“You seem to be adapting better than expected. Your horsemanship is quite decent at that level.”
Inside the study of Tildyen Rock’s main castle. Riario sipped warm mulled wine while seated in a velvet chair. Evernight gazed down at the two figures visible through the large window, his face expressionless.
Sisou and Anya were riding side by side toward the castle. The boy who had wandered Tildyen Rock like a ghost now had cheeks brimming with vitality. Like an apple tree that would never grow here.
“Commander, what do you plan to do going forward?”
“About what.”
Riario’s question broke Evernight from his reverie.
“…That person is now a mage. Even if he acts arrogantly, he has become someone you cannot cast out.”
“Why speak in riddles, Death Mage.”
Riario was startled by the dark shadow looming over his right shoulder and jumped up from his chair with a shout.
“Please make some noise when you walk!”
Sabelli burst into hearty laughter while gazing through the glass window. The stable hand was receiving the horses from Anya and Sisou. As the boy dismounted while shaking snow off his hood, his form was quite good, and a smile spread across Sabelli’s lips.
“You… rely too much on magic and neglect your training, which is why you can’t sense such trivial presences. You’ll face serious trouble someday.”
The smile had vanished from his face as he turned toward Riario, as if it had never been there. The old man pulled out a long pipe from within his robes and puffed it alight. The smell of cheap, low-quality tobacco leaves filled the room.
Riario covered his nose and muttered a small curse. Ah, this old man, really. Can’t even hit him.
“What the Death Mage said about needing to consider succession…”
Ring-shaped wisps of white smoke puffed from his mouth as if performing tricks.
“Means things are getting complicated, doesn’t it, Evernight.”
The ring-shaped tobacco smoke floated through the air and arrived right in front of Evernight’s nose. But the smoke scattered quickly, as if fleeing in fear.
Evernight crossed his arms and cast his gaze beyond the glass window.
“There will be no succession. This cursed bloodline ends with me.”
Dark clouds were gathering.
* * *
“Sabelli-nim!”
In the Nameless Forest, near the spirit tree he had arbitrarily named ‘Sleeping Giant,’ Anya had been gathering mana when he snapped his eyes open at the sound of someone approaching. Sabelli was pushing through the bare branches and entering deeper into the forest.
“Any progress, boy?”
Anya immediately deflated and shook his head slightly. He could feel something like energy beneath the damp earth, flowing like a river, but it scattered instantly before gathering into his hands.
“Mages are born with the ability to sense the mana circulating through this land. You must be able to contain it within your body. That is the first rite of passage you must complete.”
Sabelli beckoned Anya to come closer. He pulled out a quill from beneath his sleeve and drew a simple pattern on Anya’s palm.
“Wh-what is this?”
The pattern looked like a strangely shaped drawing. Or perhaps it was a letter.
“It’s an ancient rune. A great legacy left behind by the first mages long ago.”
Anya spread his palm and examined the small symbol etched into it from various angles. It was a language that looked completely different from the common tongue of the empire. Though mages were rare now, it was said that wasn’t always the case.
“B-but why this…”
“The flow of mana is vast and very wild. That’s why it’s extremely difficult to read the flow. You need something to focus on. Like aiming an arrow at a target.”
Sabelli settled near the spirit tree, his robe fluttering. The old man placed his palm on the ground and quietly closed his eyes. Instantly, a cluster of light rippled beneath his hand. The light grew larger and larger until it filled the dark, quiet forest. Anya hurriedly raised his arm to cover his eyes.
“The most basic magic spell. ‘Lightning.’ It’s simply a technique of gathering and releasing mana.”
The tremendous light Sabelli had created vanished without a trace, but its afterimage seemed to linger still. Anya’s heart raced at the wondrous magic.
“If you can succeed at this before you go to the Wall, I will teach you various ways to utilize the flow of mana after you return.”
From then on, Anya devoted himself to gathering mana near the spirit tree every night.
“Hello, Your Highness. Is your training going well?”
One day, Bella poured him warm mulled wine and smiled brightly.
“It is, Bella. We went to the forge together recently.”
Sisou took a wine-filled glass from the seat next to him, handed it to Anya, then downed his own in one gulp.
“Oh my, what a splendid sword.”
Bella covered her mouth and laughed, making a clear sound. The corner of Anya’s mouth twitched and curved into a small arc. He could feel the lower-ranking knights watching him from afar. His shoulders tensed for no reason. Before, he had felt like he was adrift on a vast ocean, but now it was as if someone was shining a light from the distance. Anya gladly accepted the sweet rewards that hard training brought.
“Oh, no!”
But the training was progressing much slower than expected. Sisou said there was no need to rush, but Anya was anxious. He wanted to gather mana in his hands before departing for the Wall. He wanted to stand at the Wall not as the pathetic mistress of Tildyen, but as a great mage.
Despite the cold of the winter forest, beads of sweat formed on Anya’s forehead. The cool air couldn’t quench that heat. Anya wiped the sweat with his robe sleeve and closed his eyes to concentrate again. The rune symbol drawn on his palm seemed to squirm and move. Trying to focus on one spot made it twice as difficult.
“Ah! No…”
Hooo.
Failed again. This time I almost had it. It felt like a chill reminiscent of Tildyen was being sucked into the rune symbol drawn on his palm in an instant. Anya glared with sulky eyes at the owl crying on the branch of the spirit tree. His concentration had been broken because of the creature that suddenly appeared. The owl tilted its head. Its golden eyes looked completely thoughtless.
“W-well, it’s not like you knew any better.”
The owl came down from the tree and toddled over to Anya. Were owls always animals that followed people like this? When he was in Maneregia, the Emperor often held hunting festivals, but Anya had never participated even once. He had no skills, and not even a horse. So aside from the small animals like rabbits or squirrels that used to visit the back garden of the detached palace, this was his first time. Seeing a wild creature like this.
The owl trembled under Anya’s touch as before, expressing satisfaction at the human contact.
“Ugh…”
Anya let out a groan at the sudden pain that came when he bent his fingers to stroke the owl’s feathers. His hand was tingling. It was the result of overworking his body for hours to gather mana.
“I-I got all cocky when I can’t even do this. How p-pathetic…”
Anya looked at the Thawing placed at his feet and the holder Ban had made for him. Pain shot through his fingers every time he bent them, and his whole body felt heavy like water-soaked cotton. At this rate, he might not be able to ride Mil when the day came to go to the Wall. Overwhelmed by self-loathing, Anya flopped down onto the snow. The owl circled around him. Through the canopy created by trees that seemed to be hundreds of years old, he could see the night sky.
‘A mage! So does that mean our Tildyen has two mages now?’
‘Please eat plenty, Your Highness. From what I know, using magic consumes a great deal of stamina.’
‘Your Highness learns faster than anyone. Magic will be the same. Take pride in yourself.’
The changed gazes and sweet words of people from the past few days floated through the night sky.
“I-I have to get up!”
He muttered to himself, but once his body lay on the ground, it wouldn’t easily rise. As his eyes fluttered closed from the accumulated fatigue of the past few days, Anya still wiggled his fingers. The expectant words kept whispering to him, carried by the wind.
Ah… I shouldn’t…
His small mouth opened and closed soundlessly several times before Anya finally surrendered to the overwhelming sleep. His hazel eyes slowly drifted shut, and darkness came instantly. In the quiet night of the forest, the owl circled around the boy in his shallow sleep, hooting softly through the silence.
“……”
After a while, the sound of footsteps on snow was heard. The owl circled around the newly appeared man, rubbing its body against his legs. The man quietly looked down at the boy lying in the middle of the clearing. He lifted the boy who slept like the dead and quietly left the place.
