Spice and Wolf - Volume 15 - Chapter Pr

PROLOGUE

Farewells were too brief. Lawrence’s feelings on the matter came from experience.

No matter how anguished the moment, the actual act of farewell was over in but an instant. Like drawing the arrow of a bow, there was greater peril in gradually prolonging it out of fear. Hold your breath and go. Everyone knows how it will end.

That said, this was not so clear that Lawrence could make himself understand it. Besides, that was likely the logic of a merchant living a traveler’s life—it was always someone bidding you farewell.

Lawrence thought of such things as he slipped past the town wall inspectors, giving them a regretful wave before bidding farewell to Col and the others as they headed down the road. It occurred to him that it was quite a rarity for him to be seeing others off.

Or perhaps it was the expression worn by Holo right beside him as she waved her small hand toward Col, having seen so much travel herself. Even though there was a faint smile on her face, she seemed somehow resigned.

He realized this was the face of one who had seen humans off again and again and was entirely sick of it. A moment later, Holo stopped waving, and with a small “Mm” sound she stretched her arms to the sky.

“Now then, perhaps some wine.”

Holo spoke to no one in particular. She did this enough when she was giving Lawrence the cold shoulder, but also when she was simply feeling lonely.

There was a practical reason for entrusting Col to Le Roi the book merchant and having both of them travel with Elsa. And since he had a very practical reason, the wisewolf could only come to the logical conclusion and prepare to see Col off.

It had been Lawrence’s duty to teach Col practical things: where to send a letter if he wanted to get in touch, whom to ask for help should be find himself troubled, and so on, but Holo had been the one who conversed with him.

When the time came to replace Col’s tattered, falling-apart sandals, Holo painstakingly selected the shoes they had bought for him. She made full use of her powers as a wolf, sniffing the leather to determine its quality. The craftsman had been dumbfounded.

They had slept together the night before, too. Or perhaps not so much together, as he had slept embracing her tightly as though she were a stuffed doll. Holo’s body temperature ran hot like that of a child, and she even had a fluffy tail; Col had always seemed a bit fond of that. He’d been covered in sweat when waking up the next morning. Perhaps he had dreamed of being eaten by Holo.

In the middle of their journey, they had traveled with others for trivial reasons and had separated for reasons no less trivial. Col was yet another.

It was just that his still-small body hid an ambition within it that would make many adults laugh.

That was why Lawrence could understand him wanting to be with them to confirm Holo’s homeland was safe; he could also understand wanting to help them if push came to shove. But Lawrence believed those on a journey must faithfully walk forward toward their own objectives. It was one of the few things Lawrence could say with real pride.

When one traveled alone on a deserted trade route, they felt like they were alone in the world. However, as they crossed others on the road, one felt the world becoming a wider, more complex, more changing place.

Furthermore, the purpose of one’s journey was precious indeed.

The complexities of the world became reasons to have traveling companions so as not to stray from one’s path, or perhaps, to continue to stay together with someone they were soon to part with.

Lawrence and Holo’s journey, too, had a single objective.

That was the nature of a journey—that and also that someday surely it would end.