Iris Allen POV:

There was once a beautiful country whose houses were made of diamond and its grounds were fields of flowers. The food was as beautiful as nature, and its taste was as sweet as candy. The water was so clean that it reflected the clouds and the sun with perfect haleness. The clothes that the country folk wore were woven with a soft material that brushed against the skin with an utmost gentleness; in fact, these clothes were so soft that they lulled crying babies to sleep. Even monsters roamed freely in the city, but none were hostile, for monsters were also inhabitants of this country. There was no discrimination, no hostility or ill-will between people, only love, joy, happiness, laughter, and all that’s positive in life.

There were two factors that created this magical country: the king and the walls.

The king who founded the country was the world’s strongest warrior. He was so strong; his fists dented metal. He was so fast he outran the most agile of beasts. And he was so powerful that his presence alone caused veteran warriors to tremble. However, the yet to be king was dragged into a war he had not intended to be a part of. For the yet to be king had been a man who despised violence. But the war caused not only the yet to be king to be dragged in, but those who followed him as well. He had no choice but to take part.

The war devastated the yet to be kings home, so he and his followers went on a search for land to inhabit. They crossed seas and their monstrous tides that swallowed boats, lands that blazed with fire, forests that confused those with vast intelligence, land ruled by monsters whose incensed nature sought any catalyst to create ease.

Exhausted, sick, famished; the people who followed the yet to be king began to question themselves and their goal; they remained uncertain of whether or not they had a place on the earth at all. But the yet to be king had remained optimistic even as he lead their strenuous trip. And, as they continued their search and all hope seemed lost, the yet to be king spoke to ignite the dwindling lights that existed within his followers hearts. “We who search have a place meant for us. We who’ve endured hell have done so not out of futility; for we who venture, venture for a home that is devoid of the cruelty and frailties that lied in hiding within our old home. And the children; they should not have to recognize the incompetence of we who live. So we must venture onward for the children’s prosperity and for thy whom yet to be!”

It was then that those who followed the yet to be king realized that this man is the one who they shall depend on; he is the light to brighten up the dark days; he is the man they shall name their king. And so they continuously endured hell, until finally, after searching for years, they reached land that they could call their own. That’s when the king made his first declaration; a declaration that echoed within the empty stomachs of man and woman, stringing the heart free of its knots, and engraving itself to mind.

“We will build a wall so high that it shall trap the sun and shield us from the unknown blackness that lies above! We will build a wall so tough that metal shan’t pierce through! We will create homes that shine with joy! Food that tastes as sweet as sugar! Clothes that lull roaring children to sleep! We shall befriend the beasts and welcome this as our inhabitants! For we whom exist within these walls seek peace from the cruelness!”

The kings followers followed their kings words precisely, and they created what he had envisioned: they built a wall so tall that it trapped the sun and shielded them from the unknown blackness above, they built a wall so tough that metal could not pierce through, they built homes of the most lustrous material they found, they cooked food that was as sweet as sugar, and they made clothes soft enough to lull roaring children to sleep.

Everyone is happy.

*****

My eyes opened to the sight of a dimmed white light – that seeped through the curtains on the window to the right of me – partly luminating the roof above me. I rose my head and looked around me, confused and weary: a mahogany dresser that – on top – has a porcelain mirror, located on the left side of the spacious room. A small desk placed near the dresser that held a lamp, and on the roof, in the middle of the room, a chandelier that glistened to the slightest hint of the luminance that seeped in from the curtain. An embroidered carpet that spread from white wall to white wall. Peculiar paintings that held no coordinated shapes or distinct coloring. It is when I heard the rustling of the satin covers that lay flatly on top of me, that I realized I am in my bedroom. I plopped my head back as the pillow underneath caught it. I looked at the roof.

Usually when I dream, I dream of a bunch of nonsense that correlates in no way whatsoever. Here and there I’d dream of something vivid, and I can feel myself move within the dream, but as soon as I wake up I forget what the dream was. The dream I just woke up from is one of many stories Mary read to me so I could sleep. But as I got older, Mary became busier with the academy and couldn’t read to me anymore.

But what I find odd is that the story I dreamt of is a story I vaguely remember. It isn’t a story that held my interest intensely, nor is it a story that I absolutely loved. It’s a story Mary read once to me, and we moved to the next story. A story meant to pass time to make me more tired. Even now, as I attempt to piece together the rest of the story, I can’t. I don’t remember the rest. It frustrates me that the more I think about the story the more I want to know about its contents.

‘I should ask Mary for the rest of the story.’ I thought.

I rolled over to the right edge of my bed while remaining underneath my satin cover, smiling as I slid on the bedsheets, eyes closed to feel the thrill of never knowing when the end of the bed may arrive. I felt the air of the room brush against the sole of my foot, indicating that my foot is no longer underneath the cover. I stopped rolling immediately and opened my eyes. I’m at the end of the bed. I stood up and walked over to the window and peered through the curtains.

The moon sits high in the sky as the stars twinkle around it. I looked for any signs of people or carriages that were parked on the road but saw none.

‘The party must be over.’

I walked over to the door, ignoring my appearance in the mirror, and proceeded to Mary’s room, down the hall.

“Maryyy.” I called out in front of the bedroom door, soft enough to not gain the attention of any maids that may scold me for being up, but loud enough for Mary to hear.  “You there?”

I heard a bed creak as the sound of angry stomps quickly made their way closer to where I am, as the door flung open. “Where the hell were you!? I was going to go looking for you, but father said I shouldn’t interrupt you. What were you doing anyways?!” Flustered from my older sister’s sudden outburst, Mary pulled me into a hug. “I was worried, you know.”

My entire life, Mary has been my hero. But to be honest, I’m not too sure what a hero actually means; is a hero someone who saves another when they’re in need of saving, or someone who makes another feel like they’re enough? If it’s the first, then Mary is my hero. To the smallest things like when I struggle to speak around new people, Mary speaks for me. Day’s where I struggle to sleep alone, Mary sleeps with me. When I am in need of saving, it is Mary who saves me.

Mary is my big sister. My confidante. My hero.

Mary is a war orphan adopted by my mother and father, which is why she doesn’t look like either of them. Mary has hip length crimson hair with matching ruby-colored eyes. Her skin is fair, and although taller than most females, she is a few inches shorter than my father; unlike my father, however, she carries herself solemnly and confidently. Right now she’s wearing a red night gown.

“I’m sorry. Father had me meet a… boy.”

“Huh? Are you okay? He didn’t do anything to you, did he? I’ll go talk to our father. Wait here.” Mary wasted no time, immediately heading towards the door, getting ready to haggle our father… or worse.

Struggling to hold Mary back, I spoke. “No, no, no! He didn’t do anything to me. He’s a very nice boy.”

Mary froze in place for a couple of seconds before spinning around on her heel and walking towards her bed. Upon sitting, she patted next to an empty spot next to her. I sat where she wanted me to.

“I see. A boy. A nice boy at that.” Mary gave a cunning grin. “Does my little sister have her first crush?”

“N-No! We met for the first time today!”

“Mhh.” Mary laid down. “What’s his name?”

I laid down next to her. “Albus.”

“Albus… Oh! That’s the Alistair boy, right?

I nodded.

“Albus, huh? Albus… He’s a genius!” She blurted, scaring me.

“Genius?!”

“I remember our father talking to me about Albus. I’ve never met him, but I knew that he’s Tadashi’s little brother.”

“Oh, yeah. Tadashi introduced himself as Albus’s birthday when I met him tonight.” I looked at the chandelier that’s styled differently from the one in my room. “I didn’t know they were so well known.”

“Of course they’re well known! They’re the sons of Samuel Alistair!”

“Samuel Alistair… You’re lying!” I exclaimed, sitting up. “Albus never told me that!”

“I’m telling the truth.” She shrugged, grinning smugly.

“You mean The Samuel Alistair? As in THE Samuel Alistair that saved our father?”

“Yes. The same Samuel Alistair that not only saved our father but is also one of Darcy’s Pillars.”

So when Albus introduced himself to me, the person standing next to him was Samuel Alistair? Now that I think about it, my father did call that man Sam. Ah! I feel so stupid!

“But how come I never heard about Albus or Tadashi? I only found out who they were today.”

“They’re mainly talked about amongst nobles.” She sighed. “Good and bad.”

“…”

“Even so, I’m surprised you haven’t heard about them. The men that father usually meets with are people from Albus’s village. That’s where I hear all about them and their exploits.”

“Exploits?”

“Yeah. Tadashi protects the nearby villages on his own, earning him the nickname ‘Demon of The Longsword’ because of the overwhelming pressure he emits and his longsword… Oh, he’s also a grade 0.”

“What about Albus?” I asked, genuinely curious.

‘I wouldn’t be surprised if she said Albus was known for his teasing.’

“Albus is said to be a once in a century genius. The kind of genius that is bound to become a pillar of Darcy. He even defends the village from attacks on his own. Our father said that, as of right now, Albus could be ranked grade 5.”

A once in a century genius? Protects an entire village on his own? Albus is the same age as me yet he’s so much more impressive, even more impressive considering that father himself praised Albus!

“What else?” Mary asked herself, tapping on her chin. “Oh, there’s that part that they’re well-liked in their village.”

“Well liked how exactly?”

“Alistair Village isn’t that large, but there’s still hundreds of citizens there. And all of them have a love-like loyalty to both Tadashi and Albus. They’re especially popular amongst the women. They’re still single, surprisingly.”

I don’t know why but hearing that Albus is popular amongst women frustrated me. I mean, Albus kissed my hand then called me beautiful out of nowhere! How egotistical is he to tell me that when there’s plenty of girls that like him? I bet he tells that to all the other girls as well.

“Wait… I guess that means Albus probably likes you then.”

“W-W-What?” I felt my heart sink a bit, and my cheeks became warm. “H-How do you know that?”

“He doesn’t usually talk to girls. Some of the things I heard about both of them is that they’re both very reserved. Albus is similar to Tadashi that way. If Albus talked to you long enough to miss my birthday party, then doesn’t that mean he likes you? Or at least interested in you?”

The memory of Albus talking to me under the moon made me blush heavily. I could tell I turned extremely red because Mary laughed at my face, saying she could practically see smoke coming out of my ears.

Calming down, I began to talk: “Mary, what are you going to do now? Are you going to marry or are you going to be a mage?”

Mary graduated from Krumore Academy’s Mage Craft program last week. She’s remained silent about what she’s going to do next. I know that Mary’s been getting marriage offers from other nobles, but I know she isn’t going to go through with any. Mary isn’t that type of person. But I’m still curious as to what my big sister is going to do next. Maybe she’ll take the heirship of the Allen family like my mother wants her to. Actually, I doubt she’d do that too. Mary doesn’t like business.

“Why not both? I love being a mage. I’m a grade 4 right now, but my goal is to reach grade 1 like our father. Once I reach that, I plan on joining the royal corps under the king. Then maybe, just maybe marry.”

“Mhh… is there a guy you like now?” I asked getting underneath the satin cover.

“To be honest, I’ve had a crush on Tadashi for a while now.”

I looked at her with genuine surprise on my face. All my life Mary’s never told me she had a crush before. I expected her to brush off my question. “Really? Like Tadashi Alistair? Albus’s older brother, Tadashi?”

“Yeah.” Mary got underneath the cover with me. “I’ve known Tadashi since the war. He’s the one who found me when I was all alone… Tadashi is someone I want to be like. His strength, his courage, and the fact that he has endured so much yet doesn’t complain. I envy him… unfortunately, today I find out my love was unrequited.”

“Wait. Does that mean you confessed to him today?”

“Yup. To be honest I expected it. But the more I watched him, the more I heard his name, the more my heart felt tied together by knots. My heart got so tight I just had to confess.”

“… I didn’t know. To think he rejected you on your birthday… that’s a dick move.”

Mary slapped the back of my head. “Watch your mouth.”

“Ow!”

“Where’d you even learn that word?”

“I heard father say it.”  I answered, rubbing my head.

She laughed.

I felt bad, watching as Mary put on a smile. I can tell she’s trying to be strong because I’m here. But if I weren’t, would she cry? Can Mary cry? Not once have I actually seen Mary cry.

“Are you okay – no, that’s a stupid question. Forget I asked.”

“Hehe. It’s true I’m not ok, but I’m also kind of relieved.” Mary grinned. “Do you wanna know how Tadashi responded?”

“How?”

Mary spoke mimicking Tadashi’s voice. “‘I want to uphold the happiness of my family. I want Albus, my mother, and my father to feel nothing but happiness in this world. Which is why I, alone, must make it happen. Even if it means that I must be unhappy, it’s better me than them.’ Is what he said. It wasn’t a direct answer I could tell what he meant. After all, I’d do the same for you all.”

“I see…”

We laid in silence for what was only a few seconds. I moved my body closer to Mary’s, hugging against her. The cold night air that slipped through the cracks of the bedroom window seemed to not have affected the temperature of the room at all as I felt the warmness of Mary’s body take over my own; I’m still warm when I’m with Mary. It’s a relief. She’s my relief. Mary turned over to hold me directly.

‘I’m not alone right now. I’m loved. The warmth one feels when holding onto another is love.’

A cold wetness seeped through the fabric of my nightgown, touching on my bare skin. And this is how I know, with this single encounter, that what I once thought; an ideal I profoundly held close to my heart, is false, and that the truth is that this love I feel is a shelter; a means to hold me within complacency of my own weakness.

Mary forced a giggle. “I guess it’s going to be a little awkward tomorrow at breakfast.”

“What do you mean?”

“You didn’t know? The Alistair family is staying here. I think they’re staying for two more days.”

“You’re lying!” My head shot upwards to look at Mary’s eyes for confirmation. “I haven’t seen them at all!”

Mary looked down at me. “Our father probably kept it a secret from you to surprise you with Albus.”

‘He did?! Father’s usually so protective but not with Albus?! Then why did Albus not tell me? He also sounded like he was going back to his village when we said goodbye. No, it makes sense considering his sadistic personality. He’s probably trying to surprise me tomorrow. I should punch him when I see him…’

“Mary.”

“What’s wrong?”

“…Nothing. I’ll ask you later.”

That night, I fell asleep side by side with the person I loved most. My big sister. And that night, my big sister who I thought was my hero shed real tears. Mary tried so hard her entire to life to endure as Tadashi had. The small amount of tears she shed carried every ounce of sorrow and pent-up frustration she had garnered over time; tears that she had held back, only accumulating an insufferable burden, like a dam on the brink of busting, and all it took was a heartbreak from the man she loves to release it all.

I guess even heroes cry sometimes.