Chapter 49
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Chapter 49: Nightmare (2)
‘I lied to Charlon.’
Damion had withheld the truth about his dream. What he shared wasn’t the dream he actually had.
In his real dream, he was at Hag Olga’s house.
Olga was there, Charlon was there, but Stuga wasn’t.
Up to that point, what he told them was true.
But there was one more person present—Jedrick.
‘The prince will die, in the most miserable and painful way he could imagine!’
Olga had prophesied.
Then, the surroundings turned black, and everything disappeared.
That’s when Charlon rose.
Jedrick rose as well.
The two of them left, abandoning Damion.
Damion screamed.
‘Where are you going without me? Didn’t you hear what Olga said? She said I’m going to die. Why aren’t you saying anything?’
The two held hands, looking at each other with loving gazes.
Anyone could see they were like a pair of affectionate lovers walking away together.
‘Don’t leave me.’
When Damion recounted his dream to the others, he repeatedly emphasized that it was just a dream.
He wanted to reassure himself.
‘It’s a dream. There’s no way those two would fall in love and leave me behind. Charlon is my betrothed, and I’m so deeply in love with her. She wouldn’t betray me.’
Then it struck him.
‘Have I ever told Charlon that I love her?’
No, he hadn’t.
It hadn’t even been a week since they met.
Saying such a thing so quickly would be insincere.
‘Has she ever told me she loves me?’
He hoped their feelings weren’t just a fleeting passion.
That’s why neither of them had mentioned love, or so he convinced himself.
Even when describing the part of the dream where Lamuel appeared, Damion hadn’t been honest.
‘Die, Damion.’
Ramuel had shouted as he stabbed Damion with a sword.
‘You can’t take what’s mine. You’ll have nothing—no land, no woman, no throne. It’s all mine.’
Then, the sky roared.
‘Come to me.’
Damion leapt into the mouth of a whale.
‘You were mine from the beginning.’
He struggled to shake off the nightmare and opened his eyes.
He found himself seated on the chair reserved only for the chieftain of Elum’s tribe.
Looking down, he saw Olga kneeling before the roaring fire, as bright as it had been during yesterday’s feast.
She glanced around nervously like a kitten torn from its mother and thrown onto a cold stone floor.
Beside Olga, there was a bloodstain left by Claive.
‘They didn’t clean it properly.’
Damion had ordered his knights to secretly dispose of Claive’s body.
They wrapped it in a large cloth and carried it away.
Whether they could deliver it to his father without being caught by the Geron people remained uncertain.
Royal knights were experts in combat but not in covert operations.
"Look at me, Hag,"
Damion commanded.
When Olga glanced towards Jedrick, Stuga, and Charlon, Ikarum scolded her in Geron language.
Then he forcibly grabbed her face, tilting it upwards.
‘I’m not sure bringing Ikarum was the right move.’
It wasn’t the knights who brought Olga—it was Ikarum.
Damion had told Jedrick not to hide their meeting with Olga and to inform Ikarum beforehand to avoid any misunderstandings.
Following his instructions, the knights had first sought out Ikarum, who then personally brought Olga.
Inside the hall were only knights of the Triton royal family and knights from Born.
Jedrick was the only other Geron present.
Alone among armed enemies, Ikarum stood unshaken.
‘He truly is remarkable. I couldn’t do that.’
Five royal knights stood beside Damion.
Three knights from Born stood beside Charlon, with three more joining when Terdin arrived.
Stuga and Jedrick had deliberately stepped back.
Damion hadn’t intended to let Born’s knights inside.
But Charlon argued that admitting them would better conceal their actions.
‘If only the prince’s knights enter and try to hide something, Born’s knights will report suspicious behavior to Rusef. And with his personality, Rusef will investigate further. But if we allow Born’s knights to witness you questioning Olga, they’ll associate last night’s commotion with the scene here.’
It was a sound argument.
So as soon as Claive’s body was removed, Charlon personally summoned Born’s knights.
‘She’s a wise woman. She covers details I overlook or would likely miss. And yet I doubt her because of some ridiculous dream!’
Damion’s anger towards Olga, who knelt like a criminal, only grew stronger.
"Did you use some strange trick on us yesterday, Hag Olga?"
"I don’t understand your meaning, my prince."
Olga bowed her head.
The mysterious aura she had the previous day was nowhere to be seen.
Damion had made sure of that.
The atmosphere from her space had to be broken.
"You gave us teacups yesterday, didn’t you?"
"Yes."
"What did you put in them?"
"Nothing."
"The cups smelled strange."
"What kind of smell? I always clean the cups thoroughly."
"A fragrant smell. But if you cleaned them well, such a smell wouldn’t be there."
"Sometimes I leave tea leaves or dried petals in the cups on purpose. It doesn’t affect cleanliness, and…"
Damion interrupted her.
"The prophecy you gave us about our future—was it true?"
"As I mentioned before, I merely relay what I read from the runes."
"After hearing your prophecy, I had a nightmare. Was that just a coincidence?"
This was the reason he had summoned Olga.
But as soon as he spoke, he regretted it.
‘I swore not to be swayed, yet here I am, letting it control me. How much will the knights mock me for this?’
But he couldn’t take back what he had already said.
"If you say it was merely a coincidence, I’ll drop the matter."
He genuinely intended to move on.
All he needed was a minor disturbance to temporarily overshadow Claive’s death.
‘I can address it later. For now, let them think it’s a coincidence.’
But Olga didn’t answer immediately.
She hesitated, groaned, and finally spoke.
"Dreams reflect reality, and reality shapes dreams. My prophecy was just a simple task to guide the future ruler of this village on how to handle our superstitions. The answer I hinted at was a simple phrase the prince should have spoken at the moment."
"Even if the tides of fate crash over me like waves, I will rise above them with my will. You said that’s what I should have said."
"Precisely. But the prince didn’t say it. By denying it, you were already influenced, and that might have caused the nightmare."
Damion resisted the urge to nod.
Even the knights unfamiliar with the situation seemed captivated by her words.
The proof was in how their once-hostile expressions softened.
‘This is a kind of test. If I’m to rule here, I have no choice but to go through this.’
Olga had warned that denying the superstition would bind him to it, and she was right.
He was now frantically trying to deny it.
"Fine. Then I need a different process to break free from its influence. Your prophecy yesterday was filled with negativity. How can I prevent it?"
Olga didn’t answer immediately, seemingly gauging both Damion’s and Ikarum’s reactions.
"Speak. Yesterday, you said to drink herbal extracts three times a day and pay ten gold coins. I’ll do it. What herbs do I need?"
When Olga hesitated further, Ikarum shouted at her in Geron.
It sounded like he was demanding a response.
Olga shrank back.
Damion wanted to stop, feeling sorry for her.
‘If my pity for her is part of her trick, I’m already caught.’
Olga finally opened her mouth.
"The herbal extract is a metaphor."
"I know. This time, I want a literal answer."
"Since the prophecy was read through the runes, the way to prevent it must also be read through the runes."
"Then read them. You said when ripples appear, throw another stone. Read the runes. I’ll throw the stone."
Olga glanced at Ikarum again.
Damion shouted in frustration.
"Don’t look to your chieftain for guidance. I’m the one commanding you here!"
After shouting, Damion regretted it once more.
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This was how Freed Gallant interrogated people, a method Damion despised.
‘I’m shouting in the tone I hate most. This is unbearable.’
He worried about what Charlon might think but couldn’t bear to look at her face.
"Understood, my prince."
Olga untied the pouch at her waist.
It turned out to be two pouches tied together.
She opened one, and flat stones like the ones from yesterday spilled out.
Olga began arranging the stones one by one.
Her gestures were the same as the day before, but her hands and shoulders trembled.
With her face lowered to the ground, her expression was completely hidden.
Still, she looked like a frightened kitten.
"The runes speak. Listen to the voice called by the northern wind. Soon the earth will tremble, the fire mountain will breathe, and it will guide you to the sanctuary of the old gods..."
Olga tried to speak, but Damion stopped her.
“Enough!”
“Pardon?”
“Don’t confuse me with metaphors laden with the rhythm of poetry. I want something simple, like ‘three drops of weed extract.’”
‘That’s just like Father’s way of speaking. I can’t escape it.’
Damion found every word he spoke unbearable, but he couldn’t change it here.
“Then I will do as you say.”
Olga swallowed hard and continued.
“About an hour’s ride north from here, there’s an ancient cave. Before the Geronians lived here, before even the Triton Kingdom occupied this land, the ancients who dwelled here built a temple. They worshiped a god named Iktaron, whom we later called Raham—the father of gods.”
“You mean the same god, just with a different name?”
“Our god’s name is said to be a rewording of the old god’s name. I don’t know exactly what the previous name meant. My grandmother called him that, and her grandmother before her did the same. Forgive me; I only read Rune. I don’t know everything.”
Olga spoke politely.
“Fine. Iktaron’s temple. What’s next?”
“There, burn this powder.”
Olga presented a second pouch, opening it slightly to reveal red powder inside.
“There should be a suitable spot within the temple. When red smoke rises, four people must share each other’s blood. It’s our Geronian way, a vow not to harm one another. Then, listen to the god’s voice. You may find a way to avoid Tanu.”
“Avoid Tanu? Is that also written in Rune?”
“It is.”
‘Four people?’
When Damion glanced at Charlon, Charlon was already looking at him.
Jedrick glared only at Olga.
In the shadows beyond the firelight, Stuga’s expression was unreadable.
‘I’ve never mentioned that four people had nightmares! How does she know that all four of us had the same dream? Or is she just assuming that since four came yesterday, all four must go today?’
“What is Tanu?”
Damion asked as if ignorant.
Jedrick hadn’t told him anything, so Olga would naturally think he didn’t know.
“In our mythology, Tanu is the god of death who collects shadows.”
“Just a heathen god, then? I won’t go. I have no reason to fear such an evil god, nor to visit a heathen temple.”
“That, too, is your choice, Your Highness. But the prophecy says disaster will unfold if you do not go.”
“That pile of stones has so much to say, doesn’t it? What kind of disaster?”
Damion mocked.
“If three shadows are collected by Tanu, the serpent of the apocalypse, Malarhatu, will descend. Then Ramelon will sound the second horn, Akamantum will set the sky ablaze, and the gods will go to war. When the serpent consumes the final shadow, humanity will vanish.”
“Grandiose, but I don’t understand a word of it.”
Damion tried to shed his father’s tone but ended up sounding like the bishop he despised.
“This world was created by the one true god, and only His name protects us. I can’t even remember all these heathen gods’ names anymore! They can’t harm us.”
“I understand. As I said, I merely read Rune.”
“Enough. Leave.”
As Olga gathered the Rune stones and the pouch of powder, Damion asked her.
“Why did you bring that powder and the Rune? It’s as if you knew I’d ask about dreams.”
Olga answered, confused.
“I am a hag. I always carry such tools, just as a warrior carries a sword or an herbalist a digging tool. Especially after last night, when Ehoden appeared and dragged me out with a grim face, I assumed it must be because of the prophecy. That much was easy to predict.”
She spoke in a near whisper.
“Didn’t I say yesterday? If Your Highness has a stomachache, it’s more likely from the honeyed mead you drank than the boar meat you ate. Being a hag is like that.”
‘Yesterday, I laughed when she said hags cause colds. Now she’s telling me I’m doing the same thing.’
Olga accidentally dropped the pouch of Rune stones and the powder bag onto the floor.
“Take them. Without these, I can’t divine the prophecy. Even if you throw the powder into this fire instead of Iktaron’s temple, I can do nothing. You are a conqueror. Take everything we have; we can’t resist…”
Ikarum roughly covered Olga’s mouth, his hand gripping her jaw so tightly it seemed he meant to break it.
“Stop that! What are you doing?”
Damion shouted, and Ikarum muttered something.
Jedrick quickly translated.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om
“He says to pay no heed to the hag. Her words have misled us to defeat in war before…”
“I said, stop it, Ikarum!”
Damion yelled, and Jedrick repeated his command in Geronian.
Ikarum finally released Olga, throwing her to the ground so roughly that she fell.
Her face, red and bruised, looked even frailer.
No one helped her up.
Damion felt guilty but couldn’t find words of comfort after what he had said.
“I didn’t summon her for punishment. Imprison her again. But!”
Damion added, just in case.
“Without harm!”
Jedrick conveyed the order, and Ikarum led Olga away.
The heavy doors of the banquet hall opened and closed with a loud thud.
The silence that followed felt oppressive, like unspoken reproach.
Unable to bear it, Damion broke the silence.
“All of you, leave.”
The knights exited without a word.
Strangely, the ones Damion wanted to stay—Jedrick, Stuga, and Terdin—remained despite the order.
“General, you’ve been quiet. Now’s the time to speak.”
Damion looked around the now-empty hall.
“I still have nothing to say, Your Highness. I’m only here because I wasn’t sure whether to obey your command or not.”
Terdin replied calmly.
Damion forced a smile.
“Don’t you have anything to question me about?”
“Question? You handled things calmly. Though… I do have one question.”
Terdin pointed at the two pouches Olga had left behind—one with Rune stones, the other with red powder.
“What will you do with those?”
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