The mage greeted them with a smile. “I think you’re going to find you’re the fools.”
Then she raised her wand.
“We’re real sorry…”
Almost before I knew what had happened, the two men were sitting on the ground, no longer on the wagon. I guess a couple of outlaws didn’t stand a chance against a mage.
“Learned your lesson?” the woman asked, grinning. She wasn’t holding her wand anymore, but fear of her had imprinted itself on those men in an instant, and they both groaned “Y-yes! We have!” and nodded emphatically.
“I can’t hear you!”
“Yes, ma’am! We’ve learned our lesson, ma’am!”
“Good!”
She waved a hand at them and told them they were free to go, then. The men scrambled up, got onto the horses, and were gone in a flash. Never mind me—or the money.
I stood there on the grassy plain that I had thought I would never see again and heaved a sigh. I was still alive.
“Are you hurt?” the mage asked from beside me. She was so tall. I had to look up at her to shake my head and say, “I’m fine, ma’am.”
She snorted as if this was funny. “You don’t have to ‘ma’am’ me. I’m younger than you are!”
True enough—I had thought when I first saw her that she looked twentysomething.
“You know about me?” I asked.
“The immortal fourteen-year-old? Yeah, I know.”
“I don’t think anyone’s ever said I was immortal.”
“Come on. You always look young and never age. Any injuries immediately heal. We have a word for that—immortal.”
I didn’t say anything.
“That’s why so many people are looking for you. People with moderately questionable sexual proclivities, for example, or bandits looking to make a quick buck.”
“And you? Who are you?”
“A witch drawn by an intense curiosity about that body of yours.”
A witch.
When she said that word, it finally clicked. At her neck she wore a brooch shaped like a star—a symbol said to be given only to the most accomplished and powerful of mages.
“I’ve always been a researcher, you see. I’m just fascinated by special and unique people. Including you and your immortality.”
I still returned only silence, so she went on. “Maybe you’d let me do some research on you?” She added that a bit of study might be all it took to unlock the secret of my immortality—but she said it like it was a joke.
That, she told me, was her proposal.
“Are you saying you might be able to crack the secret of what makes me immortal?”
“I’m saying it’s possible.”
I wasn’t sure whether to believe her. Considering I had just been kidnapped, I was feeling a bit muddled. But I did owe her my life.
“What do you say? Want to come with me?” the witch asked—adding that she thought I’d find it at least a little better than being some nobleman’s plaything. She extended a pale hand to me.
She didn’t look like someone who was lying and trying to trick me. And anyway, it wasn’t like I had anywhere else to go. I wasn’t even sure how I was going to pay for my meals tomorrow.
I wasn’t sure refusing her was an option for me.
So after a long moment of silence, I took her hand. It was soft and warm. And its owner was smiling happily.
That was when I realized I hadn’t thanked her.
“Thank you for rescuing me, uh—”
Who?
I tilted my head and asked her name.
“Oh! Right! Sorry.” She cleared her throat and then said: “My name is Cururunelvia.”
The witch of prayer.
She said she was a witch traveling the world. Meeting people, encountering things, and doing her research. That, she told me, was her greatest joy.
“Maybe you’d join me on my journey, Riviere?”
Cururunelvia was eager to keep traveling and meeting new things and people—but she also wanted to study me. Such a busy young lady needed a companion, and her idea was that we should travel the world together.
“I’d love to,” I said. I had no qualms and no doubts. In fact, not only would she get me from country to country for no charge, but she would cover my traveling expenses as well. I could hardly have hoped for a better offer.
So we visited all kinds of different places. It didn’t take that long together to notice that Cururunelvia did sometimes treat me like a child.
“C’mon, Riviere. Say ‘Ahhh,’” she said, trying to put some food in my mouth while we were eating.
I pushed her hand away. “Don’t act like I’m a little kid.”
“Oops! I guess I just tend to treat people the way they look.”
“Which would explain your flippant attitude toward me.”
“Ha-ha-ha! No, that’s just ’cause I’m not very polite!”
“Never heard someone say that about themselves before…”
Something else I realized after some time together—which, really, had been true since the day we met—was that Cururunelvia was a rather strange person.
For example, in one country…
“Y-you! You there! Are you an elf? Amazing! I’ve never seen one before! Can I touch your ears? They’re so pointy! Let me stroke them! And your hair is beautiful. Can I touch it, too? Please let me touch it!”
We’d just been walking down the street when she suddenly raced off in an excited fit. She made a beeline for a beautiful woman with golden hair and started touching her head. The vibe she gave off wasn’t so much “researcher” as plain old-fashioned “freak.”
“E—eeeeeeeeek!” the elf screamed, naturally enough. It didn’t take the police long to show up.
“You sicko!”
“Get her!”
And then it didn’t take long for them to arrest her.
“But whyyyy?” Cururunelvia wailed as they led her away.
Every time we went somewhere new, she would do some strange thing. Once, for example, we were in the mountains. Cururunelvia had befriended some of the locals and joined them to forage on the mountainside. On the way, she happened to pick a poisonous mushroom. When the locals told her it was dangerous and to throw it away, she replied, “Wow, really? Since I’ve got one, I should try a bite!”
And then she ate it.
“Grrrfgh!”
After which she collapsed.
Then she spent three days and nights on death’s doorstep.
In another country, we met a fox-like beastkin.
“You’re adorable. Can I taste your ears?”
“Uh… Why?”