The Faraway Paladin Vol 4 Chapter 3

The Faraway Paladin Volume 4 Chapter 3

“Yeee, it’s chilly!”

“It is, isn’t it?”

Turning back the clock, it was a morning in the middle of winter, a few days after the winter solstice. I had a cloak with a hood on as I walked down the streets of Whitesails with my troubadour friend, Bee. Although she preferred light clothing, she couldn’t handle cold weather and was wearing a super thick, soft, and fluffy coat. Together with her height (the most distinguishing feature of halflings—she was only about the size of a young girl) and her soft red hair, she gave me the impression of an adorable little creature like a rabbit or something.


A thin layer of snow from the previous night lingered on the paths. Children were playing around on the streets and throwing snowballs at each other. It was very rare to see a white world like this in the warm climes of Southmark. The streets that normally looked so familiar were covered in pure white, giving me the impression that I’d wandered into a little pocket of alternate reality.

“It hasn’t snowed in forever!” Bee said, letting out a shrill cry of excitement. “So pretty!” She danced onto the snow with light feet, and after dashing forward a few steps, she spun playfully around and smiled broadly.

Very unusually, the snow that fell during the night had been enough to form a layer on the ground, so after randomly bumping into Bee in the hall of a lodge, I’d come out to have a look at the townscape with her. The snowy harbor was a fantastical sight, like something from a dream. Far away at sea, I could see the white sails of several ships.

“Did you have fun at the winter solstice festival?” she asked.

“I did. But it was tiring.”

“I bet. You have to pay attention to so many things. Like when you go around greeting all the important people with a smile. There’s no way that’s as easy as you make it look.”

“Yeah. Menel chose some clothes for me, and Bishop Bagley helped out, too. Thanks to them, I got through it somehow.”

“Oh! You had some new formal clothes made?”

“Yep. Oh, and Menel looked really cool in black.”

He had worn a conservative and graceful black satin outfit with deerskin boots and had tied up his hair. He would have upstaged actual nobility.

“Wow, I would’ve loved to see that. Menel does have a really pretty face, if nothing else!”

“Okay, okay, enough of that! How about you, did you make much money?”

She giggled proudly. “I’m raking it in with the dragon-slaying tale! Everybody and his uncle wants me to sing for them!”

The winter solstice was the greatest holiday this world had to offer. As the day with the fewest daylight hours in the whole year, it was used to mark the year’s end. In other words, it corresponded to what my old world called New Year’s Day.

There wasn’t much to do for fun during the winter in this era. Winter was normally spent working the looms, making rope, and eating unexciting food while awaiting the spring by the fireside. In times like this, the winter solstice was a precious break from the norm, and the villages, towns, and cities all celebrated it in a big way. I’d heard about the spectacle from Blood, Mary, and Gus way back when I was in the City of the Dead, but there was a big difference between hearing about and seeing.

Once the sun was seen to have risen on the morning of the winter solstice, whoever had been put in charge of the task would ring the city bell, or go around shouting the news if it was a village. At the temples, chapels, and shrines, the people showed their gratitude to the gods by slaughtering livestock or making offerings of flowers and incense. Trees from the woods were also cut down and burned in a bonfire in the town square as people danced. Of course, the cattle, pigs, and chickens that were slaughtered became the evening’s feast, a rowdy event with plenty of drinking and singing. Entertainers seized the chance to perform and went around making money. Market stalls popped up everywhere side by side, tempting passersby. The wealthy and people of status invited their associates to parties at their own homes to thank them for their daily work, expressing their gratitude to strengthen their connections. And all this razzmatazz continued for several days, including a modest pre-celebration. That was this world’s winter solstice festival.

Why did everyone make such a big deal of it? That was because the day when the sun lost most of its power was also the day when Evil gained in strength and attempted to infiltrate the circle of Good. Therefore, the point was to keep evil at bay by having a bright celebration, lighting bonfires, making sacrifices to the gods, and praying for the sun’s power to return. It sounds like an excuse for drunken antics, but I remembered that on the day before I turned fifteen, when I confronted the god of undeath, he—sorry, she—had actually used the words “When that accursed sun is at its weakest.” Probably, in this world, the winter solstice really was the day when evil gained in strength. It was the time when, in contrast to the cheerful celebration of people, those who believed in evil power—those deep in the dark woods or far away in the barren wastes or in the depths of the bogs—became even more menacing.

We had just passed by an alley with hardly anyone around. My imagination went in an unsettling direction, and I sank deep into thought.

“Hm? Hey, what’s with the gloomy face all of a sudden?”

“I was just thinking about whether it’s okay for me to be taking it easy here right now.”

The turmoil that accompanied the awakening of Valacirca didn’t just end when the foul-dragon was slain. The demons that had been driven from the Rust Mountains were still wandering all over the land. The territories of beasts shifted after they felt Valacirca awaken, and now they approached areas where people lived. And many unscrupulous individuals, some taken in by the evil gods and their kind, took this chaos as the perfect opportunity to commit a whole host of crimes. The aftereffects alone were too numerous to count. Things like that had created trouble all over Southmark, and I’d even heard that a few villages had fallen as a result, although I was yet to receive confirmation of this. This was what lurked under the surface of the good news that was the destruction of Valacirca and the celebration of the new year.

I’d come here because I was invited by His Excellency Ethel, Menel had given me a push, and I could leave Torch Port to Reystov and Anna. But even right this moment as I walked around with Bee, weren’t there things I could, should be doing instead? Like hunting even just one more beast, or going around providing healing to the villages?

After I explained these worries to Bee, she looked up at me with narrowed eyes and hummed vaguely. Wh-Why?

“Okay, so... Will, I know you must’ve asked Menel about this already. What did he say?”

“Well, about that—” I gave her a troubled look. “He just said, ‘Fig if I know. It’s the winter solstice, shut up already and lemme sleep for once.’”

She snickered.

“That’s so Menel.”

“Come on now, it’s not funny. I’m seriously worrying about this, okay?”

By now, Menel was probably in the room of the Whitesails lodge I’d reserved for him, sleeping in late and thoroughly enjoying it. It was very inefficient to walk around the vast region of Southmark without Menel’s fairy trails, so I couldn’t do anything right now even if I wanted to. Of course, Menel was my friend, not an employee or something. I couldn’t make him work. But that made my inability to act feel all the more stressful.

“Will, can we talk?” Bee moved to one side of the street, stopped walking, and looked up at me.

Because of her serious tone, I squatted down to meet her at eye level. Her eyes normally sparkled with curiosity and restlessly shifted focus, but now they were calm and looking straight at me. Suddenly she felt like the older one, with an adult expression nothing like her normal self. My heart skipped a beat.

“You’re taking on too much,” she said and flicked my forehead.

My hand instinctively flew to where I’d been hit. It hurt more than I would’ve thought.

“Will, look. The people who live on this continent are all either settlers who crossed the sea knowing what they were getting into, or their kids and grandkids.” She spoke in a clear, singsong voice, explaining things gently to me in the way a parent might. “They aren’t babies. They can make their own decisions in life. You’re not their one and only hope. You don’t have to watch over them every second of every day, y’know?”

“Well, yes, but...”

“If you know, then why do you have this thing about taking it all on yourself?”

“I swore an oath to my god. That as her blade I would drive away evil, and as her hands I would bring salvation to those in sorrow.”

That was the promise I’d made to receive protection from my god. Thanks to her, I defeated the god of undeath and was able to save my parents’ souls. And that wasn’t all. The god of the flame had guided me from the past life I vaguely remembered, full of anguish and regret, and allowed me to embark on a new life. When I agonized over whether to fight the dragon, she reassured me and gave me a push in the right direction. Thanks to her blessings, I was able to save a great number of wandering souls. At the end of the fight with the foul-dragon Valacirca, when I hit my limit, she protected me.

I’d received so many wonderful, resplendent things from my god. She probably wasn’t even looking for anything in return. That was why I wanted to return the favor. It wasn’t that I had to. I wanted to. I said this to Bee.

“Mm. Mm. I get you.” She nodded, a gentle smile on her face. “Overdoing it.” She flicked my forehead a second time, again before I was able to react, and again I covered my forehead, wincing. That hurt.

“You just can’t shake this side of you, can you?” She squeezed my cheeks between her hands. “Giving back to your god... I think that’s wonderful, don’t get me wrong. I support you, and I think it’s very noble to have that kind of spirit.”

Then, the girl in front of me with fluffy red hair looked straight into my eyes and said softly, “But if you want to give back, do it in a way that your god would feel good about, okay?”

I wasn’t sure I’d ever thought about that much.

“Feel good about?”

“Right.” Bee put her hands on her hips as if to say “I despair of you” and looked down at me. “Think about it. Let’s say someone handed you food, saying, ‘This is thanks for healing my wounds the other day.’”

“Okay.”

“And the person who handed it to you was all skin and bones and could barely stand, and looked like there was no way they’d eaten anything for at least three days.”

“I’d think, ‘What are you doing? Eat it yourself’... Oh.”

“See?”

If someone “gives back” by wearing themselves down, it troubles you and makes you worry. You can’t feel good about it. Receiving something back only makes you happy when it comes from someone who is happy themselves and can spare the gift. Then you can be proud of yourself for giving the right help to that person in the first place.

This life of mine was given to me by the god of the flame. Although I did have to fulfill my oath, if I became a slave to it and wore myself down, treated my life like it was worth nothing, brought anguish and regret upon myself, and died like that again, it would defeat the entire purpose. All the kindness my god had shown me in silently gathering the things I had once given up on and thrown away and giving them back to me—that would all be for nothing. In order to prove that the blissful gift my god had given me in guiding me to Blood, Mary, and Gus was right and gracious, I had to live right, so that the god of the flame could say proudly that she had helped me in the right way. To live right in this world—that was my resolution, and it dawned on me that I’d come close to losing sight of it.

“Experience the fun things in life! The little pleasures! Find true happiness! Eat tasty food! You can’t just let all that pass you by! And anyway, if the heroic, dragon-slaying Faraway Paladin is running around worried every single day, how d’you think everyone else is going to feel? Sure, I guess there are a lot of bad rumors going around that might or might not be true, that’s just what things are like right now, but if you just act cool about it, everyone else will ignore them, too! And plus—”

“Yeah,” I said as she rattled off everything she could think of to support me. “Thank you, Bee.” For reminding me of what was truly important, I gave her my heartfelt thanks. It was cold on this winter street covered in snow, but I felt a kind of gentle warmth inside my heart.

“Don’t mention it,” she said. “Wow, I’m awesome. I can preach to the Paladin.”

“Yeah. I didn’t know you were so good at that.”

Bee tilted her neck back slightly and gave a little proud laugh. I put my hands up, beaten. Then we chuckled together.

“Say, Bee?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to go someplace with me today? Wherever you want, just name it.”

“What’s this? I love your enthusiasm.” The girl with fluffy red hair made eyes at me and smiled coquettishly.

I blinked.

“Okay then,” she said, “I want to go to...”

She told me. I went pale.

“You’ll take me, right?”

◆

The woods in summer felt like they were full of life. However, in winter, the impression I got from them was very different. They were cold and quiet, and time seemed to flow slowly in them. It felt like they were sleeping and having a beautiful dream.

East of Whitesails, on the other side of the wall surrounding the city, there was a deep and dense patch of woods at the foot of some hills by the sea. Woods right beside a town would normally be cut down entirely within a short space of time to meet the demand for wood, but the trees here would probably never be felled. These were forbidden woods, which acted as a border separating the workaday world—including the city—from a certain institute: the Academy of Sages. The Southmark branch of an institute for sorcerers seeking the Words of Creation, it was located within the forbidden woods and shunned association with the everyday world.

When I came close enough to see the top of the institute beyond the snow-topped trees, I stopped in my tracks in spite of myself. The facility was enormous. Made of brick and protected by layer upon layer of Signs, it had high walls and many steeples, and arched walkways connecting each of its buildings. I knew what it looked like already, having seen it from afar in Whitesails, but now that I was close...

“Wow...”

I could tell that mana was swirling in a vortex around the facility. They had probably chosen to build it in a place where mana tended to collect naturally because of the geography. On top of that, because of the layers of Signs, the area around it had taken on a barrier-like aspect.

“Um, Bee?”

“What is it?”

As I gazed blankly at the sight in front of me, I said, “You really want to go to the Academy? You’re serious?”

“Seriously serious. There’s something I want to see.” Bee looked straight at the Academy’s towering spires. “That place isn’t somewhere a lowly poet like me can get into just by saying, ‘Can I come in for a sec?’”

“Yeah.”

The Academy of Sages distanced themselves a certain amount from the power structures of the ordinary world. The reason was simple: they had gotten too involved once before, and the result was oppression on a massive scale.

Since the pandemonium of two hundred years ago that had left many areas in a state of constant war, there had been an increase in the number of sorcerers who used the Words in service to their rulers so that they, the subjects, could be fed. In poems and songs, this was sometimes described in an extreme way as a growth in the number of “evil sorcerers.” Evil sorcerers rotted the land, stagnated the water, and spread diseases, or so they said. In actuality, it probably wasn’t all malice. There must have been a good number of gentle and kind sorcerers who decided to use Words in battle for the sake of the countries and villages they belonged to, out of the simple desire to protect the land and people close to them, or perhaps out of respect and devotion for a leader prepared to make hard decisions.

Even so, the poisons called anger and hate were a part of battle. In the same way that verbal arguments naturally get heated, when a battle got heated, the Words used became more aggressive. More opportunities soon arose to bring out a host of Cursed Words and formidable Taboo Words. And when everyone made frequent use of evil Words like these, those Word users and those around them naturally turned the same way. The land became barren, the water stagnated, diseases spread. People who feared this happening to them started witch hunts, and to get away from the witch hunts, talented sorcerers became even more dependent on those in power and sought their protection. This started a vicious cycle, and the social status of sorcerers fell dramatically for a time.

After that, several preeminent sages launched a crackdown. Political power and magic were kept a certain distance apart, and from that point on, the situation improved. However, even today, when sorcerers were seen as heroes and our power as awe-inspiring, I couldn’t deny that we were still also viewed as people to be feared who made use of questionable powers.

So, in order that young and immature students wouldn’t come into contact with the temptations of power and violence and behave in a way that would damage the reputation of sorcerers in the outside world, the Academy was very insular. Because of this, the only ones who could leave the Academy were those who had learned sufficient restraint as sorcerers and been given permission, or those skilled enough to escape.

Therefore, it was one thing for someone in a position like His Excellency Ethel or Bishop Bagley to enter the Academy, perhaps looking to appoint a few sages as temporary advisers or seeking a graduate sorcerer to employ, and it was another thing entirely for Bee to attempt it. The sages of the institute would take an exceedingly dim view of her request, not wanting her to come into contact with any of the young students. As she had said, it wasn’t the kind of place that would let her in just to satisfy her curiosity.

And yet sneaking in also looked difficult. The Signs I could see engraved on all those trees and rocks were probably measures against intruders, making use of the concentrated mana environment. They would probably prevent curious kids and burglars after the stores of magical wealth within from even getting close.

“But you could sneak in, couldn’t you? You’re not just a holy warrior, you’re an amazing sorcerer, right?”

That magic laid on the path winding through the woods was probably Maze Alley. And I could vaguely sense the presence of a ridiculously large number of other Signs off the path as well—warning alarms, temporary paralysis, sleep, blindness...

Sensing things in this way, I gradually built a rough understanding of everything around us. Then, turning to Bee, who was looking up at me expectantly, I nodded. Yeah. “It’s impossible!”

◆

“Whaaa?!”

“There’s no point in you going ‘Whaaa’...”

For starters, I wasn’t a burglar. I only had an amateur’s knowledge of breaking and entering, disarming traps, and other things like that. It goes without saying that people can’t do what they haven’t practiced, and I wasn’t about to say I could do something that I couldn’t. I explained that to Bee as she continually booed me, but she didn’t seem to accept it. “You could pull it off, couldn’t you, Will? You know, like, cleverly using muscle!”

“The only thing I can do with muscle in this situation is breaking in through the front entrance. Or maybe I could come up with some clever way to break in from a different angle.”

It would be impossible to sneak into a rigorously protected place like this with Bee alongside me. It wasn’t like she had any particular knowledge about how to do it successfully. It probably wouldn’t be impossible to break through by force, but that would be the same thing as directly declaring war on the Academy.

“Blood would rain from the skies. And I’m being kind of literal here.”

Although the Academy kept to themselves, they showed no mercy to those who violated their independent and closed-off nature. It was the only way an ivory tower could ever work in a world like this. If we tried to force our way in, it would ring the opening bell on a fight to the death.

“So, I’m sorry, but it’s too dangerous to sneak in without permission.”

Bee went a long time without saying anything, then finally said, “Okay.”

I told her I couldn’t guarantee her safety. She smiled back and looked up at the Academy, as though looking at something beyond her reach, with an expression as if she were stretching out a hand to the stars. I wondered what Bee wanted from the Academy. As I looked at her from the side, the red-haired troubadour had such a wistful smile...

“Well, if even you can’t do it, then that’s that, I guess!” The sad atmosphere quickly disappeared. “In that case, we’ve gone way off track, but why don’t we just go to a nice restaurant somewhere? You can treat me to some tasty food and drink and...” Bee didn’t pause for breath, smiling and talking in a cheerful voice that felt somehow fake.

Unable to stand seeing her like that, I gently took hold of her hand.

“Will?”

“Sneaking in is impossible...”

And it was. It was, but... after making Bee look so sad, saying I was just going to back out because it couldn’t be done would really be pathetic.

“Come with me a moment,” I said.

“Huh? Umm.”

I wasn’t very good at crafty things like creeping around quietly or sneaking in somewhere undetected. I could only think of one thing I could do for Bee, and it was far simpler.

“We’ll pay them a proper visit.”

I was going to knock on the door and plead with them with total sincerity.

Bee blinked a few times. Then a smile blossomed on her face and she gave me a big nod. “That’s a great idea!”

◆

Just as I’d anticipated, the way to the Academy of Sages was full of wonders. The path through the woods branched in several places, and I could tell that some very old and powerful magic was affecting my senses. It made me feel like a child who had lost sight of his parents and gotten himself lost. Or like a student walking through the dark and quiet corridors of his school at night to collect a forgotten possession, being startled for an instant by the echo of his own footsteps. It was a bizarre, uneasy feeling, as if my heart were being slowly gripped in icy hands.

“W-Wait... What?” Bee said suddenly. “Which way did we just come—what? I... I’m so confused...”

“It’s okay. Keep hold of my arm.”

After walking only a little way along the trail, Bee easily lost her sense of direction. As if overcome by terrible anxiety, she turned her head frantically and shrank in fear.

“No matter what, don’t let go,” I said.

I heard her breath catch. She looked up at me, wrapped both her arms around mine, and clung on tight. I could feel the fluffiness of her winter clothes as she squeezed my arm. Then, she groaned as if she had a headache. “What is this? What is this? Right and left, up and down... I know those words, but when I think about them, they don’t mean anything. Everything feels so wrong, I might be sick...”

“It’s okay. It’ll go back to normal soon. Bear with it for just a little longer.”

We were walking on snow, so it should have been easy to see our footsteps, but I still caught myself almost heading in totally the wrong direction.

The workings of Words related to positional perception had been turned ambiguous. Fast was slow. Near was far. Right was left and up was down. North was south and east was west. If I went forward I’d go back, and if I went back I’d go forward. It was like the fairy tales I remembered from my past world about mysterious dark forests. This was a fearsome barrier magic, passed down since days of old. It temporarily melted your perception of opposing language concepts into homogeneous sludge, luring people into the gaps between uncanny inverted thoughts. It was such a labyrinthine use of Words that I was prepared to call it art. Even I risked succumbing to it if I wasn’t careful.

I strained my senses, concentrated on the flow of mana within my body, and resisted the magic. Scanning my surroundings, I walked forward very cautiously, taking each step one at a time. After a while, we reached a place where the path split left and right. I stopped walking and frowned.

“This is just mean,” I said.

“Wh-Which one’s the wrong one?”

By way of response, I drew several auxiliary Signs, my finger dancing through the air, then incanted a Word in three parts. “Ne fronti crede.”

The Word of Misdirection broke. The illusion dissipated like mist, and another path leading forward revealed itself in front of us. They had presented us two choices, left and right, and hidden a third through illusion. Bee blinked as if she couldn’t believe her eyes. I almost overlooked that one myself. I would have missed it if Gus hadn’t taught me the trick to placing illusions.

To the side of the newly created path, there was a tree with a single character carved into it. It was a Word of Creation, but since it was deliberately corrupted at the appropriate points to prevent it from having any magical effect, it was probably a message addressed to visitors.

“Aut disce, aut discede.” Either learn, or leave.

Realizing the meaning behind that rhyming phrase, I gave a short laugh. It seemed that the formidable magical barrier had barely begun to test us.

“Will, are you okay?” I wasn’t sure what Bee had made of my wry smile, but she looked at me with concern. “I heard that even the Wandering Sage couldn’t make it through Maze Alley under his own power when he was young. Don’t push yourself too hard, okay?”

At those words, my mind ground to a halt.

“He couldn’t make it through?”

“That’s right. Even Gus the Sage, an incredible child prodigy, couldn’t so much as knock on the door to Grassland’s Academy of Sages without his teacher’s help. It was the chapter of his life where he discovered his own immaturity.”

Huh. So Gus couldn’t get past this when he was young.

I imagined a precocious and clever-looking boy grinding his teeth in annoyance at not being able to break through the barrier. Then the boy grew rapidly older, and when he had turned into the figure of the old man I knew so well, he barked an order at me.

You, boy, had better get it first time! Understood?

Yes, yes, I said to him, giving a resigned laugh inside my head.

◆

The attempt to break through Maze Alley continued. There were large-scale spells that affected visitors’ perception and concept of language, and non-magical tricks to throw off your positional sense, like thick bushes that blocked line of sight and paths that were very slightly curved. The path made use of every kind of gimmick to deny entrance to intruders. The one that we ran into towards the end was especially impressive.

“Wow...”

“Eek!”

Faces had been carved into the trees on either side of the path we were walking down. Because of the texture of the bark, they reminded me of old people. Their mouths were shut into a thin line, and their vacant eyes—cavities hollowed deeply out of the tree—were open eerily wide and staring hatefully. Thick, dark-red sap dripped like tears from the dug-out holes, making the faces look even more disturbing.

“What is that, a curse? W-Will, I... those things make me feel really uneasy...”

“I don’t sense much mana at work, but...”

“I-Isn’t that what makes it suspicious? Using something obviously suspicious to hide a much smaller trick! That’s a classic!”

“I didn’t think of that...” I examined the mouths carved into the trees closely. “Ah!”

They were simply engraved with a Sign that had the effect of making someone feel very slightly anxious. Far from a curse, the Sign only had one very subtle effect. It was a weak, trivial spell, the kind that a powerful sorcerer could incant without raising any suspicion in a healthy-minded person, even if they didn’t know of magic. But it was enough to accelerate the anxiety already created by the unsettling carvings in the trees. If we had continued forward without noticing, we would have become overcome by a groundless worry that we were on the wrong path, that we had already gone wrong, and we eventually would have made a fatal mistake in our choice of route. The magic itself was subtle and designed to be masked by the emotions you would already feel after seeing the faces, so it was hard to detect. It was an exemplary trick for constructing a barrier.

“Thanks, Bee.”

“No sweat. This one’s not for me.”

“You’re not kidding. Fortia.” I cast a Word to resist the effect.

“I could sing a tale of adventure about just this one thing.”

“Seriously.”

Using a path like this all the time would definitely be inconvenient, so I was sure there had to be a back entrance somewhere. Even so, I could tell that the Academy really didn’t want to make it easy for people from the outside world to visit. Turning up at the side entrance to ask for something important would go against etiquette and provide an excuse for the Academy to turn you away, and you could forget about paying a polite visit using the front entrance—the glut of tricks in the woods would ensure that you couldn’t even reach it in the first place. The lengths the Academy had gone to actually felt a bit obstinate.

We moved on, and as I started to wonder how much longer we had to go, the way before us suddenly opened up, and I heard a voice.

“Hello, do I have visitors?”

◆

I heard the sound of a mass of snow falling from a tree and landing heavily on the ground. The way ahead had opened, and beyond the trees was a glade turned completely white with snow. Part of the glade was occupied by a small and aged-looking shrine. Judging by the emblem, it was a shrine to the one-eyed god of knowledge, Enlight. Within the shrine’s boundaries, an old man sat on a log in front of a smoldering fire. Maybe the firewood was damp. The old man poked at it with a tree branch, looking dissatisfied.

He was a gray-haired man sporting a fine beard, with narrow eyes, hollow cheeks, and a somewhat bent back. He was dressed in a tidy set of work clothes with some mud around the pant cuffs, and a billhook and a sickle among other tools were attached to his belt. Nothing about him left any kind of strong impression. He looked like the kind of gentle old caretaker you might see anywhere.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” I said, placing one hand over the left side of my chest and pulling my leg back slightly. “My name is William G. Maryblood.”

“I’m Bee. Robina Goodfellow!” Bee followed up cheerfully. “May we inquire your name, good sir?”

The old man smiled faintly and chuckled. “I am nothing more than the Academy’s old and decrepit groundskeeper. I am certainly no one notable enough to give his name to a dragon-slaying hero. Come, you must be cold. Why not rest a while?” Dodging Bee’s question, he beckoned us over and gestured for us to warm ourselves by the fire.

“Thank you very much, sir.”

Although it was thin on the ground, we had been walking on a snow-covered path for a while, and my shoes had gotten quite wet. I was grateful for the fire, even if it was only smoldering. I bowed my head a little to him in thanks, and Bee and I took him up on his offer.

“I was wondering,” Bee said to the old groundskeeper, “is it far from here to the Academy?”

I could see the institute through the gaps between the trees, and it looked like we still had a way to go. We’d walked a good distance already, but if anything, it felt like we’d only gotten farther away.

“Hmm. Young miss, what reason could you have for going to the Academy? Unless I’m mistaken, you don’t appear to be a new student.”

“There’s something I want to see,” Bee said straight-out.

The old groundskeeper hummed thoughtfully, stroking his beard with a slow and deliberate motion from his jaw all the way to the tip. “But the Academy has a rule of closing its gates to those who are not sorcerers themselves...”

“Our intention is to go and ask whether we could be permitted a brief tour,” I said. “It might be an inconvenience, but we’ll be taking care not to cause any trouble.”

“I see.” The old man stroked his gray beard all the way down to its tip again. “I hope that goes well for you.” He smiled warmly. Then, he fished through a bag next to him, took out a few pieces of cheese, and stuck them onto twigs. “Heat them up before you eat. They’ll warm you right up. Go on.”

After thanking him, Bee and I held the cheese over the fire. Once it was slightly melty, I brought the cheese to my mouth. Alongside the melt-in-your-mouth softness of the cheese, its distinctive aroma filled my nose and its rich flavor spread around my tongue.

“Mmm, that’s so good!” Bee was in heaven, with her eyes closed and a hand against one cheek. “This cheese must be made from goat’s milk!”

“Very perceptive. Take a few more if you like it.”

“Yay!” Bee cheered.

Getting even this far had been pretty nerve-wracking, so we were both happy for a fire and warm food. I couldn’t be as animated as Bee, but I ate the goat’s cheese with a huge smile on my face. This really was good!

“Oh yes, Faraway Paladin, I hear that you have a grounding in magic?”

“I have been taught to some level.”

The old man gave a meaningful hum and spoke quietly. “As groundskeeper, I sometimes have the chance to witness the magic of the students at the Academy and, well, I would dearly like to see what the magic of a dragon-slaying hero is like.”

Bee and I exchanged glances. That question was definitely a test. There was no way an ordinary old man would be in a place like this. And if he was asking me to use magic for him out of curiosity...

“Magic cannot be used frivolously. I hope you understand.”

“Is that so...” The old groundskeeper again stroked his beard. “I can’t possibly convince you?”

“I’m very sorry.”

“Is that your usual attitude to these things?”

“Yes. Those words are my teacher’s, and I make an effort to abide by them.”

Just as I had learned from Gus when I was young, magic was a dangerous thing not under humans’ complete control. Small magic used efficiently was the fundamental rule, and ideally not even that. It wasn’t a good idea to recklessly make a spectacle of magic just because someone asked.

“Hmm. Hmmm.” The aged groundskeeper stroked his beard with the same slow motion. “Then may I ask a favor of you?”

“And what might that be?”

“The trees are very damp from last night’s snowfall, and the fire is having a hard time catching today. It’s making things very hard on these old bones.” The fire was certainly giving off a lot of smoke and looked like it could easily sputter out. “I’d like some dry firewood. Could I ask your help?” He smiled. “You can use magic if you like.”

◆

It would only have taken a single Word—Siccus—for me to solve this problem. But the old man was smiling and watching us.

“We’ll collect some branches from the woods.”

The branches lying all about the woods were probably all damp, but that wasn’t a difficult problem for either Bee or myself to solve. We nodded at each other. Then, together, we collected some branches, borrowed the old man’s billhook to cut them to roughly the same size, and placed the damp branches in groups by the fire. After a little while, steam started pouring from the ends of the sticks. Easy enough. If this was some kind of test, then what was being tested was whether we had the commonplace knowledge that damp wood should be dried by a fire.

“Oh, I’m very grateful. That’s much warmer.” The groundskeeper sat in front of the stronger fire with a good-natured smile on his face.

If he had been testing us, some kind of reaction could have been expected, but he said nothing about passing or failing. He just gave us a friendly smile, offered us more cheese and bread, and started making small talk, asking us in a gentle tone whether we had a good time at the winter solstice festival. Maybe I was too on edge. Maybe this old man really was just a simple groundskeeper? I thought about it for a moment. It was true that something felt a bit off, but it wasn’t as if I couldn’t think of any number of explanations. In that case, staying here would be a waste of time. I had to take Bee to the Academy. Maybe it would be better if we took our leave and started searching for the next path...

— Experience the fun things in life! The little pleasures! Find true happiness! Eat tasty food! You can’t just let all that pass you by!

Bee’s words came back to me. I let out a small laugh at myself. I was acting hasty again. It seemed to be a bad habit of mine. I was like this that time I got into a fight with Menel, too.

“You have good taste, old man!” Bee said cheerfully. “This is all really good!” Bee had a smile on her face as she enjoyed the bread and cheese, and even started thrumming her rebec. Maybe she was just in that much of a good mood. There was no sign of haste in her expression at all.

So I decided to learn from her and take it easy as well. After all, we’d come out together today for fun. There had never been any need to take the shortest distance to our objective. There was no point in getting impatient and rushing things.

I stepped back for a moment. I was on an expedition with a troubadour girl through a magical forest where sorcerers lived, sitting around a fire with an old man who was a groundskeeper. This was an exciting experience I could never have imagined having in my previous life. How could I not make the most of this?!

In the winter woods, we sat around the fire and talked and laughed about little things we remembered from past journeys, our favorite foods, and our stupid mistakes. I listened to Bee’s songs, enraptured, and applauded her.

At a certain point, the old groundskeeper asked us a question. “If I may ask a question of the two of you,” he began. “Supposing there is such a thing as ‘great magic’ in this world—what do you think it is?”

Great magic. Hmm. I started to think a bit about it—but Bee answered off the cuff.

“Magic that makes people happy?”

Her answer was like a revelation to me.

“It could be the simplest Word for a distraction or the most wonderfully complicated and artistic Sign. I think they’re all as great as one another if they’re woven with a wish for happiness.” Her words, spoken with a smile as radiant as the sun, echoed around the woods and were absorbed by the snow.

“That’s a fascinating opinion. Why do you think that, young miss?”

“Because that’s the way Will actually uses magic! That’s why I quite like him. I really don’t think much about the way he keeps putting his own happiness second, though!”

“I see, I see.” The old gatekeeper stroked his beard one more time. “Marvellous.”

The next moment, to my total shock and confusion, the scenery warped. The next thing I knew, a wall stretched out before me. The woods around where the shrine had been were gone. The steeples I’d seen in the distance were gone. And we were right in front of the enormous door to the Academy of Sages.

Bee had eyes like saucers, and I unconsciously steeled myself. This probably wasn’t teleportation. More likely, we had been deceived by an illusion and hadn’t been able to notice that the true Academy was right beside us.

“Allow me to introduce myself properly.”

But when on earth had he done it? How had he cast that on us? I was being vigilant—at least, I thought I was—

“I am a professor at the Academy of Sages, the Master of Woods, Master Hiram.” The old man smiled and stroked his beard. “I am also the groundskeeper.”

◆

“I will make a small exception for you and take personal responsibility for your tour.”

And so, without any trouble, we got permission to go inside the Academy. It seemed that the old groundskeeper, a.k.a. Master Hiram, had indeed been testing us.

“Young miss who plays wonderful songs, what is it that you desire to see in the Academy?”

“Mm, well...” Bee smiled and whispered something into the old man’s ear.

“I see,” Master Hiram said, nodding and stroking his gray beard again. “Words can be blunt or sharp, light or heavy, depending on how one chooses to use them.” He put out the fire. “I can see that you two are not the type to injure yourselves with your own Words.” After giving us that aphorism to think over, he said, “I did enjoy that. Well, off we go, then.”

Master Hiram headed for the Academy with a spring in his step. Reaching the entrance, he spoke a couple of Words. The massive door slowly ground open. Though his appearance, the impression he gave off, and everything else about him were totally different, for some reason, I saw Gus’s back overlap with his. And then—

“Wow, what?! What is that?! A doll is doing the cleaning?!” The very moment after Master Hiram led us inside the Academy, Bee started getting really worked up.

“That is a golem made by a previous Master of Forms. Very useful.”

Immediately after we had gone through the main entrance, Master Hiram, who had agreed to show us around, directed our attention to a courtyard with a fountain, surrounded by hallways. There, a doll was sweeping up. It was a type of golem, I supposed, with a somehow feminine shape.

It must have taken an awful lot of artistic talent to create something like this. Magic in this world was unstable. It varied so much that the concentration of mana where you happened to be could determine whether your magic worked or didn’t work at all. This place called the Academy of Sages seemed to have been built on land where the mana tended to be relatively strong and stable; but even so, something incredibly elaborate must have been devised to get a doll of that complexity to function reliably. I figured there was probably some kind of mechanism that helped it to maintain stable operation, something corresponding to the escapement in a clock, but I couldn’t begin to imagine how to construct something like that. I felt like the laborious study that must have been needed to get this working must have been similar to putting together an utterly enormous jigsaw puzzle, even in terms of the effort required to put appropriate Signs together in just the right way. There was no doubt that more than a couple of years had been invested in this.

“What’s that? That table! What?! I can’t quite tell how long it is! Wow!”

Master Hiram laughed. “Strange, isn’t it?”

There were several students sitting at a table. It looked like both a long table that could seat a hundred people having lunch and a little desk that could only fit four or five people around it. What a strange sight. This is a real world of magic, I thought, and then Master Hiram ruined it. “That is a lecture dedicated to memorizing Words representing various objects.”

Bee made a disgusted noise. “Did you do that too, Will?”

“You bet I did. You have to cram and cram that stuff, there’s no other way.”

I could also see a classroom where a dozen or so students were heads-down at their wax tablets toiling away at a copying exercise. It reminded me of schools from my past world. In the end, magic came down to whether you knew what specific Words referred to, so memorization and repetition were the most important fundamentals.

“That building over there is the student housing.”

As far as I could tell by looking through the windows, the students had shared dorms with four to a room.

Children who were judged as having an aptitude for magic came from all over to the Academy in Whitesails to receive an education. Some went on to become teachers at the Academy, while others returned to their homes and became local conjurers. The especially talented ones were hired for positions that suited them.

“Now that I think about it...”

How could you tell when someone had a talent for magic? I’d had Gus ever since I was young, and he’d seen talent in me and taught me, so I knew nothing about that kind of thing. Being able to see fairies was an easy sign for people like Menel, and priests received revelations in some form from their gods, so it was easy for them to tell as well. But talent in using the Words of Creation was fundamentally something that had to be fostered through hard work. Wouldn’t it be hard to discover? Curious, I asked Master Hiram this question.

“The words of children with the talent to become sorcerers have power.”

“Power?”

“Yes. Here, we use the Words of Creation, but the Common Tongue has its roots in the same place, if you trace them back. So those words too have power, although extremely weak. Recognizable signs like that naturally occur in the case of a talented child.”

“Oh, I know about that,” Bee said. “What’s a good example...?”

When a talented child who didn’t know how to control their power yet cheered for someone and really meant it, for example, the person they were cheering on could feel an unusual rush and their abilities could be amplified. Or, conversely, any truly hate-filled language they used could result in physical damage. Strange phenomena like that surrounded children with talent in using Words, so unless the child was extremely quiet, it was said to be possible to tell by the time they were about ten years old. And except in rural areas far from civilization, once a child like that was understood to have talent as a sorcerer, a nearby sorcerer would take charge of them.

“Sorcerers in different parts of the world network like that, taking new apprentices or handing them over to other sorcerers,” Bee said. “They develop them a little, and if they seem promising, send them to some academy.”

In other words, in terms of my previous world, the sorcerer apprenticeship system corresponded to primary education, and the Academy was higher education.

“Yes. Although it’s possible to determine talent to a certain extent, there are other factors, such as whether there is a family business they need to inherit, or whether or not they have the right character. So there are cases when we only teach them how to prevent their power from bursting out of control, then immediately send them home.”

“Character?”

“Often said to be most important of all, yes. Far more important than brains, determination, or enunciation.”

Correctly taking my silence as a prompt to elaborate, he continued. “It is said that the people best suited to be sorcerers are meek, easygoing, patient, and reticent. Those who are fierce by nature eventually end up using violent Words. And when someone gets used to spitting out violent Words, sooner or later, it will be their undoing. Words are dangerous things. Those of fiery temperament don’t live long lives.”

Gus had taught me plenty of those cautionary tales when I was young. There was the sorcerer who tried to reshape the nearby terrain, triggered a huge earthquake, and was swallowed up into a deep fissure. Another sorcerer periodically manipulated the weather and ended up destabilizing the area’s climate and being tormented by hunger. One sorcerer succeeded in transmogrifying himself into an animal—mental faculties and all. A sorcerer directed a powerful decomposition magic at his sworn enemy, got tongue-tied out of sheer hatred and anger, and blew himself to pieces. There was even one about a sorcerer who opened a hole to another dimension and got eaten by something inside.

This was probably a universally shared lesson among those who dealt with magic. The same warnings I’d heard from Gus ran deep within this institute as well.

“That all being said, letting too much poison build inside the heart is also a cause of emotional outbursts and a recipe for ruin. As with everything, it is important to strike a balance.” Master Hiram shrugged.

Bee was nodding along, impressed.

“Well, here we are.” After we’d passed between several buildings, our footfalls stopped in front of a certain door. “The Academy library, just as you asked.”

◆

“You have my personal authorization to browse all parts of the library except for the forbidden shelves underground.” Master Hiram gestured towards the entrance to the library, which was a large set of double doors, probably for some reason to do with how the books were brought in and out.

“Thank you so very much for entertaining my unreasonable request. Great Master of Woods, Master Hiram, skilled wielder of Words, protector of forbidden regions, you have my most heartfelt gratitude and admiration.” Pinching the hem of her coat, Bee gave an elegant bow. She wasn’t speaking in her normal bright and cheerful voice. It was the calm voice of an adult lady.

I followed her lead and bowed as well.

Master Hiram smiled. “Well then, I will be in the courtyard. Please call for me again when you finish reading.” And he left.

Still, this was pretty surprising.

“So you were looking for a book, Bee?”

“Yep, that’s what I wanted to see. Surprised? I can read!”

“Yeah, I am a bit.”

I’d been assuming that she wanted to see what it was like inside the sorcerers’ place of learning that was sung about in so many songs. The literacy rate in this world was pretty low. That was why troubadours and singers served such a useful role as the oral media. I would never have expected that a troubadour like Bee could read and had her sights on the library.

“There’s a certain book I’m looking for. Well, you’ll see, let’s just go in.” Bee opened the door with her small and chubby hands. Lit by magical light, rows of shelves stretched before us. The smell of ink tickled my nostrils.

“Do you want me to help you look?” I asked.

“Hmm... I’ll look by myself for now. Sorry, you brought me all this way, and now you might just end up being bored.”

I laughed. “I could never be bored with this much to read.” I stepped into the room as I spoke.

To my surprise, the Academy’s library was smaller than I expected—about the size of a library room in a public hall. I had a moment of confusion before a second thought changed my mind. The only reason this seemed strange was because I was comparing it to my memories of the dedicated large-scale libraries from my previous world, where printing technology was widespread and the literacy rate was extremely high. By this world’s standards, this was definitely big. It was probably the largest of its kind in Southmark.

I flipped through a few books just to have a look, and as expected, the books for beginners—textbooks teaching the basics of reading, writing, and arithmetic—were woodblock-printed, while the majority of the specialist books were handwritten copies. It was probably an issue of demand. Carving out a woodblock for printing a book was an involved process requiring multiple people. Unless you could expect the book to sell a certain amount, the sales wouldn’t be enough to recoup the costs invested.

Printing technology and literacy rate are more or less correlated. As printing technology improves, books become cheaper and more widespread, and the literacy rate rises. As the literacy rate rises, demand for books increases, and printing technology improves further. At some point, the line representing those two statistics should rise sharply, but this world probably hadn’t reached that point yet.

I flicked through a few books idly while thinking this, and then, deciding to read something myself, I picked up one that billed itself as an introduction to the history of magic. Gus’s lessons had given me a good grounding in magic, but I wanted to gain an understanding of how the theory had changed in the two centuries that Gus had no knowledge of. I sat in front of the bookrests that were probably meant for people to use while browsing and started to turn the pages.

Shortly after, Bee came back holding two old and quite large books with elaborate bindings. She groaned with the weight of them. They looked pretty heavy for her—she did have the small body of a halfling, after all. In terms of my previous world, the illuminated manuscripts of this age were like coffee table books, with pages that were thick and not designed to be quickly flipped through.

“I’ll hold them,” I said.

“Thanks,” she grunted back.

As I helped her place the books on a couple of bookrests, I caught a glance of the titles. One was an index of the graduates of the Academy. The other was a book on local history and affairs, covering the recent history of distant regions and associated rumors.

◆

After that, we spent a lot of time absorbed in our books, then said our thanks to Master Hiram and departed the Academy. A small path was pointed out to us for our journey back through the woods. After a short walk in a straight line, we were suddenly outside the forest. The woods’ wonderful strangeness astonished us once again.

Bee and I walked alongside each other as we headed back to Whitesails.

“Say, Bee...”

“You want to know what the books were?”

I nodded. Bee’s line of work meant that she always wanted material for songs and poems, but I couldn’t imagine that she would go to this much effort just for that. She would be better off just using her imagination to come up with a story. And anyway, if that were her goal, she wouldn’t have searched for the graduate index.

“Hmm...” Bee seemed to be taking a moment to think about what to say. She was normally cheerful and childlike, but at times like this, she had a grown-up aura about her. Then, with wistful eyes, she said quietly, “There was someone I traveled with a long time ago, when I wasn’t doing my troubadour thing yet.”

When I saw her expression, nothing felt right to say. So I just walked beside her in silence. The evening sun had started to set. Its warm light shone on the snow, making it sparkle.

“She had hair the color of old gold and clear-blue eyes like the sea. She was very pretty. We happened to be going the same way, and we got on pretty well. I learned later that she was an incredible sorceress.”

Saying nothing, I just matched my pace with hers and watched the setting sun as the words spilled from her mouth.

“She was apparently going around visiting ruins all over in search of Signs lost to time. But she was a good person, the kind who’d make it her business to help people with their problems, whatever they were. Her name isn’t very well known, but in that region, she was often called a ‘hero.’ And that was true. She was good with a cane staff, she was sharp and witty. Golem magic was her specialty. She was amazing at it. And I started having a lot of fun with her, so I went way off-track just so we could stick together. And then we finally got to a place where we had to go our separate ways, we waved to each other and said, ‘See you again.’”

Bee had a nostalgic, faraway look in her eyes. “She died right after we split up. I heard she went down fighting, protecting a town from a big goblin raid.”

“Wow, that’s, uh—”

“Oh, don’t get the wrong idea! Her death isn’t what bothers me. Sure, it’s sad, but she must have accepted it when she decided to fight, y’know? It was her decision to make. I’d never say she shouldn’t have done it, that’s not my style. But... you know.” Her expression clouded over. “I just really don’t like the way that her courage just got forgotten about right away.” Bee explained that although the hero’s death was mourned, as people were swept along by everyday life, she was soon forgotten, with fewer and fewer people mentioning her name.

This world was dangerous. Heroes, too, were born into this world without notice and left it just as quietly. That was just how things were. But even so...

“She was exalted, thanked—and then she died, and everyone just dropped her. That’s horrible. When someone shows courage like that, you don’t just use them and throw them away.” Bee’s voice was filled with striking determination. “So I started singing. Determined to carry on her memory on through song.”

As we walked down the path lit by the setting sun, the bustle of people hurrying home drew closer.

“But once I started, I realized,” she said.

“Realized what?”

“Stories about heroes—they hold hope.”

There’s someone out there with outstanding strength and magical power trying to save

 people. Someone’s fighting. Has been fighting.

“For everyone else, you know, that gives them... quite a lot of hope. Hearing that someone’s out there. Like the Three Heroes you love. Or like you, now.” She smiled at me. “Look.” She pointed. The first star of the evening was shining in the sky. “That star that’s the very first to shine, before the darkness of night falls. That’s a hero.”

She looked back at me. “Like when Menel started acting super motivated, or when Reystov kinda decided to start sticking around you—when you walk, people follow. Isn’t that amazing?”

“Yeah.” I nodded with a smile. After all, she was right. Even now, I was still following. Still following the three who had come before me. And if there were people out there following me, that had to mean that the three lives that had cast light on me hadn’t done so for nothing.

“That’s why I sing. To show people the shining stars.” Bee dashed a few steps ahead and spun around, showing me a beautiful, beaming smile. I couldn’t help but smile back.

Then, she let out a high-pitched sigh of relief. “That’s enough about me! Hmm, all that talking about heroes has made me want to sing!”

“Why don’t we go somewhere you can do that, then?”

“Good idea, very good idea! Why don’t we make a bit of cash? Okay, while I have you, you can help me keep the crowd interested and be in charge of picking up the tips!”

“You’re on.”

I doubted that Bee would stick around here with me. Her creed, to seek and spread tales, didn’t see staying in one place as a good thing. But I was sure that if she did leave, someday, she would return.

“When you finish your song about that sorceress, let me hear it.”

Bee nodded. “Sure, I’ll play it for you. I’ve got all the information I need now!”

And I was sure that if I fell in battle somewhere someday—

“Making the Paladin pick up my coins! Yep, I’m living the high life!”

Laughing together, we headed for the city square.