OMS Extra 4 (End)

A scene between the two after they embark on their journey.

The heavy darkness receded as the bright morning sun illuminated the surroundings. I let out a breath of relief as the ominous aura dissipated, then looked over at Viirant, who had just sheathed his sword. His golden hair, shimmering in the sunlight, cast a shadow on his high cheekbones from his long lashes. Even his breath, white and billowing in the cold, looked like it belonged in a painting. He was the kind of dazzling man who seemed more at home beneath a chandelier than in a dark, beast-infested forest. Yet here he was, smiling at me.

“Shall we head back to the inn?” he asked.

“Yeah, let’s.”

It was the night of Holy Night, the longest night of the year, when the aura of evil is strongest. It’s odd to call it “Holy Night” when darkness is at its peak, but apparently, the second Saint thought up the idea of turning it into a festive celebration to ward off evil. People light as many torches as possible, prepare plenty of food and drink, and spend the night eating, drinking, and laughing, all in anticipation of the dawn of blessing. While the people party, the priests offer prayers, and knights like Viirant spend the night slaying beasts. This was one such night.

While fighting, I had felt hot, but now, as we started walking, the cold air of winter chilled my sweat. I shivered, instinctively hunching my shoulders. Even though my Holy Power and level keep increasing, making it easy to defeat most beasts, age still has its toll. Sure, I can survive a stab to the heart, but the biting cold of early morning still gets to me. All I could think about was warming up by the fireplace.

As I rubbed my numb fingers together, something soft and warm was suddenly draped around my neck. A scarf—or to use the term the young folks say—a muffler. It seemed to be of high quality, knitted from soft wool and magically imbued with warmth, as it was radiating a cozy heat. Sighing in relief from the unexpected warmth, I looked up to see Viirant’s amethyst eyes gently crinkling with a smile.

“Since it’s morning now, here’s your present,” he said.

“Huh? A present?”

I was about to remark on how well-prepared he was when he mentioned it was a gift. A gift… because it’s morning? My mind drifted back to memories long buried.

It was nearly 30 years ago, back when my parents were still alive. After celebrating Holy Night all night, worn out and sleepy by morning, we exchanged gifts under the pale, dawning sky. I remember giving my father a new quiver and my mother a salve for her hands. In return, my father gave me a pair of leather boots, and my mother gifted me new clothes she had sewn herself.

“To celebrate making it safely through the night, you exchange gifts with those you care about,” my father had explained to me as a child. We had carried on that tradition every year—until I lost both my parents at once. After that, with no family or lovers to exchange gifts with, I had forgotten all about it.

…Which explains why I hadn’t prepared anything for Viirant.

“Ah, sorry… I completely forgot…” I said, feeling awkward.

“It’s alright. I just wanted to give you something,” he replied, his smile reassuring and unbothered.

He wasn’t lying, and it was clear he genuinely wasn’t upset. Given how much time we spent together, Viirant probably knew I hadn’t prepared anything. After all, we were practically inseparable. Still, despite his understanding, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t right to leave it like this. I couldn’t think of anything I could give this man who seemed to have everything. I had no clue what would make him happy. But I wasn’t the kind of man who could just accept a gift without offering something in return. My pride as an older man wouldn’t let me.

As I mulled over my options, Viirant, clearly reading my thoughts, gave a small, hesitant smile and spoke.

“Well… if I may ask for something…”

“Hm? Something you want?”

“Yes. If it’s alright… I’d like you to promise that we’ll spend next Holy Night together as well.”

His words were so unexpected that my mouth fell open. That’s not much of a gift, I thought. Surely, compared to this warm scarf, it felt terribly unbalanced. I almost said he should ask for something more substantial—but when I turned to look at him, the sincerity in his eyes made me pause.

I had almost left him behind not too long ago.

I had my reasons—I was setting out on a journey with no return date in sight, and I told myself that Viirant deserved someone better. I had used those excuses to justify sneaking away from the temple alone. Viirant had somehow caught wind of my plans and intercepted me, but had he not, we wouldn’t be standing here together right now. It made sense why he’d seek a promise for the future after that.

“Ah… well, I can’t say for sure what’ll happen in the future, but…”

…Don’t look at me like that. With those eyes, you remind me of a lost puppy, despite being such an impressive man.

“I do want to spend next year with you… like this. Is that good enough?”

I’m not young enough to make promises about the future so casually. Who knows, I might be cold and dead in bed by tomorrow, or have my heart pierced again by some other demon lord. I can’t guarantee anything. But right now, in this moment, what I said was true. If possible, I wanted to spend the time together.

“That’s more than enough,” Viirant replied, his golden hair shimmering in the morning sun as he smiled. His amethyst eyes, full of tender affection, crinkled with joy.

That radiant smile was almost too much to bear, so I fidgeted with the scarf around my neck. Soft and comforting, the scarf was warm, just like Viirant’s hand.

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