“H-h-hey now, you’re clearly exaggerating,” they countered, looking away and placing a hand on their cheek. “That’s overboard, even for flattery… Okay, so listen, this is what I’m saying…” Their discussion continued unabated, even when they arrived in Estosha and made it to their lodging. Since they were staying in separate rooms, they would have to drop the conversation. They’d arrived at the doors to their rooms just as Ix was launching into a fervent explanation as to why Shuno’s idea was so valuable. “All right, Ix, we’ll have to pick this up again tomorrow,” said Shuno, pointing a finger at him. “I’m not going to let this end while you’re ahead.” “Just give up already.” He shook his head. “Assuming you’re understanding what I’m saying, you should realize by now that you’re the genius here.” “Hmph. Well, whatever. You can think that for now. Tomorrow, I’m going to give such a good argument that you won’t be able to refute the fact that it’s you who’s the brilliant one.” “I have no idea what makes you think you’ll be able to do that.” “What did you just say?” The pair stood there, hands on the doorknobs of their respective rooms, glaring at each other. Behind them, another guest passed by with a look of bewilderment. 5 In the end, their discussion stopped there because they shifted to a different topic the next day. The monastery had arranged for Ix and Shuno to stay in a cheap inn, but it was run by a friendly elderly couple who kept the rooms spotless. Ix went to bed early after doing some routine maintenance on his tools. But in the time between him closing his eyes and actually falling asleep, he came up with a perfect counterargument. At first, he thought he would just bring it up with Shuno the next day, but he couldn’t hold back the urge to say something now. They were probably still up now anyway. With that in mind, he moved to the door of his room. Just when he was about to leave, a knock came from the other side. There stood Shuno, having had the exact same thought. Both of them pointed out flaws in the other’s argument, so they were unable to reach a conclusion. But that discussion lit a fire beneath a different debate, which continued until dawn broke. By the time they realized it, the two of them were collapsed on the floor, rays from the sunrise filtering through the window. A thin morning mist shrouded the world. The brisk outside air roused them as they walked to the monastery. A thin layer of snow coated the ground, and their feet left clear tracks as they traveled. The sounds of labor greeted the pair at their destination; the day had already begun at the monastery. “You don’t have to bring the monks here today,” Shuno told Beter, who was waiting for them at the entrance. “We did our measurements yesterday. We’ll check them again once we finish our designs, but we’ll work on our own until then.” “Understood.” Beter nodded. “By the way, it seems he’s arrived today.” “Huh? Who?” asked Shuno. “The, um, craftsman.” “…Oh, right. We were supposed to have a real wandmaker here. Urgh… H-hey, Ix, you seem a bit nervous. I’m not, though. Not at all.” “No, I’m not really anxious,” replied Ix. “Oh man, you really do put on a brave face. It’s actually pretty reassuring.” After being led to the same room as the day before, they started working on designs. The two apprentices brought several tables together to form a simple work surface, since the designs for a staff were normally made on large sheets of paper that were formed by attaching several smaller sheets together. Here they would jot down details and determine the final structure of the staffs. The general design for each was already set, but they needed to iron out the details. You didn’t need any of the ideas or inventions like the ones they’d developed the day before for this process—it was just moving your hand and filling the page. Long ago, craftsmen wouldn’t do this sort of preparation. Most of them would just take the materials and jump right into forging the final product. In those days, lack of planning was proof of your skill as a craftsman. But in modern wandmaking theory, it wasn’t possible to make a wand without a design first. The principles of crafting wands had advanced to the point where you needed to do tricky calculations and construct elaborate conduits. It was impossible to handle all that in your head. Ix worked in silence. He realized he was becoming absorbed in his task, and when his hand stopped moving, he felt like he’d forgotten to breathe the entire time. After listening for a few seconds to the crackle of the fire and the sound of a pencil on paper, he would turn back to his work. Beter made an appearance before the lunch bell rang. Even though Ix had been at it all morning, he didn’t have much of a design yet. It was taking longer than usual. He realized that for all his ability to focus, he’d been doing a lot of roundabout calculations. “You must be tired,” said Beter. “We have prepared lunch for you in the cafeteria, though it’s just a simple dish.” “Huh, so you do a full three meals a day here?” said Shuno. “It’s important to eat enough to complete your work. But before that, I wanted to let you know that he’s finally arrived.” “Huh? Who?” “The craftsman.” “…Oh, right! You did mention that.” “I’ll go get him now. Please wait here a moment,” Beter said before leaving the chamber. Shuno slowly turned to Ix. “Wh-what do we do?” “You forgot again?” asked Ix. “N-no way, I’ve been waiting on pins and needles for him to get here. You’re the one who’s worried, Ix—that’s you. Are you okay?” “Why wouldn’t I be?” Not long after that, Beter returned. Behind him was a small elderly man. “Let me introduce you to Mr. Coaku Shtah. He runs a wand shop in Estosha,” announced Beter. Then he pointed to the two apprentices and said, “This is Shuno and Ix. They aren’t full-fledged craftspeople yet, but they’re skilled enough to have received Declarations of Equivalency. They’ve already begun working.” The old man’s face was serene. He peered out of nearly closed eyes from behind his round spectacles. He was short enough that Ix had to look down at him, and his legs must have been weak because he walked with a cane. His outfit and hat were spotless. He looked less like a wandmaker and more like an elderly gentleman. “I-I’m pleased to meet you,” said Shuno, while Ix bowed. “Yes, yes, very pleased indeed to meet you two,” said Coaku as he took off his hat and held it in front of his chest. His tone was just as warm as his appearance suggested. Coaku held out a small hand, and the two of them each shook it. “They call me a craftsman, but I’m half-retired anyway, so no need to feel nervous.” “Ah, no, it’s fine…” Shuno gave a big wave. “Uh…are there more than six monks? We’ve already sort of started the designs for the staffs, Master Coaku…” “Oh, no worries. I don’t plan on doing much,” the craftsman responded. “I’ve asked to just oversee your work. I don’t think an old fart like me can do much anyway. Just think of me as a flower in a vase or a good luck charm.” “I—I appreciate it… Ha-ha-ha!” Shuno smiled before their face instantly turned grim as they came close to Ix and whispered, “So we’re going to have an experienced craftsman staring at us the whole time?” “That’s reassuring,” said Ix. “R-right, totally…” Coaku apologized for arriving late. Apparently, he’d been asked to help with something in Estosha and found someone to substitute for him only yesterday. “Well, just think of me as someone you can come to for advice on wands. At my age, you can’t just give up on things because you’ve got a prior arrangement.” He rubbed his head with his hand. The little hair he had left was white, and the top of his head was completely bald. “You found a replacement without any issue?” asked Shuno. “I did. They were nearby and studied under someone I knew a long time ago. Should be good for the job.” Ix listened silently to Shuno and Coaku chatting. He was wondering if he should tell the craftsman that he’d apprenticed under Munzil, but he couldn’t think of how to say it, and he wasn’t sure it would make a difference if he brought it up. He’d probably just wonder why Ix bothered telling him. In the end, Ix held his tongue, and the conversation drew to a close. “Now then, I’m going to say hello to the abbot,” said Coaku with a bow. “Will we be in this room again in the afternoon?” “Y-yes,” said Shuno with a nod. “I shall see you both again, then.” “I will show you the way,” offered Beter as he opened the door. As the two left, Shuno sighed and muttered, “I can’t believe Coaku really came.” But Ix didn’t hear. On the other side of the doorway that Beter and Coaku were exiting through stood a small figure. Ix hadn’t been able to see her from behind the two men beforehand. She pointed to herself. “I’m his assistant.” That’s what Riess said before chasing after Beter and Coaku with light footsteps. The sound of her running was blotted out by the chime of the noon bell. 6 Shuno had some cleaning up to do, so Ix headed off to get lunch first on his own. The dining hall was already filled with monks. They were lined up neatly on the benches that ran on either side of the rows of long tables. Ix even saw the man who’d been pushing the book cart the day before. Even now, he was still wearing his rags, so Ix couldn’t make out his face. There wasn’t one word of conversation in the cafeteria, just the clinking of utensils against dishes. Everyone received the exact same amount of food, and dishes had already been set out, each with a single serving. There were exactly as many plates as there were monks. Ix didn’t feel like sitting with the brothers, so he took his meal to the courtyard instead. Not only did he feel out of place in the dining hall, but it seemed like even choking would be frowned upon there. He didn’t think he could get used to the silence. Besides, the monastery rules didn’t apply to him anyway. A cutting wind assailed his cheeks once Ix exited the back door of the cafeteria. He headed down the path under the eaves and sat in a place that looked as good enough as any. The sun lit up the silver fields in the distance. As he tore off a piece of bread and brought it to his mouth, a shadow suddenly fell into his view. “Hello.” His gaze met a pair of blank eyes. It was Riess. She was bent over, looking at him, a plate just like Ix’s in her hands. “Can I sit with you?” she asked. “Don’t mind,” he replied, expressionless. Riess passed in front of him and sat to his left. “It’s really bright here,” she remarked, squinting against the glare from the snow and raising a hand above her eyes. “Doesn’t it bother you?” “Not particularly.” “Really…? Maybe it’s because you’re taller,” murmured Riess, standing up to test her hypothesis. “No, that’s not any better. It’s still bright. Maybe I’m just sensitive to light? Or you’re insensitive? What do you think?” “Both options mean the same thing,” replied Ix immediately. “What a great answer.” Riess sat back down again, then looked up at Ix and said, “Nope, I don’t think that’s the kind of thing a monk would say.” “What do you mean?” “In other words, they’re thinking about God.” Ix didn’t know what the “in other words” was referring to, but he kept listening without saying anything. Words spilled from the girl’s mouth. He knew another child who conversed in a similar fashion, though their words leaped in a slightly different way. “Because God decides if something is considered bright or not,” continued Riess in almost a whisper. “Everyone living in the monastery uses God as their point of reference. Or at least they’re trying to find God in everything. But you’re not. You don’t think in those terms, do you?” “Is that a question?” “No, sorry. It doesn’t matter what you think, that’s just what I’ve decided in my head.” “…Are you Coaku’s apprentice?” asked Ix, changing the subject. “I told you, didn’t I? I’m his assistant.” “Did he tell you my name?” “Yep.” “And did he tell you to meet me at the station?” “I just did that because I was curious.” “So he’s heard of me?” “Yeah. But he doesn’t have to bring it up. Or do you want him to? If you do, I can ask him to.” “…No, it’s fine.” The conversation stopped there, and they ate in silence. Riess sat with her knees bent, chewing away at some bread with her small mouth. Even though Ix had learned who she was and how she knew his name, she still had a mysterious aura about her. Why was she talking to him so much? Around the time they were clearing their dishes, there was a commotion from inside the monastery. Ix hadn’t heard a bell ring, but he supposed the noise meant it was the end of lunch. When he stood up, though, he heard a shout. “Ah, so that’s where you ran off to! Why are you eating outside? You should have said something to me.” Shuno emerged from the back of the dining hall and headed over. “I was looking for you, you know. Thought you might be lonely.” “You ate inside?” asked Ix. “Yeah. All by myself in silence.” Shuno put their hands on their hips. “But anyway, could you hear the noise from out here, too? What do you think’s going on?” “…I just thought it was the afternoon bell.” “It wasn’t.” Shuno grinned. “Do you remember what Beter said? About the ghost?” “What about it?” Ix tilted his head. “The ghost showed up, is what I’m saying.” “Huh?” “Wow, it’s not often I see emotions on your face. I knew you’d be surprised.” “No, I honestly just don’t get what you’re saying. Who saw this spirit?” “Well, it’s not that anyone saw it… Right, I should start from the beginning,” said Shuno, playing with their bangs. “It just happened a second ago. I gave up looking for you and started eating lunch. The abbot, Coaku, and Beter were there, too. Since it was so late, they were the last three people to get their food. The thing is, there were only two servings left.” “…And?” Ix furrowed his brow. “You can’t be trying to say that a specter took the food?” “That’s exactly what they’re saying happened.” Shuno nodded gravely. “They prepare the exact number of servings they need for the number of people who are in the monastery. It’s impossible for them to be short. Which is why this quiet bunch is making a huge racket. They say there’s a ghost mixed in with the people and causing trouble.” “They probably just got the number of people eating wrong. Maybe they forgot to include the guests.” “That’s what I thought, too. But they insist they took all the visitors into account and made enough for everyone. Apparently, they’ve never once miscounted and made the incorrect amount of food.” Shuno held up a finger and continued. “Besides, there’s one other problem.” “What’s that?” “The lay brothers who ran off, the ones Beter told us about. They said they saw the ghost in the same place, in the kitchen. That’s the other reason everyone’s freaking out. The abbot’s trying to get the place back under control.” Ix nodded now that he had the full picture, but he still didn’t think it was a real issue. It was just a couple of coincidences coming together, and no real harm had been done. Was a missing serving of food really something to make a big fuss over? Unless… Perhaps there’s some legend about ghosts in the building or in town? That thought struck Ix. A city this old was bound to have a few tales. But this was a monastery. They wouldn’t allow such rumors, not openly at least, which could explain their reaction. When he thought about it like that, it made how Beter talked yesterday seem strange. Ix didn’t have a single shred of evidence to back this up, though. It was just speculation. If there was a local legend, Riess would probably know a lot about it. Just as he thought to ask her about it, he found that she’d disappeared from his side. She must have left after she finished eating. “Hmm? You got something over there?” asked Shuno, looking confused as they peered beside Ix. 7 They were supposed to start working with Coaku that afternoon, but the man made no move to do any work. He just said, “Don’t overdo it, you two,” before sitting down in a cloth-covered chair near the fireplace. He didn’t move a muscle after that. Since he was facing away from their worktable, there was no way he would be able to check their progress. Ix and Shuno kept shooting him glances, but his white-haired head remained bowed. What was the old man doing? The occasional snores they heard made it obvious that he was sleeping at least some of the time. That was how their day passed. Coaku had given them neither words of advice nor warning. Rising to his feet in time with the evening bell, he said, “I shall see you tomorrow, then,” and left, without ever even glancing at their designs. The two apprentices had been wondering how harsh the craftsman’s evaluation would be, but now they felt somewhat underwhelmed, or maybe a bit discouraged. “The heck was that about?” Shuno muttered spontaneously, standing there bewildered with Ix. Coaku was exactly the same the next day. He didn’t lift a finger. Ix and Shuno discussed among themselves what they should do and agreed that the only real conclusion was to accept how things were and push on with the job. Pretending as if the silent elderly man wasn’t there, they continued with their original plans. Thus began their days of going back and forth between Estosha and the monastery. Ix found the quiet of the monastery suited him more than he’d imagined. From the moment he rose in the morning to the moment his head hit the pillow at night, he thought of nothing but wands. Leirest was a pretty similar environment, but he had to do chores around the shop, since he was just a lodger there. But here, there was nothing to get in the way of wandmaking. There was literally no background noise. He just needed to focus on the materials in front of him. Every wandmaker must have dreamed of crafting in a place like this. Their work continued unabated for ten days, at which point the staff designs were complete. They hadn’t aimed to finish at the same time, but as it happened, both Shuno and Ix finalized them in tandem. Small problems cropped up during the design phase, as was to be expected, but Ix managed to draw on a combination of his experience and knowledge to work out all the kinks. Next, he would at last begin to actually craft the staffs. Not only did he feel confident from how well everything had gone until now, but he was also enjoying the assignment. That struck him as strange. When he brought that up to Shuno, they looked at him inquisitively. “What about that is weird?” they asked. “Well, it’s just…” Ix brought a hand to his mouth. “Wandmaking is a means to make a living for me. That’s the only thing I can do. Obviously, I get excited when I see rare materials and I even sometimes get a sense of satisfaction from my work, but that’s not why I do the job. So—” “You’re always so complicated,” said Shuno with a sigh, turning back to their worktable. Today as usual, they left the monastery and returned to the inn, where they picked up their conversation in Shuno’s room. The floor was littered with detailed notes and writing utensils, so there was barely a place for the two of them to step. “Forget about that—look here,” said Shuno, holding out a scrap of paper they’d scribbled something on. “I finished fixing it. It’s just like I said before. If you go along with this calculation, you can push down the transmission efficiency attenuation to two percent. It can have a more widespread application.” “You missed something important.” Ix glanced at the note and pointed to one spot. “You can cut down on this waste so you don’t have to worry about leakage. That should bring the attenuation down to one percent.” “Oh, you’re right… No, wait. Can you really use it if you do that? Remember, we talked about this the day before yesterday…” Shuno got on the ground and shuffled through the scattered papers. “Huh? It’s not here. Is it in the other room?” “Who knows…” While the argument they’d had on the day they met was trivial, their subsequent discussions had led to a variety of debates on all sorts of topics. The primary theme, however, revolved entirely around wandmaking techniques. They chatted while walking to and from the monastery, while they were eating, and basically every other spare moment when they weren’t working. Once they returned to their lodgings, Ix would find topic after topic he wanted to discuss, and he’d knock on Shuno’s door. They would often come over to Ix’s room as well. Neither of them could remember whose room was whose at this point. Both were equally messy, and since their debates continued until they passed out from exhaustion, they would sleep in the same room together every night. Now that he thought about it, Ix realized he’d never spoken to someone in the same position as Shuno. Everyone in his life was either a craftsman one or two steps ahead of him or a customer. When it came to talking about wandmaking, he was either being taught or doing the teaching. This was his first time having a peer he could debate with on even footing. Though it might be going too far to say they were on equal ground. Ix was keenly aware that he was the one learning more often than not. After being with Shuno for days on end, his belief in their genius had only solidified. Their imaginative capacity was leaps and bounds ahead of Ix’s, and though the things they said sounded strange at first, they eventually made a lot of sense. How had they developed that mindset? On the other hand, Shuno wasn’t very knowledgeable about wandmaking theory for some reason. Or rather, you could say that they knew about as much as your average craftsman; it was just that Ix’s volume of knowledge overwhelmed Shuno’s. “So, back to our previous conversation,” said Shuno, looking at Ix. “The one about bypassing the conduit? Or the one about variable techniques?” “No, not those. The one where you said it was weird that you enjoyed crafting.” Shuno rested their chin on their hands and glanced outside, where it was growing dark. The window was open. Their rooms were on the second floor, and they could clearly see the roof of the building on the opposite side of the street. “I guess that does happen—people become craftsmen even if it’s not something they want for themselves. So you started working without any sort of reason or goal in mind, and you’ve just kept going. I guess you could call that strange, right?” “Were you different? You weren’t put into an apprenticeship when you were a child or anything, were you?” “Me? I… Yeah, I decided to become an apprentice myself.” “Did you have a reason for doing that? Or a goal…? Like wanting to craft the ultimate wand or something?” “The ultimate wand? You’re bringing up Rednoff again?” Shuno frowned every time someone brought up that name. But they were staying in Estosha, so Rednoff was bound to come up every once in a while. “That was just an example. It’s not like I think the ultimate wand actually exists,” replied Ix. “You don’t? Well, that’s interesting, too. I thought it was normal for all craftsmen, apprentices or not, to study as hard as they can because they’ve got the ultimate wand in their sights. Is that not the case for you, Ix?” He couldn’t find an answer. He’d never considered it before. Shuno was right—all craftsmen aimed for the ultimate wand. That’s why they polished their skills and increased their knowledge. But had he ever really thought of doing that himself…? “But really, what is the ultimate wand?” asked Ix with a tilt of his head. “What would be the criteria by which you determine that? Function? Or the materials you use to make it? Say…if you forge a wand with a dragon heart, would that make it the ultimate wand?” “A dragon heart? I didn’t realize you had some childish wonder in you, Ix,” teased Shuno with amusement before continuing. “You know, though, one thing that’s certain is that Rednoff was a genius. In those days, the era of natural wands, there was no such thing as a wandmaker, just woodcutters picking up branches. And magic was so weak that you’d barely even need someone to craft wands. Yet despite the conditions at the time, a single man found a way of recreating artificial ‘life’ in the sticks that had been cut. With the birth of man-made wands, craftsmen appeared, with the woodcutters becoming the first ones. I’ve said it before, but someone that good might truly have made the ultimate wand.” “You really admire him,” said Ix. “It’s not that I admire him. I’m just calling him what he is. Incredible.” “But wandmaking’s already started to make distinctions between wands and staffs, and they each have their pros and cons. It’s theoretically infeasible to create a wand or staff that excels in all areas of casting.” “Just think about it, Ix. It’s only been a couple hundred years since Rednoff created the first man-made catalyst. The techniques and tools we use to make things that have been around forever—like houses, swords, or fire—aren’t even close to their ‘ultimate’ form. If you look at wands in the long term like that, don’t you think someone down the line will come up with a revolutionary theory that we’ve got no chance of developing in our time? We can’t conceive of it with our current understanding of things.” “But—” “Besides, Ix,” interjected Shuno, holding up a finger and smiling, “there’s no point in speculating about what the ultimate wand would be.” “Why do you think that?” “Well, defining the ultimate wand would be the same as making it, don’t you think?” Their flippant remark caught Ix completely off guard. Shuno was absolutely spot-on. But if that was the case… “That’s it…,” said Ix. “Uh, what is?” “The true nature of the ‘ultimate wand’ Rednoff left behind. For man-made wands to develop, you would absolutely need a buildup of theories, along with further innovation. The invention of various tools has allowed us to obtain quantitative measurements which, in the past, were gathered with our senses. This has greatly increased the precision of our craft. So if Rednoff did leave something resembling an ultimate wand behind, it wouldn’t be an actual catalyst but rather its design. Perhaps it’s not even as concrete as a design—maybe it’s just the definition or idea of the ultimate wand.” “That’s…a perspective I hadn’t considered until now.” Shuno nodded seriously. “Anyone’s free to theorize about things, but no individual can brush aside the limitations of technology. Like, if you wanted to pass hundreds of flow lines through an area the size of your fingertip… You’re right. You know what, I think you’re really on to something. Come to think of it, it’s really strange that a craftsman on Rednoff’s level didn’t leave any technical documents behind… That’s fascinating. Ix, that’s really, really fascinating!” “Not like I have any proof for this theory, though…” “But your idea is way more realistic than some baseless legend! Man, why didn’t I think of that…?” Inspiration seemed to have struck, so Shuno grabbed a random piece of paper off the floor, then scribbled something in the margins. Then they gave a nod of satisfaction. “Looks like our conversation veered off course all of a sudden,” said Shuno, peering over the sheet of paper at Ix. “Where were we before? Uhhh… Oh yeah. My goal as a craftsman, right?” “Yeah, there was that,” said Ix in agreement, though he wondered why they had to go that far back in the conversation. “Well, that’s, um.” Shuno crossed their arms. “I do have one, of course, but, hmm, should I tell you? I’ve never talked about it with anyone before.” “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” “But, I mean, you’re curious, aren’t you? I don’t mind telling you if you’re interested.” “You sure? Even though you’ve never told anyone before?” “But it’s you, so it’s different.” Shuno gathered up several of the notes on the floor and gently waved them about. “Besides, I think I’ve found a bit of a clue on how to work it out from talking with you. I’m not telling you this out of gratitude or anything, but—” Just then, a strong gust of wind blew in from the window and snatched the papers out of Shuno’s hand. “Ah!” They grasped at the air but couldn’t stop the sheets from flying out the window. They went over to the window and saw that the notes had caught on a pile of snow. The pair could tell the papers were getting wet, even from a distance. The characters must have been bleeding so much, they weren’t even readable at this point. “…I—I just looked at those notes, so I remember what was on them. I just need to rewrite them, okay?” said Shuno, slowly turning toward Ix. “A-are you mad?” “Doesn’t really matter. There wasn’t anything important on them.” “Well, I think it was plenty important… Hmm? That person…” Looking down on the street, Ix could make out someone in a dark-colored coat. Two people, in fact, walking side by side. The person closest to their building was holding one of the pieces of paper. It was still dry. They must have caught it before it landed. Shuno waved at them and shouted, “Heeey! Wait there just a sec—I’ll come get it!” One of the pair glanced up at the sound of Shuno’s voice. The other person tapped them on the shoulder, and they nodded. They placed the piece of paper on the side of the road and quickly walked away. “What…? It’s going to get wet like that,” said Shuno dejectedly. “They just needed to wait a second.” “Must have been in a hurry,” supposed Ix as he watched the note that had been placed on the side of the road absorb water and slump as it lost its stiffness. “Hmm? What’s wrong, Ix?” asked Shuno. “What do you mean?” “You look really spacey.” Their hands still on the windowsill, Shuno peered into Ix’s eyes. “Was there something really important written on that piece of paper?” “That’s not it… It’s not important.” “If it’s not a big deal, you can just tell me.” “…I was surprised is all. I thought I saw someone I recognized.” “Someone you recognized? A friend?” “No, a customer. I fixed her wand over the summer.” “Ah. Are you talking about the two people who were just here? But I couldn’t see either of their faces.” Shuno blinked. “Are you sure your imagination wasn’t playing tricks on you?” “Might have been. There’s no way she could be here now.” Ix shrugged. “Anyway, tell me what you were about to say. What wand do you dream of crafting, Shuno?” “Huh? Oh yeah. Sure. Right, listen closely,” they said, sidling right up to Ix. “I want to make…” A gentle snow began to fall, and the two looked up into the air, side by side. “…What?” muttered Ix. Not because he hadn’t heard what Shuno said but because he couldn’t believe his own ears. “I want to make a wand that lets you fly. Don’t make me say it again. It’s a bit embarrassing,” said Shuno with a pout. “Fly…? Why…?” muttered Ix in amazement, but Shuno just looked at him in disbelief. “Why…? Because it seems like fun.” 8 The building stood near the chapel. Both structures looked like they had been built in the same time period. Though the windows of the building offered a good view of the pointed bell tower, night had fallen. Now you could make out only its dark silhouette against the black sky. Dozens of people were gathered in the room, but the chairs were set a decent distance apart, and the lights were quite dim. Though you could say a room that dwarfed a small number of people implied a level of grandeur, the fact remained that the occupants couldn’t see one another’s faces very well. While there was a small gathering here, only about half of the people present were actually participating. The others were attendants or assistants. They were standing at attention behind their masters instead of sitting. “Are you, sure?” “About what?” asked Yuui Laika quietly back to the person standing behind her. All with a perfect smile. “It’s not often, you see him. We had time, to say hello at least.” “Were you aware of this, too, Nova?” “This was, complete coincidence,” she responded in a voice that concealed all emotion, in the same way that her bangs concealed her eyes. “I was, surprised.” “Who was the person who called out to us?” “I don’t know.” “And that piece of paper?” “I don’t know,” replied Nova tersely. “It appeared to be, some sort of formula. It used symbols, I didn’t recognize.” “Write down later what it said.” “Yes.” Just then, Yuui realized that all eyes in the room had fallen on her. She ignored them and took a sip from the drink she’d been provided. This was supposed to be a sign that she didn’t want to talk. “That was quite the feat of athleticism you showed earlier,” came the voice of someone sitting diagonally from Yuui. It belonged to an elderly woman with dignity and a strong presence. “Catching a piece of paper tracing such an irregular path through the air looks simple, but it requires masterful control.” Yuui heard clothes rustling behind her; she could tell that Nova had given a silent bow. In a way, she was acting as Yuui’s attendant right now. It was the master’s job to reply. “We are honored by your praise,” replied Yuui quickly. “I take it you were watching, then?” “It appears we occasionally pass along the same route,” replied Mellay, easily parrying Yuui’s jab before moving on. “I must admit to being quite curious about your attendant’s background.” “I don’t believe this is the right place for that line of questioning,” insisted Yuui. “Ah, of course not. My apologies.” Mellay quickly nodded but then continued, as if appending a “however” to her statement. “There is nothing prohibiting us from forming personal connections through these meetings, isn’t that right? And to be honest, I am even more curious about the background of someone who has an attendant at such a young age. What do you say, Minaha?” “I shall leave it to your imagination,” she replied, shrugging. Yuui was used to the fake name by now. “How did you come to participate in these meetings with your entire body hidden behind a coat?” continued Mellay. “I get the impression everyone here wonders, just like I do, where in the world Seyoh found such an intelligent young woman. Some even whisper that you might be the Specter of Estosha.” “A specter?” inquired Yuui, taken aback at the abrupt invocation of a ghost. “Yes.” Mellay seemed pleased. “You can hear their voice and footsteps, but no one has ever seen them. It’s a local legend. Are you interested in it? But your lack of awareness means that this is indeed the first time you have set foot in this town. Your Central Standard is so beautifully pronounced, but—”
Chapter 34
31 min read