Master And Apprentice (3)

While Kardia was lost in thought, Noi—who had been gazing at the towering summer clouds—spoke up out of the blue.

“—Why do you think the sky is blue?”

The sudden question left Kardia unable to answer at once. He copied Noi and looked up, but of course no answer was written there.

Still, he disliked saying “I don’t know.”

“…Because the sun is blue?”

The answer he squeezed out was hardly satisfying.

Sunsets turned red by drinking in the sun’s orange. By that logic, maybe—but no matter how he tried to see it, the sun blazing above the clouds could never be called blue.

“A blue sun! That could be. It looks white from here, but perhaps up close it’s blue.”

Instead of laughing at him, Noi nodded, impressed.

“When I was an apprentice, my master asked me the same thing. I answered: so we can swim.”

Kardia had never imagined swimming through the sky. He traced Noi’s leap of thought.

“…Because it’s like the sea?”

“Exactly. Looks swimmable, doesn’t it?”

Now that she said it, it felt true. In fact, if Noi said so, it felt like one really could.

“But people can’t sprout a fish’s tail or a bird’s wings. I gave up on sky-swimming fairly early.”

Magic, which seemed all-powerful, had its drawbacks.

Interfering magically with things that possess mana was considered extremely difficult.

And “extremely difficult” was only used because no one had fully proven it impossible.

Among current mages, the prevailing view was: magic cannot interfere with things that possess mana.

In other words, “making wings grow on a person” was a dream even for magic.

The quantity of mana varied by species and individual. Some creatures, like Aiolographs, held only enough mana for small tasks; others, like dragons, boasted mana far exceeding a human’s.

Humans could hold more stable mana in their bodies than many magical beasts. Thus they tamed all manner of creatures and used them for daily life.

Casting spells consumed mana, but with adequate rest, it recovered.

From childhood, Noi’s reserves outstripped other mages by far. No one could match her.

So, as the kingdom’s greatest mage whose power dwarfed all others, she searched for a way to hammer at the laws of the world with pure mana.

Namely—here in the mountains, she researched whether an overwhelming flood of mana might let magic interfere with mana-bearing things.

Kardia, who had lived far from magic until now, grasped this after a single explanation.

“—Right, right. The reason the sky is blue!”

She clapped, admitting she had wandered off-topic. Her manner of speaking—and gestures—were a bit old-fashioned, but Kardia felt even that was part of what made his master the most adorable in the kingdom.

“They say it’s because of this land’s memory.”

“The land’s… memory?”

“Yes. This land remembers that the sky is blue. So even if it turns red, or yellow, or purple, in the end it returns to blue.”

Kardia watched Noi as she gazed upward. Even if it sounded far-fetched, when she said it he found himself believing. She had that kind of air about her.

“—Is it also the land’s memory that spring follows winter?”

The words slipped out. Noi looked down at him, eyes widening.

“A genius?!”

She scrubbed his hair playfully with her hand.

“Genius! You’re a genius! My apprentice is truly remarkable! Of course—that must be the land’s memory too.”

Noi laughed, bright as spring.

Kardia loved seeing this smile.

(As long as she smiles at me like this, surely—I’m allowed to stay.)

His heart was a tangle of calculation and fear, with fear usually winning. Only under this gaze did that fear disappear.

“Still—Kardia, you twist mana very well. It’s early, but we might move on. I’ve never seen a trainee learn so fast. Kardia!”

Along with her smile, she praised him with every gesture, to the absolute limit. It made him squirm, and he smiled shyly.

“A reward for a hardworking apprentice. Today, let’s go to the city together.”

By “city,” she meant the capital’s districts at the mountain’s foot—streets and houses crowding around the royal palace, always bustling.

It had been a while since he’d gone to town. Kardia’s face lit up, then clouded over at once.

“W-what’s wrong, Kardia?”

“…I don’t want to go to the city.”

“I see! Very well! Then we’ll stay home! There’s plenty of fun here too! We could kick a ball! Or blow up the shed if you like!”

In front of the downcast boy, Noi flung her hands and stamped her feet in comic protest. Ashamed to be making her worry, Kardia’s face darkened further.

Seeing this, Noi grunted “Ahh,” then “Uhh,” fell silent awhile, and finally spoke slowly.

“…But listen, Kardia. In the city we can eat sweets drenched in honey. There’ll surely be roast pigeon—and they might even have that trendy steamed turnip! I’ll buy you anything you want.”

Her whole pitch for the city was food; Kardia couldn’t help a faint smile.

At that hint of a smile, Noi plainly relaxed in relief.

Kardia understood why she wanted to take him to town.

It still bothered her that she hadn’t outfitted him with proper clothing.

In Esria, both men and women typically wore loose outer robes tied with a waist sash. Because of that, even though Noi’s clothes were big on him, he hadn’t felt much inconvenience—if anything, he felt shy wearing cloth so much finer than what he’d known.

The problem was shoes. There was no way a grown woman’s shoes would fit a boy. For now he wore improvised footwear: a fabric pouch with a thin wood sole cut to his size, tied at the ankle.

Noi bent her knees to meet his eyes.

“…If something worries you, your master will remove it. After all, I am the kingdom’s greatest mage.”

Peppermint eyes held his steadily.

Kardia’s lips trembled once; Noi took his hand. Her soft fingers wrapped around his small ones.

“Tell me. My dear Kardia.”

Her gentle voice seeped into him.

Unconsciously, he squeezed her hand.

(Is it alright… to rely on her?)

He hadn’t forgotten the pain of having his outstretched hand rejected. Since coming to Noi’s home, he dreamt of that night almost every evening.

But—he looked at his hand.

Even without reaching, it was already held. Before he could stretch it out, Noi had taken it.

(Really?)

He met Noi’s eyes. She nodded as if to say, “Trust me.”

Bolstered by courage, Kardia gripped her hand tight and spoke.

“—Because I’m the Demon King.”

“Human.”

Noi corrected him without a heartbeat’s pause.

It warmed him to be called “human.”

But the fact remained: the Demon King dwelled within him.

“Everyone but you… is weak.”

That was why he hated the idea of going to the city. If he lost control and became the Demon King, chaos would follow. Many might be caught up.

“There’s a church where I grew up. I don’t want anything to happen to them…”

He had more painful than happy memories of that place—but that didn’t mean he wished it destroyed.

Noi drew him into an embrace. Her body warmth gradually calmed him.

“You truly are a kind child.”

Her whisper was thin, trembling—tinged with tears.

“Rest easy. If anything happens, I’ll respond at once. I promise.”

“But there are many people in the city… we might get separated.”

“Then—”

Still holding his hand, Noi lifted their joined hands where he could see.

Her peppermint eyes, glazed with a sheen of tears, softened to gentle slits.

“We’ll be fine if we keep holding hands like this. Right?”