ACT 3
“What... is this...?”
Rífa shuddered in shock as she saw the state of the Holy Capital of Glaðsheimr laid out before her.
She had loved waking up before sunrise and seeing the city bathed in the red light of the rising sun.
While she had rarely actually stepped out into the city itself, she still loved Glaðsheimr very much.
With her weak constitution and odd appearance, it was an irreplaceable place of refuge. Being the master of Yggdrasil’s largest city had been a core pillar of her self-image.
But now... it had been thoroughly destroyed.
Many sections of the great walls that Glaðsheimr’s residents were—quite rightfully—very proud of had crumbled as a result of the quake. Nearly half of the houses in the city had also collapsed. There was no sign of the beautiful Glaðsheimr that she so loved.
“I couldn’t believe it when I first saw it, either,” Yuuto, standing next to her, said with a pained expression.
He had spent most of the night dealing with this emergency. The fatigue he was feeling right now was obvious to anyone who looked at him.
“Given the circumstances, I’m afraid the marriage will have to wait. I had hoped to hold it by the new year.”
“Th-That’s hardly worth worrying about now! M-More importantly, i-is this what you were referring to...?”
“Yes, it seems the worst is coming to pass.”
“Th-Then we need to evacuate!”
“Even if we returned to Steel Clan territory, the ships there are still under construction. There’s nothing that can be done just yet.”
“...”
Rífa fell silent as Yuuto continued to stare at the city with a hard expression. She could tell that he was extremely anxious.
He let out a long breath in an attempt to calm himself.
“Our first priority is to provide places where people can find warmth, or else we’ll have residents freezing to death. It needn’t be the whole palace, but I’d like to open a part of Valaskjálf Palace to the people.”
“Y-Yes, that is a good idea. I have no objection... but the noble courtiers are all likely to kick up a fuss about it.”
They were, after all, people who valued themselves on their pedigree above all else. To them, the Valaskjálf Palace—and its restrictions upon who could enter—was like some sort of holy site. It was easy to imagine that even in an emergency, they’d fiercely object to the notion of letting in the common rabble.
“It pains me to admit this, but... while I may be þjóðann, I have no actual power here. I don’t have the authority to force them to submit and listen to us...”
Rífa slumped her shoulders, letting out a frustrated murmur.
She had wanted to avoid admitting that if it had been possible to. If this wasn’t such an extraordinary emergency, she might have tried to explain it away somehow. She found it embarrassing and humiliating to admit her lack of power to Yuuto, who was so ably fulfilling his role as a ruler.
“Oh, that won’t be a problem. So long as we can use the þjóðann’s consent as justification for our actions, then we can handle the rest.”
“...You certainly are something else.”
Rífa narrowed her eyes and let out a self-deprecating chuckle. He made what she couldn’t manage sound so easy.
“I envy your ability and confidence as a ruler.”
Rífa knew well that this was hardly the time for such comments, but she couldn’t help but say it aloud.
She knew better than anyone else that she was merely a figurehead. That was largely due to the fact that Hárbarth had restrained her ability to rule, but even then it was painful to have her helplessness put on such a clear display.
By contrast, Yuuto was absolutely magnificent.
Even in a situation this dire, he’d recovered quickly—rapidly and precisely issuing orders, getting people to move where he needed them. He easily broke down the walls thrown up by the old ways and replaced them with new, better traditions. He was the ideal ruler—the sort she had dreamed of being but had given up on becoming.
“Honestly, the job is just one pain in the ass after another,” he said, casually dismissing Rífa’s praise. She understood well that Yuuto had his own burdens.
Just in the past few hours, he had taken direct command, working through the night to prevent panic and save lives—and certainly, the burden of being responsible for hundreds of thousands of lives weighed heavily on him.
She would probably find herself being crushed by that weight, but he simply grit his teeth and bore it.
Despite standing as the highest authority in all of Yggdrasil as þjóðann, Rífa had yet to accomplish anything for her people.
Even now, all she could do was stand and watch.
“I’ve never felt as powerless as I have today...” Rífa muttered to herself as she slumped her shoulders.
She and the others had recently made their way to one of the still-standing wings of the Valaskjálf Palace. They couldn’t just stand outside under the winter sky, after all.
After having the carpenters check the rooms, she and the pregnant Mitsuki had moved to one of the rooms cleared for occupation.
“I’d always thought, even without justification, that I could fulfill my duties as a ruler if only Hárbarth were gone. But in reality? During this emergency I’ve left everything to Lord Yuuto and could only just stand around in an anxious daze... I’m ashamed of myself.”
“W-Well, even though he doesn’t look like it, Yuu-kun is, evidently, a really impressive person, so it’s probably best not to compare yourself to him.”
Mitsuki tried to console the depressed Rífa, though she had rather little success.
“There is no comparison. Even the idea of it is ludicrous. I wasn’t able to think of a single thing that I could do to help. Nothing came to mind, nothing at all...”
Whilst growing up, Rífa had been educated on politics by her tutor. She had done very well in those studies.
Because of that, she had believed she would be a capable ruler, but when she was actually put in a position to do something, she had frozen.
She’d had the knowledge, but she had no faith in whether that knowledge was right. The fear of what might happen if her instructions or proposals were wrong kept her from acting.
“Well, I don’t think there’s anything you can do about that. Hárbarth had kept you from governing all this time, so to suddenly rise up and take charge effectively during an emergency isn’t realistic whatsoever.”
“I’m told that in his first battle, Lord Yuuto faced a force five times his number and easily defeated them.”
“I keep telling you! You can’t compare yourself to that. Besides, he uses all sorts of cheats.”
His wife, too, was something else, given that she was able to dismiss the future þjóðann so handily, and then proceed to reduce the immense achievements of the ascendant reginarch of the great Steel Clan as little more than “that.”
Ordinarily, Rífa would be the first to notice something like that, but she was too caught up in her own misery to see it.
“Knowledge from the future, was it? Even so, that is merely a tool. It still requires great skill from the individual to apply it properly.”
Rífa, too, had something special of her own: the title and authority of þjóðann, as well as the physical abilities and magical prowess that came from her twin runes.
Even when keeping her weak constitution in mind, she still had more than enough power to make a difference. The fact that—even with all these gifts—she couldn’t do anything to help seemed, to her, to be an indictment of her ability as a ruler.
“It’s not like Yuu-kun was always good at this stuff. When he first started, he ran into constant failures. I remember listening to him vent about it all the time.”
“Hmm, so even Lord Yuuto has his own experiences with that? I find that rather hard to believe,” Rífa said with a touch of—no... with a lot of skepticism as she furrowed her brow.
She couldn’t imagine how such a capable individual could possibly fail—let alone fail repeatedly.
“It’s true, trust me. Where I come from, there’s a saying that goes ‘failure is the mother of success.’ If you build up enough experience, while you might not be as good as Yuu-kun, I’m sure that you’ll be able to do plenty of great things with time.”
“Experience... you say?”
It was true that she didn’t have nearly enough of that. At the very least, as things stood, she’d remain as a figurehead—doing nothing and accomplishing nothing. She couldn’t stand the thought of that.
Could experience help her? She wasn’t sure. She might still fail.
But even if that was true, she wanted to stop giving up before she tried, and to stop blaming herself for her lack of ability.
The next morning, Rífa made her way to Yuuto’s office and asked as quickly as she threw open the door, “Lord Yuuto, I’d like to do something for my people. Is there anything I can do to help?”
Yuuto, meanwhile, looked at her, his jaw slack with surprise.
Around him was an impressive cast of characters—generals of the Steel Clan, Fagrahvél, and the Sword Clan’s Maidens of the Waves.
Evidently they were in the midst of a meeting.
“...Erm, a-apologies. I’ll come back later...”
Even Rífa grasped instantly that she’d misread the situation.
She had been encouraged by her conversation with Mitsuki and had been champing at the bit to find some way to do more for her people, but there was no way that the leaders wouldn’t be busy at a time like this. Now wasn’t the time to throw around her whims.
She felt a flush of embarrassment, honestly wanting to go and curl up into a ball somewhere.
“Oh, no. Your timing’s great, actually.”
As Rífa tried to turn and leave the room, Yuuto called to keep her there. She felt her hopes rise at the possibility that he’d have something for her to do, but...
“I’d like to hand food out to the people, but our current supplies won’t be enough. I’d like your permission to open up the palace stores.”
“...Do as you wish.”
Rífa spat out her approval without even bothering to hide her sulk.
This wasn’t what she wanted. She was just nodding along to Yuuto’s ideas. This wasn’t any different than when she was a figurehead for Hárbarth.
“Is something wrong?” Yuuto asked, sensing Rífa’s mood.
A closer look at him showed heavy bags under his eyes. It appeared that he’d been working since the night before without any rest.
This only served to strengthen her conviction about needing to do something more.
“Let me do something. I don’t want to just be approving your proposals. I want to do something meaningful for my people.”
“Oh! Such compassion, Lady Rífa! I, Fagrahvél, am moved beyond words!”
The one who responded wasn’t Yuuto, but rather Rífa’s milk-sister, Fagrahvél.
She also appeared to be very tired.
Though she clearly hadn’t fully recovered from her use of Gjallarhorn in the battle against the Steel Clan, she was pushing herself because of the current situation.
For someone like her to talk about compassion, Rífa couldn’t help but feel as though she was being somewhat condescending, even though she understood that Fagrahvél herself didn’t mean anything of the sort.
“Your health issues have to be kept in mind, though. We will work all the harder on your behalf, so please focus on achieving happiness with Lord Yuuto.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, but...”
Rífa pursed her lips in displeasure.
She knew that Fagrahvél was sincerely concerned about her well-being. While there was a part of her that was happy about that, there was also frustration that Fagrahvél didn’t understand what she was trying to do.
“Please, I want to do something. It doesn’t matter how small. I don’t want to be the only one doing nothing when all of you are working so hard...”
There was no feeling more miserable. It reminded her of how powerless she was. She was feeling more and more left out. She would soon end up blaming herself and would trap herself in a negative feedback loop if nothing changed.
“Ah, well, I understand how you feel.”
It was, in the end, Yuuto who expressed his understanding. Given that he was the very model of the capable individual, that surprised her.
“You understand this?”
“Of course. It really is hard—not being able to do anything. Not to mention the self-loathing. When I first came to Yggdrasil, I was desperate to find things that I could do. I mean, they even called me Sköll, the Devourer of Blessings.”
“Mitsuki mentioned as much. So you really did have a time like that.”
“Hey, wait, what’s she been telling you?!”
Yuuto furrowed his brow and puffed out his cheeks, but it was clear from looking at his expression that he wasn’t actually angry.
It seemed like he was trying to lighten the mood.
“Well, I’ll check just how much of my shameful past has leaked out later. Anyway, right now we can use all the help we can get. We’ll have you work as well, Lady Rífa.”
“Truly?! Use me as you wish! I’ll do anything!”
Rífa approached Yuuto, holding up her fists eagerly. She would bear any hardship and accomplish the task given to her.
Her crimson eyes burned red with determination.
“Mm, so this is it.”
As she glanced up at the door to the banquet hall, Rífa swallowed.
This was the part of the Valaskjálf Palace that Yuuto had chosen to convert into a hospital, and Rífa had been assigned to console and cheer up the people within.
She was there for moral support.
The sick and injured, quite understandably, tended to be unhappy or suffer from low morale. If their spirits remained low, their recoveries often lagged, and some even stopped recovering entirely, which was why visits from figures who are popular with the masses could often help improve their moods and aid in their recoveries as a result.
“It’s more important than you’d think,” was Yuuto’s argument.
When things are really hard to bear—when situations are truly dire—even the smallest bit of kindness would be appreciated and would help to lift spirits.
“’Tis a job I’m well suited for.”
Although it conflicted with her desire to be seen as her own person rather than as the þjóðann, given that she was born into the role, Rífa also wanted to be able to do something that only she, as the þjóðann, could accomplish.
This, too, was a sincere desire.
The þjóðann, as a divine personage, was greatly revered by the populace. There was no doubt that they’d rejoice in her visit.
With that confidence in hand, Rífa opened the door, and...
“Oh my...”
As she came face to face with the reality of what was in front of her, her conviction wavered. The color drained from her face, and she began to feel dizzy.
The room was filled with the smell of blood and the groans of the injured. Within was the true harshness of the world, far more raw than anything she could find in a book.
Rífa had lived in an elegant and clean world that was far removed from this sort of carnage.
This raw and unfiltered reality hit her hard.
“Let’s get to work, Your Majesty!”
On the other hand, Ephelia, Mitsuki’s lady-in-waiting, seemed entirely unfazed. She was rolling up her sleeves and preparing to get to work.
The pregnant Mitsuki had sent Ephelia in her stead, namely so that Rífa wouldn’t have to go through this alone.
She had interacted with Ephelia during her stay in Iárnviðr, and since she had spent a lot of time talking with Mitsuki in Sigtuna, she had interacted with her then as well. They were pretty well acquainted and her presence was reassuring.
“Y-Your Majesty?!”
Someone nearby who had heard Ephelia’s statement raised their voice in surprise. In response to that, the eyes of everyone in the hall turned to look at Rífa.
“O-Oh my! Her skin and hair truly are snow-white, she is every bit as beautiful as they say...”
“No, she’s even more breathtaking.”
“Not only did she open the palace for us, but to bless us with this visit in person...”
“Oh thank you, oh thank you!”
Some among them began to weep; others clasped their hands in front of them and offered prayers. Rífa was given a clear reminder of the fact that the populace viewed the þjóðann as a living god.
“Mm. I-I was sorry to hear of your suffering. You are my people, my children. Please allow me to help treat your wounds.”
A cheer loud enough to shake the walls of the hall erupted around Rífa. A mere glance at their faces showed clearly the joy they were feeling.
Rífa was filled with happiness and a sense of fulfillment from the display, but things were never quite that easy in the real world.
“Mm, this feels a bit loose...”
“Oh, you have to do it this way.”
Rífa tilted her head quizzically as she wrapped a patient’s bandage, to which Ephelia responded by demonstrating the right way to wrap it.
Her movements were elegant and precise, a result of frequent practice. She had learned the skill at the vaxt founded by Yuuto and had practiced it countless times.
“L-Like this?”
Rífa tried to copy the movements.
“Owwwwww!”
As she did so, the patient she was attending to let out a howl of pain. Evidently she had wrapped the bandage too tightly.
“O-Oh, s-sorry.”
“Ow, a little more kindly please, Your Majesty,” the patient said tearfully. The pain seemed to have been quite bad.
Rífa had learned first aid from her tutor and thought she knew enough to help, but there was a huge gap between doing something in theory and actually performing it in practice.
With this example of her capabilities having played out in front of them, their fear overcame their reverence, and the people left Rífa’s line one by one to be treated by Ephelia instead.
It was only an hour later that Rífa was left with nothing to do and decided to leave the hall of her own accord.
“I-I can handle this, at least.”
The next task Rífa was given was to serve food out to the people. In hindsight, treating the injured was perhaps a bit too difficult of a task for her to start out with.
As a twin-runed Einherjar, Rífa was much stronger than the average person, and it was hard for her to control that strength, but this time, all she had to do was ladle soup into a bowl and hand it to the people lining up for it.
There was nothing difficult about that. Surely even she couldn’t mess this up.
“Praise be to the gods! To have Your Majesty serving out food for me... Such are the blessings of living to this old age.”
She handed a bowl filled to the brim with soup to an old man who, overcome with emotion, shook as he took it in his hands.
“I can die in peace now.”
“Don’t say that. You survived. Go and live a long life.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. You honor me beyond words.”
“Mm. Next person.”
Rífa nodded majestically and called on the next person in line. It was an extremely tall man.
Yuuto’s height was actually above average for men in Yggdrasil, but this man was at least half a head taller than he was, even. Furthermore, while Yuuto was lanky, this man had a stout bone structure and was extremely muscular.
“Oh my, you’re a large one. A soldier? No doubt you’re quite the warrior.”
“I’m a carpenter.”
“Oh. Then we need you to work harder than ever.”
“Yes! So, could you give me a large serving?”
“Mm, I was told I shouldn’t... But very well.”
Certainly, carpenters were vital to the rebuilding of the city, so surely there was no harm in giving the man a little extra.
That was what she thought at the time, but soon after...
“Your Majesty, I’m also a carpenter!”
“Your Majesty, so am I!”
“I just came back from hauling around debris.”
In the end, each person in line asked for an extra helping by coming up with some clever reason as to why they deserved it, and Rífa reluctantly obliged.
Given that it was the dead of winter, the amount of food available was limited.
Felicia had set a fixed amount that could be served out in a day. If the portion sizes weren’t maintained...
“Your Majesty, may I have some food?”
“H-Here you are.”
“Whaaat? This little?”
It went without saying that there wouldn’t be enough later down the line.
The sad gaze of the child stung.
“Um, may we have a little bit more?”
“I’d like nothing more than to do that, but...”
The plea from the woman that appeared to be the child’s mother hurt, but there was still a large line stretched out behind her. Considering that this was the last stew pot full of soup, she had to make it last.
“I’d heard you’d given larger servings to the people in front.”
“...”
With no excuses coming to mind, Rífa could do nothing but fall silent.
There are times when a ruler must dispense with sympathy and focus upon equality. She had learned that from her tutor, but she had never imagined it would be this difficult.
The people were not a monolithic entity, but individuals—each one with their own lives, free will, and emotions.
Rífa was only human, and as a woman, she was perhaps more prone to want to give in to feelings of pity and sympathy. Restraining that urge was difficult.
“Hey, the line’s backed up. If you got yours, then move on already.”
“That’s right! We’re hungry too!”
Unable to continue bearing the jeers from those behind them, the mother and child begrudgingly accepted their bowls and moved on. Their resentful looks burned themselves into Rífa’s memory and stayed with her for some time after.
“A-Are you all right, Lady Rífa?”
That night, when Rífa was resting on her bed, Fagrahvél rushed into the room in a panic. She was breathing heavily. It seemed she had run at full speed to get here.
“What is the matter, Fagrahvél?”
Rífa sluggishly sat up in bed and glared at her milk-sister.
Having all this fuss made over her when she was already in low spirits gave her a headache.
“Well, I had heard you had declined to eat tonight, and I couldn’t help but worry...”
“I felt like refraining for my own reasons. I’m not having any physical problems.”
“Is... that so? But for you to skip a meal, surely it must have been something serious.”
“I would like to know just how much you think I enjoy eating another time, but putting that aside, yes, you’re right.”
“May I ask what it was?”
“If anything, I need you to ask. It’s been circling around in my head and I feel like I just need to spit it out at someone.”
Rífa then told Fagrahvél what had happened that day. Even if she couldn’t tell anyone else, she could tell Fagrahvél. This was part of their bond as milk-sisters.
“I see. That must have been difficult.”
“No, what’s really difficult is actually governing as a patriarch, as you and Yuuto do. Compared to your burdens, mine are so petty.”
“That’s not...”
“You don’t need to humor me. I can’t even manage something as minor as... mmph!”
Rífa bit down hard on her lower lip. She had to, lest the tears start flowing.
“Lady Rífa...”
“Stop! Don’t try to reassure me!”
Noting Rífa’s state of mind, Fagrahvél had tried to embrace her, but Rífa pushed her away with both hands. She wouldn’t be able to hold back her tears if she accepted that embrace.
“The ones who were truly suffering were that mother and child, and all those who didn’t have enough to eat after.”
After being tasked with serving the food, Rífa had been surprised at just how simple the meal was.
Compared to what she ordinarily ate, while she would never say it aloud, the food seemed almost like trash, but they had all taken it as something to be appreciated, and reacted very emotionally to even small differences in serving sizes.
Of course, deep down, that was something she’d always known about. She knew full well that there were plenty of people who didn’t even have enough to eat each and every day, but even so, there was an enormous difference between having that knowledge and seeing it for herself.
It was shocking. It felt as though someone had hit her on the head with a hammer.
For them, that simple, rough food was the very thing that kept them alive.
“My mistake cost them their meal. What I need isn’t reassurance. Punishment would be far more appropriate.”
“And that is why you refused to eat your dinner?”
“Yes. If they can’t eat, then it’s hardly fair that I, the cause of their hunger, eat a full meal.”
“I see. I believe that’s a worthy decision. I, Fagrahvél, am moved by your compassion.”
“I keep telling you, you don’t need to flatter or reassure me...”
As Rífa scowled, Fagrahvél strongly shook her head.
“This is not flattery, it’s what I truly feel. To take on your peoples’ hardships as your own, that’s something that not many rulers will do.”
“This is all just self-indulgence.”
After all, Rífa skipping a meal wasn’t going to somehow feed that mother and child as a result.
Rífa had learned that the proper role of a ruler was not to engage in such sentimental and hypocritical acts, but to feed their people even if it meant acquiring that food through invasion and conquest.
She agreed with that teaching.
In the current situation, her title as þjóðann mattered little. Right now, the reality was that Rífa lacked even the power to give her people the bare minimum they needed to eat. The only thing she could feel was shame.
“You need to be patient. Everything takes experience.”
“You all say that, but gaining experience doesn’t guarantee any amount of certainty that I’d succeed in my endeavors, does it?”
While experience certainly could help, there was clearly such a thing as talent in the world.
Rífa had her twin runes that only a handful of individuals in the world possessed, while Fagrahvél’s rune, Gjallarhorn, was a powerful one known as the Rune of Kings. Even with twice as much experience as either of those two, there was no guarantee that the person with said experience would obtain comparable power.
“Yes, it’s true that not all experience will end up being of use. Even so, humans are animals that need experience to move forward.”
“Mmph.”
“In particular, experiencing failure is important. People learn most not from their successes, but from their failures.”
“That’s true even of someone like you?”
In Rífa’s eyes, Fagrahvél was the perfect big sister.
She was skilled with a sword, and was nearly without peer as a general. She was also a first-rate politician who was beloved by her personal retinue, the Maidens of the Waves, and last, but certainly not least, she could wield a decent selection of galdrs and seiðrs.
It didn’t quite make sense for Rífa that such a perfect individual would fail and learn from those failures. She had thought that Fagrahvél could do anything—and do it with ease, no less.
“Yes, recently I’d say the Battle of Vígríðr is an example of one of my failures. Father’s command was precise and as fast as lightning! I was thoroughly reminded that there was always somebody better, that there was still much for me to learn.”
“Enough to make you say that, mm.”
Fagrahvél was, without a doubt, one of the five greatest generals in all of Yggdrasil.
According to Mitsuki, even Yuuto, who had dominated her in battle, had failed repeatedly when he first started out. Yuuto himself didn’t deny it either.
“Yes. Lady Rífa, no doubt you’ve learned much from your failures today. I imagine that much of it was not to your liking.”
“That is certainly true, yes...”
“But if you build upon those failures and grow as a ruler while retaining the compassionate heart that makes you such a gentle soul, you will be remembered as a great ruler. I guarantee it.”
“...Hrmph, your guarantees hold little water. When it comes to me, you’re far too partial. Far, far too partial.”
Fagrahvél’s words had meant the world to Rífa, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit it.
She couldn’t help but offer a touch of snark in return instead, because she knew that she was so comfortable with Fagrahvél that she’d find herself indulging in her kindness if she didn’t.
“I’m afraid there’s not much I can do about that.”
Rífa couldn’t help but interject.
“Hey, at least deny it!”
Of course, she wasn’t actually angry. The moment their eyes met, they both burst out laughing.
It wasn’t that all of their problems were solved. This exchange didn’t change anything about the fact that she was still powerless.
She was afraid of failing again. She didn’t want to be the target of a cold gaze like that again.
There was a part of her that just wanted to go and hide deep within the palace somewhere.
But even then...
So long as there was one person who believed in her, she vowed to keep on trying.
Such a pity. For the glorious Holy Capital to be so utterly destroyed... Even I hadn’t expected this to occur.
Eyeing the city from above, Hárbarth was musing to himself.
His life had spanned over twice the length of the average. He had, of course, dealt with multiple earthquakes in that time, but he had no memory of anything on this scale.
Heh, no matter. Serves him right.
He had to admit, he derived great amusement from watching the Black One being forced to deal with the disaster relief without rest. He was in his current state thanks to that brat, after all.
What’s worse, he had been unable to effectively retaliate.
A brat that had lived only a quarter of his years had thoroughly destroyed both his confidence and his plans.
He wouldn’t have been able to bear it if that boy didn’t suffer just a little bit.
Mm... Still, this may be a perfect opportunity...
With a large number of personnel sent off to deal with the aftermath of the earthquake, the security in the palace had been relaxed. He felt the confusion would increase his chances of successfully assassinating Yuuto.
Perhaps I’ll set a few things in motion.
Cackling to himself, Hárbarth melted back into the shadows.
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