Chapter 56
Hieldieta and Chloria
As Brody continued to show interest, Teddy’s eyes lit up and he asked eagerly:
“Have you ever heard a northern legend? Should I tell you one?”
This simple, loyal, and cheerful young man seemed to have a fondness for tales of the north.
Why of all things does it have to be a northern legend?
Aidan unconsciously twisted his face into a grimace.
He was about to say something to stop Teddy, but Brody’s response cut him off.
“Sure. It’ll set the mood.”
Brody actively encouraged Teddy.
It wasn’t that he needed to hear the story—he already knew it. But he didn’t want to sit awkwardly with Aidan now that he was wide awake. Besides, Teddy had brought his instrument; he had likely come here intending to sing a ballad anyway.
The soldiers, who had hesitated to approach because of Aidan’s harsh expression, began to take seats nearby, drawn by the warmer atmosphere Brody had created.
If the lady doesn’t stop it, it must be fine! That was the unspoken thought drifting among them.
Perhaps it was because Brody had placed herself between them and Aidan—it felt as if one layer of ice had cracked in the walls piled up around him.
Waiting until he had enough of an audience, Teddy placed his practiced hands over a wooden instrument, slightly larger than a ukulele, with eleven strings.
When he plucked the strings, a sound reminiscent of a guitar yet older in tone mingled with the chill of the winter night air.
The crackling fire seemed to support the rhythm of his music.
Then Teddy began to sing, his voice clearer and more melodious than expected:
It began with a warm breeze from the south.
A graceful deer spirit with soft fur and beautiful antlers,
Cloria, stepping lightly as if in a dream across the ice.
Her warm breath disturbed the slumber of cold sighs.
Even as the stiff chill roared, the deer only smiled.
Who would have known?
That a smile held the power to melt solitude.
Thus began—
The spring of winter.
Cloria showed Hieldieta,
who did not know the presence of a heart,
where to find it.
Hieldieta discovered the joy of his heartbeat joined with hers.
To his beloved he gave eternal ice crystals,
and her antlers never dried of their shimmering blue dew.
They were days of happiness—
Until the day Cloria’s heart froze still,
and Hieldieta’s heart melted into flowing grief.
Hieldieta, weeping icy tears, tried to drive her away on the northern wind.
But she clutched his cold heart.
I love you. I won’t leave you alone. Don’t let me go.
Her antlers shook, scattering jewels of frost that rang with a crystalline note,
blue and cold.
And her deep, gentle eyes fluttered closed.
Foolish deer, foolish ice.
Ah, if only they had never met.
The deer belonged among southern blossoms.
The ice, within the forests of the northern glacier.
That was the order of things.
Foolish are those who defy fate.
What is love, if not a fevered madness
that makes even one’s enemy kneel?
In his swiftest regret, Hieldieta climbed to Kalihiel,
seeking the hand of the Sun Spirit,
the one who melts all.
Southward, into the warmth.
But even the swiftest regret was too late.
The Sun Spirit only shook his head.
Still, the Ice Spirit clung to him—
even as his hands melted, even as his tears dissolved,
even if all he was turned into mist.
He clutched the burning sun.
I will do anything. Please, anything.
The Sun Spirit, moved by such desperate coldness, agreed.
He carried Cloria southward.
But Cloria weakly shook her head.
Don’t send me away. Let me stay by your side.
Her eyes begged him.
Yet Hieldieta turned away.
Why did he let her see his back at the very end?
In Medician, the City of the Sun,
burning heat covered the frozen deer.
The eternal ice crystals on her antlers melted one by one,
the icy daggers upon her body fading away.
But her frozen heart—could not be thawed.
Just as it began to soften,
her body, unable to endure the heat,
turned to ash and scattered.
What returned to Hieldieta was not her radiant smile,
but cold, gray ashes of a death notice.
The Ice Spirit reached out with a hollow face,
as if to gather even the tiniest specks.
But can one grasp the years? Can one grasp time? Can one defy fate?
From his heart’s roar burst shards of ice.
The whole continent fell into winter.
The whole world was covered in his sorrow.
Yet remember—
a promise is weighty.
Guard the north. Guard the empire.
The title of Knight of the Sun Empire—
fire’s shackles, filled with ice.
The Ice Spirit could not even go mad.
Hieldieta’s rage and grief poured into the north.
Eternal winter annihilated wicked monsters.
Irony of life—
his pain brought peace to the north,
and glory to the empire.
All things praised the Sun Spirit, enthroning him as king.
Now, raise your eyes to the farthest north.
The ill-fated spirit who guarded the north with love.
Silent and still beneath eternal ice,
where Hieldieta sleeps,
lies an unending winter.
Who is it that gained all?
Who is it that lost all?
The warriors of the north lift their eyes to the farthest north,
with hearts of ice that guard the world.
“The warriors of the north lift their eyes to the farthest north, with hearts of ice that guard the world.”
Ding-didi-ding-ding.
The mournful notes rang, and the low voices of warriors joined in chorus.
Faces flickering in the firelight seemed strangely solemn.
Brody savored the lyrics and sank into thought.
As expected, it’s a little different from the version I know.
What she had read in books was the Empire’s legend.
Truth may be one, but interpretations are many. Perspective changes with the storyteller.
How audacious. “Who gained all? Who lost all?”—such defiance, such grievance toward the Empire.
That fragile bond forced upon them through a knight’s oath… Perhaps that was the true essence of the tension between the Empire and the north. Pride in protecting the Empire and its people from monsters had kept the north upright. Without it, they might have turned away long ago.
Brody recalled the Empire’s version:
After Cloria froze to death, Hieldieta went mad with grief.
Yes, the monsters of the north were subdued, but the entire world nearly froze.
Unable to watch people weep before lifeless plants, the Sun Spirit confronted him and forced him down.
Hieldieta knelt, and the Sun Spirit demanded a grave promise:
“I seek to build an empire where humans may live in peace. You will be its knight. Return to your homeland. Guard the north. Guard the empire.”
It was a charge that gave him reason to live while also benefiting the world.
And so the legend ended, praising that judgment as wise and gracious.
As Brody was thinking this, Teddy’s lute gave a trembling final note that faded into the air.
After a moment of silence, Brody began to clap softly with a “Wow,” and applause followed among the knights.
“Kid, when did you pick up that trick?”
“Not bad at all. Ha, perfect for a pub over drinks.”
“Hehe, thank you, thank you.”
Basking in their response, Teddy rose and bowed deeply, showing his full colors as a petite bard.
“Ah, it’s been a while since I sang it. Still gets me choked up.”
He hugged his lute and sat again.
“Though he’s a hero of the north, he gained nothing. They say even now he sleeps in deep slumber so he won’t have to remember Cloria. It’s a bitter tale.”
Teddy sighed sentimentally.
“He shouldn’t have defied fate in love in the first place. The ending was doomed from the start.”
One of the knights—whom Teddy called “big brother”—stroked his chin.
Crackle. For a moment, a spark flared from the firewood Aidan had been tending, then vanished.
The others instinctively glanced at the flicker, then drifted back into thought.
A knight shrugged and added:
“Still, it’s true that love’s defiance brought peace to mankind. Ironic, that it forged a new fate.”
Another knight burst out harshly:
“Yeah, the north sacrificed so the Empire could live in peace. Damn it. Not anymore, though.”
At once, a companion nudged him with an elbow.
“Hey.”
Judging by his glance, he was worried about how “the one from the capital”—Brody—might feel.
Sensing the mood, Brody gave a faint smile.
It meant: It’s fine. I don’t mind.
Still, the mood had dimmed. To brighten it, Teddy raised his voice cheerfully:
“So, my lady, what did you think?”
To not only be dragged into focus but directly pointed out…
Brody felt uncomfortable as curious eyes turned toward her.
Even Aidan glanced sideways from the fire, as though curious about her opinion.
Reluctantly, Brody spoke:
“To be honest… it upset me a little.”
Gulp. The thick necks of the northern knights bobbed all at once.
So it is offensive to an imperial-born listener…
Why did he have to sing that story…
Well, Kalihiel was mentioned, that’s why… and the song itself is pretty…
Their eyes darted back and forth in silent exchange.
But Brody went on undeterred:
“I mean Hieldieta’s choice.”
Hieldieta’s choice? Not the Empire-bashing? Surprised, the knights listened closely again.
“He shouldn’t have forced Cloria away. She wanted to stay with him. He should have respected her will.”
Teddy pouted and joined the debate.
“But if he wanted to save her…”
“Did she ever ask to be saved?”
“Well, no… But it was his nature that doomed her, so shouldn’t he at least have tried?”
“Do you think Cloria didn’t know? No—she knew from the very start, from the moment she fell in love, what awaited them.”
“…”
“In the end, it wasn’t ice that killed her. It was fire.”
The knights scratched their chins, tilted their heads, or blinked, each showing their thoughts.
They had often seen it from Hieldieta’s side, but never from Cloria’s.
Brody kept her eyes fixed on the fire as she continued:
“If she had died differently, the ending wouldn’t be the same. Suppose she had closed her eyes at his side instead…”
“She would’ve died anyway.”
“It’s not just dying anyway. That difference is vast.”
“Because she would’ve died beside him?”
“That, yes—but more because it would have been her choice. Throughout the song, doesn’t she keep saying it? Clearly, without doubt—she wanted to stay with him.”
Aidan turned to watch her, immersed in her words. Firelight traced deep shadows across her profile, her wheat-gold hair glowing softly with orange hues.
Her lips opened again, quietly.
“Cloria chose to love Hieldieta. Until death.”
Aidan shivered.
—Awooo! Wooo-ooo-oooooh!
Everyone jumped.
Immersed in the old tale’s atmosphere, they flinched at the chilling sound.
The howls of wolves had changed. Even the seasoned northern knights bristled with goosebumps.
