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Cale couldn’t help but look at the large statue in the middle of the room. His eyes were so trained on the massive art piece that it was easy for him to ignore the hustle and bustle of dozens of museum workers either bringing in or moving in new artworks for the Henituse family's upcoming exhibition.
Approximately twelve feet tall, it was made of marble and carved into the shape of an angel holding a globe in his hands. The angel’s wings stretched out farther than Cale could extend his arms before curving around the angel as if to envelop both her and her treasured globe. Cale squinted as he drew his gaze from the soft edges of its wings to the soft smile on its face.
He was overcome with a sense of familiarity. Confused with his reaction, he tried to unfocus his eyes and look at the statue again in a new light. Now that he was looking at it again, he realized the angel’s face shared many similarities with his, from a sharp chin to a pointed nose to long eyelashes and full eyebrows. Cale continued looking at the statue.
The Countess turned around after finishing a conversation and saw her son staring. “Cale, are you feeling alright?” she asked worriedly.
A few weeks after the Sealed God Temple debacle, Deruth had called over Violan for a serious conversation. Deruth shared that, sometimes, he would see Cale staring off into the distance with empty eyes and a blank face. It would take multiple calls before Cale would even notice how he’d suddenly disassociated.
At the time, Violan hadn’t been too alarmed. Although she definitely wasn’t happy about it, Violan was all too aware of how her son had been extremely tired from the aftermath of the war. She’d voiced such thoughts to Deruth, who had shook his head.
“This seems different,” he replied. Violan had frowned and asked if Deruth thought that Cale was hiding an illness from them. It made sense, Violan thought sadly, for Cale to not be perfectly healthy after stabbing himself in the heart. Deruth affirmed Violan’s train of thought and told her to keep an eye out for Cale.
Even though they had asked Cale multiple times whether he was truly alright, and even forced him to rest for a few weeks in their territory, they knew that if Cale didn’t want them to be concerned about him, he would do his absolute best to quell their worries by keeping secrets.
Afterwards, Deruth and Violan continued making a combined effort to help Cale open up to them. So far, they've been quite successful. That last time they asked him how he was doing, he confessed he was a bit tired. A bit tired! Deruth and Violan immediately took over all of his responsibilities so he could go on a vacation with his kids.
Unbeknownst to the Henituse couple, however, most of Cale’s episodes of mental disconnection had been caused by his Record ability overloading his brain. Others were a result of Cale’s love for doing nothing but breathing.
The present Cale saw Violan’s concerned gaze. He answered her question honestly. “It’s nothing, mother. It’s just…” he trailed off. Violan waited patiently for Cale to continue. “I was wondering who made this sculpture. It seems familiar to me.”
“Oh,” Violan thought. She then suppressed a smile, remembering who exactly the statue was modeled after.
When the art pieces for the exhibition started arriving, Violan had immediately called forward the statue’s sculptor after seeing her work.
The old woman had chuckled and answered her with a bright smile. “Countess Henituse, I must confess that my main inspiration for this is Young Master Silver Shield. Before moving to the Henituse Territory, I lived in the capital of the Mogoru Empire. I was there when Young Master Silver Shield and his allies first fought against the White Star. I was terrified out of my mind. I knew I was old, but I didn’t want to die. Not yet. Then the sun rose up in the sky, and I saw the young master standing strong.”
The elder averted her gaze. “Of course, that was before he fainted and his mouth dripped black blood, but that is that and this is this.” she nonchalantly brushed off. “My point is that the young master and his silver shield saved me, and many others, from falling into despair. He arrived like an angel and fought to protect us from the evils of the world, even at the cost of his own health and safety. I want to honor his selflessness through this statue, and any other artworks of mine that may follow.”
At the time, Violan had been so touched she had to sneakily wipe a few tears away from her eyes.
Realizing she’d been caught up in her memories, Violan snapped out of it and started responding to Cale’s question. “The creator of this statue is someone who–”
She was interrupted. “Countess Violan!” someone called out from behind them.
The mother and son duo turned to see the Henituse Museum’s art director. The woman’s white-blond hair swished around the wind as she ran over while holding up her long skirt.
“Countess Violan! We need your help. One of the paintings delivered today was found to have a large scratch on it. It’s the one about the Battle of the Stan Territory donated by Marquis Taylor Stan himself! I already had it transported to one of our museum’s artists, and they said they should be able to fix it before tomorrow afternoon. However, they say they need you to look at it first because they might need to make some modifications to the painting itself.”
Violan frowned. “Cale, I’m afraid I have to cut our conversation short. Are you available for dinner today at six in the evening? It’s been a while since we ate together as a family.”
Cale nodded. “I’ll be sure to come.”
“Your father, siblings, and I look forward to seeing you later, then. Feel free to continue looking around the museum.” Violan gave Cale a warm smile before walking away.
Cale made a few rounds around the exhibition rooms for a few minutes, taking care to read the placards placed on the side of each art piece. His strides, however, slowed near the statue that caught his eye hours before. He sighed.
“What is it about this piece that draws me in?” he mumbled even though he already knew the answer. The statue reminded him vividly of a gentle face belonging to his past.
Cale walked in a circle around the statue, before coming to a stop right in front of it. He closed his eyes, and began remembering one of the happiest times in his life.
It was a sunny afternoon. Kim Rok Soo and his parents were driving in their car.
The car was silent, aside from the blare of the radio. “And for our next song, we have a timeless classic. Introducing, I Have a Dream by ABBA!”
Kim Rok Soo’s mom gasped in excitement. She lightly clapped her hands as she asked her husband to turn the volume up even more than it already was.
“My favorite song!” she exclaimed. Kim Rok Soo watched her turn her body to look at him from the passenger seat of his father’s car. The soft smile on her face was contagious. And it was as intimately familiar to Kim Rok Soo as the back of his hands. The delighted look in her eyes was even more so.
“Have I ever told you, my darling, that during the time I was pregnant with you, I listened to this song constantly? One time, I sang it out loud, and you began kicking for the first time!” she shared. “Oh, that was when I realized you were going to be a strong little boy!”
Cale’s dad laughed. “She’s right, son. Your mom sang this song so many times that I have it memorized even until now.”
“Oh, really? Then let’s have a competition! Whoever sings the best, gets bragging rights!”
Cale’s dad smirked. “Get ready to lose, then, my love.”
“Not a chance.” she replied with an even more vicious smirk.
The two were interrupted by a giggle. “Can I join?” Kim Rok Soo asked.
Cale’s mom smiled. “Of course!”
The parents grinned at each other, then started to sing. Kim Rok Soo tried to suppress his happy laughter and did his best to follow along.
“I have a dream, a song to sing, to help me cope with anything. If you see the wonder of a fairy tale, you can take the future…”
“Even if you fail.” Cale continued on, years later, in a new body in a new world.
He took a deep breath, before singing the rest of the lyrics of his favorite song.
In another room of the Henituse Museum, a young man was startled. “What was that?” he panicked. He stood up and looked around the room he was in. He was alone. “That sound must’ve come from outside!” he concluded. He grabbed a lamp and began walking toward where he thought the sound came. His unoccupied hand rested on the scabbard of his sword.
The knight had been assigned to watch over the Henituse Museum during the night time. He had been taking a break when he heard someone walking around. From the tone of the voice, the person must be a man around his early twenties.
“There should be no one else in this museum other than me. Countess Violan and her team should’ve already exited. They were supposed to only be here for an hour to check on the artworks before the exhibition tomorrow” the knight mumbled.
He began walking faster before turning around a corner. His eyes widened and he quickly stepped back. He pressed a hand to his mouth to stop himself from gasping. “That red hair!” he thought. “I’d recognize it anywhere! It's the Young Master Silver Shield!”
“But what is the hero of the Western Continent doing here?” the knight wondered. He spent a few more seconds debating what to do before deciding to return to his post. “He must want some alone time admiring the artworks Countess Violan and her team gathered. I shouldn’t bother him.”
However, before he could even take one step, he was stopped in his tracks.
An enchanting voice echoed throughout the hall. “I believe in angels. Something good in everything I see. I believe in angels. When I know the time is right for me, I'll cross the stream - I have a dream.”
The young knight was amazed. “A siren? Wait, no, what am I thinking! It’s the young master who’s singing! That vibrato… it’s like the chimes of bells ringing! How is it possible for a voice to be so endearing?”
Unaware of his captivated audience of one, Cale proceeded to sing louder. “It’s not like anyone is listening in.” he thought to himself.
“I have a dream, a fantasy to help me through reality. And my destination makes it worth the while, pushing through the darkness still another mile. I believe in angels.” he vocalized.
Initially, the knight had been confused on what dream the young master was hopefully singing about, but after listening to the rest of Cale’s song, he realized that there could only be one answer to his question. “World peace! That must be Sir Cale’s wish! What an inspiring dream!”
The knight wasn’t completely wrong. Cale did wish for peace in this world, but only because he wanted a safe place for him and his people so that they could live happily doing whatever they wanted to do. But Cale had somehow deluded himself into thinking his steps to achieve this noble dream were only done in his pursuit of a so-called “slacker life.”
The guard listened until Cale finished his song. He wanted to take some time to reflect on the song's beautiful message, but then he saw Cale walking towards the exhibition room's main door. The guard squeaked then hastily made his way to large pillar. He peered from behind it as the young master made his way outside the museum.
"Wow," the guard couldn't help but say to himself. His feeling of amazement didn't diminish even until the end of his shift, when he resolved to somehow talk to the young master about his enchanting voice.
𝄢𝄞♫♭♩
It was two weeks later when Cale attended the museum exhibit’s opening night at the request of his mother.
He relished the taste of red wine as he took his post at a dark corner of the room. He was right beside one of the conference room’s exits, and was prepared to run if any noble lady so much as made a move to him. The last time someone tried to ask for his hand in marriage proved disastrous. Cale didn’t even realize they wanted an alliance and just thought they were talking about wanting to dance.
In his defense, the woman kept on using odd metaphors and similes while talking. It took Ron having to come between the woman and Cale for him to realize her intentions.
He sighed and took another sip, only to find his wine glass already empty. He walked forward a bit to catch the attention of one of the passing waiters, but stopped when he sensed someone coming up beside him. Turning his head to the side, Cale saw a young man wearing a guard uniform.
“Young master,” the guard greeted him. His voice was steady but had a tinge of nervousness to it that Cale had long grown used to receiving due to his well-known status as an “untouchable immortal,” in the words of Clopeh Sekka. Nevermind the fact that he wasn’t even an immortal. His numerous battles against the White Star cemented him as a figure to be admired by the masses, against his wishes of being a hidden figure who no one would look for in retirement.
The guard continued. “I’m one of the night guards here at the museum. I was on shift the day you came along with Countess Violan to look through our museum’s artworks.”
Wondering where the guard was going with this, Cale nodded hesitantly.
“Well, I’m ashamed to admit this, but I was there when you, uh, sang about having a dream.” At Cale’s alarmed expression, the guard winced and waved his hands. ”Apologies, young master! I didn’t stay for long. I only heard a bit of your singing.” he blatantly lied. “I just wanted to say, your voice is amazing. It’s almost otherworldly. You’re truly gifted, young master.”
A blush spread over Cale’s face. He was caught extremely off guard. Not knowing how to respond, he stammered before finally saying “Thank you for your kind words.”
The guard smiled sheepishly. “I have to get going now, young master. Duty calls, but I appreciate you for listening to my tangent. You’re very gracious.”
Suddenly, the guard turned back. “Excuse me for asking, young master, but I can’t help but wonder where that song came from. Did you compose it yourself? Or did you hear it during one of your many travels?”
“Ah, that...” Cale averted the guard’s gaze in lieu of finding a safe way to exit the building.
A gasp sounded from behind Cale. “Song?” a young girl who looked to be no more than four years old repeated. “Song! Song!” she cheered. She jumped up and down in excitement. Cale blue-screened.
An older man and woman hastily made their way to the three. The man bowed his head. “On behalf of my child, I am sorry for disturbing you, young master.” The woman bowed too then continued. “Our sincerest apologies. Our daughter is still learning her words and tends to repeat familiar ones multiple times to get the hang of pronunciation.”
“It is of no consequence.” Cale cleared his throat. “It’s good that your daughter is furthering her education. I was just around her age when I started learning how to sing. I had a hard time pronouncing certain words, too. In fact, I-”
The girl interrupted Cale before he could finish his sentence. “Song! Please!” she clasped her hand together and gave him puppy eyes.
Cale gulped at the excited gaze directed at him. Not for the first time, he wished he was back at home with the kids instead of attending this art exhibition.
An elder who was passing by looked shocked. “Oh? I didn’t know you were performing tonight, young master. And a song, too? How amazing! Truly, you have many talents. As can be expected from such an illustrious figure as you.”
Cale’s eyes widened. “I’m afraid this was a misunderstanding. I’m not here to-”
Seeing Cale looking nervous from the corner of her eye, Violan immediately excused herself from her conversation with one of her husband’s advisors and began walking to her son. In the few seconds it took for her to cross the ballroom, a number of people had gathered around Cale, encouraging him to share his voice.
Violan interjected amongst the crowd’s chattering. She controlled her face to prevent her dissatisfaction from showing. “Everybody, I understand you’re all eager, but my son is here as a guest. I would appreciate it if you let him be instead of bothering him.”
Cale faked a cough after seeing some of the nobles’ apologetic and sheepish expressions. “It’s alright, mother. It’s no big deal.”
“They’re just asking me to sing one song, anyway. What’s the harm?” Cale thought to himself.
“I suppose we have time for one song.” Cale said out loud.
In the future, Cale would come to regret this decision very much. One of the nobles present apparently had a video recording device hidden in their wide sleeves. They had made and distributed copies of their recording all throughout the Western Continent and later on, the Eastern one. Cale would be accosted every single time he went out in public by friends and, in private, by his family to sing.
The present Cale, of course, had no way of knowing this. So focused was he on singing that he failed to notice the dropped jaws and stunned gazes everyone had as they listened to Cale sing.
Violan felt incredibly proud. “How beautiful.” she stated with a loving gaze.
Cale couldn’t help but smile as he sang. It almost felt as though his mother and father were there right behind him, laying their heads on his shoulders and singing along.
“I have a dream.” he finished and closed his eyes. For a fleeting moment, he felt two pairs of arms wrapping lovingly around him.
Cale opened his watery eyes to the sound of applause.