Fantasy Novel [Chiaroscuro of the Dawn] ep.22 "Chapter 3: All'isola Sacra degli Ogre! (To the Sacred Ogre Island!)"

A Trial for the Hero of Twilight

“Hey, hey, how did you follow me here! I told you to stay and watch the house!”

Scuro said this while stooping down, and Gigi and Toto clung to him desperately.

“Scuro~, I was scared~”

“Me too, Toto~”

He couldn't bring himself to scold the twins any further as they rubbed their tear-stained cheeks against him.
However, Scuro tilted his head in confusion, certain that he had been holding hands with Chiaro. He couldn't make sense of it, but it was definitely an emergency.

Trapped in the ruins of Ogre Island, a place he was visiting for the first time, in the pitch black with two small children.
The weight of responsibility as a guardian, something he had never felt before, pressed heavily on his stomach.
Chiaro must have been feeling this way all along.

Gigi blinked her wet eyes.

“Please, Scuro, we’re hungry. Ask God for some sweets.”

Scuro stroked Gigi’s red, cat-like hair and apologized, saying, “Sorry.”

“I can’t control my power, you know. Besides, even with the power of manifestation, I don’t think I can just conjure up sweets.”

He tried to laugh it off with an “aha-ha,” but the twins just puffed out their cheeks and wouldn't be swayed.
Still, careful preparation is what really counts in an adventure.

Scuro said, “Just wait,” and rummaged through his bag.
The item wrapped in oil paper was heavy, but he was glad he had brought it.

“Ta-da! Crostata! I figured sweets would be a necessity since we’d be moving around. Gigi, Toto, you can eat as much as you want as long as you leave some for Chiaro.”

This one was a luxurious treat packed with caramelized walnuts, hazelnuts, and pistachios.
He hadn't expected to be leaving for Ogre Island last night, so he had simply baked it as a snack for Chiaro, but it would surely taste even better on the road.

Scuro was huffing with pride at his masterpiece, but the twins looked away.

“We don’t want that. Michele said there are all kinds of sweets in this country.”

“Toto wants to try Zuppa Inglese. It’s a cake with fluffy sponge soaked in bright red liqueur, they say.”

“And Gigi wants to eat Zuccotto. It’s a dome-shaped cake filled with lots and lots of ricotta cheese cream. They say you sprinkle plenty of cocoa powder on top!”

The two of them looked adorable with their flushed cheeks, but Scuro felt deflated.
He felt like he did the first time he tried to bake a cake and it didn't rise.

“O-okay. I’ll try... I’ll give it a shot.”

If the shape was too complex, it would be hard to visualize, so something simple would be better.
And it’s easier to manifest something you’ve already made before.

Scuro gathered in his heart the heat of the stone oven that stung his cheeks, the sweet aroma filling the air, and the joy of successfully baking, then released it all at once from his horns.

“Wow! Scuro, that’s amazing!”

He opened his eyes timidly at their excited voices.
To his surprise, a magnificent table had appeared in the darkness that had been nothing but void just moments ago, and the plates were piled high with bite-sized round sweets.

“They’re pure white and cute~, what are these?”

Asked by Gigi, Scuro came back to his senses.

He had used the power of manifestation with his own will for the first time.
The power to heal those suffering from hunger and thirst, and to protect Michele, had finally awakened.

He rubbed his burning eyes to hide his tears and explained the sweets.

“These are Meringues. You make them by whipping egg whites mixed with sugar, scooping them with a spoon, and baking them until they’re nice and crisp. They’re light, gently sweet, and melt in your mouth.”

The twins cupped their cheeks with both hands as if they were holding treasures, and were delighted, saying how delicious they were.

“I’m glad I can use my power now...”

Scuro manifested a new image. Perhaps because the tension had left him, the wish flew out smoothly and coolly.
“Ah~!” Toto cried out in joy.

“Next up is Toto’s request, Zuppa Inglese! It’s a cake with layers of sponge and custard, soaked in a bright red, sweet liqueur. And this is...”

As Scuro pointed to an empty spot on the table, a hemispherical cake appeared.
Gigi cheered, “I love you, Scuro~!”

“Gigi’s request, Zuccotto! Inside the sponge, it’s filled with ricotta cream mixed with crushed nuts and candied orange peel.”

“Is the brown powder on top cocoa?”

“That’s right! Now, let’s eat!”

Since no one would scold them no matter how much they ate or how poorly they behaved, all three of them did exactly what they had wanted to try.
Every time they bit into a cake without using their hands or stuck their fingers into the sponge to lick the cream, smiles overflowed, and they thought, “Freedom is the best!”

With a sense of liberation he had never felt before, Scuro realized deeply that gaining power meant becoming free.

Cornmeal cake with a fun, grainy texture, adult-style egg yolk cream spiked with wine, and cheerful Cassata wrapped in green marzipan and topped with candied cherries.

Scuro brought out one sweet after another, more than they could ever eat.

“Alright, the power of manifestation is fully unlocked! It was worth coming all the way to Ogre Island. I have to join up with Chiaro quickly and tell him my power has blossomed!”

A sharp, tense atmosphere flowed into the quiet silence.
Scuro looked at the twins, feeling nervous. As usual, it was Gigi who spoke first.

“To your brother?”

“Yeah, he must be looking for me. If he finds out Gigi and Toto are here too, he’ll probably faint.”

“That’s impossible. There’s no way my brother would look for Scuro.”

“Huh? Why?” The person he asked was no longer the small, cute Gigi.
With the same fluffy red cat-like hair and eyes the color of grass after the rain, the fully grown figure looked just like an adult.

Gigi stared at her own palms and chuckled, “That’s nice.”

“In this form, I can say all the things I can never put into words even though I’m always thinking them.
Small children see more than adults think they do; they shouldn't be underestimated. You were that kind of kid too, weren't you? How old were you when you figured out about Michele and the Pope?”

Scuro recoiled involuntarily.
Along with fear, a sticky, unpleasant sensation flowed through the pit of his stomach.

“Hey, Scuro. There’s no way the Hero of Dawn is looking for you. Because you’re not a child of God, just a pathetic beggar.
And you can only be a beggar inside this box of illusions. Once you leave here, you’ll go right back to being a helpless, restricted child.”

Gigi leaned in slightly to meet Scuro’s eyes and grinned.

“So, just stay here forever. Chiaro will handle things on the outside just fine.”

“That... there’s no way I can just leave it to him.”

The words he managed to say were drowned out by an adult man’s laughter.

“You’re slow on the uptake. He’s the Hero of Dawn. The light everyone waits for and celebrates. Compared to that, you’re darkness, a useless, cursed child who can only live in hiding. Know your place.”

“My brother... he told me darkness is kind! He said Scuro is kind!”

“What ‘darkness is kind,’ you spoiled brat. You were created by killing three thousand innocent Ogres and many babies, so there’s nothing kind about your birth.”

That was the one thing he didn't want to hear.
Ever since he was born, he had betrayed everyone’s expectations, and as proof of that, he had been given the punishment of loneliness.

There was no way this meaningless life could bear the weight of three thousand sacrifices.
No matter how he atoned, he could never be forgiven.

“Oh, oh, it seems that really hit home, cursed child. Because you’re a spoiled kid, you swallow the ramblings of adults who are covered in filth and want a hiding place.
But unlike a softie like you, that man is terrifying. An adopted child of an ordinary noble, becoming the head of the College of Cardinals at that age. It wouldn't be possible just by being the Pope’s lover; I sense a dark, political acumen.”

“Don’t... speak ill of my brother!”

Gigi laughed happily and spread her hands in front of her chest, saying, “There, there.”

“But still, Scuro-kun, your beloved brother Michele would have wanted a younger brother like Chiaro, wouldn't he?
He’s bright and honest in front of everyone, and he’s reliable because he’s been working since he was little. Besides, since he’s not too bright, he’ll be easy to use in the future.”

“Stop it, don’t insult Chiaro too! He’s much smarter than me. He has the power to think for himself... and, but, my brother loves me!”

When his words became jumbled, Gigi lowered her eyes with even more delight.

“That’s right, Chiaro is much smarter than you. I thought so too. But doesn't the fact that Michele loves you need a footnote?”

He shouldn't listen; he must not doubt Michele’s love.
That was the only magic that healed the misfortunes of his life, and the reason the Crostata tasted so good.

Yet, he found himself asking, “A footnote?”

“It means he would have loved you even more if the child of God forced on him by the old man hadn't been you. For example, Chiaro! Ah-ha-ha, somehow the conversation has come back to the beginning.”

Gigi tilted her tall frame again and looked down at Scuro. He sensed the final blow was coming.

“Scuro, you’re a failure. As a human, and as an artificial god. But don’t be sad.
Helpless and unable to fulfill anyone’s hopes, you were the same as not existing in this world until yesterday. You’re the same today, and you’ll be the same tomorrow. Whether you’re here or not doesn't matter; that’s what you are.”

Scuro vomited up the foreign object that had suddenly risen in his throat, as if pulling out a thick rope.
Heavy sand soaked with moisture scattered before his eyes, and his vision blurred with tears. The remaining gravel caught in his throat scratched his soft mucous membranes.

This was what he got for getting carried away, thinking he had fully unlocked the power of manifestation.
Even though he was a helpless fake.

He wanted to disappear from misery and shame.

Suddenly, Gigi moved away into the darkness.
Instead, Toto, who had been watching the whole thing in silence, approached Scuro. His appearance remained unchanged, small and adorable.

“Gigi is acting weird today, isn't she? She’s being mean. Scuro, just do it.”

“Do it... do what?”

Toto’s emerald eyes shone like a sharp knife.

“Scuro, you’re a god who can do anything here. Let’s kill the person who pisses you off.
I’ve been pissed off at Gigi plenty of times too. Hero of Twilight, prove that you aren't helpless.”

Mufurione had appeared beside Toto, who had said this with extreme calmness, before he knew it.
Feeling as if he were looking at the Grim Reaper who visits at the moment of death, Scuro held his breath.

The pastoral god, whose color was no longer dark brown but had turned into darkness itself, placed his hoof-like hand on his stomach and said,

“Hero of Twilight, make your decision.”

Staring into Mufurione’s eyes, which seemed about to spill over, Scuro realized his teeth were chattering.

“...I am not helpless.”

“If so, you must use your power to show it.”

Gigi was glaring at him from the distant darkness.

He just had to gather all the hatred in his heart and release it from his horns. Surely the flames of resentment would burn and purify the source of his anger, Gigi.

As he exhaled a trembling breath, there was a rustling sound in his bag.
It was the sound of the oil paper wrapping the Crostata rubbing together.

This was a sweet he had made with all his heart.
He had made it with only pure wishes: wanting Chiaro to feel better, wanting to see Gigi and Toto smile even a little, and wanting everyone to be full.

Before he knew it, tears were streaming down his cheeks.

The moment he said, “I am,” he realized someone was holding his hand and looked up.
There, he saw eyes the color of gentle dappled sunlight.

“Scuro, you’re amazing! I’ve never eaten anything this delicious before.”

Chiaro smiled with a face like honey melting on bread.