Shiro and Shahin had no trouble finding their way back, proving that the legend of the Arubi forest did not apply to the Pleiades. They sat waiting for the herdsman's return on the rock in front of the house. Shiro had spoken a little more than usual, while Shahin remained as talkative as ever.
"Shiro," Shahin called out, "have you ever heard of M?"
"Yes…"
"Of course," Shahin continued, "who hasn't? I was born after his disappearance, but the older members of my gang would praise him endlessly. I grew up hearing stories of his legendary exploits."
He paused, hoping for a reaction from his friend. When Shiro remained impassive, Shahin resumed.
"They say that every warrior who dared face him in single combat met with defeat or death. They even say, and some swear it's true, that M single-handedly defeated an entire army. But the most famous story of his life is undoubtedly his encounter with the Demon Akkad. The Arcadians who witnessed the battle were so captivated by their clash that they wrote it down as tales I heard in my childhood. Others even depicted scenes from the battle."
Shahin seemed enthralled by his own story. He took a moment to swallow before continuing in the same enthusiastic tone.
"All of this to say, I've seen some of those paintings."
Shiro wondered why he was so curious. The answer came soon enough.
"Do you know why I'm telling you this?"
Shiro shook his head.
"Well, I'm telling you because I think you look like the M I saw in those paintings. Funny, right?"
The comment brought a smile to Shiro's face.
"M was different from the others," Shahin went on. "He was brave, proud, fearless. He always refused to bow to Ragan. The madman! Few people would dare such a thing, especially since the king mercilessly crushed those who grew too prominent in his eyes. So, M, who defied him, is a hero to me. I would have loved to meet him... He would help me and my band of Grasshoppers overthrow Ragan, for sure! But now that I think about it, maybe you did meet him?"
This last question made Shiro feel compelled to share what he knew. After all, he was old enough to have lived during M's time. Perhaps he had even met him.
He lifted his eyes to the sky, now tinged with a blood-red hue, as if searching his memories; gradually, everything came back, and he remembered who M had once been.
"Yes," he replied, eyes still lost in the crimson sky. "I saw him several times. That was over twenty years ago. M was fiery, arrogant, and reckless. He burned with youth and ambition back then. As you said, Ragan couldn't stand anyone who rose above his crown. He tried repeatedly to subdue M, just as he did with anyone around him. In fact, he even ousted his own father from power! But back to M: he had many flaws but just as many virtues. He was indeed brave and would have given his life to save others."
Shiro paused, then let out a deep sigh. In the fading light, a star brighter than the rest appeared near the horizon, twinkling brilliantly. He pointed to it with his finger.
"Do you see that star?"
"Yes. The one that sparkles like a thousand lights?"
"That's the one. This star is the brightest in both the northern and southern skies. It's also the most beautiful, constantly shifting colors – from blue to white, from white to red, and back to blue, endlessly. It's called Sirius."
"Sirius: that's the star you chose!"
"That man, M, was once also named Shiro. Like me. Like that star, he was the most brilliant man, and his strength shone like a beacon. He was far superior to others in talent. As I said, he was arrogant, challenging the greatest warriors in the kingdom, and they could only acknowledge his martial genius. In his lifetime, no one had ever garnered such admiration from the common people except for your father, Ogai."
"What? My father was respected back then?"
"Of course. He was the most esteemed man in the kingdom. I'll tell you about him after I finish M's story, if you'd like."
"Yes! I know nothing about my father! He's never wanted to tell me anything about his past in Arcadia."
"As I was saying, M was very strong, too strong even. Despite the relentless waves of opponents, none could defeat him. All of them failed. And Ragan did not take that well. The king stumbled over this unwelcome obstacle…"
"The king? Ragan fought him?" Shahin asked, incredulous.
"Not directly, do you think! But who else would send a detachment of sixty men bearing the royal peony insignia? After accusing him of treason, Ragan sent guards to arrest him. They knew he would refuse, so they tried to take him by force, believing their numbers gave them the advantage. But of course, he swept them away like wind sweeping dry leaves. From that moment on, M had declared open war against Ragan.
Shiro smiled before continuing:
'Let him come if he's a man!' he'd say.
"Rumors at court said that the king was both enraged and bewildered by this affront, his authority undermined by a single man. It was another humiliation since M had refused to kneel before him when first presented. Needless to say, Ragan viewed this last defiance as the ultimate insult. To exact revenge, the cunning king devised a wicked plan. He couldn't slander M or confront him militarily, so he targeted M's family."
"What?"
"Yes, Ragan sent two thugs he had bribed to M's village. When M returned, he found his parents kneeling before their home, in a miserable state, clearly beaten by those men."
"'Leave the kingdom immediately!' one of them shouted. 'If you care for your parents, leave now!'
He brandished a sword over their heads. They looked at their son with pleading eyes. M pitied them and their condition.
'Did you hear me?' the other thug repeated. 'Leave the kingdom, or we'll kill your parents!'
But M was not the type to yield to threats.
'I think you misunderstood me,' the young man replied, full of irony. 'What do you intend to do? Kill my parents? And you order me to leave the kingdom, is that it?'
M clenched his jaw and placed a hand on his sword hilt.
'Do you even know who you're talking to? I am M, do you understand? How can scum like you give me orders?'
Resolute, M drew his sword. The thugs couldn't believe it: not only did M refuse to yield, but he also threatened them in return! He had the upper hand.
'No, it's you who should leave the kingdom if you value your lives!' he shouted, gesturing at them. 'Leave my parents out of this, and I'll spare you. You know full well that even a thousand of you couldn't beat me. Leave, and I'll let you live.'
M advanced dangerously. The thugs, momentarily stunned, soon regained their composure. One pressed the blade of his sword to the mother's throat.
'You don't get it!' the other accomplice shouted.
'Shi… Shiro,' his father pleaded. 'Listen to them, please!'
M saw his father's pleading eyes: momentarily softened, his pride overpowered filial love. He couldn't accept such humiliation. He flashed a forced smile at the aggressors.
'No, it's you who haven't understood!' he roared. 'Miserable dogs!'
His father repeated his pleas while his mother burst into tears, but M seemed unmoved and paid no attention.
'I'm sorry, Father. Sorry, Mother,' he said, moving forward while fixing his eyes on the talkative thug. 'I won't give in to these brutes. And you,' he said to the two men, 'will only gain death if you persist.'
'You… you're bluffing…'
But M kept advancing. Less than ten meters separated them.
'Back off!' the accomplice shouted. 'Back off, or we kill them!'
'You won't,' M declared confidently, a smug smile on his lips. 'You won't, because if you do, you'll die!'
Seeing he wasn't bluffing, the two men began to panic.
'But why?' M continued. 'Why are you doing this? Why risk your lives foolishly?'
The two thugs exchanged knowing glances and burst out in a scornful laugh.
'The king isn't ready to give up his throne, and he can't stand a young upstart like you being popular with the people.'
'Ah! Now I understand… It's that treacherous Ragan who sent you. He didn't have the guts to come tell me himself!'
'Do you understand now?' the loudmouth sneered, yanking on the mother's hair as she wept. 'So for the last time, leave the kingdom, or your parents die!'
M hurled his sword at the loudmouth: it embedded itself in his throat. He tried to continue his threats, but only gurgling sounds came out. The remaining thug was paralyzed with fear. M advanced with an animalistic grin. He leapt at the accomplice, who, in a moment of uncontrolled panic, slit the poor mother's throat before having his jugular torn by M's hand.
Alas! The damage was done, and despite his quick intervention, he couldn't save his mother. He did not even spare a glance at the corpses of the men he had just slain.
"Mother!" he cried. "No, Mother!"
He threw himself on her body, but his father pushed him away violently.
"Why? Why didn't you listen to us?"
The poor man collapsed on his wife's body and broke down in sobs.
"Do you love your pride more than your parents? Who will bring my wife, your mother, back to life now, tell me? You and your stupid pride, perhaps? You claimed to be better than others because of your strength, but it didn't help you save your own mother from two lowly thugs! Your heart may be full of courage, but it is entirely devoid of love and compassion!"
Tears ran down the wrinkled cheeks of the old man and fell onto the closed eyes of the deceased. Then he suddenly raised his head, his gaze fierce:
"And you dare call yourself a man?"
M trembled, then began to cry. Out of despair. It was not the death of his mother that caused him so much grief, but rather his failure to save her. As for being harshly reprimanded by his father and being unable to respond…
"Are you crying?" his father asked bitterly. "Are you crying out of grief for your mother or out of frustration because those two worms bested you? You're no better than them, selfish wretch! No better than that dog Ragan!"
The old man's words cut deeper than a thousand swords piercing M's chest. He clenched his teeth, filled with fury. He was enraged at not being strong enough. But was strength really to blame? A scene like this, unless he carried his parents on his back at all times, could have repeated itself dozens of times. His father's anger grew as his son continued to display his pride. He couldn't bear it any longer.
"No, you're not a man; you have the heart of a wild beast," his father roared, casting a hateful, resentful glare at him. "I don't want to see you anymore! Go away! You are no more my son than my wife is alive! Leave, or I'll kill you with my own hands! You are no longer my son! Do you hear me?"
M turned his back on his father without saying a word. Several villagers present at the scene witnessed everything in stunned silence. They couldn't understand M's reaction or how he could be so vain as to condemn his parents to death. Walking through his village felt like a punishment; he endured the scornful looks and insults from the villagers in silence. How had it come to this?
Strength, his greatest ally, had proven useless, even treacherous, in this situation. Was his greatest attribute obsolete? It seemed so. The world apparently needed more love and intelligence than brute strength. Thinking this, he sank deeper into despair. He left the village – his own village – amid the crowd's jeers and stones. What a disgrace!
Later, alone, sitting on a rocky outcrop by the sea, he reflected on the day's events. The sandy beach was deserted. Though the sun was bright and the temperature mild, not a soul was around. Only the lapping waves filled the silence with their constant back and forth. His eyes, filled with unfathomable sadness, and a face overtaken by genuine remorse, seemed about to be engulfed by the sun's reflection on the endless sea.
Looking at the vastness of the ocean – that's what humbles a person, he thought.
Earlier in the day, he had cried out of the shame brought by his pride. Not for his mother's death, and even less for the loss of his father… What horror! he thought. How could a son not mourn his parents! That's monstrous! I'm a true monster! My parents, whom I loved so much, are gone forever… What a disgrace to be so ungrateful and heartless! I will never forgive myself!
He burst into tears. This time, for the loss of his parents and as a human being. His cries joined the wails of the waves, forming a long funeral dirge.
"I renounce strength," he declared. "I will never fight again."
With that, M disappeared."
"So that's it," Shiro concluded. "That's M's story, my story."
Shahin looked at his friend with great empathy. Suddenly, he understood why Shiro's expression was always so sorrowful… and where his strength came from. He was the legendary M, the strongest man in the world, the man from the stories, standing right before him.
What a grim fate… he thought. Not just the sadness on his face but the remorse too. This man has lost everything: father, mother, honor, future. And what does M stand for? Magnificent or Malediction?
"Did you ever see your father again?" he asked.
"No," Shiro said, lowering his head. "I never dared to face him again. I went back to the village to see how he was ten years ago. The villagers didn't recognize me, so they answered me."
He paused, closed his eyes, and sighed.
"Only to tell me he died just a few months after my mother's death. Of grief, it seems. I… I regret it. I truly regret it. I'm ashamed of how I acted. I couldn't even apologize to him. Even though I loved him, I loved them both. But I lived only for myself, my strength blinded me, serving only one person: myself."
He fell silent again, staring into space.
"Since then, I have thought long and hard. I vowed that if I were ever to use my strength again, it would not be for myself but for others, and perhaps even for the Arcadians. Your father came and gave me a chance to redeem some of my past mistakes. I hope to be of use to the entire kingdom this time."
"And you never thought of taking revenge on Ragan? Because he's the one responsible!"
"I did think about it," Shiro replied, letting out a slight sigh. "Let's just say it was the easy way to absolve myself of all responsibility in this matter, and at the same time, all guilt. But I quickly gave up on that idea because it wouldn't have eased my pain. Over time, I lost all resentment. Ragan no longer matters to me, even though I once hated him with all my heart. In fact, one night, in a fit of rage, I nearly attacked the entire castle on my own. I would have likely wiped out that vermin, but I would also certainly have met my death."
"Anyway," Shahin said resignedly, "someone will have to deal with him eventually. He has caused too much harm to his people for too long."
A long silence settled between the two men. Shahin held the utmost respect for his friend and his fate. However, he could not yet foresee that his own destiny would be even more tragic.