Arslan Senki

The young girl was locked up in an underground cell. She sat on the cold, stone floor and cursed as hard as she could both in Parsian and Lusitanian, and then racked her brain for even more curse words.

The lamp on the wall had a faintly wavering flame that indicated that this dungeon had an external airflow. At that moment, the flames shook sharply, there was the sound of a lock clicking, and the thick cedar door swung open. The young girl raised her head back up and took up a fighting stance. She was tired and hungry, but had not lost her spirit.

Through the door entered the young man that had worn gold armor. However, he had now taken off his armor and changed into more casual attire, a cool white summer coat with blue trim framing the collar and lower lining.

In his hand, he held an earthenware plate, from which came an aroma that made her stomach growl.

"You must be hungry, right? I brought some food for you, so please eat."

"Is the food of heathens really edible?"

"What a strange thing to say."

Arslan wore a faintly serious smile.

"Didn't you Lusitanians plunder the rice, wheat and fruit that grew on Parsian land? Can you not eat food unless it was taken by force?"

"…In any case, I’m not yours to command."

While she suppressed her appetite with religious faith, her young and healthy body rebelled, and the maiden's stomach made a loud sound. The girl could not help but blush up to her ears, and she took her eyes off the teenager for a moment, not knowing what to say, and looking very uncomfortable. The teenager suppressed his laughter and looked at the young girl before finally saying with a persuasive tone.

"Then, think of it this way! To you, it's the enemy’s food, so if you eat this, you’d be doing us a great disservice by diminishing our supplies. Wouldn't that be a great merit for you?"

The young girl blinked and fell into contemplation for a minute, and seemed not to have a hard time convincing herself.

"Is that so? If I eat this food, you guys will be hurt by the decrease in supplies?"

"Headaches abound."

"Good, then it is my greatest pleasure to hurt you heathens."

The young lady spoke with the tone of a leader of a country declaring a war, and picked up her plate. She tried to eat with as much grace as possible, but the spoon in her hand moved faster and faster. The fragrant lamb stew was quickly stuffed into the girl's mouth. After catching her breath, the girl briefly considered expressing her gratitude. She cleared her throat and began to give her name.

"I am the trainee knight Etoile of Lusitania. My real name is Estelle, but I've thrown that name away."

"Why? If you don't mind, I'd like to hear the reason."

"Estelle is a woman's name. I am the only daughter of a knight's house, so I must become a knight so that I can inherit my family’s knighthood. If I can’t become a knight, my grandparents and attendants and the people of our lands will be disgraced."

"And that's why you joined the expeditionary force?"

The young girl nodded her head in reply to Arslan's question.

"I left my homeland as a trainee knight. If I establish merit and become a full-fledged knight, my family will be proud of me."

"But you're still so young! Probably about the age to be my younger sister, right?"

"How old are you?"

"I'll be fifteen this year."

"What month?"

"September."

"Then I'm two months older than you! It doesn't make sense to treat me like a little sister!"

The trainee knight Etoile, or the young girl Estelle, indignantly asserted this. She moved her eyes from Arslan to the empty plate, and then looked at Arslan again as if she had something to say.

"What is it?"

"I would like to reduce your food supply a little more."

"Ah, I see. Sorry, that's all the stew there is. But I have something else."

Arslan took out a cloth bag and set it out in front of Estelle. Some bread, cheese, dried apples and other things were then presented to the young girl. Picking up the cheese, the maiden suddenly asked.

"Those knights are very respectful to you, are you a person of high status?"

After a moment of hesitation, Arslan nodded, and the maiden's eyes radiated excitement.

"Have you seen Arslan, the crown prince of Pars?"

"I have."

"At the royal palace?"

"Not just in the palace. I see him any time I look in a mirror."

After blinking a few times, the young girl finally understood the meaning of Arslan's words. When her wide eyes returned to their original size, she stood the index fingers of both hands on the left and right sides of her head.

"Doesn't the heathen prince have two curved horns, a mouth that splits below the ears, and a black, pointed tail?"

"Is that so? Maybe my horns and tail will grow when I’m older."

Arslan said with a smile. Estelle dropped both hands and gazed at the teenager of the same age as her.

Perhaps there was a big difference between the customs of the court of Pars and the court of Lusitania. Although Estelle was a knight, she never talked to the King of Lusitania, but always shouted "Long live the King" with a crowd from far away. In the Kingdom of Pars, the Crown Prince himself came to the dungeon to bring food to the prisoners?

However, what she said was something else.

"I'm thirsty…"

"Of course."

Arslan handed her a canteen, and the young girl took it and brought it to her mouth. It nourished not just her body, but her heart as well.

"You are such a strange person."

"People often say that about me, but I don’t see it myself."

"Kings and princes are supposed to sit on a majestic throne. Maybe it’s because your king doesn’t act like a true king that the royal capital was taken away."

The maiden's taunt was not intended to be deeply malicious, but there was no way for Arslan to turn a deaf ear to it, and he naturally adjusted his expression.

"Let’s be clear on something. Did Pars invade Lusitania, or did Lusitania invade Pars?"

Arslan's voice was extremely steady, and that was because the teenager was attempting to suppress his anger. Estelle sensed this a little, but she couldn't help but refute it.

"It's true that the Lusitanian army invaded, but that's because your country doesn't believe in the true God. If you would stop worshiping pagan idols and evil gods and follow the true God, you would not have to shed so much blood."

"That’s nonsense!"

Arslan replied in a firm voice. The young girl continued with determination.

"It is not nonsense. We are followers of the god Yaldabaoth who act according to his will, and that is why we are fighting against the infidels."

"If it is as you say, then why did your Lusitanian army attack the Kingdom of Maryam? Aren't the people of that country believers of the god Yaldabaoth as well? They’re just like you!"

"That's… that's because the people of Maryam believe in the wrong way."

"Who told you that?"

"It was God who said it."

Arslan stared at the other.

"Did you hear God say that? Did you hear God's voice with your own ears? And even if so, how do you know that it was indeed the voice of God?"

"It was the priests…"

The young girl's voice broke off, and the other teenager's voice was even stronger.

"It is you yourselves who insult the gods. No, I'm not talking about you, I'm talking about those in power in Lusitania. They only pretend to be the voice of God in order to fulfill their own desires and ambitions."

"Shut up! Shut up!"

The young girl stood up. Tears of regret were flowing in her eyes. She was upset that her own sincerity had been rejected, and also that she could not offer a rebuttal.

"Get out! I'm not going to say anything more to you. You're the one who persuaded me to eat, I don't owe you any favors."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to accuse you."

The young girl's agitation caused Arslan to regain his composure.

After apologizing, Arslan stood up and was about to walk out when he suddenly stopped again.

"Etoile, do you know the prayers of Yaldabaoth?"

"Of course."

"Then, could you please offer a prayer for the dead tomorrow? We are burying the remains of both of our armies tomorrow, but the Lusitanians will need a prayer in Lusitanian.”

Estelle was startled, forgetting her anger for a moment. Burying the remains of the enemy?

The practice of the Lusitanian army was to leave the bodies of heretics as food for wild animals. How strange was this prince of Pars? Or, perhaps, were the Lusitanians the strange ones?

The dungeon door opened and closed again. Arslan's figure disappeared, and the sound of footsteps became further away. Seized by a sense of defeat, Etoile fell to the ground again. She knew the door was unlocked, and somehow she knew it wasn't because the prince had forgotten to lock it. Anyway, she would stay there until tomorrow's funeral! Estelle thought so, and leaned her back against the wall.