Part 1: The Disinherited Boy
Arcus stared out of the window and sighed for the umpteenth time. The
window looked out on the Raythefts' well-kept garden, trees, and a great
number of stone houses. In terms of civilization and culture, Arcus's world
was much like the medieval Europe of the man's world. Unlike that man's
world, the buildings here were not made of reinforced concrete, but stones
and wood.
Needless to say, motor vehicles were also non-existent. Most people
traveled by horse and carriage. Television, gas cookers, air conditioning,
refrigerators... none of these things existed in Arcus's world.
They did, however, have lighting, water, and sewage systems, which was
something. Not that those things comforted Arcus, who had experienced the
wonders of the other world through his dream, but that wasn't why he was
sighing so much anyway.
His anguish arose from the condition of his estate.
Even after his fever went down, his parents treated him just as poorly as
ever. Before Arcus's magical abilities were tested, his parents regarded him
and his younger sister like there was nothing dearer to them in the world.
Now Arcus was treated like dirt.
"And I am no longer the heir..."
It had only been a short time before Arcus dreamed of the other world that
he was barred from his inheritance. It all came down to magic and the weight
it carried in this world.
In that man's world, magic belonged to fiction and quackery. Here, it
really existed.
The Raythefts only held a viscountcy among the gentry, but it was a
position they'd maintained since the ascension of the first King. They were a
military family, and it was the founder's use of magic on the battlefield that
earned him a position of nobility, beginning the Raytheft line. The house's
standing could not survive an heir weak in the Arts.
When Arcus's aether was assessed by the family a few weeks ago, hefailed to achieve even an average score.
The test was simple. The examinee was asked to use magic to create
ripples through the surface of a large pond and scored on how long they
could sustain the effort. Most Raythefts could go for an hour or more. Arcus,
however, didn't even last three minutes.
Ever since then, his parents looked at and spoke to him like he was pure
filth. They called him "a disgrace," "talentless," and sometimes even "a
mutt." It was an abhorrent way to treat a six-year-old. In her more enraged
moments, his mother even struck him.
Arcus had tried desperately to improve his magic skills ever since. If he
could do that much, then maybe his parents would return to the loving mother
and father he used to know.
Arcus had torn the family's library apart looking for some way to increase
his magical power. He even asked the servants if they knew how. In the end,
it seemed it was impossible after all, and even when his parents learned of his
efforts, their attitude toward him did not change.
That was how Arcus ended up bedridden with a fever. He thought back to
his mother's words.
"It's as though she wished me dead..." he murmured glumly.
They upset him, of course, but what he felt lately was a pain that stayed
with him and weighed on him in a way grief didn't. Those words of hers
made him worry about the future. Would they really carry on looking after
him here at the estate? Were they planning to throw him out onto the street
now that he survived his fever?
Either way, Arcus considered his dream of that man to be a great blessing.
He had matured through that dream, and now the prospect of being
abandoned by his parents didn't seem as scary as it may have in the past.
That wasn't to say the idea filled him with joy either, but he realized that
there was no point now in trying to win back their love.
As he gazed at the gloomy sky outside his window, there was a knock at
the door.
"Brother!" Lecia Raytheft, Arcus's sister, entered without waiting for a
reply.
She was an adorable child, her hair, as silver as Arcus', bound up in a
ponytail. She marched up to her brother."Play with me!" she demanded.
"If you want me to, I will," Arcus replied. "But are you sure it's okay?"
"Okay?" his sister echoed.
"Surely Mother and Father have told you to stay away from me?"
"Uh-huh! Mother told me not to go near you!" Lecia announced proudly.
Arcus wasn't surprised in the least, though he hadn't expected Lecia's
rebellious streak.
"I just wanna play with you!" Lecia repeated.
"All right," Arcus replied, getting to his feet.
He enjoyed playing with his little sister. He hoped this wouldn't end up
being the last time. He knew better than to expect anything; since he was no
longer the heir to the Raytheft estate, his sister would replace him—
especially since she had far outperformed Arcus in the magic test.
Celine had come to hate the idea that Lecia should associate with Arcus
and would take any opportunity she could to badmouth him in front of his
sister. Lecia still seemed to adore him at the moment, but there was no telling
what would change with time under his parents' education.
Lecia...
Arcus studied his younger sister as she smiled at him sweetly. They
weren't actually brother and sister but cousins. While Joshua Raytheft, the
head of the family, was Arcus's father, Lecia was the daughter of Joshua's
brother, the late Dudlis Raytheft.
Arcus's memory of their first meeting was vague, but he recalled that
Lecia was introduced to him as his cousin. When her father was killed the
following year in a war with a neighboring nation, Joshua took Lecia in.
Arcus and Lecia were brought up together as siblings of the same age. His
parents were probably relieved now that they had done so, but Arcus himself
wasn't sure how he felt about it.
"What's wrong?" Lecia suddenly asked.
"Nothing," Arcus reassured her. "What did you want to play today?"
"Um... Ummm..."
And so Arcus ended up spending the majority of the day playing with
Lecia.
The next day, he was called into Celine's room to be disciplined.
"I thought I told you to stay away from Lecia!" Celine's shrieks piercedArcus's ears as she stood above him.
So long as Celine caught wind of it, Arcus knew he could expect this
treatment every time he and Lecia crossed paths from now on. There was
nothing he could do in response but shrink back and apologize.
"I'm sorry, Mother."
"'Sorry' isn't going to cut it! If your worthlessness rubs off on her, what
then?! Would you try to fix that with an apology, too?!"
Arcus knew full well that "worthlessness," as she put it, wasn't
contagious. But he barely finished the thought before he felt a sharp impact
against his cheek. Despair and frustration at his helplessness welled up inside
him.
"I'm... I'm sorry."
"Listen, you filthy mutt! I'm warning you now! Stay away from Lecia!"
She gave him a drawn-out beating. Arcus bit his lip as hard as he could,
trying to bear the pain.
"Why did God curse me with a waste of space like you? Why couldn't
you be more like the Lazrael heir? He's overflowing with magical power!"
Pulling out a handkerchief, Celine began to dab at her eyes dramatically, like
she was suffering most of all. She barely finished her act before she was back
to screaming again. "Next time you do something like this, don't even think
that I won't use my magic on you!"
"Yes, Mother."
Finally free of his mother's wrath, Arcus left the room. On his way back
to his bedroom, he heard the servants whispering.
"There he is! The Raythefts' failure of a son!"
"Look at his face! His mother's punishment made him cry!"
"To think he was born to the viscount, and yet his magic skills are so
pathetic!"
"He's a disgrace to the family! I don't understand why they haven't gotten
rid of him yet!"
Without magical talent, he found himself beneath even their concern. He
took solace in the fact that not every servant participated in this harmful
gossip. It was only those who knew how to use magic themselves; those who
didn't sympathized with him.
After finally returning to his room, Arcus closed the door. His legs
trembled, like all the tension holding him up had drained from his body."It doesn't matter... It doesn't mean anything..."
It didn't matter. Arcus knew that; he had experienced over twenty years of
another man's life. Being hated and hit by his own mother wasn't a big deal
at all. It didn't affect him. There was no reason for him to feel anything at all.
He only had to think of his parents as his mother and father in name only.
Arcus's true mother was the gentle woman who raised the man in his
dream. As long as he believed that, he had no reason to break down here. He
had no need to be jealous in the least...
A sob escaped his throat. Soon, his eyes were burning. There was no
stopping now. Something snapping inside him, Arcus began to bawl. Why
did his parents treat him so cruelly, when less than a month ago, they treated
him so tenderly? They would stroke his head and hold him tightly. Even if he
whined, they would smile without scolding him for it. Now they saw him as
dead weight. Was this really how his mother was going to treat the son she
carried for nine months?
Perhaps it was right to shout at your child just because they were
talentless.
Maybe it was normal to hit them and treat them roughly.
Arcus had lived another man's life now. He wasn't the same boy he was
before. And yet, he found he was powerless to resist the emotions the man
had endured.
But why? He saw countless hardships through that man's eyes. He was
bullied through elementary school, which led him to become the class clown
until college, where he could finally spend his days as he wanted. That entire
time, he carried on.
That man's life had taught Arcus how to stand strong. Why couldn't he
stand strong now?
Arcus howled, the emotions he could no longer hold back streaming down
his face as tears. When his throat dried and his tears stopped, he stayed curled
up against his bedroom door.
He didn't know how long he stayed there like that. Before he knew it, the
sun disappeared, and the view outside the window darkened. Opening the
door behind him, he found a trolley laden with a meal. A servant who
sympathized with him must have left it there. His stomach empty fromcrying, Arcus couldn't hold back his appetite.
"Magic..." he murmured to himself as he dipped a slice of bread into the
cold soup.
Magic. Magic was the reason he was in this mess. It was because he
lacked magic ability that he was removed from the position of heir. It was
because he lacked magic ability that his parents' love for him ran dry.
A thought flashed in his mind.
If he became a magician more powerful than anybody had ever seen, he
could show his parents that they were wrong.
Arcus bit off a clump of bread. He knew it was a childish thought, but the
idea appealed to him. There was something else, too.
"...I miss hamburgers."
And could you really blame him?
The truth was, while it was far from enough to satisfy his parents, Arcus
actually possessed a fraction more ability than the average magician. He
could use some level of magic, but it wasn't like he was destined to become
the greatest magician the world had ever seen, either. If he put the work in,
there was a chance he would be able to find some way to increase his aether.
He had failed before, but that was when he was a normal six-year-old. If he
could bend his new memories of the other world and its technological
wonders to his advantage, then the results might be different this time around.
His determination renewed, Arcus set to work rereading all his family's
grimoires.
Magic is the power to bring all sorts of phenomena to life, using mystical
words to create spells.
That was probably the simplest way to sum up what magic was in this
world. Based on this definition alone, the magic of this world seemed to be
less limited than the magic described in the books Arcus knew from the
man's world. All you needed was to put certain words together, and you
could make all sorts of things happen. As long as you could create a spell,
countless possibilities lay before you.
When the books spoke of "mystical words," they weren't referring to a
modern language, but to the Elder Tongue, whose roots were in the very
origins of society. It was written in characters known as artglyphs, which
looked similar to astrological and zodiac symbols from the man's world.Each word of this language held power related to its meaning, and
assembling those words into a sentence or phrase would create a spell,
waiting to be used.
What happened as a result of those words largely depended on the
magician's intention, but as long as you memorized the Elder Tongue, in
theory you could use magic to do almost anything.
The book went on to describe that to use the language, you had to put an
appropriate amount of magical power into each word. If you got the amount
wrong, the spell would fail. In other words, the idea of "overclocking" a spell
was mere fantasy. Not that it really mattered to Arcus, who wouldn't have
enough aether for that in the first place. The amount of aether you possessed
determined a sorcerer's staying power.
To sum up, Arcus needed to learn the right words and how to arrange
them into spells (that, or knowledge of extant spells), and how much magical
power to put into each word.
Alongside his studies of the language they spoke at home, Arcus had also
been learning the Elder Tongue, and so he already had a decent
understanding of it. When casting a spell, it was important to picture your
intention vividly. Thanks to that man's memories, Arcus now had a whole
host of imagery that he could draw on—things he witnessed in real life and in
films, comics, and cartoons...
"All that's left now is aether and spells..." he murmured to himself.
In preparation for the test he had taken, Arcus studied how to control his
aether to a certain extent, so that wouldn't really be an issue. In terms of
spells, he just had to learn those that already existed, how to make his own,
and how much power was consumed upon casting them. On this front, he was
out of leads; he'd bled the book dry.
It wasn't worth considering asking his parents, and the magic users among
the servants likely wouldn't help him, either. At this point, Arcus would have
been well within his rights to give up.
"I'll make this work."
The truth was, he had someone in mind who he thought might be willing
to help him out.
A few days after Arcus gathered his resolve to become a magician, the
Raythefts received a visit."Brother."
"Hey, Joshua. Been a while, huh?"
In the Raythefts' drawing room stood Arcus's father, Joshua, and a man
who looked much like him, with the same silvery hair. Unlike Joshua, this
man had much more of a working-class air about him. His muscular body,
browned from the sun, had a few burn marks here and there that spoke of his
return from the battlefield.
His name was Craib Abend, and he was Joshua's elder brother, although
he had absconded from the Raytheft estate years ago.
The reason for his defection was to do with his aether.
When it came to choosing an heir for the Raytheft name, Joshua had been
chosen, simply because he had more aether than his brother. Craib quarreled
with Arcus's grandfather about it, which eventually led to his decision to
leave.
He could still show his face to the head of the Raytheft estate and still be
considered that man's brother for one reason. Craib had studied and worked
incredibly hard in exile. When he came back to fight in the war, he achieved
success after success, eventually receiving an important office within the
military from the king. His true strength ended up far exceeding his brother's
talent in the Arts. As a baron, Joshua still outranked Craib among the gentry,
but within the military, their roles were reversed.
Craib didn't associate much with the Raythefts, but he dropped by when
he was moving between military posts, just to check in on his family.
"Hey, Arcus! How're you doing?" Craib grinned as he spotted his
nephew.
"I am well, thank you. It has been a long time. I am glad to see you are
well, too," Arcus replied.
"Since when did you speak so much like a grown-up, huh? Is this what
they're teaching you in those fancy 'heir' classes?" Craib let out a hearty
laugh, apparently overjoyed to see his nephew maturing so fast.
Arcus's uncle was always so open and straightforward; Arcus found him
very approachable. Joshua, however, did not look so pleased.
"Arcus is no longer the heir to the Raytheft estate."
There was a pause.
"What?!" Craib's eyes widened in surprise.
"His aether is far too low for our standards. Lecia shall be taking hisposition as heir," Joshua explained.
Lecia, who was sitting next to her father, shot an anxious glance at Arcus.
He couldn't blame her; she was put in an extremely awkward position.
Suddenly, Craib narrowed his eyes.
"Don't tell me that's why you ain't letting him sit on the couch?"
"That is indeed why," came the response.
Arcus alone was being made to stand behind the rest of the family as they
sat, on Joshua's orders. Though his father was treating Arcus like a servant,
he likely saw him as even less than that. Craib's expression crumpled into a
frown.
"Look, even if he ain't got that much power, don't you think it's kinda
early to be making that decision? He could still have potential, y'know."
"Please," Joshua scoffed. "You should know more than anybody that
aether doesn't increase over time."
Craib let out an exaggerated sigh before turning his frustrated gaze back
toward Joshua.
"You remember what Dad said to us before he died, right?"
It seemed he struck a nerve.
"Things are different now!" Joshua protested. "The fact is that the boy
simply hasn't enough aether to be worthy to lead the house!"
"Hey! That 'boy' is your son! At least treat him like your own flesh and
blood!" Craib shouted, raising his voice to a level above Joshua's.
"He is no longer the heir; therefore, he is no longer my son! The moment
his lack of power was established, he became a worthless mutt!"
It was like a frigid wind swept through the room. Arcus nearly shivered.
Joshua swallowed, clearly panicked, and Arcus put together that Craib's
anger was the source of that tension.
"I can't believe you're saying this in front of your own son," Craib
muttered darkly.
"Wh-Why shouldn't I? Such a talentless creature is of no use to the House
of Raytheft."
"So you ended up like our piece of crap dad after all," Craib spat.
He wasn't just looking at Joshua now, either, but Celine too. Having
played her own part in disowning Arcus', she cast her gaze away. Neither of
them able to look him in the eye, and the servants shivering behind them,
Craib started to calm. He turned to look at Arcus sympathetically."C'mon. The kid's only six years old."
"We are a family known for our military prowess. If we must cut a
member out to protect that family, we should not hesitate."
"You're gonna say that in front of him, too. You must be crazy," Craib
said, exasperated.
This was Arcus's chance.
"Uncle," he began. "Uncle, I have a favor to ask of you."
"What's up?"
"I would like you to teach me about magic."
"Ar-Arcus! Y-You little..."
Joshua scowled at his son; Arcus met his gaze head-on. There was nothing
to be scared of anymore. He let out all the tears he could spare days ago. His
parents could glare at him and hit him all they liked, but he swore he would
never let them make him cry ever again. From now on, he was prepared to
stand up against them.
Craib stared at Arcus, taken aback by his words.
"Are you sure, Arcus?"
"Yes. I am sure."
He was doing the right thing. In fact, this was all he could do. In getting
so angry on his behalf, Craib proved Arcus could trust him.
Arcus nodded, watching as the confusion in Craib's eyes turned to
admiration. It didn't take long for Joshua to interject.
"Stop right there!" he shouted. "How dare you ridicule the name of
Raytheft like this?!"
"That is not my intention. In fact, I am doing this for the family."
Arcus's unexpected words and nonchalant tone merely provoked Joshua's
rage further.
"What utter nonsense!"
"If I prove that I have talent, then there should be no reason for the family
to be ashamed of me. Am I wrong?"
Arcus was doing his very best to take a dig at Joshua. That he was doing
so in front of Craib, who had already proven himself worthy, made his words
all the more effective. Just as Arcus expected, the venom in his father's gaze
increased. In terms of his position within the family, Arcus could fall no
lower, and so there was no way to make him regret this. He no longer cared
how much his father came to hate him."Why, you..." Joshua began, but Craib interrupted him with a hearty
laugh.
"C'mon, Joshua! It's too early to decide he's gonna shame the family! Or
are you saying I showed you and Dad up, just 'cause I made something outta
my life?"
"Brother!" Joshua's face turned red as hot iron at Craib's barb.
Craib stuck his tongue out at his brother as he raged.
"Okay, Arcus! I'll teach ya! You'll be a fine magician once I'm done with
you!"
And that was how Arcus's uncle, Craib Abend, became his magic teacher.
The following day, Craib took Arcus to his home in the royal capital.
There in the garden, he began a magical demonstration.
Craib stood in front of Arcus, a bandana wrapped around his silver hair
and his military jacket hung over his short-sleeved shirt. His tanned, muscular
arms were folded in front of his chest. He looked much more like a fighter
than any sort of magician, but despite his appearance, he was known across
the land as a scholar of magic—not that he wasn't also a fine man-at-arms.
"First I wanna see how much you already know," Craib began.
"Yes, sir!"
"You got spunk! I like it!" Craib grinned.
"Right! I'm determined to show Mother and Father that they misjudged
me!" Arcus declared.
"Now that's what I'm talking about!" Craib let out a hearty laugh. "Now,
how much of the basics of magic do you know?"
"According to my readings, to use magic you need to know both artglyphs
and the Elder Tongue. You use those to create a spell, which you then recite
and imbue with your magical power."
"Yup. You hit the nail on the head. Now, what do you need to learn
artglyphs and their language?"
"A dictionary," Arcus replied.
"That's enough to brush up on them," Craib agreed, "but just that won't
do if you're serious about becoming a magician."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
Arcus was shocked. All he used in his studies at home was a dictionary,and so he thought that would be enough. He was starting to realize that his
knowledge of magic still barely scratched the surface of what there was to
learn.
"You'll be needing one of these." Putting his hand into a bag he'd come
prepared with, Craib pulled out one of the thickest books Arcus had ever
seen. Arcus gawked at it.
"These are the Ancient Chronicles. The Birth of Heaven and Earth
documents the creation of the earth and sky. The Spiritual Age is a record of
the time when spirits wandered Earth. The Prophecy of Shadows predicts the
entire history and future of this world. Documenting the Stars describes a
scholar's life as he follows the sky and the movements of the planets. The
Magician's Elegy speaks about civilization as it was when magic flourished,
and then there's Demons and Society's Collapse. That one's about the four
powerful demons who will come and destroy the world—it's got the Song of
Destruction in it. They say the entirety of the Elder Tongue is recorded in
these six titles, but..."
"But?" Arcus prompted.
"No one actually knows if every last word is written in them. There's no
one who can actually read them all anyway," Craib explained.
"Not even you?"
"Not even me. 'Specially The Prophecy of Shadows." Craib grinned. "I
have no clue what the author's on about."
"So these are the six books you should use to study the Language of the
Ancient Arts?" Arcus asked.
"Yup. Just learning words and phrases ain't enough. If you don't
understand where those words came from or how to use them, there's no way
you're gonna tap into their power. That's why reading the Chronicles is the
best way to wrap your head around the language. And you gotta, if you
wanna become a real magician."
"All right." Arcus took the book from his uncle.
"This is just one volume, by the way. There's a ton more to it; I'll get one
of my servants to get the rest later."
"But this one alone is so thick..." Arcus grimaced as he thought about just
how much reading he was going to need to do.
All of a sudden, Craib's expression became serious.
"Listen, Arcus. These Chronicles aren't just any old stories. People havebeen studying this language for ages before you and I were born. There are
still tons of characters we don't know how to sound out, or what they mean.
Even if you can read it, there's a lot that's gonna just sound like nonsense,
and sometimes you won't have a clue what it's supposed to be about."
"Supposing I was able to decipher the entire thing?" Arcus asked
curiously.
"Your name would go down in history. But you wanna be able to walk
before you run," Craib added.
Perhaps that would be true under normal circumstances, but Arcus had
access to a whole wealth of understanding that everyone in this world had yet
to achieve, thanks to his dream.
Before I get too far ahead of myself, though, I'll need to learn those
glyphs. And it doesn't look like it's going to be easy...
Deciding he would just have to take his time with it, Arcus returned his
attention to Craib.
"So, on the one hand, you've got your language to learn. What else have
you gotta learn along with that?" Craib asked.
"How to control my aether?"
"Yup! You got it. I see you've done your homework." Craib broke into a
smile at Arcus's instant response.
Magic consumed the caster's aether in order to create a specific effect, but
just reciting the spell wouldn't automatically consume it; instead, you had to
prepare the right amount of power beforehand. This meant you had to learn to
regulate your aether so that you could put just the right amount into each
spell.
"You've already learned how to control your own power, right?" Craib
asked.
"Yes, sir," replied Arcus.
"All right. But just in case, I'm gonna start from the basics. Magic feels
like warm water flowing through your body. If you learn to control it, it
means you can manipulate it, focus it, split it up into parts, or send it outside
your body."
Arcus closed his eyes and focused on the sensation inside him. He could
feel it deep within his belly as a warm, shapeless glow, neither liquid nor
vapor.
"Whenever you're not doing anything else, you should practice movingthat power around your body. If you keep that up, soon you'll be able to
move it as easily as your arms and legs," said Craib.
"Yes, sir."
"Your goal should be to be able to move that power even when you're
doing simple physical tasks. Then you'll be able to keep it up for days on
end."
Arcus nodded. The way Craib was speaking right now told him that this
point in particular was very important.
"By the way, once you get good at this, you'll be able to feel magic from
places outside your own body," Craib added.
"Really?"
"Yep. And I was the one who discovered it! Whaddya think of that, huh?"
Craib puffed out his broad chest proudly before bursting out into embarrassed
laughter. "As you probably know, I left the Raytheft house and passed the
heirship over to Joshua. Everyone mocked me for it, and I hated that, so I
went on a journey to look for ways I could increase my aether."
Arcus nodded. "I have heard as much."
"I tried all kinds of stuff. Ate all kinds of foods that were s'posed to
increase your magic, practiced magic as much as I could before my body
gave out to raise my stamina... But none of that worked. What I did learn,
though, was how to detect the presence of magic."
Craib seemed proud of his discovery. Arcus had never read anything
about detecting magic before, so it was likely his uncle was the first to
discover it. He had every reason to be proud. But that wasn't all.
"You realized what that means yet?"
"Yes, sir. If you can detect the presence of magic, then you should be able
to track the location of humans and other creatures that use it."
"Bingo. 'Cause humans, demons, monsters, and things like that all have
magic inside them."
"Can you also tell how many of them there are?" Arcus asked.
"Yeah, 'course."
It sounded like a very useful skill indeed, especially in a situation where
you wanted to keep clear of anything hostile.
"It'll take some time before you're at that level, though. But it's a pretty
handy skill! If you start working on that now, you'll learn before you know
it!" Suddenly, Craib grinned. "Joshua can't do it, y'know."In other words, just by learning how to detect magic, Arcus would have
already surpassed his father.
"Does that mean you never told him about it?" asked Arcus.
"You really think I go around shoutin' about my secret techniques? Nah.
He might be my brother, but he hasn't earned it."
"You two really don't get along well, do you?"
"We used to. But whatever, I'll tell you about that another time." Craib
patted Arcus on the head. "Anyway! Time to show you some real magic!"
"Yes, sir!" Arcus responded eagerly, raising his hands in the air. He was
waiting for this.
"It'll be good for you to see some real magic in action. If you wanna be a
top magician, it's vital to have models to reference at the image-forming
stage."
"Is that something you learned on your travels too?"
"You know it! I wouldn't be who I am today without all the magic I saw
in all sorts of different places." Again, Craib puffed out his chest. "Arcus.
You ever seen real magic before?"
"Only the once," Arcus replied, "and not since then."
"Gotcha. Then I'll start with psychokinesis, since that's pretty basic."
Picking up a stone from the ground, Craib launched it through the air. The
stone rolled along the ground before losing all its momentum and coming to a
stop on the lawn. Craib raised his hand toward it.
"Guide the object according to my will."
Craib recited the spell in the Elder Tongue. Luminous artglyphs rose up
around him.
The stone began to float."It's moving!" Arcus cried.
"This is psychokinesis," Craib explained. "It lets you move objects
wherever you want."
Craib steered the stone around a while before finally allowing it to rest.
The artglyphs formed by his words broke down and scattered into the air. For
a time, their light remained, but soon that too was gone.
"This is a simple spell that you'll find in any book. You know that you
don't have to copy my spell word for word, right?"
"As long as my words mean that I want it to move, my spell will have the
same effect, yes?" Arcus said.
"That's it. You can't just stick any old words together, though. You gotta
be careful with it, or the words might fight back or contradict each other, and
you won't be able to do anything at all. You have a lot of freedom when it
comes to the words you use, but you still gotta make sure they're the right
ones. For example..."
Craib cleared his throat, ready to recite another spell.
"Allow me to use my will to move the object as I please."
Just as before, the artglyphs appeared, and the stone floated into the air
before coming to a stop.
"Wow!" Arcus's excitement grew by the second.
"See? Remember that spells are something you can build yourself."
"That was really impressive!" Arcus exclaimed.
In all the books he read in the man's world, magic tended to be activated
by very specific sets of words. The prospect of having absolute freedom to
create your own spells made Arcus's heart race. It spoke to the inborn human
impulse to tinker.
"I gotta warn you now; we're learning the absolute basics right now."
"Yes, sir!"
Craib pulled out another book from his bag.
"This one's all about your fundamentals. Make sure you read it, but
promise me you won't try and use any of it yet, 'kay?"
"Okay."
At this point, trying to recreate anything would most likely lead to some
sort of accident. Arcus could understand that, and he would hate to disappoint
his uncle just because he was curious to try something out.Craib continued to demonstrate different kinds of magic for Arcus.
"Uncle, I have a question," Arcus piped up after a while.
"Shoot. Ask me anything you want."
"Is there any way to know exactly how much aether you have to put into
each spell?"
Since the necessary aether depended on the words or phrases you used,
Arcus couldn't help but wonder whether each word needed a set amount of
magic when you used it in a spell. If there was a way to measure that
beforehand, it would be invaluable.
He should be so lucky.
"Nope. You just gotta feel it."
"Feel it?" Arcus echoed.
"Yup. It's all about intuition."
The vagueness of Craib's response disappointed Arcus. He was sure there
would be some way to accurately gauge how much aether each word called
for, but it seemed that wasn't the case.
"It's impossible to say how much magic you gotta put into each word.
You get why, right? You can't see magic with your eyes, and it's not a
physical thing either, so it's not like you can measure it."
"But then how are you supposed to remember the right amounts for each
spell?" Arcus objected.
"Like I said, you just gotta trust your gut. Also, you start by just trying out
the spell again and again, and eventually you'll work out how much power
you need."
However, his answer still didn't satisfy Arcus.
"B-But if you have no specific amount to guide you, doesn't that just
mean that you'll end up miscalculating the aether you need on each repeated
attempt?"
"Miscalculating, huh? You sure know some fancy words." Craib smiled.
"But yeah, you're right. That's why magic's all about training."
So there really wasn't a way to measure aether accurately. A part of Arcus
suspected as much; after all, if such a method existed, his aether wouldn't
have been tested by something as primitive as creating ripples on water.
Deep in thought, there was a slight pause before Arcus realized that Craib
was studying him with an unreadable expression.
"Is something wrong?" he asked his uncle"I wouldn't say 'wrong,' but... Y'know, I noticed this yesterday too, but
you really don't talk like a normal six-year-old. It's like you're too... fluent.
Or too confident. I dunno."
"O-Oh, really?! That's just... It must be the result of my studies!" Arcus
was under the impression that speaking more loudly would make his
statement more convincing.
His fluent speech and speed at picking up new vocabulary was, of course,
a result of what he'd learned through that man's memories. He always had to
memorize new words when he was receiving his heir's education, but now he
found it much easier to actually put them to use. Before he knew it, he was
able to speak at length without even needing to pause for breath.
"Yeah... I guess that makes sense." There was a hint of pity in Craib's
eyes. The next moment, he placed his large hands firmly on Arcus's
shoulders. "Don't worry, Arcus. I ain't gonna let all that hard work of yours
go to waste. We'll get you up to scratch on magic, I swear!"
"Oh, um... thank you." Arcus wasn't sure what else he could say under his
uncle's intense gaze.
Apparently, he had given Craib a false impression. It seemed he thought
his family had forced him to study day and night.
Still, I'm very lucky to have a kindhearted uncle like him around.
Arcus genuinely thought so, especially when considering what the rest of
his family was like. He found hope rising in his chest: hope that he would be
able to master magic like he wanted to. So long as he didn't dwell on never
knowing for sure how much power he would need.
Even though Craib was teaching Arcus magic now, it wasn't like he could
be by his side at every hour of the day. Thanks to his scholarly and military
work, and the fact that he held his own territory (small though it was), he was
actually fairly busy most of the time. Instead of teaching him directly, he
would give Arcus assignments to do at home before catching up with him in
his spare moments.
Arcus worked hard on these assignments daily. Today, he was reading an
old grimoire he had borrowed from Craib's library. He was chasing some hint
of how someone might increase their aether. In the stories told in that man's
world, magic power increased the more you used it, but that wasn't the case
here. In this world, aether was set from the day you were born, and it wasn'tthought that there was anything you could do about it.
Craib had once followed this same line of inquiry that Arcus now pursued
and apparently found nothing of use, so Arcus didn't hold out much hope
himself. Even then, he felt he had to check. With the knowledge from his
dream, there might be something he would spot that Craib couldn't.
He wasn't having any luck. The book mentioned nothing on increasing
your power, merely listing ways your power could manifest once you learned
to control it, among other similarly unhelpful things. Not only that, but the
last few sections of the book were so complex that not even Craib was able to
understand them. For example, he had just come to a section about kneading
one's magic. Craib had this to say about that section:
"Oh, yeah. I don't really have a clue about this part."
Craib himself had done as the book said, manipulating the magic inside
his body and working hard to build it into something greater, but he never
had any success with it. In the first place, he wasn't quite sure what the book
meant by "knead."
"Knead? I mean, what the hell is that supposed to mean, right?" Craib
had remarked.
It was a fair point. Were you supposed to push into your aether like clay?
Or was it more of a folding action? In the man's world, there were machines
for that sort of thing. Surely you wouldn't need something like that?
Arcus was having a hard time wrapping his head around the word.
"Perhaps I should just give it a try."
He wouldn't get anywhere just by thinking about it, after all. Just as Craib
told him to, Arcus had been moving his aether around his body on a daily
basis, splitting it up and putting it back together again; he was starting to get
quite good at it. If kneading was just an extension of that, it wouldn't be a
bad idea to try it out.
"Knead... knead... knead..."
Arcus focused, folding his power over itself, kneading and pressing into it
over and over again. It was only after he had been at it for a few hours that he
realized something.
"Is my power... decreasing?"
As he kneaded, it felt like his power was ebbing away, little by little. Just
moving magic around inside your body shouldn't consume it, but Arcus was
sure he had less now than when he started this exercise."I shall keep kneading," he decided.
Some sort of change was happening within him, which meant he was
making progress. He continued to knead, hoping he might discover
something new in the process. However...
"U-Uh-oh! I must have exerted myself a bit too much..."
Arcus kept going until it felt like there was barely any magic left inside
him at all. When he started, his magic was pleasantly warm—like freshly-
drawn bathwater—but now it burned like steam. Not only that, but he felt
more resistance as he tried to manipulate it now. It had been so easy at the
start, but now the magic seemed to settle inside him like a boulder.
Arcus briefly considered casting a spell.
"No, I can't do that... Especially not indoors."
In its current state, his magic would likely need a forceful way out—and
that risked a shockwave. Not only that, but this sensation was entirely new to
him. If his inexperience led him to release it clumsily, he could end up
destroying his entire bedroom.
Yet, if he didn't release it now, that burning weight was just going to sit
there until he did, or until it found its own way out. Arcus was starting to get
nervous.
"I'll work it out later."
He decided he would leave the dangerous power he had created inside
him. If he didn't focus on it, he wouldn't feel the burning. If he left it alone, it
would probably cool down. He hoped so, at least.
He hoped, but he suspected it wouldn't be that simple, either. People had
researched magic for hundreds of years before he was born, but Arcus was
just a six-year-old boy. It wasn't like he was going to be able to discover
anything new based on a passing whim. Increasing your own aether was one
of the biggest roadblocks in magic research. Finding the solution wasn't
going to be easy.
Picking up the textbook, Arcus left his room. As he did so, he was
unlucky enough to walk right into Joshua. He stiffened under his father's icy
glare. Ever since Craib started teaching Arcus magic, Joshua's attitude
toward him became colder by an order of magnitude. It seemed the tension
between him and his brother was just as complicated as Arcus thought.
Joshua's gaze dropped to the book in Arcus's hands.
"Studying magic?""Yes."
Joshua clicked his tongue.
"Studying shan't get you the inheritance back," he remarked irritably.
"I never wanted the inheritance," Arcus replied.
"Nor does it matter how much you learn from my brother!" Joshua
barked. "Your magic levels will remain pitifully low!"
"Magic levels are not the be-all and end-all of a good magician," Arcus
informed him, remaining cool against the fire of Joshua's anger.
The next moment, he felt a sharp pain across his face. Joshua had hit him.
The next thing he knew, Arcus's head slammed against the corridor wall, and
the metallic taste of blood spread across his tongue. He must have cut his
mouth.
"You are nothing but a nuisance!" Joshua spat, enraged.
His father no longer felt the sadness of a parent who had lost their son. If
he had, he wouldn't be able to treat the child who shared his blood so
horrifically. Wrath was all that consumed him now.
For a while, Arcus stared at the floor in silence. Eventually, having lost
interest, Joshua left him there. Arcus put his hand to his cheek and stood up.
It was then that he noticed Lecia's head poking around one corner of the
corridor. Her eyes shone with anxiety. She must have seen the whole thing.
"B-Brother..."
"Lecia."
Lecia checked if the coast was clear before racing up to Arcus.
"Are you okay, Brother?" she asked.
"I'm fine. This is nothing." Arcus smiled reassuringly at her, but Lecia
dropped her gaze to the floor.
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what?" Arcus asked.
"It's 'cause of me that Mother and Father are being so mean to you and
hitting you and stuff..." Lecia's shoulders shook like she was about to burst
into tears.
"Lecia, none of this is your fault."
"Y-Yeah, it is, 'cause... 'cause I'm gonna be the heir instead of you! I
stole it from you!"
It seemed Lecia was under the impression that this was her fault.
"No, Lecia," Arcus told her. "It is my fault.""No it's not! It's not!" Lecia wailed, unable to hold her tears back any
longer.
Arcus waited patiently for her to calm down. Eventually, her wails
became a series of intermittent sobs.
"Brother... why can't everyone just get along like we used to? I wanna
play with you."
"I don't know, Lecia. But it would be nice."
That was impossible now. Much as he agreed with Lecia that families
should get along, Arcus's relationship with his parents was damaged beyond
repair.
In the man's youth, his parents fought, and he had felt much the same way
as Lecia probably did now. It was natural for children to want their parents to
get along, and to treat their family with kindness.
It shouldn't have been too much to ask. But Lecia's wish would never
come true, and it was all their parents' fault. It was their fault for not seeing
their children's worth beyond their natural talents. It was their fault that Lecia
was crying now.
It was enough to make Arcus's blood boil. Proving his parents wrong was
no longer enough. Eventually, he would have to settle things properly. There
was no other way to do that than to wipe the Raytheft name from the face of
the earth.
"Brother?"
"There's no need to cry. I'll play with you, okay?" Arcus said.
"Really?"
"Of course." Taking Lecia's hand, Arcus led her to his room.
After the two of them played for a while, Lecia spoke up.
"Is it okay if I come to your room sometimes?" she asked.
"As long as you're careful Mother and Father don't see you," warned
Arcus.
"'Kay! I promise!" Lecia beamed at him.
That smile alone was enough to wipe away the pain from Joshua's assault.
It had been two years since Craib started teaching Arcus magic.
Arcus was now eight years old. He had grown more than four extra inches
(to borrow the unit from that man's world) and was now of more or less
average height for his world. That was all well and good, but there was just one problem.
"My face is far too feminine..." Arcus sighed glumly, rubbing at his
cheeks as he studied himself in the mirror.
His features adamantly refused to surrender their baby fat. It wasn't just
his face, either—his unusual silvery hair also gave off a feminine impression.
Logically, Arcus knew he was still only eight years old and that the situation
would probably improve over time. That didn't stop the uneasiness from
bubbling up inside him every time he saw himself in the mirror.
There was still good news, however. His magical studies were coming
along nicely. He had put countless hours into studying the artglyphs and the
Elder Tongue and memorizing a fair bit of the characters and vocabulary.
Arcus put a lot of his success down to the language skills that carried over
from the man's world.
Magic aside, its laws of nature and physics were very similar to his own.
There were quite a few words and phrases that Arcus shouldn't have been
able to understand but was able to work out when he compared them to what
he knew from the other world.
Electricity, obscurity, magnetism, nothingness... These were just a handful
of the words that helped Arcus's understanding. The words from that man's
country held nuances other languages lacked, which also worked to Arcus's
advantage. Arcus had been lucky that the man was such a bookworm.
According to Arcus's uncle, he was at the same level as a student of the
Royal Institute of Magic. It wasn't normal for an eight-year-old to be this far
ahead in his studies. Perhaps part of that came from Arcus's desire to win out
over the elder Raythefts. That wasn't to say he disliked his studies, but the
abuse his fall from grace still brought on him spurred him forward like little
else.
Arcus still had a long way to go before he could get his revenge on
Joshua. He had to keep going if he wanted any chance of being able to show
up him and Celine and destroy the dated traditions of the Raytheft house.
As for the use of magic itself, Arcus had become quite good at it. He
would practice with Craib in his garden whenever his uncle had time, and it
was safe to say that he had more or less mastered the basics. It wasn't too
long ago, on one of these occasions, that he chose to show his uncle what he
had learned.
"Okay. Give it a try," Craib instructed. "Yes, sir."
Under Craib's watchful eye, Arcus carefully portioned out the aether he
needed for the words he had in mind.
"Turn the wrath within me to flame. Scorch the skies with your roar and
incinerate all in your path as you become a burning arrow."
The moment the words fell from Arcus's lips, artglyphs began to float up
around him. They slowly twisted themselves into a magic circle, and a spear
of flame pierced through its center.
This was an offensive fire spell, Flamlarune. It was a version of the spell
Flamrune, which Craib had created to be easier to use.
The spear of flames shot from the center of the circle, hitting its target and
setting it ablaze. Once the flames burned out, they transformed into artglyphs
before dissolving into the air.
"Nice! That was awesome!"
"Thank you," Arcus replied, bowing his head at Craib's praise.
It took Arcus a long time to work out how much aether and what kind he
needed to put into that spell, but after practicing it over and over, he finally
had it down. There was still something that bothered him, though.
It's just far too inefficient.
It was the lack of numbers that gave Arcus the most trouble. Sure, he had
gotten used to feeling out how much aether he needed, and according to
Craib, that was the only way to do it. But no matter how many times he
repeated that, Arcus found it difficult to accept. If he could only measure it,
he would be able to use each spell as effectively as possible.
He felt a rough hand ruffling his hair. Arcus looked up at Craib curiously.
"I can't believe you're already using Flamlarune! And you're only eight!
You know this'd mean you're war-ready, right?"
"R-Really?" Arcus asked.
"Yep! Wanna come join me on the front line next time?"
"If... If you think I'm ready..."
"I was just kiddin'!" Craib let out a roaring laugh.
"Ha... ha..." Arcus's lips twitched into a hesitant smile of their own.
He wasn't quite sure he approved of how casually Craib spoke of war,
like he was inviting Arcus to a picnic.
It was true that this level of magic would likely qualify Arcus to fight out
on the battlefield. Firearms did not exist here. Not only that, but nobles and royal heirs were often made to fight at a very young age, so you couldn't
blame Arcus for not being able to tell whether Craib was joking or not.
I shall probably have to go eventually...
The situation in this world was much less stable compared to the world
Arcus dreamed of. Nations scuffled with each other over the smallest of
issues, and even lords who served the same king often squabbled. The
situation could change overnight. As a citizen, you had to be ready for your
country to go to war at all times.
Aside from spell practice, there was something else that Arcus worked on
in Craib's garden with him. He was learning about the art of seals. With the
right tools, you could carve out a spell on an object to give it a magical effect.
It was a very useful art; it filled many of the same niches as the other world's
infrastructure and consumer electronics. You didn't need to cast a spell for
those objects to work, so it was widely used by both magicians and non-
magicians alike.
One popular use of seals was to create a Sol Glass, which was a piece of
lighting equipment often placed in and around the home. You could also
make objects that created fire, similar to lighters from the man's world. Seals
could even be engraved on weapons, creating a special class of prohibitively
expensive "Seal Arms."
Arcus started learning about seals not only to further his studies, but so
that he could earn his own money. It was Craib who initially suggested the
idea: Arcus would engrave seals and sell the finished work to wholesalers.
The financial incentive would also help Arcus increase his skills; after all,
since he was selling these items, he couldn't be lackadaisical about his
technique. Still, at the moment, Arcus was only working on very small
objects. At first, he couldn't engrave as neatly as he needed to, and his results
were dubious to say the least. Thanks to his enduring practice, he had now
become much better at it.
Taking up his carving tools, today Arcus was working on carving out a
new set of artglyphs.
If I make this part more solid, it will also become more brittle... but I can't
use the word "tenacity" here, either...
The reason Arcus hesitated was that there weren't many words he could
use together with "tenacity," a word he had learned from his dream. Tenacity
would imbue the object with both strength and firmness. Arcus could not think of a more effective choice, but the stronger the word, the larger the
influence it had over the words it was combined with.
This was one of the trickier aspects of spellcraft. Powerful words had a
strong influence over the other words in the spell, and if you didn't pay the
utmost care and attention, your spell could end up having unintended effects.
To optimize a spell, powerful words had to be tempered with words that
limited their effect and bent them to the caster's will. Getting the balance
perfect required lots and lots of trial and error.
There were some related to fire which were very rarely used, since they
were simply too overwhelming. Civilization had yet to discover any words
related to lightning magic. Other words, like "annihilation" and "maelstrom,"
could drain away the caster's life and create disasters on a scale that
threatened nations.
Arcus kept engraving away until he realized he was out of materials.
"Ah. I must have used it all up already."
To engrave seals, you needed a small knife and a substance called
Sorcerer's Silver. It was created by infusing silver with specially cultivated
aether and had very similar properties to mercury. Mixing it with pigment
and metal powder and applying it to the tip of your blade as you carved was
what gave the seals their effects. Without the Sorcerer's Silver, you were
merely drawing useless shapes into an object.
"Time to visit the shops."
Putting his project on hold, Arcus made preparations to go out.
It was common knowledge that letting children of the gentry—especially
very young ones—wander outdoors was a bad idea, but nobody said a word
when Arcus walked straight out of the Raytheft estate.
Now and again he ran into Joshua when he went out. He would usually
just glare at Arcus and otherwise leave him alone. Apparently, he thought
Arcus was fixated on ignoring him.
Arcus resided in the kingdom of Lainur, an absolute monarchy positioned
right in the middle of a large continent. Its achievements in the aetheric arts
outstripped its neighbors, and the capital prided itself on its Magician's
Guild, which protected the rights and social status of magicians, as well as
the Royal Institute of Magic, which oversaw magical education within the
country.
Thanks to its culture of supremacy through magic, Lainur hung on despite
its small size and the military might of the Gillis Empire in the northwest.
The way the capital itself had evolved was impressive, too. Not nearly as
impressive as the cities in the man's world, but the roads were paved with
stone, and most of the brick-and-stone buildings were three or four stories
high. Their roofs, too, were a sight to behold for their eclectic colors. Sol
Glasses were set outside the storefronts along the main street, illuminating
the city even at night.
Leaving the noble district behind, Arcus set out for the main street, his
bag swinging from his shoulder. Crowds bustled around the city, another sign
of the kingdom's effective governance. Personally, Arcus rather liked the
idea of the governments he had learned about from the man's world, but he
couldn't deny that a monarchy like this one kept the country stable.
The street was lined with inns, private general stores, chain stores, and
arms dealers, just as described in the books from the man's world. Since the
road was so wide, there was space for the stalls hawking street food scattered
about. There was a bookstore, too, which sold everything from novels and
technical books to magic magazines, textbooks, and spellbooks. There was as
much variety among the most popular magic magazines as fashion
magazines, and they were a common purchase among magicians and
apprentices alike. It didn't seem to be selling anything of use to Arcus.
As he peered into the store, he spotted a man in a cloak staring at the
books and muttering to himself. His face had the gaunt cast of a man denied
too much sleep, and he reminded Arcus of the students from the man's world,
who would stay up studying until dawn the night before an important exam.
He was staring so intensely at the books that Arcus was surprised they hadn't
caught on fire yet. He must have been a student at the Royal Institute.
While government positions like military or public office were typically
reserved for nobles. Positions that required an aptitude for magic were a
different matter, and so even civilians were hired into these roles out of
necessity.
This was partly why Lainur's education system was built on earning
qualifications. There were two exams a magician could take. One was the
Guild's Certificate of Sorcery Education, and the other was the National
Diploma of Sorcery. Either of these was required for a sorcery-related job in
Lainur. The man perusing the books was likely studying to pass one of these exams.
Arcus heard that the National Diploma of Sorcery was particularly
challenging. It had been twenty years since these two exams came into
existence, and while more than a hundred people passed the Guild's exam
annually, the national exam had only eleven successful examinees to date,
which spoke volumes about its difficulty.
The bookstore wasn't what Arcus was after. Leaving it behind, he headed
toward his true goal, thoughts about his future with those exams lingering. It
wasn't long before he arrived at his destination: a large store which he was
already very familiar with. His first time here was with Craib, who introduced
him to the owner and some of the clerks. Now when he came alone, they
welcomed him like any other customer, despite his age.
"Hello?" Arcus announced his arrival as he pushed open the door.
He was immediately greeted by a smiling clerk, and one he had met
before: a short, stout man with slitted eyes.
"Ah, Arcus! Welcome! What can I help you with today?"
"I've come to purchase some Sorcerer's Silver," Arcus replied.
"Sorcerer's Silver, is it? I will get you some immediately."
"Oh! And I would like some green pigment too, if you wouldn't mind."
"Of course," said the clerk, asking one of his colleagues to procure the
goods.
Color choice was an important factor when engraving a spell, and each
spell had a different compatibility with different colors. Gold, cinnabar,
copper, and especially royal blue were among the most expensive and
correspondingly were said to have a stronger effect on the engraved spell.
It wasn't long until the clerk returned with Arcus's items.
"Here you are: Sorcerer's Silver and green pigment. Will that be all
today?"
"Yes, please," replied Arcus.
Taking Arcus's payment with a smile, the clerk thanked him cheerfully
for his patronage.
Arcus wandered the city a while longer but eventually decided to call it a
day. Just as he was about to make his way home...
"Stop it! Stay away from me!"
It sounded like a young girl, and one in trouble, judging by her tone ofvoice. Arcus searched the area for the source, leading him to a backstreet.
Should I go and get a guard? Arcus thought to himself. It might just have
been a scuffle between children. Shrieking children weren't hard to come by
in the plaza. Backstreets, however, were a different matter...
Although I'm just a child myself.
If Arcus didn't share that man's memories, he probably wouldn't be
making such a big deal of this situation. In the end, he decided to step into the
backstreet and find out what was going on. He was confident he could fall
back on his magic to defend himself, even from an adult.
It was just as he was investigating the street that a girl dashed from the
entrance to an alleyway right next to him. He found himself gasping in
surprise as the girl let out a small shriek. He stumbled backward, only just
avoiding her crashing into him. Though the girl lost her balance, she killed
her momentum by spinning around on the spot before righting herself. Arcus
was impressed with her agility.
She looked to be around the same age as Arcus. She had long black hair
that flowed down the back of her white cloak, a pretty face, and deep-blue
eyes.
Arcus could hear the whispers of men coming from behind her. He
strained his ears to listen.
"Where did she go?"
"This way! Come on!"
It didn't take a genius to figure out that the girl was being chased.
"H-Hey, I'm... I mean..." The girl spoke up, but she was having trouble
forming a coherent sentence. Arcus assumed she was trying to ask for help.
"This way!"
He wasted no time in grabbing her arm and pulled her back into the
alleyway. Peering around the corner, two shabby-looking men eventually
came into view.The men picked the street over for a trace of the girl, but after a while,
they gave up and started to head in a different direction. The girl let out a sigh
of relief.
"Thanks. You saved me."
"You're very welcome. May I ask who those men were?" Arcus replied.
"I'm not sure. I was just walking along when they surrounded me... and
when I ran away, they chased after me. Even when I ran into the alleyway,
they were right behind me! You'd think they'd give up sooner than that!" The
girl became more and more animated as she recited her tale.
"They sound like kidnappers or something to me," Arcus remarked.
"Uh-huh. Probably."
"We should take this opportunity to return to—"
"Hold on." The girl interrupted Arcus mid-sentence. He looked up at her
to see she'd pressed her finger to his lips.
Arcus fell silent, careful to keep his breathing quiet. He heard footsteps. It
seemed the girl had a good pair of ears on her.
"This way," the girl whispered, pointing deeper down the alleyway.
The two of them walked heel-toe further down the alley. Following the
dimly lit path, they made for an adjoining alleyway. The footsteps of their
pursuers grew steadily louder. The pair continued in search of a way out of
the labyrinth of backstreets.
"A dead end!" the girl gasped. "What do we do now?"
They were surrounded on three sides by high stone walls. The only way
out was to turn around. Perhaps pulling the girl back into the alleyway was a
mistake.
"Sorry. This is my fault," Arcus admitted.
"That's not true," objected the girl.
The two of them didn't have the time to work out their next step before
one of the men appeared. He wasn't one of the two in shabby clothing they
had seen before. He wore a dark brown cloak, and there was an air of
exhaustion around him. In terms of looks... it would probably be nicer not to
say anything at all.
The girl took a step forward, a determined glint in her eye.
"How did you know we were here?" she demanded.
"Just kept lookin' till I found ya, didn't I?" The man let out an unpleasant,
screechy laugh.