Hiroshi's Dream

December 25th

The tenth year of the war

Hiroshi's journal:

A week ago I received an invitation from the World Library as one of those chosen to enter it and take a book from inside. In the middle of my time within the library, I came across a book by chance that bore the name The Beast's Horn. Back then I had no idea what I was dealing with, so after reading a little of it, I took it out of curiosity. Half a day after I left the library, I was targeted by an open assassination attempt near the army headquarters. It looked like some kind of spite or hatred. But a full day later I realised that I had become the target of dangerous criminals. No, over the last five days every sort of organisation and gang has hunted me. Everyone was after this book. I read a little of it then, and understood at once. The book was a key to awakening one of the strongest beasts in this world. I leave this note in case I am killed, for anyone who cares about preventing such incidents. I ask them to be rid of it, if they have the power to do so....

Hiroshi Ayami.

The twenty-fifth of December.

Inside the army headquarters, in the office of the Commander General.

Hiroshi sat on a couch in front of the desk, a small notebook in his hand. Once he had finished going over what he had written, he closed the notebook and slipped it into his pocket, then leaned back against the couch and let his battered body rest.

The Highest Minister of the First King. On hearing such a title, anyone would picture a person of high standing, or some important commander who ran affairs from the top. That description, of course, did not suit the man sitting on the couch, wrapped in bandages that covered his body all the way to his head. In truth, telling him apart from any ordinary soldier in the room was next to impossible, for he was not the domineering or arrogant sort. Beside him sat Garth, the Commander General of the army, and with him one of the division commanders. The sharp, noisy sound of their argument made any attempt at rest a lost cause.

Hiroshi straightened up when he heard the voice of a soldier asking leave to enter. When Garth asked what the matter was, the soldier said, "The commander of the First Division, Traydor, requests permission to enter."

The moment those words reached him, Hiroshi's face darkened with anger, and he answered in Garth's place, his voice a little raised. "Tell him to leave at once. I don't want to see that scoundrel's face."

Garth signalled to the soldier to let him in, and said, "When are you going to stop behaving like a child? That stubbornness of yours about going out without an escort is what put you in this state, as you well know."

"I don't want to hear that from a man who acts like a father to his followers. I don't want to see that idiot's face right now. Just the sight of that smile of his turns my stomach."

"Really, that stings a little. I never took you for the type to envy handsome men, Minister." In a soft voice, with a light laugh, the man standing behind Hiroshi's seat spoke those words. At the sound of them, Hiroshi turned his head with a furious look. Standing behind him was a young man in his late twenties. His short black hair and his elegant smile gave no hint that he knew the first thing about war. And yet that handsome young man was the commander of the First Division of the King's army, the man known as the hero of the war. Hiroshi answered him as he turned his gaze back to the front.

"You call yourself handsome. Have you no shame? And why did you come in anyway? Didn't I order you to wait outside?"

Traydor hugged his arms, shivering.

"There's no chance I'm staying out there in this cold."

Garth sighed and sat down on his chair. "Of all the times, why did you pick this one to show up?"

"Ooh, Mr Garth, it has been a long while. Have you kept well? In any case, it's a rare thing to find the Highest Minister in a place like this. I hear they've been coming after you these last few days. Don't tell me you've come here to hide."

"And here it starts." Garth said it with a hand pressed to his head, bowing it a little.

Meanwhile a look of disgust rose over Hiroshi's face. He was already on his feet in front of Traydor, his fist clenched to keep himself from striking that sly face. He answered him.

"It isn't anything worth the worry of a lowlife like you. But what is this? Are you trying to mock the Highest Minister?"

Traydor stepped back a little, laughing as he spoke.

"No, no, I was only worried about our esteemed Minister. I came all this way from the western lands to see how you were."

"Heh. I haven't sunk low enough yet for someone like you to fret over me. Perhaps you should worry about yourself instead. What are you doing away from your post on the front lines? Do you have any idea how much harm you cause by wandering about like this?"

Hiroshi brought his hand down hard on Garth's table as he went on.

"Damn it, what is the point of the strongest commander? Are you nothing but a clown? Why is it that you can't push forward even a little, after all these years? Can't you make yourself the least bit useful?"

"Calm yourself a little, Mr Hiroshi. I only came to collect my usual letters. I wasn't running from my responsibilities. And besides, don't you think you're aiming these words at the wrong man? I am already giving it everything I have, but we cannot fight forever. We have no reason to fight, and yet fight we do. My followers, and the rest of the soldiers, everyone on the front lines suffers from fear, exhaustion and dread. Never mind the scarce supplies and the endless hunger. Do you understand the state of the army in cold like this? But because they trust their king, they fight. They trust that fighting for his sake is the right choice, and so not one of them falls back. They trust that one day the king will fight for them and bring this war to an end."

Hiroshi laughed a little and answered him with scorn.

"What fine words, coming from you. Since when was it the king's part to fight? Or does his court expect him to take up arms himself and shield them? That truly is amusing. What use is an army that can't protect its king, or even itself?"

"Because everyone knows he has the power to stop this war. And still he does nothing but watch. I won't pretend I don't understand what runs through his mind. But what about you, Hiroshi? Are you still chasing that dream of yours?"

The sharp look on Hiroshi's face grew worse with every word.

"I want a peaceful world. A man with no power and no gift for leading, and he comes out with words like that. Don't you think you're too old for such dreams?"

In that instant Hiroshi drew his sword and laid it against Traydor's neck. He said nothing. His face just then showed not the faintest trace of hesitation. His single eye sank into a pitch-black darkness as he pressed the blade into the soft skin of Traydor's throat.

Silence settled over the room, and no one dared try to stop Hiroshi. They knew perfectly well that he held none of the qualities of ministers or men of high standing, but they knew just as well that he never hesitated to kill anyone he judged to be of no use.

Hiroshi let out a sigh, wiped the blood from his sword and returned it to its sheath. Then he said, "Garth, I'm going out for a short walk. I won't go far, so there's no need for an escort. And I don't want to see this man's face again when I get back."

Garth tried to stop him. "Wait, Mr Hiroshi. You know how dangerous things are outside. You need to calm down a little."

Hiroshi's shout shook the whole room.

"Garth!!! That's an order."

He carried on his way, leaving Garth behind him with nothing to answer but, "Yes, sir."

· · ·
Traydor let out a long breath and threw himself onto the chair behind him.

"Good grief. I honestly thought I was going to die this time."

Garth replied, "Whenever you or Haizaki turn up, it always ends like this. You came for your usual letters, didn't you? Here, take them and get out of my sight before he comes back and kills the lot of us."

Garth pulled three letters from his drawer and tossed them at Traydor's face. Traydor gathered them up and read the name of the sender.

"Right, I almost forgot. A week ago, in the city of Auralia, one of my men, one of those responsible for carrying the letters, was killed. From what I heard, they said his head was cut off in the middle of the road without a single trace left behind. Do you know exactly what happened?"

"Ah, I heard about it from Haizaki when he handed in his resignation. Some little girl tracked down the culprit with no trouble at all."

"A girl! What did she look like?"

"And how would I know that? But he did mention her name. I think it was something like Wendy."