Your Name

I give Tyffeon a sidelong glance, though as I am aware of what he’s about to say, my eyes soon drift to the village beneath. Distant echoes of voices spread by the wind.

“According to the tradition, every child is entrusted with a name at birth. A name which carries a meaning. Depending on the latter and its rarity, the effect of the benediction varies.”

“And what is yours?”

“It is a derivative of the word meaning typhoon.”

    Hearing the words from his own lips brings a smile to my face. Silly? Silly.

    Tyffeon extends his hand, his fingers brushing the air as it begins to twirl in his palm. It hisses, and the wind’s strength sends strands of our hair floating in the rear. This, until Tyffeon clenches his fist, allowing the wind to dissipate.

“Derivatives of existing words are more common, as the more people share the same name, the less powerful it is. The original names are typically bestowed to important persons and, thus, are closely regulated.”

“So even receiving a name may become a crime?” I chime in.

“It may. That said, the most powerful ones are offered by the Saintesses themselves. They give names in the language of the world they are from.”

    Names. It is thanks to this benediction that the Hero has originally enough potential to become a saviour. Named Ken, which means sword in my native language, he can summon a holy sword. Its attribute depends of the season the Hero is born in. The latter being a feature the player can choose.

“Huum.” I feign awe, lost in the contemplation of Rathard.

    A moment of silence follows. The coolness of the breeze gives me goosebumps. It’s not unpleasant. Not after the heat of all the gathered people and flames dancing below. A distant, yet present warmth… definitely one I am more likely to enjoy.

“You never decently introduced yourself. What is your name?”

“Ehh-”

    Astonished, I stare at Tyffeon.

    Did he just ask my name? I’ve probably misheard. It has to be it, it has to be… simply because the Saintess has no name. I mean… No one ever asks her this, and so neither did I give her one. She’s just the Saintess. She’s just meant to be there, to be sweet, and to die. The only thing she leaves behind is a grim prophecy. No family, no backstory.

“Can’t you even answer such a simple question?” Tyffeon asks, raising an eyebrow.

“A bug..?”

    This has to be a bug.

“Your. Name. What. Is. It?” He repeats, articulating more than necessary, on purpose.

“Kkh- Amako! My name is Amako.”

     Ahh. Crap-

“Amako…” Tyffeon repeats. “What does this mean?”

    He annoyed me in such a way that I gave him my name. Though… is this right?

“Errr… Well, it means child of the rain.” I end up replying, brushing a finger against my cheek.

    Who am I right now?

“Mmm, that’s a mighty name. Given to someone like you, though…”

“Thank- What-is-this-supposed-to-mean.”

“Is not the rain supposed to be translucent?”

“Spill the tea.” I prompt, crossing my arms, expecting some sort of lovely attempt at revenge for torturing him.

    He raises an eyebrow.

“You act in a way that doesn’t fit your rank. You’re insolent, unbearable, and sometimes you’re just speaking nonsense. Anything but translucent.”

“Ohh, I’m surprised. To be honest,” I add with a thoughtful expression, “I expected something more… hmm… biting? Are you tired or something?”

    A sigh.

“Yes. Tired of spending my time watching you.”

    And saying so, Tyffeon leans back, laying down against the stone.

“Heheh, how romantic.”

    As I turn my head to glance at him with a smug smile, awaiting a flustered reaction, I notice his closed eyes. No reaction. Not even a frown?!

    After a moment of simple, blatant silence, I conclude Tyffeon is asleep.

    Of course, I won’t miss such a golden opportunity! Bold of you to fall asleep in my presence, Tyffeon. Bold of you.

    Discreetly, making sure to avoid the slightest noise, I lean against the palm of my hands, crawling until I’m able to sit closer to him. Poking his cheek first, I make sure he’s asleep for obvious safety reasons.

“Good.”

    With a naughty smile, I gingerly place his head on my knees.

    The slight pressure, the warmth slowly sipping through the fabric of my dress… Heh, I don’t think I regret being reincarnated in Kingdoms of Sin.

    Reaching out my hand near his head, I tentatively brush my fingers through his long pastel green strands of hair. How strange it is to be able to see, to feel someone who, recently yet, was merely words on a page.

    Thoughtful, I begin to braid a handful of Tyffeon’s hair. One strand above, this one underneath…

“What a sweet irony.” I whisper. “The one I like the most will be the last to betray me. Well, I suppose that the story is on repeat.” I pause. “Did you know, Tyffeon? There are only two types of beings. The ones who betray and the ones who are betrayed. That is how my world worked. If I knew it sooner, I would not have lost my time making efforts.”

    For a moment, I fall silent. Letting my thoughts go astray.

“I’m a mess, am I not? The Saintess is no more. Tell me,… should I give this world a chance?”

    Echoes of voices call the end of my respite.

“Honourable Saintess? Honourable Saintess!”

    I glance at the silhouettes of guards coming this way. I guess they spent quite a moment looking for me, seeing how they pant.

“Honourable Saintess! Blessed be the spirits, we finally found you. Please, come with us, the King wishes to exchange a few words with you.”

“Oh, here we are.”

    Cautiously laying Tyffeon’s head back on the stone, I stand up.

“Of course, I’ll come with you. Lead the way.”

    Following them, I let behind me a merry Daoine Sidhe who just gained a splendid, long braid on the side of his face.

***

“Why is Tyffeon the one supposed to protect her?” One of the guards escorting me whispers as we reach the place I left earlier.

“Who knows? The King seems to have taken a liking to him.” The other one replies. “He’s not that bad with a sword, though.”

“But his Lignum magic is so common… I heard he can barely manipulate mere leaves.”

“Hey, maybe he’ll stand a chance by sending some at his opponent’s eyes!”

    And both of them begin to sneer.

    Annoyed, I glare back at them. Dare to repeat. Just dare.

    Thankfully for them, they soon notice me and fall silent. Unless it is the King’s presence which made them recoil? Hmpf.

“Honourable Saintess, the festival reaches its end. Though, before that, since you spent a whole day in Rathard, I would like to hear what you think of my kingdom. Please, spread your Stars’ Crosser wisdom.”

    For a moment, I consider the question. That discussion… It’s at that moment the Saintess committed an unfortunate mistake which led her to her doom.

    It would be easy to let things happen the way they were written. Awfully easy.

    Though…

“What is your name?” The words echo in my mind.

    A grin escapes me. ‘Guess it’s too late not to feel involved. Heeh… I really wanted to avoid it.

“Well, from the little I saw so far,” I begin, placing my hand against my heart, “I’d say Tír-nan-cnocc is quite the vibrant kingdom, Your Highness. I am spellbound by Rathard and its charming residents.”

    That’s not completely false, is it? And it’s enough to make the King smile, even though his gaze remain kind of distant. At what are his pale green eyes truly staring?..

“I am delighted to hear you say this. Seeing how you seem to enjoy it, how about settling in Rathard?”

    A smile.

    A lie.

    And now? How do I answer that… If the choice was mine to make, I would prefer to stay in this kingdom. After all, that’s where he lives. But… That would also mean getting betrothed to Erlkœnig.

    Ughh… even though he’s not – far from it – the kindest character of Kingdoms of Sin, it still feels a bit displeasing to deceive him.

“Well,.. I can’t imagine another kingdom being able to marvel me that much, but I’ll honour first my Saintess’s duties and visit the other kingdoms before making my choice.”

    Silence.

    Why does he not react… Have I not been convincing enough? My fingers grip the fabric of my dress, unable not to avert my gaze for a fleeting second.

“I see. That is a wise answer, as I should have expected from you. Very well, for now let’s resume the festivities. We still have to properly conclude Sowilo!”

    His gaze leaving me to search those of his entourage, the latter doesn’t fail to express his eagerness.

    It is only at this moment that I feel relieved enough to stop fiddling with my dress. That should be sufficient to buy me some time. That’s all I am asking for,.. just some time to let me think about it.

***

    At the very end of the festival, the King is asked to extinguish the last flames.

    Holding a long handle ended by a silver bell, he’s walking into the spiral, heading to the torches.

    Everyone is gathered all around the area to follow the ending ceremony. Crowds are definitely not my favourite thing, but I’ll bear it.

    Raising his curious tool, the King proceeds to smother the first flame. At this very moment, I feel someone gripping my wrist.

    Barely do I have the time to widen my eyes before I am dragged away from the crowd.