On the third day, Orb spent his morning looking listless in bed. He did not take notice of any of Jerboa’s attempts at conversation, and he refused to eat and did not react to Riecho’s urging him to at least take a few sips of soup she made especially for him.

Even with the sudden visit of Akinos’ private physician at the order of the Crown Prince himself, Orb did not react. He had been stripped of his shirt, and his back was thoroughly examined while Jerboa and Vermon watched him with furrowed faces.

When the physician announced that Orb’s blood had been cleansed from the traces of the poison, Vermon partially felt relieved, knowing that the danger of the fever fits was over. Yet, he felt quite concerned over Orb’s dejection and did not know what to do.

Before teleporting himself to where Akinos was in the Imperial Palace, Vermon stood aside for some time, watching Figling move Orb’s limbs to wrap new bandages around his back. Still, Orb, all the while, was rigid and remained for a long time in the position in which he was placed. Orb was silent, expressionless, almost lifeless, and Vermon did not like it.

***

In the afternoon, Jerboa sighed while looking at the closed window. “They say in Arkosia that if a willow grows near water, it will sing in late afternoons to solace sad people and animals,” Jerboa said dreamily, hoping to get a reaction from Orb, and he did.

He saw Orb close his eyes. He attempted to imagine the scene.

“It doesn’t discriminate,” Jerboa added as he hopped to Orb’s bed and held his bandaged hand, “It will sing for you. Let’s go, my lord. Let’s enjoy the peacefulness of the place. I promise you will like it,” he said sincerely.

Orb opened his eyes slowly and fixed them on the ceiling above him for a few moments before allowing Jerboa to lightly pull his hand and help him sit up. Jerboa then hopped onto his shoulder in excitement he could hardly contain.

“Vermon made you a cane of olivewood and left it by the door for your personal use. You could use it every time you wish to leave the room,” Jerboa explained excitedly as he eyed the thin white cane resting on the wall next to the door.

Orb froze, his limbs unresponsive to his companion’s excitement, who was very late to discover his mistake.

“A—are you angry with Vermon?” Jerboa timidly asked.

Orb did not give a reply, but left the bed, walked across the room resolutely toward the door, and grabbed the cane with a force that alarmed Jerboa. Three seconds later, Jerboa saw the cane engulfed in flames.

“My lord! The cane’s on fire! Hurry, throw it away!” the panicked Jerboa saw the flames licking Orb’s hand, which carried the cane like a spear. Yet, Orb’s face remained expressionless and revealed no traces of shock or fear.

“How did this happen?” Jerboa stopped asking questions when he saw Orb run out of the room. Jerboa ran after him and hopped quickly through the corridor over the banisters to the courtyard until the two reached the peaceful pond.

Just then, Jerboa saw Orb throw the cane into the pond and stand there, fixing his dead eyes at the disturbed water surface he could not see. The astonished Jerboa observed the curl of smoke as it ascended from the floating cane on the shallow surface of the pond, and then at Orb, who maintained his expressionless face.

“Did you do that, my lord?” Jerboa suspected that Orb was the one who generated the fire, just like that time when he almost burned the Royal chamber of Akinos.

“…”

“Maybe you did not mean it,” Jerboa nervously looked at Orb, “am I right?”

Feeling disappointed at not getting answers from Orb, Jerboa sensed how angry Orb was.

“B—but my lord! It was a gift!” Jerboa murmured.

“What’s the use of gifting a cane to a dead man?” Orb spoke with a hoarse voice for the first time that day.

Orb then walked back and sat under the willow tree without facing any difficulty on his way to the tree. He knew his way and the land of the courtyard was naturally leveled. Sensing that Orb was unwilling to respond positively to anything related to Vermon, Jerboa remained silent for some time and allowed Orb the chance to enjoy the natural sounds of the world around him.

Orb listened to the wind as it rushed through the willow tree above him and ruffled its lush branches gently. The constant rustling leaves sounded like a song solacing his pensive soul and warming his lonely and frightened heart.

He felt calm. Jerboa was not exaggerating.

***

One hour later, Orb slowly stood up and cautiously walked toward the massive statue. Jerboa witnessed a slight change in his expression. He silently gave his attention to a strange flower, feeling its stems, and touching its petals with his fingertips with great attentiveness and care.

It’s the flower Vermon mentioned. Jerboa’s eyes glowed in excitement.

“It’s a beautiful flower!” Jerboa exclaimed happily, then proceeded to hop from one place to another over the carved skulls, on the arm of the statue, and finally on Orb’s shoulder, where he settled and added, “I think it is blooming for the first time because as far as I remember, I’ve never seen it in Vermon’s yard.”

“I believe it’s an unknown species,” Orb whispered.

“Ah, my lord, you are a good omen.”

“Good omen?” Orb echoed Jerboa’s last phrase in disbelief.

“Don’t you believe me?”

“No.”

“Ouch!” Jerboa sounded hurt.

Still fixing his eyes on the flower he could not see, Orb did not mean to be rude, but he had heard the opposite his entire life from the people closest to him. As that had left a permanent stain on his soul, it was hard for him to believe otherwise about himself.

Jerboa did not seem to take it to heart, for he knew Orb was depressed and in no mood to entertain others with polite responses. Yet, Jerboa’s excitement spurred him to ask another question. “By the way, did you give it a name?”

Orb gently touched the flower’s delicate petals as he asked absent-mindedly, “For the flower?”

“Yes, you should give it a name.”

Orb straightened up quietly, his eyes glued to the flower, but said nothing. However, the idea of naming this beautiful yet eerie-looking flower had been present since he discovered it, and he already chose a name since he spoke to Vermon about it. Orb was not ready to talk that much and reveal one of his intimate secrets.

***

The next day Jerboa, who shared Orb’s bed, opened his eyes as his big ears captured the sound of faint rustling close to the bed. He raised his head and saw Vermon leave the two books of Akinos secretly on the side table. It was dawn, and Vermon was probably checking on Orb while both were asleep.

Jerboa pretended to go back to sleep and waited for Vermon to leave. He was unaware that Vermon had returned the books after confiscating them and forbidding Orb from reading. Yet, the foolish rodent considered that a secret act of care and thought it interesting because it revealed a cute side of Vermon he never wanted anyone to see.

When Orb woke up, Jerboa told him about Vermon’s bringing the books for him to read. Although Vermon’s deed allowed him to acquire the books again, Orb felt hurt. Yet, he did not want to argue with Jerboa and refrained from saying anything negative about Vermon.

Jerboa, however, postponed the reading and managed to take Orb again to the willow pond and spend the day there. Jerboa then chose to talk about some of his most exciting adventures with Akinos, and Orb was content to listen despite the partial headache caused by the endless chatter of Jerboa.

It was noon when the sky had cleared, save for one large gray cloud which lingered and hovered directly above the willow across the inner yard. The light breeze made the warmth of the midday sun pleasant, and the willow leaves gently swayed back and forth.

Jerboa urged Orb to roll up his pants and soak his feet in the warm water of the pond. However, Orb refused quietly, as he did not want Jerboa to see Vermon’s flogging marks on his exposed calves from days ago. He could not see them, but the constant sting of the bruised flesh was a sign of their intense presence.

Orb did not want to disclose the details of the tree incident and cause Jerboa any unnecessary worries. He also worried that Jerboa would tell Akinos about Vermon’s mistreatment and stir a problem between the two friends. What happened was already over and done.

Thus, in an attempt to change the topic, Orb asked about Vermon without thinking. “Jerboa,” Orb started in a cautious low tone of voice, “Where is Vermon?”

Orb just realized he had not seen or smelled his scent for two days. Despite the peaceful times he spent with Jerboa, up to that point, Orb expected Vermon to appear out of nowhere to disturb their peace and interrupt their solitude with his sarcastic comments, threats, or throwing unreasonable tantrums, but that did not happen.

“He’s in the Imperial Palace with master,” answered Jerboa casually as he lay on his back, chewing a stick in his mouth and enjoying the cool breeze and the relative warmth of the weather. Then he turned to Orb and curiously asked, “Why are you asking, my lord?”

“It’s nothing,” Orb calmly replied, leaning against the willow trunk.

“Don’t worry about his injury. The wound on his neck healed. I saw it this morning,” Jerboa smiled and added, “I remember when I saw his wound three days ago, it was serious and hideous. You bit him fiercely in your fit, but luckily your fit was a short and moderate one, unlike the first time you went berserk in the palace.”

By the time Jerboa finished talking, the utter shock on Orb’s face was clear, and his eyebrows were deeply furrowed.

“Jerboa,” Orb hesitated, “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He sounded genuinely bewildered.

***

Jerboa pricked his big ears in the air, hopped over Orb’s bent knee, and asked earnestly, “Don’t you remember anything about your attack on Vermon when you were sick with a fever four days ago?”

“No.”

“What about your attack on the Crown Prince last time?”[1]

“No.”

“Oh!” Jerboa looked alarmed as well. It never occurred to him not to talk about Orb’s fits, as he assumed that Orb was aware of them and possibly did not like alluding to them. He also did not get any special warning from his master and Vermon regarding the subject.

Meanwhile, Orb’s heartbeats were accelerating with every ‘no’ he uttered. When Jerboa recounted what he knew of the two violent incidents, Orb’s face grew paler out of shock and trepidation at his fits, which were caused by his poisoning and of which he was unaware.

Jerboa had already told him about the circumstances of his getting poisoned and the perpetrator, but no one had ever told him about his fits. Thinking about it, he now understood why the servants had shown him great care and changed the window glass in his room three days ago.

Yet, he felt troubled by the random and unintentional display of his abilities to control elements, his speaking several languages in his delirium, and his fighting those two who tried to help him. He feared their growing curiosity by what they had witnessed and hoped to see them not getting involved in his past.

Orb’s lips parted a little, and he did not know what to say, which made Jerboa worry that Orb’s knowledge of what had happened would cause another setback. Therefore, to reassure him and extinguish his fears, Jerboa said, “I can assure you, my lord, that Vermon is not angry. He didn’t approach you because he did not want his presence to affect your recovery negatively.” Jerboa waved his little hands and went on, “He really wanted you to recover and—and he asked me days ago to come visit and keep you company.”

In truth, Orb had not forgotten that Jerboa had been with him for four days, consoling him with a pat on his hand every now and then, bringing him fruit of any kind to eat, talking to him about silly things, and happily accompanying him to the willow pond. He felt grateful, but all of this had not given him a clear answer about what would become of him.

“What’s he going to do to me?” Orb murmured in great concern.

“Nothing. Don’t worry. He won’t hurt you,” Jerboa asserted.

“I’m completely blind and—useless,” Orb did not seem to have heard Jerboa’s last phrase, “I will not be as good at doing the work as— is expected of me, and he is—hard to please. He is hard to predict, too.” Orb sounded gloomy.

“What do I do now?” Orb looked in the direction of Jerboa, “Did he say anything?” he whispered as if in fear of Vermon’s overhearing him.

“No. He may be cruel and vicious in his treatment of you, but I assure you that he often feels guilty and punishes himself when he makes mistakes. I have seen his hands covered in scars and scratches countless times, and they have increased since you came,” Jerboa said openly.

Then, he hopped to Orb’s shoulder and whispered, “he tends to punish himself every time he puts the Crown Prince at a disadvantage and every time he mistreats you.”

When Jerboa sensed Orb’s great astonishment and inability to comment, he asked, “Do you want me to show you the place Vermon goes to for self-punishment?” Hopping to the other shoulder in excitement at disclosing a secret he should have kept, Jerboa whispered, “the place is not far from here.”

“I can’t leave the house, Jerboa,” Orb shook his head in sorrow.

“You can, and I’ll keep it a secret. I promise!” Jerboa whispered again.

***

Orb walked across the front courtyard of the house with Jerboa quietly standing on his shoulder. His steps were relatively quick but calculated without the help of a cane or Jerboa. When the two reached the open gate, Orb stopped for a moment.

He was hesitant about leaving the house without Vermon’s permission, for he was reluctant to have more confrontations with him. He has recently desired to maintain the peaceful state he has lived in the past few days.

Nonetheless, Jerboa convinced him that the courtyard was empty of the servants around that hour of the day, as they were busy with their chores. He also informed Orb that they would not come to bother him except at dinner time.

“The place can be reached on foot,” Jerboa confirmed.

Thus, the two passed through the front gate of the house unnoticed. Once again, Jerboa promised Orb to keep their small adventure a secret, for he feared Vermon’s wrath and harming Orb. Jerboa also felt Orb’s sincere desire to know Vermon’s secret disciplinary place. It will be a good diversion and a means of improving the young man’s mood, Jerboa beamed.

Located on the outskirts of the Arkosian capital, Vermon’s house occupied a large area of flat green land closer to the forests than the city. It overlooked a wide dirt road surrounded by rows of fir trees in high density. The right side of the road led to the forests, while the left led to the city.

Orb deeply inhaled the air, for it was pleasant and refreshing thanks to the dense vegetation and moisture of the earth. The entire estate was peaceful, and nothing breached its serenity or interrupted the sweet singing of the birds hiding among the branches.

The aromatic air intensified when Orb and Jerboa changed their course and moved deeper into the forest a few meters beyond the fir trees. Then the two reached a big hill with a low, concave slope that extended to a flat ground covered by wild shrubs of a maximum height of one meter, with thick stems covered with small, round shiny leaves and three-centimeter-long prickles.

Orb stood on top of the hill, and Jerboa proceeded to describe the place for him. Not forgetting about Orb’s interest in herbs, Jerboa jumped off Orb’s shoulder and descended the slope to bring back a tiny branch to him for examination.

Five minutes later, Jerboa returned with a twig in his hand and stood at Orb’s feet. “Be careful,” Jerboa warned as he handed it cautiously to Orb. The long pricks are sharp enough to tear and penetrate the skin, Orb thought as he turned the twig around cautiously in his hands.

Orb heard Jerboa describe what Vermon did every time he punished himself for his mistakes. “He comes here, stands where you stand, then jumps straight from the top of the hill to the bottom which is filled with these prickly flowers. Sometimes he walks amid them and hits their prickly stems with his bare hands.”

Jerboa hopped again to Orb’s shoulder and went on. “It must be painful, and it takes time for the burning sensation and itching to subside. I’ve seen Vermon come out of the place with his body covered in wounds without a single complaint, but thanks to his Uthusian energy, he can recover quickly.”

“Stupid!” Orb exhaled heavily.

“Do you think he is? Master blames him greatly for what he does to himself, but he doesn’t listen.”

“...”

Orb said nothing after that but Jerboa sensed his irritation, which he did not understand. Even after their quick return home, he noticed Orb’s furrowed eyebrows and that sort of reaction made him feel satisfied. I think seeing him irritated or angry with Vermon is better than seeing him listless. The little jerboa actually looked very pleased with himself as he led the way but kept his little achievement of changing Orb’s mood to himself.

Jerboa remained with Orb for three more days, during which he read the two books of Akinos for him. The way Jerboa read for Orb was tremendously considerate, for he read clearly and at a moderate speed. He did not skip any part and repeated other parts with patience and respect when asked.

Jerboa also made a promise, at Orb’s request, to not address him as ‘lord’ ever again, as it embarrassed Orb and made him feel uncomfortable.

“I truly cherish our friendship, so I will never make you feel sad or embarrassed about how I speak to you, Orb,” Jerboa confidently assured.

“Thank you, Jerboa,” Orb genuinely felt some relief but did not smile.

***

End of Chapter (29)

[1] See Chapter 10.