mouthful of sand, “but he was killed by fellow Mephian, by your – the Crown Prince’s – troops!”

“Oh.”

The boy who had sworn revenge had apparently come into contact with the troops from the Emperor’s faction who had been laying waste to villages and towns during the time when Guhl had been held captive in the temple. It was then that he had been captured and reduced to slavery.

“Get down here,” the boy yelled. “Get down here and meet me with a sword. I’ll kill my father’s enemy!”

“This bastard!”

One of the soldiers who was holding him down grew enraged and struck him in the back with the butt of his spear. This time, the boy coughed not sand but blood.

“Enough,” said Gil. He turned towards the boy who had once more lifted his head. “You wanted me to go down?”

His face was as devoid of expression as if he had been wearing an iron mask.

“I will not step down. That would be ridiculous. Where would you find someone fool enough to step down from the heavens for some failure of a slave?”

The nearby courtiers all snickered quietly at the crown prince’s words.

Gil’s sword was still unsheathed and this time, he was the one to throw it down to the arena. It unswervingly pierced the ground right before the boy’s nose. He went pale.

“I’ll give you that sword. You can keep your life for another three hundred days, until the tournament for the resuming of gladiator games. If you fight and survive with that sword, then…”

Gil Mephius smiled with cruel callousness, “you can come crawling up to me.”

The sword piercing the ground shone a brilliant red.

It looked like the colour of blood.

References and Translation Notes

1. ↑ This future Dinn uses the term “okukata-sama” (奥方さま), which is a respectful way of addressing someone’s wife, usually used for the wife of a master or employer.