Fantasy Novel [Chiaroscuro of Dawn] ep.4 'Chapter 1: The Lonely Artificial God'

Gospel of the Encounter ②

The three brothers, Chiaro and the others, walked silently through the dim corridor of the stone mansion.
A soldier led the way, and another followed at the rear. Chiaro could feel a cold intensity, as if they would not let them off easily if they made even the slightest suspicious move.

Lord Rossi was not there. He had not been permitted to enter the building.
'I have come to see His Holiness!' he had pleaded, but the guards had dismissed him without a second thought.

During the journey, Chiaro had asked the Lord many times what kind of role he would be taking on at the Papal Agency, but he had only been brushed off.
Judging by how he was denied entry, he probably hadn't been told anything either.
The unsettling, high-alert atmosphere only made Chiaro's tension grow.

In Chiaro's sweaty hands was a heavy, dark blue cloak.
Of course, it was the one that had been thrown at him earlier. That child had turned on his heel and left immediately after.
Since he was wearing such high-quality clothing, he must be a person of noble status.

'Your Holiness, Your Eminence Chief Cardinal Gentili, I have brought the guests.'

The hall they were led into was also made of rugged stone, but bright sunlight poured in from a large window.
The old man sitting in the center with long white hair and a white beard must be the Pope. He was wrapped in brilliant pure white robes and held a golden staff.

Beside him stood a tall, sturdy man wearing a green cassock, a vestment resembling a long coat worn by clergy.
He looked to be in his late twenties, but it felt hesitant to call him an 'old man'.
With bright chestnut hair and moss-colored eyes, he had the air of a kind older brother.

Chiaro thought he was glad this person was here for the audience with the Pope.

When the older brother-like Cardinal said, 'Good work, you may leave,' the soldiers bowed deeply and departed.
Chiaro and his brothers stepped forward timidly, lowered their heads, and waited to be spoken to.

'Call him.'

That was the Pope's first word.
The young Cardinal called out, 'Scuro.' The one who entered from the door in the back was the child who had thrown the cloak at him.

The hair tied in a round bun high on his head shone with a color like the evening sky. It was a mysterious shade that could even be called blue hair.
Judging by the faint Adam's apple, he seemed to be a boy. He looked to be about the same age as Chiaro.
The dark blue robe adorned with silver thread suited his elegant features and ultramarine eyes well.

'What are you staring at?'

Surprised once again by the crude remark, Chiaro lowered his head again.
He had started to think that the interaction outside might have been a hallucination, but it seemed it had been real.
'Now, now, Scuro,' the Cardinal chided, and the boy puffed out his cheeks and looked away. He seemed younger than he looked.

The Pope told Chiaro to raise his head in a voice filled with dignity. At that moment, the wrinkled face stiffened slightly.

'It is true that you can predict the weather, is it not?'

'Yes, in the village, I mainly used this power for farm work.'

'Do not speak of things I have not asked, you Ogre scum.'

The dull-colored eyes pierced Chiaro as if looking at something filthy.
Chiaro lowered his head again and took the hands of Gigi and Toto, who were grabbing his clothes in anxiety. Both of their small hands were trembling.

'Your parents?'

'My mother died shortly after giving birth to me, and my father passed away three years ago. These children are...'

'I told you not to speak of things I have not asked. Did your mother also have the power of foresight?'

He was surprised to be asked about his mother so suddenly, but he answered honestly that she did.
The Pope seemed to realize something, said 'I leave the rest to you,' and left.

He didn't know what was going on, but he looked at his younger brothers, glad that the scary person was gone. Toto was biting his lip, holding back tears.

The older brother-like Cardinal clapped his hands to change the atmosphere.

'Well then. Thank you for the long journey, and thank you for coming, Chiaro, Gigi, and Toto.'

'Do you know our names?'

'Lord Rossi sent a fast horse from the transit point. It is only natural to remember the names of important guests. My name is Michele Gentili. Please call me Michele.'

The soft-spoken Michele treated them with such ease that one wouldn't feel his position as a Cardinal.
However, the more he smiled, the more dissatisfied Scuro looked beside him.

'Before I introduce Scuro, Chiaro. May I see your power? I received word from Lord Rossi that you correctly predicted changes in the weather many times on your journey, but I would like to see it with my own eyes. But since the weather probably won't change right now, let's have some tea first.'
'Wait, please wait! The weather won't change, but, something...'

Chiaro closed his eyes and focused on his horns. Along with a tingling sensation, images of scattering white feathers and seven colors appeared.

'From between those clouds, a ladder of angels will descend. And a rainbow should appear, right now.'

Michele and Scuro turned toward the large window Chiaro was pointing at.

As golden light shot through a gap in the white clouds, a small rainbow emerged to color it.
'Amazing... Chiaro, can you predict even such delicate changes?'

'I only know the weather; it's not such a grand thing as a prophecy. Of course, it's easier to tell when things change drastically, but maybe I'm just in good form today.'

Still, the twins were excited by the beautiful sight, which looked like a blessing from heaven, and the other three forgot to blink as they watched.

Michele regained his composure and said,
'Prophecy is receiving the will of heaven and conveying it to the people. You may think your ability is the power to read the weather, but strictly speaking, that is not the case.'

'What you have is the "power of reception." You can predict the weather because you are receiving the will of heaven.'
Chiaro was fascinated by the story he was hearing for the first time.

'The weather is just a part of the information in this world. It is said that the great psychics of the past could receive everything from major events like natural disasters to things as subtle as the human heart.'

'Receiving the human heart... does that mean you can tell what they are thinking?'

'Yes. But it is said that the Ogres at the highest level could even receive destiny. In other words, total future prediction. The power to read everything from the large to the subtle, and even the profound—that is the true power of an Ogre's horns.'

Walking to the window and turning around, the golden sun shone from behind Michele.

The white clouds spreading behind his back looked just like angel wings.
To think that the Ogres, who had been despised, possessed such a wonderful power.

While Chiaro was moved, Michele bit his lip with a complicated expression for some reason.
'However, that is a purely passive power. We, the Os Sacrum Order, do not settle for being mere servants of God, but hold up the high ideal of leading people to greater happiness. Chiaro, it should be fine to show you. Scuro!'

Scuro untied the hair bundled at the top of his head.

What appeared from within the hair that fell smoothly was, of all things, a single pure white horn.
'An Ogre... is this child an Ogre!?'

'Yes. But he is no ordinary Ogre. He is a child of hope who will rewrite the history of the Ogres. What he possesses is the only "power of transmission" in this world. The power to deliver prayers to God.'

Michele continued to Chiaro, who couldn't quite grasp what he was being told.

'Praying for rain in drought-stricken areas to moisten the land. Or, clearing the skies in places where heavy rain might cause landslides. He has the power to transmit earnest prayers and save many people.'

Chiaro, who had muttered 'That's like...', felt his skin prickle.

'Yes, he is the child of God that humanity has been waiting for.'

During the explanation, Scuro did not break his arrogant attitude. He was a little shorter and more slender than Chiaro, but his aura was worthy of being called a child of God.

Chiaro was confused. But it wasn't a bad kind of confusion.
Far from being a powerless existence, the Ogres were an amazing race that could even produce a child of God.
But he suddenly thought,

'Um, so, what should I do? Compared to the power of transmission, my power isn't really anything special.'

'Scuro's power is wonderful, but it is still in development. I want you to help with that ability development. Of course, using that gifted power of reception.'

His younger brothers' and his own livelihood were at stake, so there was no room for objection. Rather, his heart leaned forward, wondering what he could do.

'Hahaha, it's good that you're motivated, but I'll explain the specifics later. Chiaro, your first job is to become Scuro's friend. Can I ask that of you?'

With this perpetually grumpy child of God? Suppressing that thought, he looked at Scuro.
While glaring down at Chiaro, he stuck tightly to Michele and said as if shouting,

'I don't need you! I'm fine as long as I have Nii-ni!'

Nii-ni? Taken aback, Chiaro looked back and forth between Scuro and Michele.

Michele, who had a muscular build but a sweet mask and a glamorous atmosphere, and Scuro, who had a slender, cat- or fox-like refined appearance, looked nothing alike.
Besides, even if Scuro were younger than Chiaro, he shouldn't be at an age to use baby talk.

Just as his head was filled with question marks, Michele smiled and said, 'Chiaro, will you join me for tea?'