Chapter 859 - 869 - Wish

Chapter 859: Chapter 869 - Wish

Seran took the lead again as soon as everyone had crossed the wall.

He moved through the estate with an ease that made Mirelle increasingly suspicious.

The Duke’s residence covered an enormous stretch of land, with several separate buildings connected by stone paths, covered walkways, gardens, and courtyards.

Even the servants’ quarters were larger than some homes in the city they had passed earlier.

Seran barely hesitated.

He waited behind a line of shrubs until two servants crossed one of the paths, then led everyone beneath a covered walkway and through a narrow garden where tall hedges blocked them from the main residence.

After the third turn, he glanced back at Lucien.

"You seemed very excited about climbing that wall."

Lucien’s attention remained on the faint resonance deeper inside the estate.

"It is fun experiencing new things."

Auren stared at the back of his head.

"Getting arrested should not count as a new experience."

Seran waved the concern away.

"Relax. I know where the guards usually pass."

"Usually?"

Auren sounded even less reassured.

Aurelia covered a smile.

Lucien continued following.

The resonance strengthened every few dozen steps. It was no longer difficult to distinguish from the sounds around him. Something inside the estate seemed to pull at that strange part of his perception, giving him the same quiet certainty he had felt before finding Seran and Aurelia in the city.

Tavian had become unusually silent.

Lucien glanced back once and found him studying the buildings instead of the guards.

The Duke’s estate had been built far more carefully than most structures in their village.

Stone supported the lower floors while heavy timber framed the upper sections. Decorative brackets reinforced projecting roofs. Copper drainage channels ran beneath carved eaves, and some of the gates used hinges Tavian had clearly never seen before.

Mirelle noticed him staring.

"Country bumpkin."

Tavian immediately looked at her.

"You were staring at merchant signs all morning."

"Those are useful."

"So are hinges."

Mirelle smiled.

Tavian seemed to realize he had defended the dignity of hinges with complete seriousness and stopped speaking.

Lucien turned away before either of them involved him.

Seran’s confidence proved justified.

They crossed another garden without encountering anyone. A servant passed close enough that Lucien could hear the keys hanging from his waist, yet the hedge between them concealed the entire group.

Lucien gradually understood why security seemed lighter here than around the main entrance.

They had entered the residential side of the estate.

The walls were meant to keep outsiders away, while most guards concentrated around gates, reception halls, carriage entrances, and the buildings where the Duke conducted official business.

Nobody expected half a dozen young people to climb over a secluded wall and wander through the family gardens.

The resonance suddenly grew clearer.

Lucien stopped.

Seran noticed and turned around.

"What?"

Lucien looked upward.

A separate wing stood beyond a courtyard lined with old trees. The upper floor had several wide windows facing the garden. Most were closed.

One was open.

A light curtain shifted gently behind it.

The sound came from there.

Seran followed Lucien’s gaze.

Then he smiled.

"We’re here."

Everyone stared at the window.

Auren looked from the window to Seran.

"You cannot possibly mean that."

Seran was already walking toward one of the trees.

The branches reached close enough to the upper floor that the answer became obvious.

Mirelle closed her eyes.

"I should have stayed with Uncle Luke."

"You say that now," Seran replied.

Aurelia followed him toward the tree with the calm resignation of someone who had gone through this exact routine before.

Lucien did not wait.

The resonance was coming directly from that room.

Seran climbed first, moving along a thick branch toward the open window. Lucien followed closely enough that Seran glanced back once, apparently concerned that Lucien might overtake him again.

They reached the ledge.

Seran leaned inside.

The teasing expression disappeared from his face.

His voice softened.

"Roger?"

Lucien looked past him.

A young man sat on the bed near the window.

He seemed to have been staring outside before their arrival. A book lay open across his lap, though his eyes had drifted far beyond its pages.

His body was thin beneath a loose sleeping robe. His skin held an unhealthy pallor, and dark circles rested beneath his eyes. Even sitting upright appeared to require more effort than it should have.

He turned when Seran spoke.

Surprise crossed his face, then his gaze moved toward Lucien.

Lucien froze.

The face was younger, softer, and far more fragile.

He still knew it.

"Deadman..."

The word escaped before Lucien could stop it.

The young man’s expression fell.

Seran immediately turned.

"Do not call him that. He is sick, not dead."

Lucien recovered from his shock.

"I’m sorry. That was my mistake."

The young man lowered his gaze for a moment before smiling weakly.

"Brother Seran, he is not entirely wrong."

Seran’s expression tightened.

The young man continued before he could object.

"I spend most days in this bed. Sometimes I feel like a dead man who has simply forgotten to stop breathing."

Aurelia had reached the window by then.

Her face filled with concern when she saw him.

"Roger."

The young man’s smile became more genuine.

"Sister Aurelia."

He looked behind them and finally noticed the small procession waiting in the tree.

"You brought many people this time."

Seran climbed into the room.

"I thought you might be tired of seeing the same walls, so I brought new people to bother you."

Roger laughed quietly.

The sound ended in a short cough.

Aurelia entered next.

Lucien followed, and the others gradually climbed through the window after them. Auren was the last one inside and immediately looked back outside as though expecting the Duke’s guards to appear beneath the tree.

Roger watched them with growing amusement.

Lucien studied him more carefully.

The resemblance was undeniable.

This was Deadman.

The Deadman Lucien knew in the future always carried the exhaustion of someone who had lived far too long and had become thoroughly tired of doing so.

Roger Edevane looked exhausted for an entirely different reason.

Life was something he desperately wanted.

His body simply refused to give him enough of it.

Seran introduced everyone.

Roger listened carefully, repeating names once as though making sure he remembered them. When Seran finally introduced Lucien, Roger’s eyes lingered on him with mild curiosity.

"I assume there is a reason he called me Deadman."

Seran glanced at Lucien.

Lucien remained perfectly calm.

"I thought you resembled someone."

"Someone named Deadman?"

Lucien considered the question.

"Something like that."

Roger laughed again.

He seemed surprisingly accepting of six strangers climbing through his bedroom window.

Then again, anyone who treated Seran as a brother had probably developed unusual standards for normal behavior.

Seran walked toward a chair near the bed and sat.

"We haven’t visited in a long time."

Roger nodded.

"I thought the caravan had finally gone too far away."

The room became quieter.

Aurelia lowered her gaze.

Seran’s smile weakened.

Roger noticed.

His expression changed.

"What happened?"

Seran hesitated.

Lucien understood immediately.

Roger did not know about the caravan yet.

Aurelia quietly touched Seran’s shoulder.

"Later," she said.

Roger looked between them and seemed to understand enough to stop asking.

Seran recovered his usual expression and gestured toward everyone.

"We came here to give you better stories first."

Roger brightened.

Lucien caught the wording.

"Stories?"

Roger scratched his cheek.

"I ask Brother Seran to tell me about the places he visits."

Seran leaned back.

"He asks for everything. Cities, villages, mountains, strange merchants, roadside arguments, bad inns, good food, terrible food, performances, people we meet. If I leave out a detail, he complains."

Roger smiled.

"I like reading too."

His hand rested on the open book across his lap.

"Stories are easier."

Lucien looked at him.

Roger continued quietly.

"I cannot travel very far. Sometimes I cannot even leave this room. When Brother Seran tells me about another place, I can imagine being there."

His smile grew almost embarrassed.

"I suppose it feels like borrowing someone else’s life for a little while."

Lucien stopped moving.

Something about those words struck deeper than he expected.

Roger looked toward the window.

"I can be a traveler when he tells me about the roads. I can be a performer when he tells me about the stage. When I read stories about soldiers, I can imagine holding a sword."

He laughed softly.

"It is childish."

Lucien stared at him.

A sudden realization struck him.

No.

He should have realized this sooner.

He looked at Roger.

"Brother Roger, what do you want most?"

Roger blinked.

Seran turned toward Lucien.

"That came out of nowhere."

Lucien ignored him.

Roger seemed to take the question seriously.

He leaned back against the pillows and thought for a while.

When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet.

"I want to live many lives."

Lucien’s eyes sharpened.

Roger continued.

"I want to live the lives from the stories. I want to be a hero once. I want to swing a sword at an enemy and know what it feels like to win. I want to repair something with my own hands. I want to travel until I forget what this room looks like."

His eyes moved toward the books beside his bed.

"I want to learn things. I want to become different people and experience what they experienced."

He smiled faintly.

"If I could live many lives, perhaps one of them would be healthy."

Lucien said nothing.

His thoughts moved rapidly.

He turned toward Seran.

"What about you?"

Seran frowned.

"What about me?"

"Your greatest wish."

Seran stared at him.

"Why are we suddenly doing this?"

"Just answer."

Seran looked toward Aurelia.

She seemed curious now too.

After a moment, Seran shrugged.

"I want to become the greatest performer alive."

Lucien waited.

Seran continued with increasing enthusiasm.

"I want to become so convincing that nobody knows when I am performing. I want to change my voice, posture, expression, everything. If I pretend to be someone else, I want people who know that person to believe me."

Lucien stared at him.

"So you want to become the greatest liar in the world."

Seran opened his mouth, then stopped.

Aurelia laughed.

"That is not what I said."

"It is exactly what you said."

Seran looked offended.

Lucien had already turned toward Aurelia.

She understood the question without being asked.

Her smile gradually faded.

"I would like to see what is going to happen before it happens."

Seran’s expression changed.

Aurelia looked down at their joined hands.

"If I could see the future, even a little, I would know which roads to avoid. I would know when danger was coming."

Her fingers tightened around Seran’s.

"Maybe the next time something terrible happens, I could stop it."

Seran said nothing.

He simply held her hand more firmly.

Lucien knew what memory had created that wish.

He looked toward Tavian.

The blacksmith apprentice had been listening with growing confusion.

Tavian eventually shrugged.

"I want the things I make to stop breaking."

Lucien blinked.

Tavian continued.

"I spend days fixing tools that break again because the metal is bad, the wood splits, or someone uses them like an idiot."

Auren looked offended.

Tavian ignored him.

"If I make something properly, I want it to stay strong."

Lucien’s heart began beating faster.

He turned toward Mirelle.

She narrowed her eyes.

"You are being strange."

"Answer."

Mirelle thought for a moment.

"I want wealth that does not disappear every time I spend it."

Seran laughed.

Mirelle looked at him.

"I am serious. You work for months, earn money, buy what you need, and suddenly half of it is gone. I would like to gather wealth without watching it diminish every time I use some."

Lucien stared at her.

Then he looked toward Auren.

Auren had already begun looking uncomfortable.

"I suppose you want mine too."

Lucien nodded.

Auren sighed.

"I want traveling to stop being such a nuisance."

Tavian laughed.

Auren ignored him.

"I want to reach places quickly without exhausting the horses. No broken wheels, no flooded roads, no spending half a day going around a hill because someone built the road badly."

He thought about it.

"If I could go somewhere once and then always know the easiest way back, that would be perfect."

Lucien went completely still.

The room continued around him.

Someone shifted near the window.

A carriage rolled somewhere beyond the estate walls.

Leaves moved outside.

Lucien heard none of it clearly.

He remembered their future abilities.

Tavian’s power to reinforce what he claimed until fragile materials became unyielding.

Mirelle’s strange prosperity, where what she possessed refused to truly diminish and value accumulated around her.

Auren’s ability to anchor locations and return across impossible distances.

Aurelia’s divination.

Seran’s impossible talent for becoming whoever he needed to be.

Then Lucien looked at Roger.

Many lives. Different roles. Different experiences.

The coincidence was too precise.

Their wishes had become their powers.

Lucien felt a chill move across his skin.

The strange sound had led young Lucien toward these people long before any of them possessed anything supernatural.

Now he was discovering that even the abilities they would receive in another age reflected desires they already carried here.

Something connected the two.

Something had remembered.

Roger watched him curiously.

"You look as if someone told you the ending of a story."

Lucien slowly looked toward him.

Maybe someone had.

He simply did not understand the story yet.