The moon was bright, and the stars were sparse. Tonight, the moonlight over the small town seemed especially bright. The silver light spread across the silent streets, quietly draping the earth in a simple, pure garb.
From the corner of Old John's old house, rhythmic and modulated sounds could be heard.
Upon closer inspection, it was clear that it was the voice of Ino, the Bard, delivering a story in his usual tone.
Inside, Ino was vividly recounting the story of the little match girl.
"...On the cold, long night, the girl struck her first match. It emitted a warm and bright light, like a tiny candle, bringing joy. She felt as if she were sitting beside a large iron stove with polished brass feet and brass ornaments."
"...All the matches were struck! The light illuminated the girl's surroundings, and in the glow, she saw her beloved grandmother, the kind old woman who had passed away. 'Grandma, take me with you. When the light goes out, everything will disappear,' the girl pleaded, running towards her grandmother."
"And this time, her grandmother in the light did not vanish. Instead, she firmly held the girl... They crossed a bridge made of light, reaching a garden where there was never hunger, never cold, and always carefree."
Ten minutes later, Ino finished the entire story of the little match girl.
Contrary to his expectations, Old John did not cry nor choke up. Instead, he appeared relieved and faintly gratified.
"Young Ino, do you remember? The day we first met a month ago, you said: 'Every life has its light, like a burning match—weak, warm, and brilliant. If, before the match goes out, it can light up others, it should not be considered a regret.'"
Old John repeated the words from back then, each word resonating powerfully.
"Do you know how much comfort and confidence those words gave me? My daughter's life was brilliant. She used her life to light up others, even the man she reluctantly called 'uncle.' After the tragedy, he quit drinking and started anew in another city."
Upon hearing this, Ino promptly took over the conversation, saying, "Both the redeemer and the redeemed gained new lives. The difference is, the redeemer's life was splendid and brilliant, not regretful."
"You're right!" Old John decisively agreed, "So, I must also correct my mistakes. With my remaining life, I will light up others and become a true redeemer."
"So, that's why you've been hammering nails and making shoe soles continuously?" Ino asked.
After all, he wasn't blind. Anyone could notice Old John's changes over this period.
"I am a cobbler and have no other skills. But after returning, I learned that on the day my daughter passed away, she was barefoot and even wearing only an apron left by her grandmother."
Despite having made up his mind, Old John couldn't hide his sadness when he talked about the painful memories.
"So, I thought I should use my skills to make sure those who are barefoot have shoes to wear. Even if I can only help one person in the end, I will be content."
...
No matter how long the night, the dawn will eventually break.
The next morning, Ino woke up feeling a bit weary.
He had stayed up late talking with Old John and now got up early, leaving him somewhat fatigued.
Although he didn't necessarily have to rise early, the thought of possibly returning home today dispelled any lingering sleepiness instantly.
"Time to go home again. Feels like I gained nothing this trip, just honed my storytelling skills."
Ino thought to himself as he washed up and packed, assessing the gains from this journey.
It was quite surprising: three baskets of baked bread, several bags of mushrooms, two small cans of kerosene, dried wild vegetables, scraps of cloth...
All in all, it was a considerable pile of stuff.
But the gold coins, silver coins, and even copper coins he really wanted were nowhere to be found.
Looking at the pile of miscellaneous items in the corner, Ino didn't want to take any of it and decided to leave everything for Old John.
After breakfast, Old John, unusually, didn't go out to work. Instead, he watched Ino packing up.
"Are you leaving today?"
"Yes, today."
Ino responded lightly, not forgetting to point to the nearby supplies, reminding:
"All that stuff is for you. Don't refuse, carrying it is a burden for me. Bandits love intercepting travelers with heavy loads."
Old John instinctively wanted to refuse but nodded silently upon hearing the reason, accepting Ino's words.
"In that case, I have a return gift for you. Otherwise, people might say Old John takes advantage of the young."
Looking at the piled-up supplies, Old John stood up and walked to the cabinet in the corner.
It was a very old piece of furniture, so much so that it needed a few stones to barely stay balanced.
Old John rummaged through the wooden cabinet.
Soon, Ino saw Old John's return gift.
A small linen pouch jingled, making it clear just by the sound that it contained at least silver coins, as copper coins wouldn't make such a crisp and pleasant noise.
Beside the pouch, there was also a very old box of matches, which seemed to have been used, with some scorch marks on the edge of the matchbox.
But Ino showed no disdain, instead, he carefully took the matches from Old John's hand.
"Thank you for the gift; I like it very much. As for this..."
Glancing at the pouch on the table, Ino decisively shook his head and refused:
"No one is richer than a Bard. Although our gold coins are stored in our minds, that makes them safer, doesn't it?"
Though he refused decisively, he also felt the difficulty in his heart. Who would willingly give up gold coins?
But in this world, any greedy behavior outside of specific circumstances could lead to unpredictable consequences.
Not giving Old John a chance to speak, Ino directly raised the matches in his hand, explaining:
"I already have the most precious gift and cannot greedily take more."
He meant it sincerely, without a trace of falsehood.
In this magical world, many things couldn't be valued merely by appearance, like the unremarkable divination dice.
Moreover, this matchbox was the key item connecting two stories, making its special nature obvious.
Meanwhile, Old John, after giving the matches, was also closely observing Ino's eyes.
In those amber eyes, he saw no disdain, only sincerity and joy, showing that the other genuinely liked the gift.
"To be honest! I initially didn't plan to give this to you. The gift was just supposed to be the pouch of coins."
Old John stretched out his calloused hand, clumsily untied the string binding the pouch, revealing the captivating color of gold coins.
However, neither Old John nor Ino paid the gold coins any further attention.
Especially Ino, who had seen far greater treasures. A mere pouch of gold coins was not enough to move him.
But the appearance of this pouch also solved his previous puzzle.
Why Old John, without much earning ability, could live steadily in the town for decades after returning.
Finally, he found the root cause.