7D111I2
The door is shut.
Something just occurred to me.
That a heavy, adamantine door stood between Sancho and I, tightly shut.
Whatever I said wouldn't reach her, and she had no wish to open the door. We stood there in a stalemate.
The Sinners would conceal their troubles, shy away from attempts to understand them, but... in the end, they all wanted something.
There was this certain faith that I, as their manager, would be able to do something for them.
Or at least that they would find their wishes granted at the end of each of their flow.
Yes. They all had dreams.
He no longer wanted to be an outcast. She wanted to be special. He wanted to confront his past.
He wanted to change. She wanted to sail onward, unanchored. He wanted to mend the two hearts broken apart.
And every time, I reached out. I cried out loud each of their dreams to them, and, with some luck, managed to turn them away from the brink.
But... to Don Quixote, whose dream has already ended... Only now do I realize that I have nothing to give her, nothing to tell her.
My role stopped at breaking through each Sinner's barriers to retrieve their lost dreams, squeezing them past the doors to their hearts that remained open still, no matter how narrow the gaps were.
I have never given them something new to dream about.
<Don... Quixote...>
I'll tell you again. That is not who I am.
That fool who used to twinkle her eyes at you, shoving some ridiculous idea of a dream before you is dead.
... Has Don Quixote's dream ended?
Has the dream of the other Don Quixote, who lies there with his body impaled by so many stakes... ended?
I...
What if the dream still... continues?
<Sinclair…?>
My dream...
It ripened and ripened until the rot set in. Thus it fell to the earth and burst.
It is broken. All that remains is the decaying carcass of the dream.
Sancho's lifeless eyes gaze into the distant hollow, seeing nothing in the futility that extends far beyond the horizon.
But... Sinclair redirects her gaze toward himself.
La Manchaland manifests to devour humans, yeah... but it eventually disappears again.
Look, on one hand, it's trying to hurt us humans. But on the other hand... it keeps trying to hide away, too.
Even as he lies there, his body torn apart by thousands of stakes... he's been trying.
Perhaps your 'Father'... even he - Maybe he -
…….
This... is what I think we must do.
... We have to go back.
To the birthplace of that dream.
<…!>
The tightly shut door suddenly shook.
And in front of it stood Sinclair.
A familiar red sign, though incomplete, briefly flickered from his forehead...
... and a blinding white light surrounded him. Sinclair was...
<The Knight of the White Moon.>
... Bari.
Ba...ri...
I haven't... uttered that name... in such a long time.
…….
A human. At my mansion.
A-apologies, your worship. We should never have let her through, but she... she wields all kinds of fantastical weapons. She demanded to be granted audience with you, Father.
A Bloodfiend Hunter, are you? And you've managed to break through my Children's vigilance?
... I commend your skill, human. It cannot have been easy.
So, what is it that you seek from this audience?
Is your wish... to be obliterated without a trace? Or is it to join my Family?
... Neither.
I am here to challenge you to a duel.
... A duel.
I am not like the other Bloodfiends; I have no interest in killing humans for sport.
However, I am also not so generous a Bloodfiend to let a human who dared to walk into her own doom simply saunter away without consequences.
Humans and Bloodfiends are at war out there. Did you know that?
Just a pit fight between unquenchable Bloodfiends and humans who learned to transmute their hatred into delight.
I care not for such degeneracy.
Why do you refuse to take a side?
Should a Family of your might take a side... it would mean the decisive end of the war.
Haven't I already told you? Or does your fleeting human life require a simpler explanation?
I would prefer not to dirty my clothes in a pit fight. I refuse to bring myself down to that level.
... Is that so.
I... am here to do one of two things. One, convince you. Or two, should my first option prove unfeasible, slay you.
Because you are more dangerous than both of them when you're sitting here and doing nothing.
So, duel me.
You won't get a chance like this again.
Because I know exactly what you seek.
Aha...
Not even I am privy to that knowledge...
... yet a human, who knows me not, who has only met me for the first time today, claims to know that?
I know you Bloodfiends.
Those blessed with longer lives than humans, yet cursed to live in greater miseries for every second of that longer life.
…….
I just changed the carpets of this hall. I do not wish to dirty it with lowly human blood.
Leave, and my Children outside this mansion will deal with you.
Should you employ your Children to kill me...
You will never learn the source of your suffering. You will remain unchanging, stagnant, steeped in your misery...
... until one day, the memory of this moment returns to you as regret.
... Father.
If you would allow me, I will quietly take care of this interloper.
Grab your weapon.
Answer my duel...
... and I promise you upon my honor as a Fixer, that I will grant you what you truly seek.
I can... give you...
…….
No human, let alone a Bloodfiend, has ever matched me evenly in strength.
Then I suppose I shall have the honor of being the first human to do so.
... How intriguing.
…….
The duel continued for three days.
Three days without a victor.
…….
... Why not take a brief respite?
It has been three days.
... Three days?
Yes, there's been three sunrises and sunsets. I'm quite certain that makes it three days.
But we are yet to decide a victor.
... Too bad.
At times like these, we must each take enough rest to recover...
... and duel again at a later date. I will return.
You would stop the battle before it ends, allow your enemy to rest... and even promise to reconvene at a later date?
Who decided that these odd rules would become laws?
Fixers.
It's a law of the Fixers.
... Father allowed that human to leave. He did not even sic us Children on her, and that was that.
Will you truly let her leave, just like that? A human who so insolently warned you, of all Bloodfiends, that she would return?
…….
It is their 'law' she says.
Here she is again, Sancho. Go tell her that your Father is indisposed today and has no time to spare for a duel.
Go tell her yourself.
I am growing tired of this.
What joy does that woman get out of this altercation? She could have at least had the courtesy to arrive at our gates with hands full of refreshments...
How should I know?
What I am certain of, is that this intruder will never leave us alone until we open our gates.
By the... why did I ever agree to something so vexatious?
It is about time we put an end to this, Father.
I find no joy in telling you this, but...
... It does not befit your reputation to be locked in a duel with a mere human for so long.
The other Children are... saying things.
... You will understand the pain of dealing with Children when you make Kindreds of your own.
How many times have I told you? I refuse to do such a thing.
How harsh you are.
Worry not. I intend to put an end to this today. I have been planning to do so for a while.
Are you certain that you do not require my assistance?
I should be enough to tip the scales in your favor.
It is all right.
This is a duel, is it not? A duel must be fair and just.
…….
Is that not what she said last time, verbatim?
Something about the... laws of Fixers.
... So, what exactly are Fixers?
... I do not know.
That absurd duel continued with no end in sight.
And I found myself measuring the time, like some... referee.
It is time.
Phew~ That was close. I thought we'd finally have a victor in this duel.
... I would like to ask you something.
Yeah?
What, pray... is a Fixer?
What is this 'Fixer', that has made you so pertinacious and... stubborn?
You have mentioned their laws on our first bout as well... Is the honor of Fixers so significant that you would wager your life on it?
... I can tell you if you want.
And they both simultaneously lowered their weapons.
You're looking forward to her arrival now, aren't you? You are waiting for her.
The fault lies with the human. How dare she cut off her story short right at the climax?
Ah, she's here. She's here! Let her in, will you?
…….
So what happened to that fool whose rope snapped at that exact moment?
No, I must know what happened to the siblings first.
The fool who hung onto a rotten strand of rope fell to the earth, and the siblings lived happily ever after.
What an exciting tale that was. My hands had grown so sodden from the sheer suspense.
... Sancho.
When did you sidle up so close to our conversation?
Bari, do you recall the place you told me of upon our last meeting?
This 'amusement park'.
Mhm.
Will you speak to me of it again?
Haah... Father, this is the seventh time -
Yet no books on heroic tales ever mention such a thing as an 'amusement park'.
Well, then? Tell me, describe the sight.
Children enter there, holding tightly onto their parents' hands.
What of their expressions?
Practically radiant with the happiest, brightest smiles in the world.
All wear pretty headbands or elaborate masks.
And they play such catchy, exciting music all year-round.
People dance to the music, too.
Its guests are free to do whatever they want.
Enter a game of marksmanship at the shooting range. Explore a spooky haunted mansion.
I... I can't say I get the point of all this.
What of this... 'ride'?
This is called a carousel. The visitors each ride upon a steed that goes in circles.
They ride on horses only to go in circles? How utterly devoid of meaning.
And this here is called an 'observation wheel'. Humans use it to view the sights from a higher elevation.
Not only did they craft a giant, its size thousandfold of humans, but also dare to enter its body? What a splendid method by which one may overcome their fears.
You are seriously misunderstanding what this is.
... I have conceived an idea most ingenious.
... And this is where you stop listening to him.
So she says. Should I?
The pair of you are becoming alike in the worst possible ways.
... I wish to build one myself.
An 'amusement park', where humans and Bloodfiends can happily coexist.
I shall call it...
La Manchaland.
Step by step.
One.
Two.
Three. I found myself slowly becoming engrossed in her tales.
That is how his dream... became mine...
But it wasn't long...
... before it was broken and cast aside.
Like my Father.
Yet, there exists an understanding beyond sight.
Why, why does La Manchaland not exist in perpetuity, but seek to vanish only within hours of its manifestation?
It can only be your Father's final, lingering conveyance of his will.
…….
Father gave me Rocinante so that I may embark on an adventure of my own.
But none of my tales were real. They were all... fake.
Once I drank from the River of Oblivion... once I imprisoned myself in a cell of my own making... I spent day after day immersed in these books of 'Fixers'.
And that has tainted my story with vacuous lies and hyperbole.
What was it that you have always said to me?
That it was about time I woke up from my delusions.
Yes. I suppose now is the time I came to my senses.