Chapter 29 - Sleeping King

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Chapter 29

 

 

Aurelian could barely keep his eyes open now. And yet, to the very end, he kept gazing at Fisé.

 

His eyes—so full of longing—fought to stay open until the final moment. His sky-colored irises slowly darkened, lids quivering, then finally closed.

 

From the corners of his eyes, tears spilled. From the corners of his lips, fresh blood flowed. Both streaked down his pale skin.

 

He looked almost like an angel—so close to heaven that even the gods might welcome him. And Fisé kept whispering, don't go. He knew the flame of life was flickering, soon to go out.

 

He knew. And he hated that he knew.

 

He didn't want any other power. He didn't want anything else in the world.

 

All he wanted—was the power to keep Aurelian alive.

 

"Please… just give me time—until Aurelian recovers… please, give me time!"

 

He didn't know if gods truly existed—not even fairies knew that. Nor angels, for that matter.

 

Humans painted images, carved statues, gave them beautiful faces like Aurelian's… but whether such beings existed, what they looked like—no one truly knew.

 

So Fisé's prayer was not to gods. Not to angels. He prayed only to himself—the one born as the Rose King.

 

Just this once, he pleaded. Let his instincts be wrong. Let him defy the impossible. Let him grasp the power to pull Aurelian back from the edge of death.

 

He would give up anything—even his life—without hesitation.

 

Maybe the reason so many of my wishes never came true… was because I never paid the cost needed to overturn the impossible.

 

Wishing alone can't change the world.

 

Humans who face hardship push themselves past their limits. They defy the fate dealt to them—sometimes offering their very lives—and press on, even at the expense of their own happiness. Only then do miracles—things that should never happen—come to pass.

 

All he'd ever done was stare at the world through the bars of a prison window, believing that just wishing was enough.

 

He had never truly fought.

 

And now, this failure… this mistake—even if Aurelian forgave it, Fisé never could.

 

He had to make it right. With these hands, he would atone.

 

He would pour all the magic he possessed into healing Aurelian's wound.

 

And once he had witnessed Aurelian whole again— he didn't mind disappearing.

 

When that time came, he would scatter into the breeze like the scent of roses, and brush gently against the lips of the one whose life he saved.

 

"Fisé! Fisé, I've finally found you!"

 

As Fisé continued pouring fairy magic into the bloodstained rose, a voice rang out behind him, making his shoulders flinch.

 

It was Launis. He had followed.

 

But Fisé didn't turn around.

 

Every ounce of his will was focused on saving Aurelian. He couldn't afford even the smallest distraction.

 

"Fisé—it's terrible! The king… that man has regained consciousness! He's sent soldiers here to capture you and Prince Aurelian!"

 

Launis had raced across the snow and white roses in the form of a black cat. His breath came in sharp pants.

 

And the moment he laid eyes on Aurelian's collapsed form, he leapt straight into the air with shock.

 

Fisé, too, could no longer hide his own unease.

 

Still channeling power into the blood-dripping rose, he looked down into Launis's feline face, now settled at his feet.

 

"The king… he's regained consciousness? Then that means… last night, he was still unconscious?"

 

"Yes. He was pushed into the fireplace. His face and hands were burned. Prince Aurelian was the one who did it—they say… it was to help you escape the country, Fisé!"

 

"Aurelian… pushed him? That's impossible! That cannot be true. Most likely, the man tried to strike his own son and failed—only to be met with justice."

 

"Yes—of course, I don't think Prince Aurelian will be charged with any crime. But now that you've left Twydal, it's a serious issue. Even farmers with horses have joined the search party. This whole area… it's completely overrun with roses, you can be spotted from anywhere. Please—you must flee. The border isn't far!"

 

Launis, in the form of a half-grown kitten, gestured wildly as he spoke in a rush.

 

He surely understood that Aurelian was hovering on the brink of life and death—yet what he prioritized was Fisé's safety.

 

The command given to him by the former Rose King—to protect Fisé—had long since been etched into his very being as an unshakable duty.

 

"There's a strong horse in the stable. A powerful stallion—you can ride it and escape. You're light, Fisé. The horse will run fast. We can still get away!"

 

"Launis, I'm staying here. Please… be quiet. I need to focus."

 

"Fisé… I understand how you feel, I do—but you have to think clearly. Even I… I care deeply for Prince Aurelian. Seeing him like this breaks my heart. But the dead—once gone—cannot be helped. Human lives are short… fragile things."

 

"Aurelian is not dead. He's still alive."

 

"But… but his pulse—it's…"

 

"He is alive."

 

The thought that Aurelian might already seem dead, even to Launis with his keen feline senses, sent a chill through Fisé's mind.

 

And yet—through the blood-stained rose—he felt it.

 

Was the sound truly gone? Would warmth soon fade from that motionless body?

 

Would that youthful, beautiful form decay, become food for nameless insects, and return to the soil?

 

Would his soul ascend to the heavens, leaving behind only blackened earth in Fisé's hands?

 

If that happened… he couldn't go on. He'd be consumed by guilt, by sorrow—unable even to fall into hell, and would simply vanish… as the scent of roses on the wind.

 

"Fisé… I hate to say this, but… his breath, his heart—both have completely stopped. Please… let's go. Even Prince Aurelian wouldn't want you dragged back to your cell."

 

"He's only sleeping. He's resting, to recover."

 

Yes… that must be it. Of course it is.

 

When someone is injured, the first and most basic treatment is rest.

 

Even animals are the same. Some species even hibernate, lowering their bodily functions to survive the harshness of winter. Humans and beasts alike have always protected themselves through stillness.

 

"Aurelian, sleep just a little longer. I will protect your slumber with everything I have. I will help your body recover—slowly, gently. So please… grant me some time."

 

Eternal sleep is despair. But temporary sleep—that is rest, filled with hope.

 

He is not dead.

 

Like Snow White with the poisoned apple caught in her throat, Aurelian lies in a suspended slumber, awaiting the moment he will awaken.

 

Whether it is possible or impossible—Fisé does not know. But such thoughts are meaningless now. His will is unwavering, so firm that no instinct rises to argue with it.

 

"Fisé… Ah—look, the forest!"

 

Launis darted around like a startled hare, scanning the surroundings—but Fisé's eyes never left Aurelian's face.

 

As he channeled healing magic through the blood-soaked rose, he began to weave a fortress of brambles into the forest.

 

His senses sharpened; he no longer needed his eyes to feel the movement of the roses.

 

The creeping vines that once lay hidden beneath white blossoms now surged outward with frightening momentum—wrapping around trees, spreading across the snow-laced ground, expanding with no regard for restraint.

 

In the blink of an eye, the fragrant world of white that surrounded the royal villa was swallowed by a storm of green.

 

The massing vines tangled like yarn in a loom, groaning as they squeezed and pressed together.

 

They filled every gap so that not even a single person could pass—and then, they began to grow upward toward the sky.

 

"A-amazing… Fisé, you have… this much power…?"

 

Launis stood frozen, his tail bristling and upright, as the shadow of thorns stretched across him.

 

And beneath that enormous shadow, both Aurelian and Fisé disappeared.

 

A thorned cage—or rather, a fortress—that by all rights Fisé should not have been able to create, now surrounded the royal villa and the nearby forest like the trunks of ancient trees.

 

Above Fisé, Aurelian, and the feline Launis, a canopy had formed—a ceiling of thorns. At the top, a small opening let in a shaft of light, like the crack of a spoon tapping the head of a green egg.

 

"Aurelian… now, no one can disturb you. Not the king, not his soldiers, not the people—no one shall trespass upon your rest. I'll shield you from the sunlight, from the snow, from the rain. I'll protect you from it all."

 

Still holding the rose, Fisé placed his other hand on Aurelian's neck.

 

For a while, there was no pulse. No sound. And yet… his skin remained warm.

 

As Fisé kept his hand there—his palm, grown attuned to Aurelian's temperature, detected something stirring.

 

At that very moment, Launis gave a startled cry: "Ah!"

 

With those keen triangular ears, he had heard it.

 

It was faint. Ever so faint.

 

But the beat had returned.

 

Thump… thump…

 

Slowly, gently, Aurelian's heart began to stir.

 

Launis's wide eyes widened, glistening with tears.

 

 

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