The Rose Of The South
Chapter 38: The

Leon doesn't know how long he's been locked up there. But it feels like it's been years.

"Damn it, Eleanor!" His voice echoed throughout the room.

No. gabe. It was not a room at all, but an entire forest. He is now in a forest. Whereas previously Leon believed himself in the Winterthur Warehouse, a strange room in the house of Eleanor Winterthur which is said to only be entered by people of Winterthur blood and his descendants.

The forest is like a dream. Nordhalbinsel had only snow and ice, but in fact it was much greener than the forests Leon had seen in Schiereiland and Westeria. Shady trees grew along the eye of the beholder, so high and shady that Leon could barely see the sky. He himself was unsure at this time of day or night. The air is not freezing cold as the air in Nordhalbinsel should. The air is cool, with a breeze that carries the scent of wet soil, trees and the scent of wildflowers. If Leon listened more carefully, he could almost hear the sounds of insects and the growling of wild animals from a distance.

He clasped King Zuidlijk's sword in his hand tightly. At least he was sure he wouldn't starve in that forest. It would be great if there were wild animals to eat.

Leon was not hungry at all. He believed he had been in the forest for days. He also did not feel sleepy or tired even though he had walked around the forest long enough.

Illusion, Leon thought. Eleanor Magic.

Leon finally chose to remain silent in one place, closing his eyes, trying to concentrate. Trying to hear any sound that can ensure that he is not in a forest, but in a room. He remembered the lesson from Eleanor.

"To defeat illusion magic, you first need to realize that it's just an illusion." Eleanor's voice rang in her mind.

So that's what he did. Reminds himself that this is an illusion. That this isn't real. He awaits the footsteps of the servants of the Winterthur House. Waiting for the sound of bells from a distance. Wait for the slightest sound that can take him out of the illusion.

"Hello, Winterthur's son."

He recognized that voice. Aletha Voice. One of Aletha's disturbing voices.

Leon was still not ready to open his eyes. Worried that if he opened his eyes, he was back inside the forest. So he kept his eyes closed while answering that annoying greeting.

"Who are you?"

Instead of answering his question, the voice giggled amusedly. "I should ask, who are you?" This time it was a girl's voice.

"You know who I am."

"It's not true. You're a stranger. Your existence here is very foreign and familiar. You shouldn't be here. But you're destined to be here, too." The voice laughed again. Laughter of a young girl. "Why did you close your eyes?"

"You're illusory. Like everything else here. I won't be trapped."

"Smart." This time the voice imitated Eleanor. "I'm testing you. And you graduated." That haughty voice could not be mistaken. The northern log is too obvious. But Leon knew it wasn't Eleanor. It was one of Aletha's voices. "Open your eyes."

Leon was goosebumps as the command tone in the voice actually sounded like Eleanor. But he could finally reject it as well."No."

The next time, Eleanor's voice disappeared. Replaced by another voice. A voice that he knows very well and at the same time very much he misses. "Open your eyes, Leon..."

"Your Majesty?" Leon immediately opened his eyes because all he had just heard was Princess Anastasia's voice. He immediately regretted his actions. Of course it's just another trap.

Aletha's voice laughed at him.

He was still in the woods. The forest of illusion created by Eleanor. But there was another person standing before him at this moment. A lady. Nope. Young girl. She was probably the same age as Princess Anastasia. The girl was wearing a white dress that waved in the wind, barefooted at all. Her pale white skin was even paler than Eleanor's. Her hair is as black as night. The girl's eyes were covered by a white cloth. In the girl's hand, there was Aletha's crystal ball that was burning bright blue.

"Who are you?" Ask Leon.

"I am Aletheia. Goddess of Truth."

"If you're a goddess, why do you cover your eyes?"

"The truth cannot always be seen with the eyes, Son of Winterthur."

"You're wrong. I'm not Winterthur's son. Just because I'm in this house, and being able to get into that weird room, doesn't mean I'm one of them."

"I am sad to hear it..." Aletheia's voice sounded moody. "I have shown you all the truth. You reject the truth. You choose to live in your own illusion." Aletheia then extended her hand, "Come with me. There's someone you need to meet."

"How do I know you're not setting me up? I've been lied to enough by the Witch Queen."

"You doubt the Truth, Son of Winterthur? Then what would you believe?"

Leon did not answer. He himself did not know the answer.

"In addition if I intend to frame you, I am not armed. And you're... You're holding that sword. Who's really dangerous?" Aletheia.

Leon decided to take that risk. Even if he stayed here, he would somehow be left silent in Eleanor's illusory forest while she waited for the Queen to release him. Maybe by following Aletheia he found a way to get out of the forest. Or maybe a dead end.

They walked through tree after tree, across river after river, up steep cliffs that did not seem difficult for Aletheia even though she was wearing a dress and not wearing footwear. They walked down the narrow path between the wildflowers, and Aletheia stopped.

"We're where we started!" Jerky Leon. "I should have known you-"

"Srst..." Aletehia put her finger to her lips, "Don't be hard. You can surprise him. He is very sensitive to the slightest sound. He's in there. Waiting." Aletheia said as she pointed towards the branches in front of Leon.

"Him? Who?"

"The Beautiful. He refused to talk to us even though he liked to see what we showed him. He's been here for years. No one's managed to get it out all this time. No one's ever made it here, just you. He's been waiting for you."

"I? Why-"

But before Leon continued his sentence, there was a rustling sound of leaves from behind the wide branches before him. Then when Leon turned back to Aletheia beside him, the Goddess was gone.

"Who's there?" Ask that voice. His voice was clear and flowing as if he were singing. A female. If judged by his voice, he might be Leon's age. Maybe even younger. His accent sounds different. Not the way Eleanor and Xavier talk. It was as if he was not used to using a northern accent. "My jaw! Who's in there?" This time his voice snapped. Even Leon himself was shocked to hear it.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to sneak around. Someone brought me here, Lady." Answer Leon as decently as possible.

The branches were exposed. Behind it, was the most beautiful woman Leon had ever seen. Surprisingly, it was the face of Aletheia, with more lively and glowing skin, reddish meticulous cheeks, and eyes that were not covered in cloth. Her eyes are very beautiful with long and pliable eyelashes. Her eyes are emerald.

"Oh, hello..." The girl smiled at him. Friendly and warm smile. "You look familiar. Have we met before?"

Leon still stands. He knows the girl. He's seen her somewhere. All parts of him knew that he knew her.

"No." The answer.

"really? I feel so sure that I know you." The girl extended her hand. "I'm Irene." She said, smiling broadly as if she was just an ordinary girl who only knew a beautiful life.

Irene.

Irene.

Leon received the helping hand and shook it for a while, then hurriedly took it off as if afraid of coming into contact with it. Irene's hands were warm. But it wasn't the hands of a gentle Lady. His hands were full of wounds and calluses. Like Leon's hand. Like the hands of a soldier. Nope. It was the hand of a general. Leon shuddered when he finally realized who the girl in front of him was.

"You don't want to say your name?" He raised his eyebrows, waiting. Then while Leon was still silent, he sighed. "Are today's children disrespectful or does no one teach you manners?"

"You look younger than me." this time Leon decided to take it easy.

Irene. It was clearly not the laughter of a graceful Lady. It was the laughter of someone who had spent too long of his life in tents on the battlefield with the soldiers. "Son, believe me, I'm much older than you." He grunted annoyedly. "So why are you here? Oh, let me guess. Trapped by a pretty witch?"

"Almost exactly."

"It's too bad." Irene shook her head in pity, but then a smile was painted on her face, "At least I've got a chattermate." He laughed merrily as if he had been waiting for the presence of a chatting friend for a very long time.

Irene turned around and hinted Leon to follow her. They walked to a lake not far from there.

"Why are you here?" Leon decided to ask after a while they just walked in silence.

"The story is long." Answer Irene. Then he seemed busy picking some wide leaves on the edge of the lake and roll them out on the rocky ground there. Leon only realized that Irene had only been alone by the lake. He sat down while looking down at the lake. "Sit down here. I'll show you something." He said while patting the pedestal from the leaf.

Leon. Inside, his heart was racing. She's nervous. It was hard to believe he was sitting next to General Irene's past figure. It was like sitting next to a legend. He didn't look like what Leon had imagined. There were no paintings of General Irene during her time in Schiereiland, but Leon had heard of them from her seniors. They say General Irene looks like the woman of every soldier's dreams. Like the Goddess of War with long black hair that is always braided, shiny armor and a voice that evokes the spirit of her troops. Fear of the enemy and adored by his men. But right now, without armor, without braided hair, and without swords, General Irene was just a jolly girl named Irene.

The lake water was so clear as glass. No. gabe. It was really glass. Window glass. And a pair of emerald eyes were staring at him. Not Irene's eyes, Leon realized. He recognized those eyes.

The age of the boy was definitely no more than five years old. It's still very small. But even as a child, Leon recognized him. Her skin was as white as snow, while her hair color and eye color were completely similar to the girl who was beside Leon at the moment.

Leon turned his gaze back on Irene. Irene was smiling looking at the boy. Sad smile.

The boy appears to be locked up in a room. Palace room. He was alone there, looking at the outside world from behind the window. He tried to open the window, but could not. Then the boy ran to the door, banging on the door, calling out to his father. No one came and opened the door. Before long, the boy's skin paled. Breath gasping. He held onto his throat like he was suffocating, and his tears began to flow. Then Leon realized, something was wrong in the room. The room was filled with gas until the window glass blackened. But there was no air vent so the gas remained trapped inside with the boy. Poison gas.

"He could die!"

"He'll survive." Irene. His voice vibrates.

Leon looked towards him. Irene seemed ready to jump into the lake right then and there, but she held back. Both hands were clenched beside his body. "We have to help her." Said Leon.

Irene laughed bitterly, shaking her head. "can't. After all, this is just a memory. Believe me, he will survive. He always manages to hold on."

Shortly thereafter, when Leon believes the boy will faint, the boy picks up a chair. The chair was larger than his small body, but he managed to lift it. With energy remaining, he threw the chair towards the window. The window glass broke. He survived.

"Smart kid." Irene commented, smiling with relief.

"He almost died!"

"Believe me, it's not the first time. And not the last time. He was always faced with a situation that made him almost die. The bad women are so persistent. But he can always survive."

Leon turned his eyes back to the water in the lake. This time he saw the boy jump off the balcony. His leg must have been broken, because then the boy ran while limping looking for help.

"He's my son." Irene told me what Leon knew. "That's a pity, he looks more like my husband than I do. Thank goodness he inherited my eyes. It's not that I don't like it, but when I see it I inevitably think of my husband. My husband is not a bad person, really, I think the problem is that he is too good. He was my first friend once I set foot in Nordhalbinsel, in a place completely foreign to me. I came to the palace because of a political marriage, because I was forced by people who claimed to be my family to marry him, but he offered me friendship. He said he didn't expect me to love him, but it would be better if we could be friends. He was so good to me that it was hard to hate him. It was easier to love her, but I was still so angry that I closed my heart. Not angry with him, I angry at the circumstances, angry at my destiny, angry at my family who dumped me, then just take me back to this ice country for their own sake. I was too mean to my husband, I didn't let my heart open to him even after everything he did for me. When I... When I left, he blamed himself. He thought I could definitely live longer and happier if I didn't marry him. He was too late in his suffering to forget that his son also suffered the same suffering. Our son... The emerald-eyed boy..." As Irene turned her gaze and turned towards Leon, Leon could see the girl's emerald eyes glazed over. Her tears were stuck in her eyes. "Name Xavier." And then, with a choked voice.

"I know..." Said Leon unconsciously.

"I wonder if my son knows that I love him so much. I have always been watching him. Watching him grow up without me. Tortured here without being able to do anything while having to watch him being tortured there. Does he know?"

"He must know."

"I miss him..."

"I know." His words seemed muffled, "I know you must miss your son."

Irene again nailed her gaze to the lake. Eyebrows. His voice swallowed as if he was whispering on the surface of the lake water. "Do you know, or pretend you don't?"

"What?"

"I have two sons." He said while still paying attention to the surface of the lake water.

"Oh..."

Leon also turned his gaze to the lake water. This time the lake showed another boy. The boy's feet were covered in twig wounds. But she held back her crying. He settles into the treatment room, takes the ointment, and treats his own wounds while enduring the pain. But maybe it was because the wound was too sore, or maybe it was because no one was treating it, maybe because he was lonely and missed his parents, he said, tears slowly began to flow from both of his hazel-colored eyes.

"Your eyes are beautiful. It's like your father." Said Irene while still paying attention to the boy shown by the lake.

"No. You're wrong."

Irene turned her gaze to Leon. He cringed. His eyes are still glazed. "Did no one ever say it? You look like me. The whole. The way you smile, the way you frown when you think, your toughness, even your talent. All except those beautiful hazel eyes. The eyes you inherited from the man I love so much."

Leon did not dare to look at Irene. He still nailed his gaze on the hazel-eyed boy. On a small version of himself. "You're wrong. I'm an orphan. My parents died on the battlefield. King Edward made me his son. The King and Queen of Schiereiland love me like their own son."

"I know..." His voice was as gentle as the wind caress in the forest. "I love you too. I miss you too, Leon."

How long had Leon been waiting for that voice. The voice that called his name was full of affection. The normal sound, for other children, they can hear every day from the moment they are in the cradle. The voice that should have accompanied him grew up. Of course the voice of Queen Isabella all this time treated her longing. But it always seems that there is less because from the beginning Leon knew that Queen Isabella was not his biological mother. Although Queen Isabella doted on him and asked him to treat her like her mother, the people in the Palace would stare at her intently if she called the Queen Mother. They will begin to gossip loudly nearby about how inappropriate the children call their King and Queen by the name of Father and Mother.

How long had Leon imagined it, wondering what it would sound like when his name was called by his mother. He was too tired to imagine it. So he stopped imagining it and accepted the fact that it was just wishful thinking. Her mother is gone and she will never hear her voice.

Leon took a breath before speaking, "I'm not-"

"I've been watching you all along. I saw you from here. I wish someday I could go out and meet you." Irene's voice shook with the cry.

"Stop."

"I love you, son. Hugely. I'm sorry I was never there for you. You must have suffered so much all along. I want to feel like I'm tearing apart the people who beat you up and doing evil to you. How dare they hurt the son of a General! I want to scream like that. But I can't."

"Stop! My parents are dead. You're not my mother." As Leon said it, Irene looked extremely hurt. And Leon, somehow, felt the wound. So he lowered his tone. "My mother died in the war trying to save King Edward. He died honorable as a hero."

"That's right. Not right at once." Irene. He wiped off his tears before continuing, "I am indeed dead... In that life I'm dead."

"What do you mean?"

"I know it'll be hard to believe, but please listen to my explanation... Edward-King Edward I mean, he feels guilty because between the four of us-Edward, Crown Prince Philip, your father and me-only he survived that war. So he went looking for the Lilacier Grimoire and then stole his hourglass. Do you know what that hourglass did?"

Leon remembered all the books Eleanor had given him lately. Books about strange magical items belonging to the Grimoire Clan held by their descendants. Lilacier's Sand Clock was one of them.

"Turning the clock?" Leon was unsure of his own answer.

"It's not exactly that. Everyone thought the hourglass turned back time, but it wasn't. The clock takes its user and anyone nearby through space and time. Edward brought you to a life where I'm still alive and war hasn't happened yet. He could not prevent war from happening nor the deaths that followed, but he managed to get me back to my homeland. Nordhalbinsel. When I was forced to return to my family just before the war, the whole of Schiereiland considered me a traitor. But Nordhalbinsel welcomed me as the missing Princess of Winterthur, then as their Queen. I didn't know at the time that Edward was doing it all to keep me alive. I just found out from Aletheia when I was here."

That story is hard to believe. And Leon did not immediately believe him. If this forest and its entire contents were Eleanor's masterpiece with her illusory magic, then Eleanor's magic would be boundless. The illusory magic could create the figure of the Goddess of Truth, General Irene as a youth, and the story of the Grimoire Sand Clock that even Eleanor herself did not know of the existence of the hourglass. If this is all an illusion, then all the stories are just lies. Leon must have missed the figure of his birth mother so much that the figure appeared before him. How disappointing it would be if it was all an illusion.

Leon tried to find out. Is it just an illusion or not. So he tried to test it.

"Do you have cheese?" Ask.

Irene, of course, felt very surprised by the sudden question. He looked confused and at a loss for words. "You...hungry?"

"I want to eat cheese."

"Good God, stupid me! Confessing to me as someone's mother but I don't prepare any food. Of course you'll be hungry, your body this big. You must be diligent in exercising. And why are you so tall! How about this, I never cook. I can't cook anything. There's nothing to cook here anyway." Irene looked around frantically as if she was looking for something to eat. "Wait first... The cheese you said? I thought you couldn't eat cheese."

Leon's pupils dilated. "You know what?"

Irene nodded. "We're the same." Then Irene realized that she meant, "You're testing is this all an illusion?"

Leon nodded.

Out of the blue, Irene smiled. "It's not an illusion, Leon. You're still locked up out there, probably asleep in my family's secret room. But everything I said was true. I am indeed your mother and I am neither an illusion nor a magic-made figure of my son-in-law. By the way, I should scold the girl for doing something wrong to my son. Maybe he'll just give you two hours of sleep!"

Leon smiled, holding back his laughter, imagining Irene nagging Eleanor Winterthur who was as hard and cold as an iceberg. "I'm sorry, but it's hard to believe." Said.

The atmosphere between them melted. Even so, Leon was still afraid to believe that the figure before him right now was truly his biological mother. That his mother had been alive and waiting to be saved by him. That her mother had always been watching her from a place she never knew.

Suddenly Leon remembered the words he heard from Aletha. The noisy crystal ball once said that Xavier had come into the room before Leon. Maybe Xavier knows everything. Maybe Xavier did find himself all this time not just for Leon to save his mother. But also for Leon to meet his mother.

"I understand. I didn't even ask you to call me mother. You can call me anything. Irene could too. Or General. Oh, about that, am I not your senior? Anyway, whatever, just don't ever call me Her Majesty. That sucks. I never felt like I fit into that title. I just happened to be married to a King." Leon smiled at Irene's words. He never expected that when he met the figure of the woman who was his birth mother, he would be as young and as chatty as that. Irene seemed to be aware of it, so she hurriedly added, "Sorry...I'm noisy huh? Kris has often said that I am annoying because I talk a lot. I think you agree with him. You look a lot like your father in that. Just talk to the people closest to you."

"How do I break the black magic?" Ask Leon suddenly. "Xavier must be eager to meet you and talk to you like this. He did everything he could to find a way to save you. It's not just me who's lost a mother since birth."

Before saying so, Irene smiled. The smile was as bright as the sun during the summer. But the words he spoke were as if carrying a storm cloud, "Easy, Leon. You just need to stab me with that sword. Right in my heart. Kill me, son."

...****************...