Chapter 30:

Here's Solveig!!!

Solveig the Great: I Defeated the Demon King, But If I Feel Insufficient I’ll Explode?!

The fading sun merely accentuated the uncanniness of Isolde’s room.

“We need all the information we can get.”

“B-But she’s scary…!”

“We all have to make sacrifices for the good of the kingdom.”

“But I’m small… and I saw what she can do to… you…”

Isolde’s perfect, porcelain face leaned into the light. “What did you say…?”

A terrified gasp echoed in the quiet space, followed by the frantic shaking of a head.

“Fine, Isolde! I’ll… I’ll do it!”

SOLVEIG

Week 3 should have been great on paper!

But she’s never felt so insecure… and she couldn’t put her finger on why.

This had something to do with it.

“I can’t follow?” Solveig asked.

“Nope. It’s a matter of the kingdom," Cain said. "And my other family members will not take kindly to an outsider meddling in affairs beyond her station. No offence.”

‘He's using the kingdom as an excuse because he doesn't want you there spoiling the mood.’

Nyo. Had Solveig Brain. Bad! He doesn’t think like that!

He said you’re his friend! He promised!

Saying is very different from feeling… you know that, don’t you?

Panic flaring, Solveig pivoted, her eyes scanning the room for any life raft. “Miriam? Can I accompany—?”

“Sorry, hun," Miriam interrupted. "It’s a meeting between me and my old friends from the countryside. They came down to visit. Mighty awkward if we just introduced you just like that.”

‘You're social dead weight. You'd ruin the vibe. They'd have to explain you.’

"Bobby…?"

Bobby shrank back, rubbing the back of his neck, unable to meet her gaze. “I’m… I’m in the same boat as Cain, master. Only think… twenty times worse than Cain.”

Cain let out a dry chuckle. “I never envied nobles whose families are from the capital…”

“Why don’t you… relax? Kick back for a spell. You look so ragged you’re even stressin’ me out." Miriam cut in gently, her voice patronizingly soft—was it Solveig’s interpretation, was it reality? Who knew really, at this point? "What do you do for fun? Go do that.”

“I don’t do… anything… for fun," Solveig muttered to the floorboards.

“Sorry?” she asked.

“N-Nothing!”

“Alrighty then, see you tomorrow in class!”

They were leaving. They were leaving her behind. She didn’t need to be alone right now. It was imperative…!

The door of the classroom she was in clicked shut.

‘You see now, don’t you? They are abandoning you.’

Stop it!

‘Think about it. You’ve been constantly surrounded by people the entire time you've been in Hrafen, but how many of them actually chose you? You thrust yourself into their lives. You made yourself an obligation.’

She sank against the wall.

‘You know how hard it is to make friends with people you just met. People don't just magically love a stranger.’

If she vanished tomorrow, their lives wouldn't skip a single beat.

She’d be drowning in their memory while they continued on with their lives…

‘It hurts… doesn’t it? To know that you’re less important in their lives than they are in yours. It’s pathetic…’

Wordlessly, she packed her things and left the classroom.

They were right about one thing: Solveig needed a nap.

DREAMWALKER

“Go quickly! My lackeys say Solveig headed into her dorm. Go. Go!!”

Those words uttered half an hour ago explained Dreamwalker’s current predicament.

Master has gone crazy now!

This was so wrong…!

Having to crawl through these icky sewers and crevices between the bricks of the palace… it was a step too far…

Well, maybe not for Master.

Master just sort of decided things and expected everyone to keep up.

Her Master was Isolde, so her little Compannion had to be good too.

But did being good really require crawling through actual filth?

Dreamwalker pressed on anyway, claws finding purchase in the gaps between stone, ears swiveling toward the faint murmur of a voice two walls over.

Okay, Dreamwalker. You got this. Just note down what her intentions are, her planning, and her schedule in your little notebook and just get out of here.

But when she got closer to the room.

Strange.

The moment she got close to the room, she felt something was wrong, she knew it.

The sound of cutlery stopped.

What was once the sounds of a normal, overactive girl seemed to seize activity.

Can’t be right… did she leave the room?

No, I didn’t hear the door shut or close.

Was she taking a nap?

She had to take a closer look.

Finally she reached a vent. The vent had little gaps in them that she could use to her advantage.

So quietly, quickly and with dexterity, she peeked out. Her eyes slowly crawled around, taking in every little detail.

Plus, if things got to dicey, she can round a corner and Solveig shouldn’t have an angle from where she could grab her from. She’d have to punch through solid brick walls, which should be entirely unreasonable.

Solveig… was staring into a corner.

…What?

She was doing nothing but looking into a corner of a dark room

“No…”

No what?

“No way no way no way.”

What was she so surprised about?

“It seems I have a visitor…!”

Instantly, chills sprouted through her furry skin.

“I always wondered what it’d be like to have fans in this new world… I wonder! Would it be any different from the old?”

Solveig hmph’d.

“Doubt it. Living creatures are all the same in the end.”

She tapped the wall and put her ear to the far side of the room, opposite of where she was hiding out in the vents.

Thank the gods…

“You’re not in there? Well, guess I have to try somewhere else!”

Then she started walking straight in her direction.

Crap on a stick, crap on a stick, crap on a stick—

"You know, I used to have a method." Solveig's voice carried easily through the wall now, closer with every word. "All it took was a little water. No fists required. Nothing so crude."

The Companion pressed herself flat against the brick, not daring to breathe.

"Days, sometimes. I've always thought that was the beautiful part, really. Not the water itself. The waiting. Watching someone convince themselves it might stop."

A pause. Footsteps, unhurried almost, quite dainty, really.

"And when they broke," Solveig continued, almost fond, "well. I was patient. We simply began again."

The Companion's whole body went rigid.

If she just stood very still, maybe Solveig would give up and move on. But if she started moving now, surely she'd be heard immediately, and then Isolde would...

Isolde would punish her.

That was much worse. Wasn't it? Surely that was much worse.

Dreamwalker's legs disagreed. Her legs wanted to run so badly they'd started shaking on their own.

"Alright, let's play a game. Loved this one when I was little. It went like this... Little one, little one, where do you creep?" The humming had started again. "Under the floorboards, behind the sheep."

No. No, no, no.

"Little one, little one, I'll find you soon. Before the sun trades places with the moon."

Move. She needed to move. Every instinct she had was screaming it.

"Ready, little spy?"

She couldn't move at all.

"One, two, I see your shoe."

Get out. Get out get out get out—

Her limbs simply would not cooperate, frozen solid, betraying her completely.

"Three, four, I'm at your door."

She was going to die. She was actually going to die!

"Five, six, you can't outrun—"

A shadow fell across the narrow gap in front of the vent, blotting out the last sliver of candlelight.