Later, Riga joined him.
"Did you sleep well?" Ogai asked.
Riga stretched out for a long time and yawned. He looked at the forest with a satisfied expression. With his eyes on his father, he seemed happy, but a question appeared to trouble him:
"So, dad, what are we going to do?"
"Hmm… I thought about it while you were sleeping. I'm going to inform the kingdom of my return and present myself to the king in person. He may be able to provide us with more information about this illness. But first, I need to retrieve my weapon..."
"Your weapon?" he asked, perplexed.
"Yes," Ogai continued, "my sword. I need to find it. I'll inquire with an old friend. If you're ready, we can head out now."
They set off on the path that led them straight to the heart of the kingdom. Ogai was truly fascinated: nothing or very little had changed, except for a few new houses that had appeared; it was as if time had stopped for twenty years. Also, the only passersby walking the streets were humans: strong men, happy women, playful children, and hunchbacked old people!
First, they stopped at the first street vendor they encountered and sat under the awning to eat. They ordered butter and hazelnut cakes and drank warm milk.
Ogai found his old friend Asagoro the second-hand dealer's house without any trouble. He was excited at the thought of seeing him again and wondered if he had changed. He knocked on the door, but no one answered. So, he decided to head to the merchant's shop.
The grimy windows barely let in the daylight. The candle flames meant to brighten the shop's interior flickered incessantly under the repeated drafts that crept under the front door. The shop was as empty as an eggshell; only a man in his fifties, looking friendly, was comfortably sitting in a rocking chair, absorbed in reading his booklet. Ogai smiled as he pushed the door open:
"That hasn't changed either!"
He always had the same image in mind: his friend alone in his shop, waiting for potential customers. Asagoro, dressed in his small green gown, hurriedly put down his book and rushed toward his new guests:
"How may I help you, gentlemen? Welcome to the Shop of the Seven Senses! I imagine you're lovers of quality trinkets! Are you new to the area? Well, let me tell you, you've come to the right place!"
"And that speech hasn't aged a bit either!" Ogai said, leaning back with a wide grin. "Exactly the same as twenty years ago!"
Asagoro hadn't bothered to look at the faces of his new customers since he was more focused on showcasing his shop. But when he saw this unknown man mocking him without shame, his face froze, and he ended his sales pitch. He stared at him, pouting, then he had a kind of illumination; his face lit up with a radiant smile that rippled through his long gray beard:
"I can't believe it! It's you! Am I dreaming? It's really you, Ogai, twenty years older and with a mustache, but it's you!"
They threw themselves into each other's arms and embraced warmly. The second-hand dealer couldn't hold back his tears:
"But where were you? And who is this young man?"
"This is my son, Riga."
"How he's grown: he's a man now. But let's not stay here. Let's talk at my house."
The merchant closed the shop, and all three of them went to his house. Asagoro made his guests comfortable. He brought some hot tea with biscuits, and they sat in front of the fireplace. They exchanged the usual pleasantries before the conversation took a more serious turn.
"I thought you were dead," he said with an emotional tone. "We all thought you were... you and the boy. If you knew the state we found your house in after you disappeared..."
Ogai lowered his head sadly.
"And where is the other boy?" the merchant continued.
"What other boy?"
"Well, your son Saif," replied the merchant.
"He... he's not dead?" Ogai asked, trembling.
"I don't know. In any case," the merchant continued after taking a sip of tea, "we never found his body... Maybe he's still alive!"
Ogai was overwhelmed by the news he had just heard. Admittedly, his old friend's words didn't prove in any way that his son was alive, but they were still reassuring. He found himself silently rejoicing, thinking that a new, dreamy hope could come true: after returning to his homeland, he might see his son Saif again, the son he thought he had lost forever. Asagoro paused for a long time before resuming with a grave, almost reproachful tone:
"You shouldn't have disappeared like that..."
Ogai put his cup down on its saucer and gave him a puzzled look:
"What do you mean?"
"Well... you were accused of your wife's death. Everyone assumed that after a dispute, you killed her and then fled with the children. At least, that's the rumor that started spreading, which Ragan eagerly spread to tarnish your name. He kept telling anyone who would listen: 'Look at this man you revered like a king! He killed his wife and fled with his two children; but I am the king.' Overnight, your reputation changed entirely."
The second-hand dealer saw the blacksmith's distress and tried to backtrack, even though it was too late:
"Of course," he said with an awkward smile, "I never believed it for a second because I knew how much you loved Maemi."
Ogai's eyes filled with tears of resentment. He didn't even attempt to justify himself to his friend because he felt it was pointless. In fact, he felt a certain bitterness towards the Arcadians he had so supported and helped.
What an ungrateful bunch of bumpkins! he thought. How could they believe such a thing?
He wondered why he had come back to this land where people took gossip behind his back as gospel truth. Maybe they were even more eager for his absence than for his return; he couldn't imagine that the people who had loved and respected him so much in the past now loathed him.
On the other hand, he thought, the true murderer of my wife must never have been unmasked, so it's obvious the suspicion would fall on me.
Asagoro tried to lighten the mood by changing the subject:
"And you, how are you? You've aged a bit, but you still look good!"
"Quite well," Ogai said as sincerely as possible, trying to hide his disappointment. "Even better now that I'm back in my homeland. After what happened at home, I only had time to take Riga and flee to Genib."
"Genib!" Asagoro exclaimed. "So, all this time, you were in Genib? How did you come back? Did you cross the Rassan pass?"
"Yes. The fairy Venitia helped me. In fact, I came back to investigate the mystery surrounding the Black Moon illness."
"Ah! So, you know."
"I'm going to visit the king. He might be able to help me."
The merchant frowned, shaking his head. He looked his friend in the eyes and said:
"Are you sure about what you're doing?" he said, trying to discern what Ogai was getting at. "You know... he never liked you."
"I know," Ogai admitted, the sunlight reflecting in his sad eyes, "but now I'm nothing more than a cowardly and fleeing murderer, right? So, I don't see how I could harm him. The Brotherhood of the Buttercup has long since ceased to exist; I assume the Arcadians have forgotten me. However, if I hide in the streets of Arcadia and the king learns of my return in this way, he could mistakenly see it as a plot. You know how paranoid that mangy dog is. Better to meet him as soon as possible, so he doesn't get any false ideas about me."
"You might be right..."
"That said, tell me a bit about what happened while I was away."
"Oh!" the merchant replied, swinging his arm behind his head. "So much has happened that I couldn't list everything for you. But there are some things you absolutely need to know."
"Like what?" asked Ogai, curious to hear more.
"Well, here it is," Asagoro said, moving closer to his friend. "Just a few months ago, rumors started circulating. It seems that Ragan is preparing for war!"
Ogai recoiled slightly. Likewise, Riga, who had been silent until now, couldn't hide a look of shock.
"War?" Ogai asked, puzzled. "It may sound silly, but apart from Andora, separated from him by the Rassan pass, I don't see who he could fight against."
"Well, exactly," the merchant continued, quickly glancing around as if to check that no one was spying on them, "he intends to cross the pass!"
He leaned in toward his friend and concluded:
"That means he intends to kill the dragon Ryuku!"
"But that's impossible," Ogai said, with a touch of dismay. "Similar rumors say that Andora also intends to kill Ryuku to invade the kingdom. How on earth do they plan to do that?"
"I don't know about Andora, but the rumors of Ragan's invasion of Genib seem to be confirmed, as soldiers hinted that technicians have developed an ultimate weapon, a ballista. And this weapon is supposedly capable of defeating Ryuku."
"A weapon? A ballista to kill Ryuku?"
"Yes, a ballista," continued the merchant, "furthermore, he has recently recruited many infantrymen, and they seem to be undergoing rigorous training, unlike the trivial preparations of bygone days. Yes, until now, no one suspected that Ragan, the cunning ruler he is, had raised an army and had particularly emphasized their training in the art of weaponry. An expert swordsman teaches them fencing every morning, while an expert in close combat teaches them hand-to-hand techniques in the afternoon. The king's warriors are strong now, nothing like the ones you used to know. You'd be surprised if you saw them, believe me."
"I believe you, but I wonder what could have made Ragan change?"
Asagoro smiled mischievously:
"He hasn't changed one bit; it's simply the devouring flame of ambition consuming his rotten little heart..."
They talked for hours, reminiscing about the past. They hardly paid attention to Riga, silent as usual, who passed the time playing with a kitten that had slipped in through the kitchen window. Amusingly, Riga could have rolled on the ground like a dog to signal his presence, and they wouldn't have noticed. He had considered it but refrained for fear of looking ridiculous.
"By the way," Ogai remembered, "I'd like to know if you recovered something that belongs to me."
"Ah, yes!" Asagoro exclaimed. "Good thing you reminded me!"
The merchant leaped up and went to a corner of the room. There, he opened a chest and pulled out a magnificent sword. The long, heavy weapon lay in its lacquered black sheath adorned with gleaming peony patterns.
"Here it is..." he said, carefully handing it to his friend.
"I was sure you would have kept it," Ogai said, taking the weapon in his hands. "Thank you!"
He drew it from its sheath: it sparkled!
"And you even took care of it..."
"What did you think?" the merchant replied modestly.
"Asagoro, I'm going to ask you for another favor: I'd like you to announce my return to the kingdom. Say that I will soon pay a visit to the king. For now, I'm going to practice a bit. Thanks again, Asagoro! Let's go, Riga."
"Goodbye, sir," Riga said politely.
"Goodbye, kid, see you soon!"
What a meeting, Ogai thought as they walked. And such crucial news. My son might be alive. That would be wonderful. Truly wonderful! However, Ragan also wants to wage war. The rulers of our era are truly extravagant. And Maemi... What a strange sensation.
It was the first time he'd heard his wife's name since he left Arcadia. He hardly ever spoke of her or their former life, preferring to hold onto the few joyful memories he cherished. He wasn't that old, yet his memory often played tricks on him. Luckily, all he had to do was close his eyes, and Maemi would appear before him, though her beautiful face seemed to fade with the passing years. Her angelic, irresistible smile? It escaped him once more. So, he searched deep within, delved into the jumble of his past memories, and finally remembered the day he met her in the tailor's shop where she helped her father. Ogai went there to mend his clothes, worn out by his many jobs. Often, after hot summer days, he would go to the flower-filled fields with her. Lying on the sunlit hillsides, they talked and laughed until sunset. Through their conversations, they developed a deep and sincere love for each other. When he gazed into her eyes, he didn't just see her exotically beautiful eyes; he could see his future. She was his future.
Each of their meetings ended with the same ritual: Ogai would weave a flower crown and gently place it on her head.
"Lady Maemi, allow me to present this magnificent meadow-flower crown as a token of this kingdom's appreciation!"
Then he would approach her slowly, and as he brushed her graceful neck to adorn her, he would smell her delicious scent, a blend of musk with the fragrance of her skin. Her scent filled his mind, washing away all his worries, leaving only one thought: Maemi, the love of his life.
Back home, Ogai trained tirelessly from morning to night for a month, under the amazed gaze of his son. His son had no idea that his father was once a great swordsman. Ogai's remarkable fighting spirit quickly allowed him to regain all his famous sword techniques. He had lost some of his former glory, but his reflexes were intact.
Thus, he was ready to set out for the king's castle.