Bear’s Honey Chapter 13: Farewell to the Past

This is a short story by the same author as Home of the Zerg that I decided to do for my birthday. So I hope you enjoy this birthday release from me.

-Addis

Chapter 13: Farewell to the Past

Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

Editor: KarateChopMonkey

“Ugh…” Alphard’s story was interrupted by a sob. He felt something heavy and wet on his back. Turning quickly, he discovered Brand clinging to his mage robe, crying bitterly. Brand’s tear-streaked face was anything but pretty. Snot and tears mixed together, making a sticky mess all over Alphard’s robe.

“Hey!” Alphard snapped, pushing him away. “Don’t pity me! I don’t need it. I’m doing just fine now.”

Brand wiped his eyes and clumsily tried to explain, “No, that’s not what I meant. It’s just…”

“No ‘just’. No more talking about it.” Alphard decisively stopped him from continuing to discuss his past.

The bard gave a long “Ohhh,” saying, “Such a story indeed merits me offering a resurrection spell. Honestly, hearing this makes me feel sorry. If I could see your mother wake up with my own eyes, that would be very meaningful. We don’t need to trade for the cloning spell; just paying me in gold will do.”

Brand blinked, looking at Alphard with hopeful eyes. If Alphard’s mother could be resurrected, that would be wonderful…!

“…”

The three had reached the attic and were standing in front of the locked storeroom door. Brand’s eyes widened. He knew there was a small room in the attic, right beside the bookshelf on the wall. Alphard had warned him not to go near it, so Brand had never considered what might be inside. Could it be that Alphard’s mother’s body and tombstone were kept here?

Alphard silently placed his hand on the doorknob and paused for a moment. “…One thing at a time. I want you to attempt the resurrection spell. In return, come back in a few years, and I will have learned the cloning spell to create a body for you. I don’t like owing favors,” Alphard said calmly.

In truth, he didn’t have to divulge his entire past story. He didn’t hold out much hope for this resurrection ritual. Subconsciously, he had always avoided this matter, and with mixed feelings, he had suddenly welcomed the bard. Even at this moment, Alphard wasn’t sure what outcome he truly desired.

Brand looked at him with concern. Alphard felt a bit irritated. He had allowed Brand to stay in the Mage Tower. Although he didn’t know if this meant their relationship had changed in some way, Alphard thought he might be able to share some of his past with him. However, Brand was a person who could be charming one moment and annoying the next. Alphard had never found an excuse to talk about his own matters.

Brand’s reaction would certainly make him seem like an idiot begging for sympathy.

“Give it a try? It seems you don’t have much faith in my resurrection spell?” the bard asked, puzzled.

“…Yes. Seeing you makes that clear,” Alphard sighed lightly. He used magic to unlock the sturdy, heavy lock, which creaked as he opened the thick door.

“Cough, cough…” Brand couldn’t help but cough due to the thick dust. This door had clearly not been opened for at least ten years, with dust thick enough to draw pictures on the floor.

Alphard lit a candle. The flame, crafted by his magic, glowed with an eerie blue-green light. He lifted the candlestick and placed it on a high pedestal in the room, ignoring the thick dust, while the hem of his robe dragged a trail across the floor.

Brand, startled, quickly followed and helped lift the hem of Alphard’s robe, holding it in his arms as he bent over. In the middle of the room, on a cabinet, sat a beautiful urn. Brand glanced at Alphard standing before it and took a moment to realize what it was, hastily bowing towards it and silently greeting Alphard’s mother in his heart.

“This…” The bard finally understood, looking helplessly at the urn.

“Is it not possible?” Brand asked nervously.

“It’s a bit difficult. In this case, the soul might already be…”

Alphard remained silent for a moment before softly responding with a sigh, “I know that a resurrection spell works best with a relatively intact body. A departed soul tends to linger around its remains… but by the time I returned to the village, she was already charred. I only managed to collect these.”

Moreover, it had been too long since his mother had died. If it were a fresh corpse, even a severed hand would have been enough to attempt the spell. But after decades, the likelihood of the soul still existing was almost zero.

Brand let out a muffled “Ah,” glancing at the bard and then back at Alphard. Knowing nothing about magic, he felt utterly helpless. Showing concern would only anger Alphard, so Brand stood anxiously to the side, looking around restlessly. After all, if there had been a chance of resurrection, Alphard would have long devoted all his efforts and resources to finding a cleric… 

Brand glanced at Alphard’s seemingly indifferent expression. Had Alphard anticipated failure and thus avoided and delayed this matter?

—As long as he hadn’t faced the outcome, there was still a possibility.

However, Alphard felt it was time to put an end to his past story. He glanced at Brand, saying nothing, then turned to the bard, “Don’t worry about it. Start preparing. The necessary magical materials are in the cabinet, and there’s enough gold and gems.”

The bard, sensing the room’s pervasive despair and sorrow, shrugged. He had seen all sorts of things during his travels. Turning, he began setting up the altar for the resurrection ritual, his movements smooth and practiced.

Seeing this, Alphard confirmed that the bard indeed knew how to perform the resurrection spell, dispelling his last bit of doubt.

“Alphard…” Standing at the storeroom door, Brand hesitated, struggling to find the right words. His tail quietly emerged from behind, gently poking the palm of Alphard’s hand.

He expected a harsh glare and possibly some scolding from Alphard, but surprisingly, Alphard didn’t express any displeasure. After a few seconds of stiffness, he lightly grasped the tip of Brand’s tail, shook it twice as if shaking hands, and then threw it away forcefully.

“Don’t mess around. If you’re tired, go hibernate,” Alphard said coldly.

“At a time like this!? How could I sleep! I want to stay with you…” Brand called out softly, pressing his lips together as he stood close beside Alphard. Because of the body heat when Brand got close, Alphard felt irritated and moved a step to the side.

Determined to “comfort” poor little Alphard today, Brand was undeterred and quickly scooted closer again.

The bard, having finished setting up the ritual altar, turned around and saw Alphard, looking irritable and helpless, cornered by the large demon who was hugging his arms and twitching his eyelids.

“Is this your special way of being close?” the bard asked with a wry smile.

“Don’t mind it.”

“Exactly!”

Alphard and Brand spoke in unison, though with different tones.

“……” They both turned to look at each other.

“Alright, alright… I’ll pretend I didn’t see anything,” the bard raised his hands and sighed. “I can start the ritual now. But I must tell you, I can hardly sense any lingering soul. If the ritual fails, all these magical items, gold, and gems will be reduced to ashes. This is a necessary expense. Are you sure you want to proceed?”

“You talk too much. Just do it, no more nonsense,” Alphard confirmed, still hugging his arms.

Locking everything away in this dusty little storeroom wouldn’t achieve anything. Using it all up and letting everything turn to ashes with the magic was a good choice.

If he hadn’t made up his mind, he wouldn’t have been able to spill his rotten past completely.

Once the ritual failed, he could have Brand clean out this room and transform the roof into a glass ceiling, turning it into a greenhouse or something. As for the exact method and craftsmanship, Alphard didn’t care to think about it.

This would be one of Brand’s jobs. With his abundant energy, Alphard figured he needed to find something for him to do after his hibernation.

“Alphard…”

“What now?” Alphard felt Brand getting closer and closer, almost squishing him between the wall and his body. He couldn’t help but glare at him with a hint of hostility.

However, Brand seemed oblivious to it all, instead reaching out nervously and grabbing Alphard’s hand, holding it tightly in his own large hands. He looked at Alphard with a mixture of shock and embarrassment, trying to convey comfort and reassurance through the tight grip.

“I… I’ll be here with you. Don’t be nervous, everything will be fine…” Brand’s words were clumsy, but his grip was firm.

The likelihood of everything being fine was zero. Alphard glanced at the hand holding his. Brand’s palm was warm; this hand had intimately caressed Alphard’s penis countless times, but holding hands like this was a first. It felt a bit ambiguous to Alphard. Holding hands was much more intimate than having sex.

“I’m not nervous. I don’t know why you’re fussing over nothing. Mind your own business,” Alphard said coldly, but he didn’t pull away from Brand.

Brand had gradually learned that when Alphard was nervous or concerned, his words would sound harsher. But he didn’t mind, smiling foolishly and swallowing nervously, looking at the bard who was busy with his wand.

In the room where the ritual circle was being drawn, Alphard stood quietly. For this long-awaited yet doomed resurrection ritual, he had neither expectations nor despair. With Brand’s annoyingly comforting presence, he quietly began the belated, formal farewell in his heart.