TYND 41

Theon hadn’t been carrying Rothy around from the start. He’d let him stand on his own and greet the nobles properly. But once, while rushing between events, Rothy had tripped while scrambling to keep up. After that, Theon started carrying him, and now he refused to put him down.  

“I’ll ask Rothy directly. Rothy—”

“But I like being carried by Theon.”

Rothy swung his small, polished shoes and nuzzled his head against Theon’s shoulder, mussing the hair Ultje had meticulously styled.  

“You heard him.”

Theon strode forward again. Ultje, Chungnip, and Zey stopped in their tracks and exchanged glances. 

What the hell was that……? 

Since when did His Grace become so overprotective?

Since when did the Demon of Seará start coddling Rothy like this…?

They’d noticed Theon had changed, but only now did it hit them just how much… The once fearsome and cold archduke now doted openly on Rothy, treating him like he was made of glass. Naturally, the rumours began to spread in an unsavoury direction. Whispers spread that Theon hadn’t married Rothy for the North’s benefit or because of Yolone Sirin’s dying wish, but because Rothy had been his bedwarmer since the war.

It was inevitable that such rumours would appear even if Theon hadn’t carried Rothy around. But once Rothy began demonstrating his exceptional magical abilities, those nonsense would disappear on its own. However, letting his reputation suffer until then wasn’t ideal. So Theon and his aides decided to bury the gossip with a grand spectacle.

Two days before the festival’s closing ceremony, Theon, Rothy, and Chungnip slipped quietly out of the estate. To avoid leaks, only the three headed to Sourv, the central city of Falsen territory—a tourist hotspot many in the empire dreamt of visiting. It was also the de facto capital of the North. 

The reason? 

“So this is the climate-control tremuhle… I’ve always wanted to see it.” 

One of only two climate-control tremuhles in Araxys stood here. At the heart of Sourv’s central square was a domed building. Inside was a cylindrical pillar, 14 centimetres in diameter and 180 centimetres tall. When a magic stone was placed in this pillar, it created a barrier that shot up through the building’s roof high into the sky, spreading outward to cover the North like an umbrella.

The barrier had no effect on people or animals, it simply increased the heat capacity of the air within its covered area. A high heat capacity meant it required a lot of energy to reach a certain temperature, but once warmed, it stayed warm. This effect transformed the cold and harsh North into habitable land. However, the barrier, a lifeline for all Northerners, currently operated at only twenty percent due to lack of magic stones. 

By early April, the central and southern empire would already be blooming with flowers and butterflies, while the North still clung to thick fur coats. At twenty percent operation, this was manageable, but without it, blizzards would still rage. 

“It’s so incredibly precise and complex. Anyone can tell this wasn’t made by humans.”

Chungnip marvelled at the tiny components inside the pillar. The delicate lines and parts were so intricately connected that one wrong touch could render it irreparable.

“I’d no idea the interior was this complex. How did Cerlouvins figure out how to use such a complicated tremuhle?”

“He was the world’s best engineer. There’s a museum with an exhibit about his life next door. You can visit it tomorrow. His birthplace’s an hour away as well.”

“His birthplace? But Cerlouvins was from Droight.”

“How dare you!”

Count Hagen, the mayor of Sourv, glared. 

“He spent his final years here! He died here in Sourv! What matters more—where someone was born or where they chose to end their days?! He left Droight because he despised it! Yet those fools still claim him as theirs. It’s disgraceful!” 

Northerners were infamous for their possessiveness—once they claimed something, they never let go.  And since Cerlouvins was a figure of greatness, both Droight and Sourv fought to claim him as their own.

Chungnip quickly changed the subject. 

“So this is where the magic stone goes. It’s empty. Even the active ones are nearly depleted… There’s about 12,400 wyons left…”

“That’s right. But we can manage until the end of this month. Thankfully, our winter will be over by next month.”

Count Hagen sighed deeply, then flinched as if realising his rudeness in front of Theon and hastily covered his mouth. 

Not that Theon gave a damn. 

His attention was on Rothy as he carefully set him down and gave a slight nod to Chungnip, who then in turn tugged at the count’s sleeve. 

“Let’s wait outside, Count Hagen.”

“What? But— I want to see His Grace’s magic with my own eyes. He’s the youngest archmage in history and—”

“His Grace’s rather shy. Let’s go.”

Chungnip led the count out of the building. Now alone, Theon knelt down to meet Rothy’s eyes.

“You only need to replenish the magical power without touching the components. Can you do it?”

“Yes, I can do it now.”

Rothy’s eyes sparkled. For a boy who lacked self-esteem and doubted himself in everything else, this was the one area he never wavered. Rothy knew just how powerful his magical abilities were. 

“You don’t have to fill it to one hundred percent. Just as much as you can manage. And feed it slowly in intervals.”

“I don’t feel pain even if a lot of magic power drains out at once. But you’re so kind, Theon. Thanks for worrying.”

Theon frowned, the crease between his brows deepened. 

“When you say it doesn’t hurt, do you mean you take no damage at all, or that you simply don’t feel pain?”

“I don’t know…”

He’d asked before, and Rothy had answered the same. It was something they’d need to address eventually.

“If I fill this all the way… it’s 103,800 wyons. That amount doesn’t hurt me, and my magical pool’s infinite. I can do this, and I can do it now. I’ll repay my debt to you, Theon.”

“We’re the one who owes you a debt.”

“Why…?”

“Without you, we wouldn’t have even dreamt of ending the war.”

Rothy cocked his head, then let his brows droop. 

“I wish you wouldn’t think that way… You’re repaying a debt you never owe in the first place, and then I’ll have to repay that. Then you’ll have to repay me again. Then I’ll repay that… We’ll be trapped in a cycle of debts, forever repaying each other…”

Theon looked down at Rothy quietly and blurted out, 

“You’re cute.”

Then, he ran a hand over his lips. 

“Did I just say that out loud again?”

“Yeah.”

The corners of his mouth were lifted—not just slightly, but unreservedly. Late, he’d had moments where he couldn’t control himself and blurted out his feelings. It was embarrassing. He wasn’t even a child…

“But… what was cute?”

“What else but you?”

“No, I’m not cute. If you think I’m cute, then I think there’s something wrong with how your emotions are wired…”

Rothy’s brows pinched together in seriousness, but Theon gently smoothed out the tiny crease on his clear forehead. The weasel nestled in Rothy’s arms lifted its head, yawned, then flopped back down.

Theon wanted to pull Rothy into his arms, to feel his warmth, the adorable weight of him like a small bird perched there. However, they’d to finish this first. 

“Stop immediately if anything hurts.”

“Mhm. Stay behind me.”

Theon stepped back.

Rothy closed his eyes. Though invisible, the tempest of magic swirling around him was palpable—his snow-white hair stirred in the magically charged air. After a moment… the fading magic stone glowed again a bright dazzling blue. Now, pulling the lever would activate the northern barrier.  

“Done. This will last half a year.” 

Rothy turned around to face him, no sign of exhaustion on his face. To the uninitiated, it might’ve looked simple, but Theon knew better because Chungnip had already explained it several times on the way there. Rothy had just poured in magic equal to 7,500 magic stones from the Great Northern Mine—future historians would call it a legend, not fact.  

“If you give me more time, I could make it last a year.”

“No, this is enough.”

“But—”

When Theon held out his arms, Rothy brightened and scampered over. He then swept Rothy into his arms and left without a backward glance.