# Chapter 85
Arden thought that in a city the size of Idelven, the knights would conduct regular patrols.
“That’s the knight uniform, right?”
“Yeah… probably.”
Fortunately, Kaiyu was blocking their view. Arden stuck his head out from beside Kaiyu’s waist and observed them. There were four of them. He couldn’t see their faces clearly, but judging from the absence of the sun hawk brooch on their chests and the design of their uniforms, they were newcomers. They were all carrying wooden flasks, though he wasn’t sure what for.
Design? Arden realized something strange and narrowed his eyes. His vision wasn’t good enough to see clearly, but something was definitely different.
“Wow. How long has it been since they’ve come? The last time I saw them was when I was seven or eight, I think.”
“I was seven…”
“Then eight must have been the last time.”
“Don’t they come regularly?”
Arden asked the siblings in a lowered voice. Kaiyu answered in an equally soft voice that they did. Corol, regardless, maintained her usual cheerful tone.
“They seemed to come more often when we were little. I haven’t seen them since I was nine. Wow, living in Moran would mean seeing knights almost every day.”
What would cause them to be dispatched so suddenly? Arden removed his hat and looked in the direction where the knights had disappeared.
The design of the knight uniforms was different. To be precise, they were wearing the uniform from before the change that had happened four years ago, not the current design.
* * *
“In all my days, you’re the first client to ask me to make perfume.”
“There’s always a first time for everything.”
“And for free, no less.”
Aigle looked down at Rite with piercing eyes. Rite, unaffected, continued diligently writing his order form.
“Isn’t a dragon scale too much to pay for perfume?”
“A student asking his magic teacher to make perfume is even more excessive.”
“You said you’ve made fragrances before.”
“That’s because the fragrance was incidental! I accepted it because the main purpose was magic!”
“Then I’ll incidentally add some magic to it.”
Aigle trembled with her arms as if she had been greatly insulted. Seeing this, Rite let out a small laugh.
“If you make it to my liking, I’ll give you one scale.”
“Really?”
“If I like it.”
“You’re planning to just say you don’t like it no matter what, aren’t you?”
“I’m a person of conscience.”
With those words, he handed over the order form he’d been writing. Aigle accepted the paper, still suspicious.
“Why is this fragrance so complicated? I’ve never made anything this complex before. Can’t we go with a simple scent like rose or lemon?”
“Then forget about the scale…”
“Fine! Alright! I’ll try!”
What time do I have for this? She should focus on learning what I’m teaching… Aigle muttered as she moved away. She buried her nose in the order form as if she would be sucked into it, waving her fingers in the air. At her gesture, a book flew toward Rite.
“You read this. I’ll test you on it later, so memorize it.”
Rite raised one eyebrow as he opened the book. Theory lessons weren’t fun. Who would enjoy having to memorize and calculate numerous formulas just to draw a single magic circle?
When he protested about whether he really needed to know this, Aigle kindly explained:
‘Magic is much more powerful when there’s a medium. Like a magic circle or a magical tool.’
‘What if there’s no time to draw a magic circle?’
‘Then you compete with the amount of magical energy or overwhelm with the volume and speed of magic you cast. It’s the difference between hitting once with a hammer or poking a hundred times with a skewer.’
Wouldn’t poking a hundred times be better? Since Artalis created me, my skewer should be as good as others’ hammers. Rite thought as he turned the page. The book contained nothing but information about magic circles and was not interesting. He couldn’t understand it either. Rite glanced at Aigle. His teacher was busy sniffing flowers and various substances.
Rite casually rolled his eyes. He found the most interesting-looking book among those on the shelf. “Advanced Magic” – the title itself was intriguing. Following the movement of his purple eyes, a thick book floated up and landed on Rite’s desk.
As Rite expected, the book contained many interesting spells. Hallucination, delirium, madness – Rite turned the pages one by one, looking for information that might be useful to him.
“…Aigle, what’s this?”
“Hm? Something you don’t understand?”
Aigle, who had been pouring blue powder into a beaker, turned to look at Rite. When she saw the book in his hands, she frowned.
“Why are you reading that? I told you there would be a test on… Oh. That’s not allowed.”
Aigle, who had been approaching with the expression of a strict teacher, shook her head.
“Why? You don’t know how to do it?”
“No, that’s not the issue. This is…”
Aigle bit her lip, contemplating, then shook her head.
“Alright. I can explain it since you asked. To put it simply, it’s about twisting time.”
“It says here that it’s a healing magic that even materialization magicians can use?”
“It’s nice to call it healing magic, but strictly speaking, it’s not healing but reversing time.”
Aigle grabbed Rite’s right arm, placed it on the book, and ran her finger across it.
“Let’s say you were injured like this. Then you turn back the time of the skin on this arm. Back to before it was injured.”
“That’s healing, in effect.”
“Since the time of each part of the body becomes different, there are many concerns about side effects.”
“By concerns, you mean…”
“It means we don’t know yet.”
Aigle shrugged. Rite didn’t back down.
“Why?”
“Usually, the only place where treatment is worth such a risk is the battlefield. Those patients either die before we can observe the progression, or they suffer from various other issues that make it unclear what caused what. The conclusion is that since no one who has had their time twisted has remained perfectly fine, it’s difficult to use on ordinary patients.”
Rite closed his mouth at Aigle’s explanation. Just as Arden had said he would prioritize Rite’s safety, Rite also needed a means to protect Arden. But could he use such a dangerous magic on Arden?
“Ah, there is one definite side effect.”
“What is it?”
“The head. If used on the head, memories disappear accordingly. You even forget where you were injured. That would be fortunate. Depending on the condition, it might reverse several years. How shocking would that be for the person? ‘I was definitely a fifteen-year-old child, but now I’m on a battlefield.'”
At those words, Rite had a slightly different thought. What if I could erase Arden’s memories of my past self? If so, would Arden love me in the same way I love him?
* * *
What is this?
Arden stared blankly at the object that had fallen out of Rite’s bag. His eyes were wary, as if he were holding poison.
He had discovered the glass bottle while tidying up the bag that had been strewn across the floor while Rite was away washing.
The unidentified bottle containing clear, deep blue liquid was obviously an ordinary perfume to anyone who looked at it. That was precisely the problem. Why would such a thing come out of Rite’s bag?
Rite didn’t have any money to speak of. Since Arden hadn’t given him any, that was certain. So if it wasn’t purchased, it must have been received… But Rite had mostly been with him, so there hadn’t been an opportunity to receive gifts. Except when he went to the magician’s house for lessons.
It wasn’t hard to guess who might have given it to him.
“…She told me it wouldn’t suit me.”
Startled by his own sudden muttering, he flinched. Then, hearing approaching footsteps, he stuffed the perfume back into the bag. At the same moment, the door opened, and the scent of soap wafted in strongly.
“What are you doing?”
“…Nothing. Just saw your bag had fallen.”
“You could have left it… Oh.”
Rite, who had been shaking his wet hair while responding, stopped. He picked up the bag and rummaged through it. After confirming that the item he was looking for was safely there, he carefully placed the bag on a chair. Like someone with something precious inside.
“What are you looking for?”
“Just checking something.”
He didn’t seem inclined to answer. Arden tried to speak in his usual voice.
“Have you become close with Aigle?”
“Close?”
“You know, fellow magicians might have a lot in common.”
“…Not at all.”
He retorted curtly, as if recalling an unpleasant memory, then collapsed face-down on the bed. His blinking gradually slowed until he seemingly fell asleep, no longer opening his eyes. These days, Rite would fall asleep as soon as he lay on the bed.
Arden’s resentment melted away like snow, replaced by concern. Though he couldn’t claim to have raised Rite perfectly, he could proudly say he had tried to raise him without making him suffer. That’s how precious he was.
All Arden could do was entrust him to someone else and wait. Sometimes that felt frustrating and anxious. Looking at Rite, who was steeped in exhaustion, Arden realized one thing: that Rite must be far more frustrated and anxious than he was.
Is he scared? Does he have regrets? Is learning a new field purely exciting, or is it arduous?
What happened today, what did he learn, and how did it make him feel? Arden had many questions and much he wanted to hear. Still, his role was to quietly wait for Rite, who was likely more impatient than himself.
Arden approached Rite’s bed and lowered himself. Rite was lying face down with his head turned to the side. Perhaps because Idelven nights were hot, he wasn’t wearing a top, and his bare arm dangled off the bed.
Carefully, Arden took the hanging arm and placed it back on the bed, then brushed aside the bangs that were poking Rite’s eyes.
His hair had grown during that time. This was the first time Arden had looked at his face up close since Rite had returned home. His brow bone seemed much more prominent, and his lips, slightly parted from breathing, looked far more mature than before.
He looked just like an oil painting with lots of mixed oils. It felt like examining a portrait that a painter had created with all their dedication, deliberating over every brush stroke.
The white cheeks, smooth forehead, and prettily shaped nose were all nice, but what Arden liked most was…
“…Are you awake? Sorry.”
“……”
The small, subtle lights reflected on the surface of those purple irises looked just like stars in the night sky. Arden loved watching stars. He loved stars that, though they seemed to move, would shine again in their own places after time passed. Stars that had existed before he was born would continue to shine even after his death. For a long time, countless people would look up at those stars, immersed in various thoughts, and pass stories about the stars to future generations. He liked those aspects. Facing the stars with the sky in between made everything feel calm.
Rite’s eyes were like that too.
“Go back to sleep.”
Just as he was about to withdraw his outstretched hand, a large hand wrapped around his wrist. The warm body temperature was felt through the skin. That hot hand pulled Arden toward him.
