Your Eternal Lies - Chapter 74

Remember Our Names (1)

* * *

“Rosen, come out. Dinner is over.”

“Ian, what is this?”

Rosen and Emily had an unusual hobby. They excavated interesting items from his luggage piled up in the warehouse because he was in a hurry to be exiled to the island. Every time they visited Primrose, they locked themselves in the storage room, took out things, and enjoyed themselves for a long time.

A picture of Henry as a child. A crooked letter with traces of snot from a young fan. Layla’s toys. Ian liked neat things and tended to organize thoroughly, but he was not good at throwing things away. Even on days when Emily didn’t come, Rosen was stuck in the storehouse.

It was the same today. Rosen, who seemed to like the treasure hunt, showed him something with a playful look. It was a picture.

“This picture is really funny. Ian Kerner had a childhood like this. He looks the same as he does now, but he’s softer and cuter! Like a baby!”

Ian Kerner checked the picture and frantically tried to wrestle it from Rosen’s hand. He had no idea where the hell she found this. But Rosen quickly hid the photo behind her back.

It was a picture of the 20-year-old and his squadron members before their first attack. Unlike the three squadron members who were amicably standing shoulder to shoulder in front of the fighter, he stood awkwardly apart with a hard face.

“But why is your expression like this when everyone is laughing?”

“Most of my expressions are like that.”

“Haven’t you ever been lonely? Didn’t you have any friends?”

“…Out of the four, I was the most outgoing.”

“Because you were the only man?”

Rosen pointed to the three pilots in the photo, smiling broadly and clinging mischievously to each other.

“Apart from that, I was the commander. It must have been difficult to be friendly.”

“Not necessarily. It’s because of your personality. Are you sure? They must have been too mischievous and fun to hang out with you. Look at this, I can feel the joy just by looking at their faces.”

Rosen laughed and poked his chest with a finger. In fact, it was an accurate analysis. Ian was too quiet to stay close to them, who couldn’t stay still for a moment, and according to them, he was ‘the most boring person in the world’.

Rosen giggled and rummaged through other items before returning to the photo.

“Are these people all dead now?”

At some point, Rosen hardened her expression and asked. She seemed to remember a story he had told earlier.

Ian nodded his head. Lucy Watkins, Ileria Lev, and Violet Mihak. When war broke out, all the members of the squadron he had initially led were discharged from the sky.

“It’s amazing. I thought pilots were all men. I was surprised to hear your story before.”

“…”

“Tell me about them.”

Ian hardened. Every night he couldn’t sleep, he laid next to Rosen, listening to the story of Rosen’s life, but he rarely talked about his past. Occasionally, Rosen asked questions, but he almost gave only short answers.

“Don’t you want to tell me? I told you everything!”

Rosen pouted and scolded him.

“No. Rather… I wanted to tell you.”

It was not intentionally hidden. Not because he thought Rosen didn’t need to know. Rather, he thought that he should definitely tell her someday. Ian just hesitated for a long time because he didn’t know how to explain it.

“I don’t have a knack for telling stories.”

“Who told you to talk funny? I don’t expect that. Just tell me.”

Ian looked back at the three young pilots in the picture. It wasn’t his own story, so it was more difficult to talk about. Ian spat out the clearest thing he knew first.

“These are the people who liked you.”

“Me?”

Rosen pointed at herself in disbelief. Although he always thought about it, Rosen was very easily aware of the malice of others toward her, and she did not easily believe that someone liked her.

So he always tried to be precise.

‘I love you, and I’ve loved you for a long time, and I always will. You don’t know how desperate I’ve been looking for you.’

And now he wanted to tell her. The fact that he was not the only one who loved Rosen Walker, the witch of Al Capez, who did not break even when she walked a thorny road alone.

Ian pointed to the pilots in the photo one by one and recited their names.

“From left to right, Ileria Lev, Lucy Watkins, and Violet Mihak.”

“Ileria Lev, Lucy Watkins, and Violet Mihak.”

Rosen laughed, copying his words like someone just learning to speak.

“You want to memorize it?”

“I’m good at memorizing. Few people like me, so I should at least memorize their names.”

Ian raised the corner of his mouth and smiled faintly, then lifted Rosen, who was sitting on his bed. Rosen let out a joyful scream as she clung to him. He pointed to the upper bookshelf, just out of reach.

“Do you see those books over there?”

“My book you put in there? I didn’t write it, of course.”

Rosen Walker was a famous prison escapee. To the extent that a series of novels and interviews depicting her escape from prison became bestsellers. Ian had both the first edition and the limited edition. When Rosen heard that, she looked at him like a madman for a while.

-Are you really my fan?

Ian didn’t bother to deny it.

“I have mine, but there are also books that those kids had.”

“Is it a keepsake?”

“Yes. I have it because no one else does.”

Rosen neatly placed the picture frame on the bookshelf. She wiped off the accumulated dust with her sleeve very carefully.

Ian felt like the picture was finally back in its rightful place.

He thought it was time to leave this picture in a sunny room, not in a warehouse. He was no longer alone in bed. There was also someone to hug and talk to on sleepless nights.

So now he could look back, when he was flying in the sky.

“They also carried pictures of you. The one on the far right was the worst.”

“You mean Violet? Violet Mihak?”

Rosen asked, pointing to the youngest pilot, who was holding a pistol in a pretentious pose. Ian nodded his head as he rummaged through old memories.

“…She called you her Goddess.”

* * *

It was only a few decades ago that the Imperial Academy began training airmen.

And even at the time, the Air Force was a division called ‘dregs’. A long peace without major wars made the Empire old-fashioned. And the military had always been an institution that reacted the least to the changes of the times. Seniors were skeptical of the Air Force’s existence. The reason was that it was useless compared to the cost of maintaining it.

Now that the long war was over, everything had changed. At the military academy, the Air Force was the most popular branch, and even children from prestigious families were anxious to become pilots. It was now even joked that it was impossible for a person who was not a fighter pilot to become a military minister. It was an undeniable fact that the Air Force was the one who narrowly defended the Empire in a war that was helplessly destroyed both on land and at sea.

But that was not the case when he was still a cadet, not even a full-time soldier. The small amount of subsidy from the military to the air force was easily leaked out by middle managers, and training was a bust. Airplanes frequently broke down, threatening the lives of pilots, the number of aircraft was insufficient, and pilots were in shorter supply than airplanes.

Despite the cold stares here and there, the Imperial Air Force maintained its name, thanks to the Prime Minister, who was particularly obsessed with ‘making a plausible example’ even if it was not practical. It was terribly paradoxical that the incompetent Prime Minister, who had maintained the Air Force, had helped start a war with Talas through stupid foreign policy.

At that time, one of three top cadets decided to fly.

Ian Kerner came in second.

Sixteen-year-old Ian Kerner chose the most ridiculous of the many options presented to him. The school was overturned by the sudden choice of its chief cadet, and he was called in by officers, principals, and generals.

But no one could break his stubbornness.

-It’s a place where there’s nothing but rubbish. Think again.

-My decision will not change.

-What is the reason for doing this?

-I want to get on a plane.

-You are crazy.

-…I don’t want to be dispatched to a distant place. I want to stay in Leoarton. Because that is my hometown.

It was a trite and obvious reason, but it was all sincere. If he chose the Army or Navy, he would be drafted to Malona by force, whether he wanted to or not. He was an excellent cadet, and against his will, the military would move him like a chess piece.

Then it was better to make them give up early.

-Listen, Kerner. I mean, it’s the army. It’s not a place where you can do well alone. There is nothing there. It’s a place where people with nowhere else to go gather. All women, geeks. That’s a mess! Do you want to throw your life into that gutter?

Ian did not pay much attention to what his seniors were saying. He was obsessed with airplanes, didn’t want to leave his hometown, and had no interest in promotions. So he didn’t put his life in the gutter just because he went to the Air Force.

But they were right in at least one part.

The Air Force was in a rut. He chose the Air Force, but most people were pushed out. The seniors were tired of trying to change the division somehow, and the younger juniors, who were assigned to the Air Force forcibly to fill the headcount, dropped out, saying they would rather leave school than stay.

Ian Kerner bent his stiff attitude and tried to hold on to the newcomers. Because he had confidence that airplanes would become a key force in the not-too-distant future. After he personally drove the aircraft, his conviction was further strengthened.

But it didn’t have much effect. Less than half of those who endured the arduous training process held on to the end. Those who stayed were usually one or the other; people with eccentric tastes, or if they had nowhere else to go but here.

It was more of the latter.

After the war broke out, everyone in the squadron, except for him, was female. It stayed that way until Henry Reville came in. Lucy Watkins, Ileria Lev, and Violet Mihak. The senior members of the squad patted him on the shoulder in a mocking tone, saying, ‘It must be nice’. Ian Kerner understood exactly what the meaning of their words implied.

Some consoled him, saying, ‘It must be tricky to deal with women’. There was nothing tricky. If the people who said that very thing had just shut up, he was sure it wouldn’t have been.

His squadron had no problems. They were outstanding pilots in public, but very mediocre in private.

Just ordinary soldiers who obeyed orders but cursed their superior in places where he wasn’t, and sometimes made small mistakes.

People around him often ridiculed him and sometimes worried about him, and everyday life went by. No matter what people outside thought, the squadron got along just fine as time went on.

And one day, three hours before the launch, Ian stopped at a pilot’s door.

Violet’s voice leaked through the crack.

***