That day, I saw a deer.

“When Carta, who had condemned my mother Martha Brandon as a traitor, pushed me beneath the spire and I opened my eyes again, I saw a deer as white as falling snow.”

The deer gestured toward me with its head. With eyes as red as yours, Derien, it gazed at me as though beckoning me to follow.

I entered the deep forest beyond the broken castle wall behind the spire, following the deer’s white footprints that dotted the snow like rabbit ears.

“That’s where I obtained the red fruit.”

Under an enormous conifer too large for even you to embrace, Derien, I found the fruit. 

Cherry-red fruits hung abundantly along a leafless red stem. It was a type of tree I had never seen before.

“The white deer approached the fruit, took one in its mouth, and placed it in my hand. Then it looked back at the tree bearing the fruits.”

It seemed to be urging me to pick more.

So I did. But I wasn’t sure how many to take. Even after filling one hand with fruit, the amount on the tree hadn’t diminished at all. I couldn’t tell if I should continue or stop there.

“The deer seemed to sense my hesitation and nudged my back with its nose.”

Just as I greedily filled both hands with fruit, I heard someone call my name.

“Brote.”

Someone grabbed my shoulder while calling my name.

“Who was it?”

“I never saw their face. But I knew.”

“It was him, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

Startled by a voice that shouldn’t have been there, I turned around to find nothing. The fruits that had fallen from my hands were simply melting into the white snow.

The person who had called my name was nowhere to be seen.

“That’s when it happened.”

“…”

The white deer that had guided me there tugged at my sleeve, indicating there was somewhere else we needed to go. The sky was endlessly spitting snow in a pale gray, and the branches bearing that snow swayed precariously.

Through them, I could glimpse the tip of that spire. I immediately understood where the deer was heading.

So I retraced my steps. I saw the broken castle wall, and beyond it, the spire.

“And beneath it, I saw you.”

You were kneeling with your head bowed. The two feet protruding from beneath your large shadow looked somehow familiar.

The purple satin disheveled around the ankles, the slippers carelessly discarded nearby, these were things still draped on my body.

I realized then that I was dead.

“Why do you say such things so casually?”

“Because I had expected it.”

There was no way I could have survived falling from that height. More than anything, you had already told me the truth, that you had bought me for that very purpose.

“That was…”

“I’m not bringing this up to blame you.”

I understand your circumstances quite well. I know you had your own reasons. I have no intention of blindly condemning you. That’s not why I started this story.

In any case, as I was watching you, I heard the sound of horses. When I turned toward the noise, a black carriage was crossing the front yard. Vivi and Carta were inside. They seemed to be in the middle of removing their masks, with long hair tumbling out from beneath.

Our eyes might have met briefly, but it was such a fleeting moment that I couldn’t be certain.

With the clamorous sound of hooves, the carriage quickly departed from the mansion.

“I had no idea…”

“Yes, you seemed unaware. You didn’t move at all until the carriage had completely disappeared.”

Well, regardless of how events unfolded, one thing was clear: I was dead, wandering somewhere between life and death, and if I wanted to say goodbye to you, this would be my last chance.

I thought I should greet you. Especially if it was to be the last time.

But the deer had other plans. It kept prodding my back with its sharp antlers, indicating we had no time to waste. Whether I wanted to or not, I drew closer to the mansion step by step.

“But it was in ruins.”

“Ah.”

“It had collapsed beyond repair, revealing its innards that had once been contained within solid outer walls.”

“There was a reason for that…”

“You destroyed it.”

For me.

You know, Derien, I sometimes think you need to learn how to control your expressions. Your thoughts show too plainly on your face. I appreciate your honesty, but excessive frankness can become a weakness in life. I worry about you.

“I’m not like that with others.”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing. Please continue.”

Ah. So I followed the deer over the collapsed outer wall. A carpet that had lost its color spread out like a guide among the stone debris. The deer passed me and stepped onto that carpet.

“The first person I met on that path was the Head Butler.”

“Gross?”

“Yes.”

“I never heard about this…”

“Didn’t you find it strange? Everyone disappeared. Rolf who loved the mansion, the Head Butler who wandered the North, Warren who voluntarily entered this snow-covered barren land seeking those who needed him, Mrs. Potts. Even Mike, or rather, Lord Rumie who was Mike, they all vanished.”

“I thought they had all fled. The mansion had collapsed beyond repair, and ‘they’ who had hidden our existence from the world had left this place, seemingly never to return.”

“You’re more indifferent to others than I thought.”

“I won’t deny it.”

“You’re quite quick to admit it.”

“So? What happened next?”

The deer that had guided me there curled up on the floor, having completed its task. The space where Gross stood was difficult to identify as anyone’s room.

The collapsed and tilted floors and walls were chaotically mixed together. But there was one thing that caught my eye.

A massive portrait and a large mirror reflecting it. The frame was filled with the image of a woman wearing a purple dress that I had worn once before.

The Head Butler couldn’t take her eyes off that frame. Somehow, the scene felt familiar. I too looked up at the woman in the frame, completely entranced.

Perhaps due to the shock of the mansion’s collapse, the face in the portrait, fragmented by broken glass, was difficult to recognize.

It was strange. Then suddenly I realized I was still holding handfuls of the fruit.

“I felt there must be a reason.”

There had to be a purpose behind the white deer showing me the fruit and bringing me to them. 

‘Perhaps I’m meant to give this to the Head Butler?’

I wondered.

But how? The Head Butler was so lost in her thoughts that she wouldn’t look elsewhere, and even when I waved my hand in front of her, she couldn’t see it.

Then I discovered it.

‘The mirror.’

I was reflected in the mirror. More precisely, both the Head Butler and I were reflected simultaneously. Suddenly, a passage from a book I had read long ago came to mind.

“Moonlight sometimes reveals hidden letters.”

“Moonlight…”

Right on cue, moonlight poured through the gaping wall.

‘Look at the mirror.’

I wrote on the fogged-up glass of the frame with my breath. Some fruits rolled onto the floor, but I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t think of any other method.

Fortunately, the Head Butler seemed to notice the writing immediately. Her grayish-blue eyes, which had been sunken in gloom, regained life for a moment.

Then she quickly checked the mirror, moving so fast it could have made a sound.

Though no sound came, she raised her finger with a face shocked, appearing to have seen a monster.

“My lady?” She called me with a voice of disbelief, blinking repeatedly. She didn’t know what to do.

“Anyone would have been surprised.”

“What are you saying? In a similar situation, weren’t you overjoyed?”

“Ahem, so what happened next?”

A little later, having regained her composure, the Head Butler tried to approach me with a surprised expression.

But it was a mirror, wasn’t it?

The closer she came to me in the mirror, the further I seemed to recede, until finally I became completely hidden behind her.

Only then did she seem to notice something strange and turned around. But while I could see the Head Butler, she couldn’t see me.

So I moved. I approached the Head Butler. She looked alternately at the mirror and the empty space, then slowly reached out toward the void that both existed and didn’t exist, while looking at the mirror.

That’s how I was able to see one fruit transfer to the Head Butler’s hand through the mirror. Truthfully, even as I gave her the fruit, I had no idea how it would change her.

I couldn’t clearly define whether the white deer was the ancient god you all spoke of, or merely a person transformed by some relic unknown to us, like ourselves.

I admit that at that moment, I prioritized my curiosity over the Head Butler’s safety. The uncertainty of the future compelled me to act, before thinking, before reason.

“Fortunately, not long after eating the fruit, the Head Butler slowly closed her eyes.”

It was a peaceful death. As she fell backward very slowly, her entire life flowed through her eyes. Standing directly in front of her, I inadvertently glimpsed a part of that life…