――The warp of the wood, the tension of the bowstring, the movement of the wind.
Sensing these, she quietly and smoothly opened her stance.
Rather than exerting force, she focused her consciousness on something flowing unimpeded through every corner of her body.
A power without substance, called magical power, which Crishet perceived as an ‘ethereal, wavering thing.’
Controlling her limbs with magical power without moving her muscles, her body was like a marionette.
She imitated the first-rate hunters from her memory, internalizing their movements into her own body.
Bodily strain or stiffness were foreign to her, who routinely performed physical manipulation through magical power.
Always controlling her entire body exactly as she envisioned, it was always her ideal self in command.
She had learned such techniques when she was two, or perhaps three.
In Crishet’s perception, whose exact number of days since birth was uncertain, it was around that age.
Crishet’s body was immature and weak for her age, but by manipulating magical power in such a way, she could generate strength close to that of an adult—no, even greater.
This was why she could easily handle a bow that would be somewhat difficult for a child.
The sounds and the rustling of grass.
Capturing them within a drawn-out, leisurely passage of time, she quietly held her breath.
A moment of silence—then the bowstring sang, slicing through the air.
The released arrow was swallowed by the thicket, followed by the dull thud of a life being taken.
Certain of a hit without needing to see, she approached the rabbit, pierced through the neck, and dispassionately watched it thrash and struggle.
Then, grabbing its legs, she headed to the river, held it upside down, and slit its throat with a small knife.
Blood, pumped from its heart, gushed out vigorously, splattering and staining the ground.
“Mm, this is good,” she murmured.
Swift bloodletting was the secret to delicious meat—otherwise, the meat would develop an unpleasant odor.
Crishet quickly took out a cord, tied its legs to a tree, and hung it upside down, its head towards the ground.
Gradually, its convulsions lessened, and it stopped moving.
As she vaguely watched life ebb away, she heard a sound from behind her.
“…Crishet, what are you doing?”
“Tou-sama, Ojiisama.”
Two men emerged from the thicket.
The tall, slender man with a beard around his mouth was Golka.
A first-rate hunter who led the other hunters despite his youth, and Crishet’s adoptive father.
The other was Grace’s father—Gahlen, who was Crishet’s grandfather.
A village hero who had risen to the rank of centurion after seven military campaigns.
Perhaps due to his unkemptly grown white hair and such experiences, he exuded an air that somewhat kept others at bay, but he doted on Crishet and was a kindly old man who often looked after her.
She, too, was very fond of this grandfather.
Hunters in this village usually operated in pairs, and Golka was no exception, hunting with Gahlen, who was Grace’s father and his own master.
The two, who had apparently bagged game today as well, were carrying a wild boar tied to a pole.
Three arrows were lodged in it; they must have had quite a struggle.
It was well-fleshed and could be called a large catch.
“Ehehe, I was practicing my archery. I thought if Crishet could hunt too, it would make things easier for Tou-sama and the others.”
She announced, as if to say it was just as it looked.
It was a correct, yet not entirely accurate, explanation.
Crishet had wanted some meat for their somewhat lacking stew, but she didn’t want to be perceived as gluttonous.
This was, strictly speaking, archery practice. She wanted to frame it as having caught the rabbit incidentally.
Crishet was self-centered, intensely narcissistic, and held extremely high ideals.
She kept her appearance neat and clean, meticulously observed etiquette in front of others, and spared no effort in upholding what were considered virtues in the village.
At the root of this was an almost arrogant conviction that she ought to be superior to others, and a strong aesthetic sense.
To such a girl, being dominated by animalistic desires or emotions was nothing short of proof of foolishness.
Naturally, she believed she should present a rational image, unswayed by such feelings—for Crishet, who thought this way, her uncontrollable desire for food was truly unseemly, a fatal flaw hindering her ideal self, a source of shame.
Of course, Crishet was human too—she sometimes thought, ‘Isn’t this much okay?’ or ‘It can’t be helped if I can’t endure it.’
But, should it be called a tragedy?
Her mind, which seemed to have forgotten to tighten some crucial screw essential to being human, simultaneously possessed a strong objectivity towards herself.
This strong objectivity Crishet possessed could not forgive such trivial flaws in herself.
“Um, then, a rabbit just happened to pass by… so I thought I’d try aiming for it. And… and, well, Tou-sama and the others must be tired from hunting every day, so, like, I thought it might be good to have a lot of meat once in a while, and, um…”
—Crishet wasn’t being a glutton; she was doing her best for everyone.
She was by no means being swayed by her appetite; this was for her parents, who always treated her so well.
Although she explained this with her chest puffed out, she was aware that she was doing something unseemly, and as a result, what emerged were faltering words that didn’t transcend the realm of mere excuses.
“A-anyway, Crishet wanted to help Tou-sama and the others!”
But even so, for her, this was a perfect theoretical armament.
She was full of confidence that with this, she wouldn’t be thought of as a glutton.
“Kuku, alright, alright. What a filial, good girl.”
Her grandfather Gahlen gave a wry smile at Crishet.
Naturally, such excuses wouldn’t fool the adults; they simply let her be because her attempts at making excuses were amusing.
She didn’t quite understand the meaning of the wry smiles directed at her each time she made such excuses.
“Ehehe, yes!”
Utterly oblivious to this, Crishet smiled, believing her excuse had worked perfectly.
Gahlen chuckled at his granddaughter’s usual antics, then picked up and examined the handmade bow Crishet had propped up—but the other, her father Golka, was frozen, looking somewhat perplexed.
He seemed to ponder for a moment, then asked, in a hesitant, almost trepidatious tone.
“…That rabbit, Crishet, did you…?”
“Yes. I’m in the middle of bleeding it now.”
At those words, he frowned and stared at Crishet.
“Who taught you? I don’t recall teaching you…”
“…? Crishet was shown by Tou-sama several times.”
As Crishet tilted her head, Golka muttered, “No way…”
He had indeed shown Crishet how he shot an arrow a few times.
But that was all.
He had absolutely no intention of teaching her how to use it.
To begin with, Crishet was a girl and thus could not become a hunter.
“I learned by watching and imitating, so I might not be as good as Tou-sama, but Crishet can now shoot straight where I aim.”
He glanced at the rabbit’s corpse, cleanly pierced through the neck with a single arrow.
For Golka, a first-rate hunter, there was no need to see her shoot.
From the unhesitatingly, deeply embedded arrow and its position, he could understand her skill.
That was precisely why there was turmoil in his heart.
“…Just from watching a few times.”
Golka had known for some time that Crishet possessed a terrifying learning ability.
However, seeing his own skills, cultivated over many years, so easily mastered right before his eyes, a slight fear arose within him.
Crishet had probably seared the image of ‘the bow shown to her those few times’ firmly into her mind and, unbeknownst to him, made it her own.
Golka’s foot position, breathing, bow stance—she had memorized, understood, and grasped the essentials of it all perfectly after seeing it only a few times.
What she possessed was an abnormal degree of intelligence and talent.
He thought he knew, yet he couldn’t wipe away the unease that had arisen in his heart.
Glancing at the pensive Golka, Gahlen spoke.
“Crishet, did you make this bow yourself?”
“Yes. It’s a little poorly made, but it was enough to shoot a rabbit.”
“You made a slight mistake in choosing the wood. It’s shaved cleanly, but you need to look closely at the knots and grain. I’ll teach you next time.”
“Ehehe… Thank you very much.”
Crishet smiled as her head was patted, and then turned her purple eyes towards Golka.
“…Is something wrong, Tou-sama?”
“Ah, no… Crishet, you haven’t gone deep into the forest, have you?”
“No, just as you told me. The rabbit was very close to here.”
“There are legends that magical beasts appear in the depths of the forest. You’re probably tired of hearing the same thing over and over, but please be very careful.”
“Yes, Tou-sama.”
Nodding obediently, Crishet took out her knife as if thinking, ‘Is it about time now?’ and began to slit open the rabbit’s belly and limbs.
She attempted to skin it with an air as if she might start humming, but when it didn’t peel off easily, she furrowed her brow.
“…Huh?”
“Crishet, your method is a little off. When you do it like that, you start from here.”
Gahlen smiled gently and helped her, easily skinning the rabbit to show her how.
“…I see.”
Crishet watched it with an impressed look.
—Golka noticed that her eyes held a somewhat inorganic glint, like those of a snake or some other such creature.
Crishet’s beautiful, lovely, large purple eyes sometimes seemed terrifying to Golka.
Whenever she observed something, Crishet invariably perceived things with a certain detachment.
This was also the case when she witnessed a corpse from a fatal fall, something that would make even a grown man recoil.
She remembered looking at the mangled corpse with those same eyes.
Despite it being a friend of the same age—Crishet would observe calmly, with eyes that could even be described as somewhat lifeless.
When Crishet realized she was being watched, she tilted her head and looked back at Golka.
Then, her expression shifted as if she’d understood something, and she said with a slight blush,
“It looked easy, but Crishet is still far from good enough…”
To be able to do it was a matter of course—Crishet held herself to an exceedingly high standard.
Completely misinterpreting Golka’s gaze, Crishet, thinking he was observing her foolish mistake, averted her eyes in embarrassment.
The expression of a girl as lovely as a fairy.
Startled by this age-appropriate display, Golka shook his head, thinking, that’s not it at all.
“…I was like that when I was a kid too. Being able to do that much is plenty.”
“Ah, when Golka was a lad, he was so jumpy he’d end up trying to peel off his own skin. In that respect, Crishet has nerves of steel.”
—Nerves of steel.
No, that’s not the issue here, Golka thought.
Even now, accustomed as he was to butchering, removing the organs of a beast that had been alive moments before was unpleasant, and looking at grotesque innards was by no means a comfortable experience.
Yet Crishet calmly removed the organs, transforming the rabbit into meat.
Could it be that Crishet didn’t feel the kind of fear that ordinary people did?
Golka had been thinking so.
“Tousama, may Crishet help with butchering the boar too?”
“…Ah, you may. Wash your hands first. Bloodstains under your nails become harder to remove if left for too long.”
“Yes!”
Crishet pattered over to the river and dipped her hands in, wiping off the blood.
He watched her and shook his head.
No matter what, she was his beloved daughter, and it was a parent’s role to accept her, even if she had parts that were different from others.
Golka thought this and felt ashamed of the fear he had felt.
Both Golka and Grace knew that she was a little different from other people.
Intelligent and clear-headed, she was a genius at whatever she did, quickly grasping the essentials.
On the other hand, she was poor at conversation, understanding words only literally, and sometimes even trivial exchanges would misalign.
Was it a side effect of being too intelligent, or was there another reason?
He knew that many villagers found her unsettling because of these traits.
The two of them had discussed countless times what to do, sometimes even arguing, as they strove to help such a daughter fit in with others.
Understanding both her good and bad points, the two of them loved and raised her as their own daughter.
For the two of them, who had not been blessed with children, Crishet was a gift from God.
Even after noticing her peculiarities, they still thought so.
Above all, Golka and Grace’s lives had become much more joyful since Crishet came along.
—So that she, who was a little different from others, could find her way and live.
Golka thought this, and as he gazed at his beloved daughter, he renewed his resolve.
Like the mined rock salt, the fruits of the hunt were communal property of the village.
They were first entrusted to the women at the processing station, divided, aged, and then processed into preserved foods like dried meat and salted meat—however, if everything became communal property, hunters would lose their motivation.
Therefore, hunters who caught prey were given the right to a portion of the meat, and it was generally permitted for them to take home the fatty parts, which were difficult to process into preserved food.
Boar becomes more flavorful if hung and aged for several days.
They would reap this benefit three days later, but small game like rabbits and birds were an exception.
Large game like deer and boar were considered prey that only hunters could hunt, but rabbits and birds were seen as game that even children could target without danger, and for these, it was permitted to take them home as they were.
Since it was tacitly forbidden among hunters to enter the forest specifically to target small game, these were treated strictly as incidental catches from a hunt.
Thus, many hunters would deliver even these to the processing station as communal property if they caught them, and hunters who only targeted small game were looked down upon, so this rule rarely became an overt issue.
If Crishet, a child who wasn’t even a hunter, had caught it, then naturally the rabbit belonged to their household. Crishet brought the rabbit home looking satisfied, and that day, half of the single rabbit went into a soup, and the other half was roasted.
Compared to their usual meals, it was quite a luxurious feast.
The plump rabbit was well-marbled; when stewed, its juices melted into the broth, and when roasted, its fat dripped down.
They invited Gahlen-san as well, and the four of them surrounded the table, with Crishet, as expected, being the center of conversation.
“…It’s prey you hunted yourself. Must be delicious, eh?”
“Yes, Ojiisama. The last time I ate rabbit was at the festival before… It’s been a while, so this rabbit is truly delicious.”
Biting into the rabbit thigh, just the right amount of fat spread through her mouth.
Seasoned with salt and herbs, the simply roasted meat danced on her tongue, proclaiming its exquisite deliciousness.
What filled her mind was euphoria.
Taking a sip of the soup, it too was superb.
The umami of the meat had melted into it, and the rich, thick soup paired wonderfully with bread.
“I see, I’ll give you mine too.”
“Eh, um… Y-yes…”
Receiving the meat from Gahlen-san with some hesitation, her cheeks relaxed into a smile.
Gahlen-san smiled and looked at Golka.
“Golka, it seems she hasn’t eaten it in a long time. You should bring home a rabbit once in a while and let her eat. Crishet is a growing girl, after all.”
“Ah, Crishet didn’t mean it like that…”
“A child shouldn’t hold back. When I was a kid, I’d say I was hungry until I got smacked.”
Having her head rustled, Crishet narrowed her eyes happily.
Grace laughed merrily, and Golka nodded, looking a little thoughtful.
“Well, it’s true. Grace and I are both light eaters, so I didn’t realize… but perhaps it wasn’t enough for Crishet.”
“That’s right… Crishet may not look it, but she’s quite the gourmand. When the merchants come, her eyes sparkle as she looks at the fish and cheese.”
“…Eh?”
Crishet, who had been eagerly stuffing meat and bread into her mouth, just enough not to be vulgar, froze at those words, her eyes widening.
Then, her eyes darted around, and she declared,
“Th-that’s not true, Crishet isn’t a gourmand…”
At those words, the three of them burst out laughing.
“What’s this, Crishet? Did you think we didn’t know?”
“Fufu, you’re just too cute. …Everyone in the village knows that Crishet, despite appearances, is actually a huge gourmand, you know?”
Crishet’s pale cheeks instantly flushed crimson, and she shrank back in shame.
“N-no, it’s not true… Th-that’s not…!”
She had always intended to hide it, always preparing a pretext when satisfying her desires.
She had always layered what she, Crishet, considered perfect pretexts and excuses—and yet, this flaw of hers, which she thought she had hidden so well, was known throughout the village.
What Crishet felt was astonishment.
“Even the aunties in the village secretly talk about ‘Crishet-chan the Gourmand,’ you know.”
—It was an assessment completely opposite to Crishet’s ideal.
Her eyes welled up from the sheer shame, and her snow-white skin turned as red as an apple.
The way she groaned “Uuu,” enduring her embarrassment, was just like any other girl her age.
The three of them started laughing again.
“She’s usually such a composed young lady, but, well, you know.”
“It’s probably because she’s usually like that, that it’s even more so.”
Golka replied to Grace’s words, and Gahlen-san, with a faint smile, opened his mouth.
“You shouldn’t hold back with your parents, Crishet. So what if you’re a bit of a glutton? Crishet works hard every day, so no one will complain.”
“Th-that’s not the issue…”
The main reason for her large appetite was the magical power she routinely expended.
The very bodies of those who possessed magical power above a certain level underwent a transformation.
Food taken into their bodies would be immediately broken down and converted into magical power.
In recent years, as she grew, her consumption of magical power had also increased, to the point where she hardly even excreted anymore.
This was why her appetite was disproportionate to her appearance, and it couldn’t be helped, but such a constitution was primarily inherited through bloodlines, and no such lineage existed in this village.
Therefore, no one in the village realized the reason for her appetite, which had become a small tragedy for her.
“Grace, too, when she was a child, didn’t help with work and was quite the selfish brat. You’re a hard worker, yet you hold back too much. It’s okay to be more honest and say you want what you want, or to feed you when you’re hungry.”
“Oh, Father!”
“N-no, that’s not it, Crishet really isn’t a gourmand…”
Unwilling to admit it, Crishet shook her head repeatedly and looked at Grace as if seeking help.
Grace looked at Crishet and chuckled, her shoulders shaking.
“Fufu, you’re so stubborn. Here, we won’t tease you anymore, so eat a lot.”
Grace, who had finished her meal first, patted Crishet’s back and laughed.
Crishet, her face flushed with embarrassment, remained silent and reluctantly sipped her soup.
“Honestly, everyone’s teasing her, so now Crishet’s sulking, isn’t she?”
“You’re the one who started it, though.”
“Was I?”
Grace said, laughing cheerfully.
“Well, putting that aside, it’s really true… She cleans the house every day, and cooks every day. She gathers wild greens in the forest, and today she even brought back a rabbit… There’s nothing left for me to do. You can play a little more freely, you know?”
Crishet, her face bright red, answered with teary eyes.
“U-um… Crishet enjoys cleaning, and, c-cooking too!”
She wanted to emphasize that she did it because she enjoyed cooking, not because she was a glutton.
But, seeing their gazes, she had a feeling that pretense wouldn’t work anymore.
Crishet puffed out her cheeks in dissatisfaction, and Grace poked them.
“Now, now, don’t sulk. Hehe.”
“Ugh…”
A silly phyuu sound echoed, and Crishet groaned, embarrassed.
Laughter echoed inside the house.
And so, once dinner was over, they took the dishes into the forest.
She headed with Grace to a river a short way in.
Along with washing the dishes, they performed their twice-daily ritual: bathing.
The babbling of a river surrounded by trees.
The light of the waning moon sparkled on the flowing water, and the naked girl’s beautiful skin was polished by her mother’s hands.
Her silver hair was dyed the color of the moon, and her skin was like fresh snow.
Grace, also naked, spoke as if sighing while cleansing her body.
“You’re truly beautiful, like a little faerie.”
“Have I become beautiful?”
Without a shred of shyness, she spread her arms and swayed.
Crishet, who had been sulking during dinner, was now in high spirits after her bath.
Crishet was often described as a quiet girl who didn’t show much emotion, but in front of Grace, her joys, anger, sorrows, and pleasures changed rapidly.
Smiling at Crishet’s childlike appearance, Grace nodded.
“Yes, very much so. Isn’t the Crishet right now the most beautiful girl in the world? Like a princess.”
“Ehehe.”
Crishet clung to Grace as if seeking affection, pressing her face into her bosom.
Grace, while stroking her, spread a cloth on the grass and sat down, her feet still dipped in the river.
Then, seating Crishet on her lap, she began to wipe the moisture from her silver hair before her body could get cold.
And then, she suddenly looked up at the sky and smiled.
“Look, today’s moon is just like Crishet’s name, a very beautiful ‘crishet’.”
“…?”
Crishet also looked up at the sky and tilted her head.
Grace announced cheerfully.
“A waning, crescent moon—in an old tongue, it’s called ‘crishet’. It was in the sky when Golka proposed to me… It was so beautiful that I decided to give my daughter such a name.”
“Is that so?”
“…You don’t seem very interested, do you?”
Grace said, as if sulking, and cupped Crishet’s cheeks.
“So that you too can one day feel my greatest happiness. This is a kind of charm for that.”
“A charm, you say?”
“That’s right. So that, just as I met Golka, Crishet too will one day meet someone like that. Hehe, it might still be too early, though.”
Crishet tilted her head, looking troubled, and gazed at the sky.
The moon in the sky was just a moon; waning, its light was dim today.
That was all Crishet could understand—she didn’t even grasp the meaning of ‘beautiful’.
The moon doesn’t get dirty; it’s just a matter of whether it’s cloudy or clear.
That’s why she tilted her head, unable to understand Grace’s words or the meaning of a ‘charm’.
“Mmm, it seems a little difficult for Crishet…”
“You don’t need to think too hard about it. …Well, someday, the day will surely come when Crishet understands too.”
“Is that so?” To Crishet, who looked increasingly troubled, Grace chuckled, lifted her into her arms, and stood up.
She wiped her skin dry and nodded in satisfaction.
“Are you going training tomorrow?”
“Yes. Pel also said he wants me to train him.”
“You’re quite the big sister now. …I won’t stop you, but make sure neither of you gets hurt. It would be a shame if such a beautiful body got scarred.”
“Kaa-sama, you don’t have to tell Crishet that every time—”
“I’m worried. Here, raise your arms.”
As told, Crishet raised her arms, and Grace slipped a long robe over her from above, handed her undergarments, and kissed her forehead.
“That’s what parents are like. You’ll have to bear with it.”
“Muu, yes…”
Crishet pouted but waited for Grace to get dressed before linking arms with her.
Then they intertwined their fingers and smiled at each other without saying anything.
Their unchanging daily life, though with minor dissatisfactions, was peaceful.
Such a life, though simple, was rich, and she had no doubts about the days spent loved by her parents.
Crishet vaguely thought that such days would continue forever.
“Well, shall we head back? It’s pitiful to leave Golka all alone for too long.”
“Yes.”
However, for her, that was the last ordinary day she would spend with her family in this village.