In a dark alleyway, far from the prying eyes of both the sun and the pedestrians, sat a girl, panting. Clad only in tattered robes, she rested herself against the dirty back wall of a desolate building, short arms hugging a book against her chest.

Any who saw this would likely avert their eyes. After all, there was no shortage of orphaned, abandoned children in the streets these days, and it was impossible to care about every single one. I can't afford to help them, would be the thought of most. Only city guards would bother themselves with going after a kid, and there were none around at this time of the day.

It would, however, be a problem if there were, for the volume this girl held was quite the valuable one. In fact, one could say it was near priceless.

"I actually did it…" she murmured to no one in particular.

This girl's appearance was not much different from any of the other pitiful, sorry kids that filled the city downtown. And yet, if one were to remove this unfortunate girl's hoodie at that very moment, they would find something that was exceedingly rare in a place so close to the slums.

This girl smiled. It was not the fake smile of gratitude that beggars gave to the rich passersby on carriages who spared them some measly change, nor was it the greedy smile of a merchant who had suddenly struck gold. It was instead a small, subdued smile, one that did not show in her ruby red eyes and evoked more melancholy than it did happiness.

This girl's name was Uruha Rushia, and she held a book on necromancy.

Around five years prior.

"What about her? Should we leave her here?"

"Eh, just let the child be. Ain't nothing we can do. Let's go, before others arrive."

Those hushed, deep voices were the first that Rushia remembered hearing that evening. They did not belong to her parents, to her acquaintances or even to any of her relatives. In fact, she had never heard them before, and she would never hear them again afterwards. Nonetheless, those voices were the ones that woke her up, and she was grateful for that, for she didn't know what would have happened if they had not.

As Rushia opened her eyes, she found she was lying down on her bed. Lifting herself up made the frame creak, and the bedroom, poorly illuminated by a small round window letting the moonlight in, was chilly, although not so much as to be uncomfortable.

Exploring the house quickly revealed there was some furniture missing, along with most of the food that had been stored in the kitchen. Worst, it was already nighttime, as her afternoon nap had lasted longer than usual.

Her parent's disappearance did not particularly worry her. They sometimes went away, leaving her alone with no explanation for days before returning, and by now she had just taken that as a simple fact of life. What did, instead, worry her were the strange voices she had heard and the food's disappearance. Her parents were unusually cautious, and made sure to always keep both windows and doors locked. Rushia herself had been taught how to do both from a young age.

I guess those men were thieves...

Due to her parent's secretive lifestyle, she had not come into contact with many other people during her short life. As a result, Rushia had become withdrawn and introverted to the point where she could be considered unsociable. Even if the men she had heard did not have any evil intentions, just the idea of two unknown people walking through her house was enough to send shudders down this girl's back. She silently thanked the gods they had left after seeing her.

I'll check the locks again. She decided on a whim.

As she wandered to the front of the house to examine the main door though, a sound made her stop dead in her tracks. It sounded odd, not unlike metal hitting against metal repeatedly, and it came from the same entrance she had decided to take a look at not a moment ago.

Hiding her small body behind a corner, Rushia fearfully peeked at the source of the sound. She truly hoped it was just her mom or her dad, but she had never seen them take that long to open the door. Minutes seemed to pass while she waited, frozen in place.

Finally, with a bone-chilling click, the lock came undone, the door opening ever so slightly. Her heart pounding, the young girl bit her lip. The lantern she had lit earlier cast her shadow on the main hall floor. She observed the small trembling yellow flame, perhaps hoping it would somehow disperse her fears. Eventually, the door creaked open, and a figure revealed itself.

Even in the dim house, she could tell it wasn't either of her parents.

The next thing Rushia remembered was running. She sprinted through the night town, taking roads at random, passing through alleys she had never seen, until she couldn't remember which way she had come from anymore. The strange figure had screamed something in her direction as she had darted past them but, apart from that, the only sound she had heard ever since she had started running was of her own feet hitting the freezing stone ground.

It's cold…

Her clothes were poorly suited to the night, and the howling winter wind quickly found its way in. It didn't take long for Rushia to stop feeling her extremities, but her legs kept going. She didn't know if she was being pursued, not daring to look back, but her terror was such that she refused to stop.

"Where's mom… where's dad…" she mumbled.

Her parents weren't exactly the most reliable, but as she found herself in this situation, Rushia couldn't help but wish they were there.

Cold…

As her running slowly became a sluggish walk, she suddenly realized she couldn't feel her legs. How long had they been like this? She did not know. The girl stumbled, nearly falling down.

I need to find some place to warm up…

Her vision was becoming blurry, but she managed to discern a large house not too far from where she was. There was light coming from the inside, even at this late hour. She was definitely scared of asking a stranger for help, but the situation had gotten to a point where she wouldn't last much longer if she didn't go inside. She moved herself as fast as her failing limbs allowed, stretching her arm in a desperate attempt to reach the seemingly ever-distant doorway.

However, as soon as it looked like there was hope to make it in time, her vision went black.

Ah… I'm falling.

The last thing Rushia saw was the cold, solid stone of the ground.

When she first woke up, before her consciousness had even fully returned, Rushia realized that she wasn't cold. In fact, the space around her felt warmer than usual. She spent a moment wondering if her parents had bought new covers before remembering the events of the previous day.

Groggily opening her eyes, she saw that she was still outside. The clear sky was adorned in dark blue tones, proof that day had not yet started. However, much to her surprise, she had been covered with an impressively thick red blanket, whose warmth reminded her of the fireplace her parents would set alight on special occasions.

Who…

She looked around, confused. She seemed to be in some sort of narrow alleyway, with a house directly in front and behind her. Still holding the surprisingly light and cozy blanket around her tiny frame, Rushia stood up and took a peek at the main street. Some distant voices made their way into her ears, but the street itself, as far as she could see, was empty.

What do I do now? I don't know where I am, and I doubt I can find the way back home. Actually, do I even want to go home? Rushia's thoughts swirled in her head as she came to terms with her situation.

It's not as if she didn't want to see her parents again; but she also wasn't sure if they would be home, even if she somehow managed to find it. Worse, the stranger could still be there. She recalled the frightening figure from yesterday, and a chill ran through her spine. It was enough for her to discard the idea.

But I can't just stay here…

The cold wouldn't be a problem thanks to the mysterious blanket, but she had no food or water, and her stomach was starting to hurt as she hadn't eaten since she had woken up the previous evening.

Rushia bit her fingernail. She wasn't sure what to do. Yesterday's desperate idea of asking for help from strangers seemed much less appealing now.

Wait… Where did that house go?

Her last memory had been walking in the direction of a big, illuminated house.

I woke up in an alleyway, so maybe…

Rushia walked out of the alley and peered in both directions.

Ah!

She had seen it during nighttime while on the verge of passing out, so she wasn't sure, but she felt that the house on the right was the one she had been walking to the prior night. She observed it cautiously, comparing it to other ones in the vicinity. Its three floors made it stand out, but besides that it was not unlike a regular stone-made house, complete with some small windows here and there to let the air in.

Taking care to not be seen, Rushia approached the entrance of the building. She wanted to knock on the door and beg for refuge, but lacked the courage to do so.

What would I even say? I'm pretty sure they will just shout at me, or worse…

One time, homeless children had knocked on her parents' door. Her father had immediately chased them out, threatening to call the guards. Later, he explained that giving even the slightest bit of food would lead to them coming back more and more often, until they were feeding all the vagrants in the neighbourhood.

Rushia believed she would suffer the same fate as those kids if she went knocking on random doors. Just imagining a stranger yelling at her made her tremble, and she soon gave up on that plan and kept walking, unsure of what to do. However, as she turned the corner of the house, something big suddenly appeared in her vision.

"Whoa!"

Rushia almost fell over before she was able to avoid crashing into the wall which had seemingly come out of nowhere. She took a few cautious steps back before slowly opening her eyes.

A window was open, exposing the interior of the house. What she had almost collided with was not a wall, but simply the exterior window shutter, which had been left ajar.

Oh, I guess the owner forgot to close this one.

Though she was wrapped up in the blanket, Rushia could still feel the bitter cold in her face even as daybreak approached. Someone with their windows open would surely feel it as well.

Could this mean… There's no one home?

Rushia stood still for a moment. If her parents were any indication, people were fairly cautious with their windows. An open window was easy access not only to burglars, but to any animals that might be wandering around the city. Which meant that this was an unique opportunity. If she was able to get something to eat, she might be able to hang on for at least a couple days. She felt herself getting hungrier by the minute, and there was likely not going to be another chance like this anytime soon, if at all.

But what if someone catches me…

If it turned out there was someone inside and she was cornered in an unfamiliar house with nowhere to run, she was doomed. At the very least, she would be handed over to the city guards, and who knows what they'd do with her. Worst case, she would be hurt and maybe even thrown outside the city.

The young girl bit her lip. Even knowing the extreme risks, there was no other way. She had been tossed into an unfamiliar place with no family or friends, and could very easily die if things went wrong, whether she went into the house or not. She had to go for the option that gave her the biggest chance to survive.

She looked at the blanket that she had been covering herself with. While it would be in the way in case she needed to run, surviving a winter night without it was out of the question. She decided to hang it on top of the shutter, praying that no ill-intentioned passersby happened to see it whilst she was gone.

Here we go.

Rushia's small body easily fit through the opening, and she got in. She found herself in a hallway of sorts, the sparse light from the rising sun barely illuminating its contours. In front of her extended a narrow corridor, and an old, brown-ish carpet with strange floral patterns had been placed over the wooden floor. She glanced at her surroundings, and discerned a stone-made, fancy-looking stairway that led to the upper floors. The house was in complete silence, leading to quite the eerie atmosphere. Although this did not help Rushia's nervousness, she felt perhaps even greater guilt. The silence likely meant that the owner really wasn't home, and they would return to find some of their food was missing. Even at her young age, she knew that her actions weren't the best.

No, I can't think like that. I need to live, too...

Rushia stood firm and advanced as slowly as she could, halting whenever she heard the floorboards creak under her feet. There were a few doors in the hallway, all of similar look, and so she picked the closest one, hoping it led to the kitchen. She gently opened it, silently praying it wouldn't make any noise.

The room she found herself in was pitch black.

"Oh?"

Somewhere, a mage sensed a change in the magic around him.

"It's been a long time since I had any intruders…" he mumbled to himself.

This mage was old, far too old for a human, and despite all his efforts and experimentations, his body wouldn't last for much longer on this earth. Even so, he was still quite powerful and more than capable of stopping anyone invading his private abode.

He slowly got up, ignoring his protesting muscles, and made his way to the desk, scratching the long beard which had faded to white too long ago for his memory to recall.

"Let's see now… Who is this trespasser?"

His working table was filled with strange inscriptions, complex magic circles that allowed him to perform countless spells without having to chant or do anything more than infuse his own magic and will into them. Some among these circles allowed him to perform spells that, as far as he knew, were yet to be discovered by someone else, and he had kept them a secret, fearing the consequences of making them known to the average mage.

It was one of these that lit up with an odd blue, making its intricate markings more visible for a moment before it went lightless once again.

"Ah… It's her."

The image of the petite invader materialised on the table. The mage wasn't particularly surprised. He did have hopes that the little girl whom he had prevented from dying of the winter chill would go back to wherever she had come from, but he figured that wasn't were far too many children in the streets these days. He knew it was a matter of time until one of them found their way to his house.

"In retrospect, I suppose I should have taken her somewhere else… Guess I'll just teleport her out." he sighed heavily.

Teleportation was a form of magic which, in succinct terms, allowed one to change the very fabric of the physical space. He reckoned he was fairly good at it, though he couldn't really judge his abilities as he had next to no contact with other high-level mages.

The strange girl was approaching one of the hallway doors, though very slowly as she was coming to a stop every couple steps.

It is a pity though. I wish I could help her with something more than that enchanted blanket.

The man started preparing the teleportation spell, but suddenly halted. Something was off.

"This reaction… Perhaps the girl has some magic affinity?"

This mage was particularly sensitive to magic. Any spellcaster could sense when a large amount of magic was present, but only a very experienced user was capable of noticing whenever it acted in a way that differed from the usual. And although it was very slight, the way the spell had reacted when it had been told to target this girl was not how he expected it to.

He tapped his fingers on the table. The girl was opening the door now, a door that would lead into his personal library.

"What kind of magic though, I wonder…"

Although any magic could be learned to an extent, some people were born with affinity to one particular type, and there was no way of knowing which one it was unless one were to train in thaumaturgy. It was not unheard of for poor villagers to have huge magic potential, but passing on before they ever made use of it simply because they did not even think of the possibility.

"Hmm…"

The old mage pondered for a moment. Ultimately, he was just doing this for his own curiosity. He had never taken an apprentice, and he sure wouldn't do it this late in life. Plus, he could not afford to take care of every single lost child he came across, whether they had magic affinity or not. But something about that green-haired girl, who had appeared so suddenly just as he was walking into his last days, made him curious.

He looked at one of the books on his table, illuminated by a never-ending candlelight. "The Art of Necromancy", read the title. It contained information that would be enough to get him executed in town, but it was also his final project before he left the world of the living.

Ah, to hell with it. I guess it can wait for a little longer. He smiled to himself.

With a snap of his fingers, the room the little girl was in lit up.

"Whoa!"

Rushia nearly screamed when the previously dark room suddenly became bright, light having appeared seemingly out of nowhere. She quickly put her hand over her mouth.

What just happened?!

She looked up. An expensive-looking, highly decorated chandelier hung from the ceiling, and the many candles in it were burning with a trembling flame, despite having been unlit just a moment prior. She stared at it in wonder. Was this some kind of magic?

However, Rushia soon forgot about it as she noticed the kind of place she was in.

Rows upon rows of large bookcases had been lined up both to the left and right walls, and each one seemed to be filled to the brim with books. There was only a small corridor in the center that allowed one to pass through the middle of these imposing shelves, and to do so felt akin to being transported to some great king's library in a fairy tale. Even Rushia, who was technically literate thanks to her parents' books on the alphabet but was not able to understand more than a couple simple words, could not help but awe at the sheer dimension of this room. She couldn't even begin to imagine just how much knowledge was stored in these walls.

Is this… some noble's house?

She had ran for quite a long time, but had she really gotten to the noble's district? Sure, this house was quite big, but she had imagined noble houses to look a bit more elegant. Its size aside, the exterior of this house looked almost like her own.

Taken in by her curiosity, Rushia took a few hesitant steps deeper into the room. Suddenly, she felt her stomach ache.

Ah… I came here for food.

She had almost forgotten her original goal. This was definitely not a place where food would be. Or so she thought, but as Rushia was turning back, a peculiar scent made its way to her nose.

...Honey?

There was a sweet quality to this smell that seemed to come from further inside.

Why would honey be in a library? I wonder if it's connected to the kitchen...

Spurred on by the pleasant smell, Rushia decided to proceed on. It didn't take long for her to arrive to the other side of the room. There, in a corner where one would expect another bookshelf, stood a small writing desk. It was covered in a simple white cloth and it seemed quite old, having only a single drawer.

However, on this ordinary desk, something quite unusual had been placed. A full loaf of bread, along with a large cutting knife, sat on it. Next to them was a half-open jar of honey, the one behind the sweet scent that had caught this girl's attention, and a blue cup filled with liquid, which upon closer inspection turned out to be milk. There was still vapor coming out of the recipient, proof that it had been warmed recently, and the bread appeared fresh.

Rushia felt her stomach growl. For someone who had not eaten anything in a while, to suddenly have the luxury of freshly-made bread with honey at the reach of her fingertips was almost unbearable. She wanted nothing more than to start eating it, but she could not help but feel hesitant. It seemed quite unnatural. Surely these couldn't have been placed there that long ago, and yet Rushia had not heard or seen anyone. The house was still the same as it had been when she had entered - in complete silence.

Would someone really just leave these here and go away?

She did not believe that anyone would waste food like that, noble or not. Not to mention, no one had entered or exited the house the whole time she had been observing it from the outside. It was far too strange. And yet, she couldn't just ignore what could be her first meal in a day. Her stomach grumbled once again.

I'll just eat a slice, and in case anyone comes I'll just run away. And even if worse comes to worse, I can use this bread knife. A single slice should be fine, though, right? She pondered.

…

Hours later, Rushia laid down on the wooden floor, stomach filled to the brim. She let out a small burp.

That was too good…

She had planned to eat only enough to keep her hunger at bay, but had ended up going through the entire bread, as well as the cup of milk and much of the honey. When she had reached about halfway through the fluffy loaf, she had paused her eating, feeling momentarily satisfied. In the meantime, she had decided to take a look at the multitude of books in the library. Though her reading skills were limited, just looking at the book covers was enough to fascinate her. Some were adorned with depictions of mages, warriors and beasts of ancient times, others were filled with strange inscriptions that she could not make sense of, and she had even found one with drawings of odd-looking creatures she had never seen. Even after browsing through aleatory volumes for a long time, she had barely left the bookshelves closest to her. In the end, she came back to the table to wolf down the rest of the food.

Despite the seemingly simple ingredients, Rushia did not remember the last time she had felt this full after eating.

The bread was so soft, it practically melted in the mouth… And it was still warm as well. The honey was amazingly sweet, almost candy-like… And the milk! I've never drank milk this delicious!

Rushia praised the tasty meal in her head. It was likely just the hunger talking, but she truly felt like she had never before taken in something that flavorful.

Who even made these and left them here… That should be a crime…

She was yet to hear anyone, despite having made quite a bit of noise while eating. The girl could not help but wonder about the identity of the house owner and the origin of her mysterious repast.

She extended a hand above her head, feeling her own body heavy against the solid ground. Somehow, this library felt almost warm. It was as if the cold outside did not affect it in the slightest.

"What a mysterious house…" she murmured to herself.

Not even a minute later, Rushia was sleeping soundly.