Chapter 1 - Prince Thumb's First Love

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Chapter 1

 

 

Spring arrived in Vanfalista, the Kingdom of Abundance.

 

Carrying a handwoven basket at his side, Mylphe wandered through the forest on the outskirts of the royal capital. Inside the basket were chicken and honey-mustard sandwiches, along with a flask of fragrant tea.

 

Patches of snow still lingered beneath the trees, so he wore wool-lined boots and a warm cloak against the lingering chill.

 

He had come in search of the wild berries that ripened at this time of year.

 

It was still a little early in the season, but if he waited until they were perfectly ripe, the birds would surely feast on them first. Better to pick them while they were still a touch tart and sweeten them with sugar afterward.

 

He made berry jam every spring. Last year's harvest had been so sour that the finished jam had ended up containing more sugar than fruit.

 

I wonder how they'll taste this year. I hope plenty of them are just right.

 

His footsteps were light as he walked over the soft earth enriched by decaying leaves.

 

Warm afternoon sunlight filtered through the canopy overhead. Just as he wondered whether he'd even needed his cloak, several birds began chirping sharply from the branches above, their cries sounding almost like reproach.

 

"Are you scolding me for coming to pick them so early? Don't worry. I'll only gather enough for about three jars of jam, then I'll head home. I won't take too many."

 

Chuckling softly, Mylphe spoke to the little birds before crouching beside a patch of berries.

 

Clusters of fruit hung from the bushes, pleasantly ripe, and the charming sight brought an unconscious smile to his face.

 

He carefully chose the berries with the most even coloring and the clearest, plumpest texture.

 

He popped one into his mouth.

 

Its bright fragrance flooded his senses, filling his nose and mouth with the fresh sweetness of spring.

 

It was far sweeter than it looked.

 

He had expected to be harvesting them early, but they were at the peak of perfection.

 

Maybe I should be a little greedy and pick more. I do love berry jam...

 

After tasting another berry, Mylphe silently offered thanks for nature's bounty and the peaceful days he enjoyed.

 

Vanfalista was known throughout the world as the Kingdom of Abundance. For more than two hundred years, it had never suffered invasion from foreign nations nor been torn apart by civil war.

 

The kingdom sat high in the mountains, with steep cliffs and vast forests surrounding most of its borders, making it nearly impossible for enemies to invade.

 

The royal family and nobility imposed heavy taxes, so the common people were hardly wealthy. Even so, no one lacked food, clothing, or shelter, and most lived modest but comfortable lives.

 

Hm? Is that... a dog barking?

 

Just as he was about to empty his basket to make room for the berries, a series of loud barks echoed through the forest.

 

Even in such a peaceful kingdom, wild animals occasionally caused trouble, and Mylphe instinctively became cautious.

 

He had planned to enjoy his sandwiches surrounded by berry bushes, but if wild dogs were nearby, this was no time to relax.

 

I hope they're hunting dogs with their owner...

 

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than another sound reached him—a hoarse human voice.

 

"Shoo! Go on, get out of here! Go away!"

 

An elderly woman's voice rang out from deeper within the woods.

 

Mylphe immediately broke into a run.

 

He was so small that people often mistook him for a child, and he had no idea what he could possibly do. Even so, whenever someone was in trouble, he simply couldn't ignore them.

 

"Gr-Grandma... ma'am! Are you all right!?"

 

When he reached the scene, he found a white-haired old woman cornered by two wild dogs.

 

She had climbed a tree in desperation to escape them, but one of the dark-coated dogs had sunk its teeth into the hem of her cloak, tugging at it again and again.

 

If it managed to drag her down, she would crash onto the ground below—and at her age, the fall could easily leave her with a devastating injury.

 

"P-Please... help me!"

 

"Y-Yes! I'll do something!"

 

Acting on instinct, Mylphe snatched up his sandwiches, tore them in half, and held the pieces out toward the dogs.

 

He was terrified they might bite off his fingers along with the food, but he forced his trembling hands as far forward as they would go.

 

"It's chicken. The mustard isn't spicy either, so... it's probably delicious."

 

Even as he spoke soothingly to the dogs, he desperately prayed in his heart, Please don't bite me.

 

A huge crimson mouth suddenly gaped open.

 

"Eep!"

 

He cried out, bracing himself for blinding pain.

 

But none came.

 

The sandwiches vanished from his hands in an instant, and instead of his fingers being bitten, they were merely licked over and over with relentless enthusiasm.

 

Apparently satisfied after swallowing the sandwiches whole, the dogs snorted contentedly through their noses before wandering off into the forest.

 

"Ah... thank goodness."

 

"Thank goodness..." He repeated the words twice more before his legs finally gave out beneath him, and he sank to the ground.

 

Now that the danger had passed, the memory of those enormous fangs left his knees weak. He couldn't bring himself to stand again right away.

 

He wanted to help the old woman climb down from the tree, but first he needed just a moment to recover.

 

"I'm sorry... could you wait just a little longer?"

 

But there was no one in the tree anymore.

 

Surely she hadn't jumped down...

 

Startled, Mylphe looked up, only to find the old woman already standing directly in front of him.

 

Dressed in black robes, she gazed down at the crouching Mylphe with wide, bulging gray eyes. She looked genuinely astonished.

 

"You know, you could've lost your fingers back there."

 

"H-Huh...? N-No, I don't think they were that vicious..."

 

"Oh, they were. If they'd truly meant it, that's exactly what would've happened."

 

The old woman looked him up and down before letting out an impressed grunt.

 

"You're so scrawny and tiny, yet you've got courage. That's something to be proud of."

 

"Really? No one's ever told me that before."

 

Mylphe, who ran a small furniture shop on the outskirts of town, was accustomed to being praised only for his craftsmanship. Such unexpected words made him smile shyly.

 

He had never once thought of himself as brave.

 

If anything, he considered himself timid—a person who disliked change in every aspect of life.

 

Things had only worked out because he'd happened to be carrying sandwiches. It was nothing more than good fortune.

 

If he'd had nothing with him...

 

He didn't dare imagine what might have happened.

 

"You called me 'ma'am,' didn't you?"

 

"...Y-Yes."

 

Fearing he had somehow been rude, Mylphe stiffened.

 

Instead, the old woman smiled warmly, her deeply wrinkled face softening.

 

"I'm obviously a dried-up old crone, yet even in a situation like that, you still tried to spare my feelings. You've got courage, and you're thoughtful besides. You're a good child."

 

"Y-You're too kind..."

 

Being praised yet again only made Mylphe feel embarrassed, and he hurriedly scrambled to his feet.

 

It wasn't that he'd been especially considerate. Running a business that dealt with customers every day had simply taught him to be careful with his words, no matter the situation.

 

He thought the old woman was praising him far too much, but it wasn't as though being praised could make him unhappy.

 

His face grew hotter and hotter until he felt as though he must be turning as red as the berries.

 

"I ought to repay you. I'll give you something truly special."

 

"There's really no need to repay me... Just knowing you're grateful is more than enough."

 

As Mylphe politely declined, the old woman spread both hands wide.

 

"I'll grant you any wish you have."

 

The old woman certainly looked as withered as she claimed, but when Mylphe looked more closely, he noticed that her features were remarkably well-defined. It was easy to imagine that she must have been quite a beauty in her youth.

 

Her back wasn't hunched, either. She stood perfectly straight, carrying herself with an air of confidence.

 

"Any wish?"

 

"That's right. Tell me what you want. If it's something I can give you, I'd be happy to give you anything."

 

The old woman spoke as casually as though she were a fabulously wealthy benefactor, leaving Mylphe too overwhelmed to know what to say.

 

She hardly looked as though she possessed everything in the world. If anything, she seemed rather poor.

 

Looking more closely, however, Mylphe noticed that the inside of her cloak was lined with numerous pockets, apparently stuffed with all sorts of things—leather pouches, wooden boxes, and the like. Even so, she certainly didn't look wealthy.

 

"Um... truly, I'll just accept your goodwill. That's more than enough."

 

"There's no need to be so modest. I may look like this, but I've been a sorceress for several hundred years. If you asked me for a hundred gold coins, I couldn't do much about that. But if there's something you truly desire, I might be able to give it to you. Go on, tell me. I'll grant you something no ordinary human could ever hope to have."

 

"A sorceress...? Then... you're a witch?"

 

"Indeed. Though I don't particularly care for being called that."

 

The old woman smiling beneath the bright sun was quite different from the witch Mylphe had imagined.

 

When he thought of witches, he pictured them deep inside dim caves, surrounded by the flickering light of candles, fiddling with crystal balls or brewing strange potions in enormous cauldrons. Yet the woman standing before him was simply an old woman basking in the sunlight.

 

Her eyes gleamed so fiercely, brimming with vitality, that they almost dispelled the withered impression of her age altogether.

 

"Now, tell me your true wish—the one hidden deep within your heart."

 

Mylphe hugged the basket containing his tea close to his chest and pressed his lips together.

 

He had never told anyone his deepest wish.

 

It wasn't something he could easily speak of, nor had he ever had anyone to whom he could tell it.

 

The old woman before him claimed to be a sorceress capable of granting any wish, but if she truly possessed such power, surely she could have dealt with the dogs herself when they attacked her.

 

The fact that she'd climbed a tree and cried out for help made it obvious that she wasn't omnipotent.

 

In other words, there was no point in telling her what he wished for.

 

And yet, simply being asked made his heart move of its own accord, brushing against the deepest desire he'd kept buried inside.

 

If she truly possessed the limitless power of a god, then there was only one thing Mylphe would ask of her.

 

He wanted his parents and his elder brother and sister-in-law, who had died in a rockfall accident, to be brought back to life.

 

With the four people who had run the furniture shop gone, Mylphe's lively household of five had been reduced to a life of solitude almost overnight.

 

"Ah, no. Bringing the dead back to life is beyond my power. Turning back time is impossible, too. Even the gods couldn't do such a thing."

 

"...I see."

 

Of course.

 

He had known all along that his true wish could never be granted.

 

His father and brother, both strong men who had excelled at hard labor; his mother, skilled in woodworking; his sister-in-law, who had been such a wonderful cook...

 

They were all sleeping in the cemetery now.

 

They would never simply sit up and rise again, still wearing the faces and bodies they had possessed in life.

 

"You must have other wishes, though?"

 

"I wonder. Right now, there's nothing I..."

 

I can think of, Mylphe almost said.

 

But then another wish quietly surfaced in his mind.

 

Ever since his parents and brother's family had died, he had longed for someone to talk to.

 

The only creatures Mylphe ever spoke to were birds and cats. The only humans he spoke with were his customers.

 

He had always wanted to chat with them about things unrelated to business, but he had never been very good at carrying on a conversation. He could listen to what his customers wanted and discuss their orders, but he could never bring himself to go beyond that.

 

He had never made a single friend.

 

And although he was already nineteen, he had never had a lover, either.

 

"What is your name, child?"

 

"My name is Mylphe. I run a furniture shop on the outskirts of the royal capital."

 

"Mylphe. That's a lovely name. Now, don't be shy. Tell me your true wish."

 

"Um... I've never told anyone this before, but... I'm a little... unusual..."

 

Mylphe glanced around the forest to make sure there was no one nearby except the old woman, then slowly drew a deep breath.

 

He knew there was no point in saying it.

 

And yet, perhaps some part of him simply wanted someone to hear him.

 

He had never been able to tell his parents. Never his brother, either. He had kept this secret buried deep in his heart since childhood.

 

And now, hesitantly, he finally gave it words.

 

"I think... I'm attracted to men."

 

Strangely enough, the moment he confessed, the weight pressing upon his heart seemed to grow lighter.

 

So he really had wanted someone to hear it.

 

He had wanted to tell someone about this part of himself that society looked upon with disapproval—to have someone acknowledge it, and accept him for it.

 

The old woman had yet to say anything, but Mylphe couldn't help feeling a flicker of hope.

 

Perhaps a sorceress who had lived for hundreds of years, someone who had seen far more of the world than ordinary people, might look upon him differently.

 

Perhaps she might offer him words of tolerance and understanding.

 

That was what Mylphe hoped.

 

"So that's it. You want a lover. A lover of the same sex..."

 

The sorceress's raspy voice suddenly brightened as her gray eyes darted this way and that.

 

With a gesture rather like a bat grooming its wings, she peered into the inside of her black cloak.

 

She began feeling along the numerous inner pockets arranged from top to bottom, muttering to herself as she searched.

 

"Was it this one? No, not that. Not this, either. I'm sure it was somewhere around here..."

 

"A lover of the same sex... That's such an outrageous thing to ask for..."

 

"You do want one, don't you? I can tell. You may look like a child, but you're already a grown man."

 

"—!"

 

"There's no need to be ashamed. It's perfectly natural."

 

Mylphe felt as though the old woman had seen straight through him, from the very depths of his heart to the nakedness beneath his clothes. The shame was so overwhelming that he went pale.

 

He had wanted someone who could understand this unusual inclination of his—the fact that he was drawn to men rather than women. He had wanted someone he could talk to.

 

But what he truly wanted was a lover.

 

There was a part of him that thought simply having someone beside him, someone who would talk with him, might be enough. Yet, in truth, both his heart and his body longed for something more.

 

Just as the sorceress had said, he was no longer a child.

 

"Very well. I'll give you a lover who is perfect for you. Though there are a few problems."

 

"—Huh?"

 

Even after being told that she would give him a lover, Mylphe couldn't bring himself to believe it. He stood there, rooted to the spot.

 

The handmade basket he was clutching gave a sharp creak.

 

Between his astonishment, nervousness, and the faint glimmer of hope stirring in his heart, he had squeezed it far too tightly.

 

"He's quite a bit older than you... probably a little over a hundred years older, and considerably shorter than you. Would that still be all right? Ah, but you needn't worry about his appearance. He looks young. He's merely been asleep for about a hundred years. He isn't some old man."

 

"Y-Yes... Um, really?"

 

The old woman seemed to have found the inner pocket she was looking for.

 

"Here it is, here it is."

 

She pulled out a leather pouch and held it out to Mylphe without hesitation.

 

Mylphe felt as though he had been caught up in some strange dream. There was something vaguely frightening about it, but he timidly reached out his hand.

 

The soft, supple leather was warm, almost as though it were alive.

 

"...It's warm."

 

"Because it's alive."

 

For a moment, Mylphe wondered if the warmth had merely come from the old woman's body. But judging by the way she said it, there seemed to be more to it than that.

 

"Mylphe, listen carefully. Even a sorceress isn't all-powerful. If I panic, I can't even drive away a pair of dogs, and when it comes to people's hearts, there's even less I can do. Whether he'll become your lover or not... well, that's something only the gods can know. But he'll certainly be someone you can talk to. To that man, you'll be the one and only person in the world."

 

"The one and only person...?"

 

Mylphe carefully cradled the leather pouch in his hands, sensing something living within its warmth.

 

Until now, he had been unable to believe the old woman's words. But the thing he was holding was unmistakably something mysterious.

 

Something unknown—something utterly beyond what Mylphe's common sense could comprehend—was resting in his hands.

 

"To make sure you become that to him, I shall grant you a special gift—a power you will soon come to need. I will grant you the sight to perceive fairies... Otherwise, you won't be able to see the man's form."

 

"That man... is a fairy?"

 

"He was originally human. But he couldn't survive for a hundred years in that form." The old woman then took out another bundle. "You'd better not lose either of these, so wait until you get home before opening them."

 

She smiled at the dubious Mylphe with her deeply wrinkled face.

 

And so, she taught him how to awaken the man from his long sleep, as well as how to make his eyes capable of seeing fairies.

 

 

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