Dear Not Cunning Witch

Side Story: Oliver Fenley
Part 1

There had once been an old city named Gopado by the banks of the Ubè River.

Cities weren’t as commonplace back then as they were now, so Gopado was where all the goods and people in the region used to gather. Everyone had to twpass through Gopado, even travelers journeying to another region and merchants buying goods in bulk at wholesale prices. The sturdy ramparts guaranteed the city’s safety, and it was only natural that Gopado was the heart of the northwest.

Then, one day, a witch shroud in a black mantle passed through the city gates. She was an elderly woman with wrinkles traveling down all the way to her fingertips, and the people of Gopado were not suspicious of her at all. The Millennium War between the Church of Santigma and the world of magic was in full swing at the time, but Gopado was far removed from the heart of the Church’s influence, and the people were not suspicious of the witch because they had only ever heard of witches in rumors and had never imagined that a witch would enter the city by walking so boldly through the front gates. They had never imagined that their ignorance would invite tragedy inside the city.

That night, the old witch inscribed a forbidden circle and uttered a forbidden name from her lips. Then, while everyone else was fast asleep, the stench of sulfur boiling over from underground swallowed the city whole as a bizarre demon stepped foot into the surface.

Gopado never saw the light of dawn again.

 

♥

 

Early at dawn.

There was a customer in the peaceful city of Shoiblè who had come even earlier than the morning. He was not the mailman who travelled around the entire city on his bicycle, the milkman with his cart, or even a coal merchant. He was a boy who had yet to grow out of his babyface whose mien was filled with fatigue as he struggled with the bag he was carrying. He was tall enough to be an adult, but the youth in his features suggested that he was no older than sixteen or seventeen.

He had already stubbed his toes on the uneven and unpaved roads dozens of times. At the end of his hardships, the boy arrived at a certain manor that was surrounded by a cold breeze. It was a large, three-story manor, the likes of which was rare in the city of Shoiblè where most houses looked the same, and it had a rather dreary atmosphere around it, perhaps because of the vines that were wrapped around the building. The boy’s face remained shadowed as he stared up at the manor from the gates.

“Goodness, if it isn’t Young Master Oliver?”

Just then, the sleepy nanny walked out into the front yard only to be promptly startled. The boy —Oliver— smiled awkwardly as he waved hello. He also sighed under his breath.

Zophie carefully pressed her ear against the door. Cal was being restless next to her and impatiently asked,

“So? Can you hear anything?”

“Be quiet. I can’t hear because of you,”

Zophie snapped as she scowled heavily. She continued,

“I can’t understand what they’re saying because their voices are too quiet. You’re sure that Grandfather is here, right?”

“I clearly saw Bro going inside with my own eyes. He probably went because Grandfather called for him —why else would he ever go inside the study?”

“Well. I guess that’s true.”

But then, why can’t I hear him? Zophie grumbled quietly.

“And Grandfather’s something else too. He only ever yells at us, so why’s he always so nice to him?”

“He’s nice to me too, you know…….”

“Will you be quiet?”

Cal shut his mouth when Zophie glowered at him sharply. Zophie had bullied her twin even when they had still been inside their mother’s womb, and she was still just as stubborn after they had been born.

“Zophie, Cal! What are you two doing there?!”

Anne said as she spotted her two younger siblings after climbing down the stairs. She put her hands at her waist and grilled Zophie and Cal as they fumbled around for excuses. She continued,

“You should have started washing up if you were awake —why are you fooling around over here? Hmm?”

“W-we aren’t fooling around!”

“And here you go talking back again! Just who on earth taught you to be this sassy?”

Anne sighed and grabbed Zophie and Cal by their ears. The young twins groaned instead of screaming pitifully. Anne continued,

“Now. Go wash up and get dressed nicely before you come back downstairs. Oliver’s back for the first time in a while, so you two should look nice for him.”

“He’s not back, he was kicked out of school……ouch!”

Zophie looked up at Anne with tears in her eyes after Anne brought her knuckles down on Zophie’s head for talking back. There was a stern look on Anne’s face as she pointed to the bathroom.

“Wash up.”

Anne was still an unmarried young lady who had only just come of age, but her siblings’ clumsy rebelling was rendered futile before her because she had acted as the lady of the house in her late mother’s stead for some time now. And so, the biggest troublemakers of Shoiblè had no choice but to sulk and immediately make their way to the bathroom.

“Just when will those two grow up……?”

Anne watched the young twins retreat for a moment before turning to the study with an uneasy look on her face. She had heard from the nanny that Oliver had returned at daybreak, but she hadn’t been able to see her younger brother yet because their grandfather had kept him all morning. Still, her concern for her brother trumped her desire to see him.

A letter had arrived from the Ronrobert Seminary last week that had thrown the entire manor into disarray. Anne had been all right, since she trusted her brother to do well for himself one way or another, but their grandfather, who had high expectations for his young grandson and whose worry for Oliver could pierce the sky itself, had been another story entirely.

Anne could only pray that the storm would pass quickly. She turned to the cross on the wall and offered up a pious prayer.

 

The study, in which even the sounds of the people inside breathing was unassuming.

Oliver, who had been staring down at his fingers without a word, peeked up. The clock on the desk still only read 7:10. He was already beginning to itch all over from impatience, but it hadn’t even been thirty minutes since he had entered the study yet. He swallowed his misery like a sigh and turned to gaze at his grandfather, who was standing by the window with his back to him.

Oliver, the boy who had just turned seventeen this year, was the eldest son of House Fenley, a house of theologists. One didn’t even need to look very far back into his ancestry —his great-grandfather had been the archbishop of Fuissenberg, and his grandfather, the one standing right before his very eyes, was a respected bishop in Shoiblè. While his late father hadn’t been directly related to the church, he had been a theologist who taught theology in a nearby college —so in a sense, it was only natural that Oliver, the eldest son of the family, would be admitted to a seminary at a young age.

The only problem was that Oliver had absolutely no interest in theology. The strict life at the seminary had been no different from hell to the boy who had always loved running around the fields. Which was why he had broken the rules and gotten himself in trouble. The seminary professors had tried to reason with, persuade, and punish the troublemaker at first, but they had ultimately surrendered. The Ronrobert Seminary had expelled Oliver a year before his graduation. It couldn’t be helped that the sudden letter of expulsion had caused an uproar in the manor.

Oliver did not regret being expelled from the seminary. He had instinctively known that the seminary wasn’t the place for him from the very first day his grandfather had forced him to attend. Rather, he lamented the fact that he hadn’t dropped out sooner. But his grandfather, who had very high expectations of his eldest grandchild, was likely very disappointed. Oliver hadn’t even been able to greet his grandfather properly because he was afraid and apologetic, and all he could do was sit there and keep his mouth pressed shut.

The sun rose late in the northern countries, but the day still gradually turned brighter. Abruptly, the elderly man asked,

“What do you plan on doing now?”

His voice was as mournful as withered leaves. Hesitantly, Oliver answered,

“I don’t know yet.”

“I can help you find another seminary to attend if you still have a heart for theology.”

Oliver could not readily reply. The uncomfortable silence continued and pushed the second hand of the clock forward. The elderly man sighed bitterly, having found his answer in the silence. He said,

“……You may leave now.”

It was only then that Oliver hesitantly climbed out of his seat. He turned back around just as he was about to leave the study, but all he saw was his grandfather’s withered back. The expression on Oliver’s face grew blurry. The hardy bishop who had dragged his unwilling and rebellious grandson to seminary was nowhere to be found. The only person left of the devout house that had served the goddess for generations was an old man who had been left behind by the seasons.

 

♥

 

It had already been four days since Oliver had returned home. He had been living a lazier life than even his younger siblings before he finally went outside, unable to bear his nanny’s sharp looks any longer. But his childhood friends were all either away at school or work, so all he could do was to lay down in the grass and be bored.

The day was incredibly clear. The skies were blue, and the clouds were as white as cotton candy. Oliver had been staring up at the sky with bleary eyes when he suddenly heard laughter from afar and turned around.

“……so my brother…….”

“……and the apples…….”

A group of like-aged girls were walking along the path at the bottom of the hill. Oliver had been watching over them because he had nothing better to do when he suddenly locked eyes with one of them. He waved at her to be polite. Then, an unfathomable light crossed the girls’ eyes and they began whispering amongst themselves as they glared at him.

“What are you doing here, Oliver?”

Anne walked up to him just then. Oliver turned his head back to look at his older sister.

“Were you at the market?”

“Yeah.”

Anne was carrying a full basket in each hand as she crouched down next to Oliver. There were beads of sweat on the back of her neck, perhaps because the baskets were heavy.

“You should take me with you next time.”

“You should get some rest, since you haven’t been home in a while.”

“I can only rest so much. My body’s going to rust away at this rate.”

Anne smiled gently as Oliver grumbled.

“All right. Let’s go together next time.”

A warm breeze swept over the grass. Oliver wordlessly stared up at his sister’s face. Anne had matured at some point during the last three years. The lines of her face had become more elegant and her eyes had grown deeper. Her hands, which had been managing the household ever since their mother had passed away ten years ago while giving birth to the twins, had grown rougher.

“What are you staring at me like that for? Did your sister get lovelier while you were away?”

Anne asked teasingly. Oliver smirked and chimed,

“Yeah. She’s so lovely that I’m afraid someone might snatch her away.”

“Who’s snatching who?”

“What are you talking about? You’re of age now, Sis, so I’m sure you’ll get married soon. Or maybe you already have someone in mind and you’re just keeping it a secret?”

“Gosh.”

Anne giggled as she covered her mouth in embarrassment. Oliver plopped back down on the grass as he deplored,

“Geez. Now I’m starting to regret leaving seminary all of a sudden.”

“Why?”

“I would’ve been able to officiate your wedding if I became a priest.”

“I’m sure Grandfather will officiate my wedding anyway.”

“Grandfather’s sermons are always pointlessly long. And they’re boring too.”

Over half your wedding guests will probably fall asleep. Oliver snickered. He continued,

“I would be a much more entertaining officiant. It’s too bad.”

Anne gave Oliver a side eye as she failed to hold back her laughter at the absurdity of it all. She crammed an apple in her foolish brother’s mouth and quickly began telling him some news she had heard at the market just earlier.

“Clear some time from your schedule this weekend. Mr. Schmidt said he was planning to hold an extravagant birthday party.”

“Mr. Schmidt?”

“You know, the postmaster. He used to take such good care of you when you were younger. Don’t you remember?”

“Mm……. Not really,”

Oliver replied absentmindedly as he ate his apple. Anne did not seem to mind much.

“And Frank’s been wanting to see you ever since he heard you were back. Why don’t you contact him?”

“We’re not that close. You sure he didn’t just want an excuse to talk to you?”

“You’re still going on about that?”

Anne made a fist as if she was about to smack Oliver on the head with it, and he dodged her deftly as he sulkily replied,

“Sis, you still haven’t grown out of your habit of hitting us every time we get on your nerves?”

“How could I, when the three of you are always causing me so much trouble?”

“Why is it my fault when I’ve been holed up at school this whole time?! It’s Zophie’s and Cal’s fault. Especially that little brat Zophie —who does she even take after?”

Oliver thought about his younger sister stirring up about a fuss like a kicking foal and shuddered. Even just this morning, Zophie had treated him like a bum when he had only been back home for four days now and had nitpicked every fault she could find with him. She had even eaten all the turkey their nanny had cooked especially for him.

“She’s still young. You should be nicer to her.”

“I can only be so nice.”

“You were worse. Do you have any idea how much trouble you brought me every time you threw a tantrum?”

Oliver, who had once been the biggest troublemaker in Shoiblè as a child, immediately shut up. Anne clicked her tongue as she bit into her own apple. She continued,

“But the twins have been pretty bad lately, so I’ve been doing some thinking. And I heard some strange rumor at the market too…….”

“A strange rumor?”

Oliver’s ears perked. Shoiblè was a quiet city far removed from the royal capital. ‘Strange rumors’ were rare around these parts.

“Supposedly, a witch will be passing through here.”

“A witch is coming? Why?”

“How should I know? Anyway, Grandfather’s on edge because of that rumor. You should be careful too.”

Oliver, who was well-acquainted with his grandfather’s fiery temper, nodded bitterly.

But still —a witch? It almost sounded like it was straight out of a dream.

 

Two days later. Anne’s concerns were proven true in the morning.

“Zophie Fenley! How dare you say such a wicked thing!”

their grandfather shouted sharply.

“B-but that’s what my teacher said. She said that there’s a witch coming…….”

“Your teacher? Who?! Which teacher of yours said something so thoughtless?!”

Zophie startled and began hiccupping. She was so alarmed that she couldn’t even cry properly. Anne grew restless and took her sister’s side.

“Zophie didn’t know any better. Please don’t push the child too much.”

“Being young isn’t an excuse for ignorance! The children won’t ever grow up if you always coddle them like that!”

“I’m sorry, Grandfather. Please forgive me.”

But their grandfather’s rage did not subside so readily. He was from the Ronrobert Order, one of the most conservative orders of the Church of Santigma, and he was a fundamentalist who would never tolerate the heathens. The Millennium War had ended over two hundred years ago, but he had still strongly inherited a deep-rooted hatred of magic.

Oliver, who had been quietly watching over the situation, slowly put down his fork.

“It’s almost like the world is ending. To think that the damned would come crawling up the streets so boldly like this. No wonder you’re so worried that Shoiblè might get dirtied by evil, Grandfather.”

Every pair of eyes at the table fell on Oliver. He smiled gently as he continued,

“But please don’t pay it too much mind. I’m sure both Zophie and Cal are old enough to understand just how evil witches are. Right?”

Zophie nodded in the confusion of the moment. Oliver shrugged nonchalantly, rendering their grandfather unable to continue raging. This was one of the very few times that Oliver could actually make use of his headmaster’s preaching, which he had always turned a deaf ear to.

The dining table quickly regained its usual peace. Just as everyone had resumed eating, Cal tugged at Oliver’s sleeve and whispered,

“Bro, you said you’d take us to see the witch…….”

Oliver quietly brought his index finger up to his lips. Cal, who had looked like he was about to cry, immediately brightened up.

 

“Bro, she’s coming! Over there!”

The lonely riverside. The empty banks were disturbed for the first time in a long while. Zophie was sitting on Oliver’s shoulders and acted like the giddy child she was.

“W-where? I don’t see anything,”

Cal said as he tugged impatiently at Oliver’s shirt. Oliver had little choice but to pick him up too.

“Can you see her now?”

“Yeah! I can see her!”

Sure, as long as you two can see. Oliver nodded vacantly as he carried two heavy weights in his arms and on his shoulders. But he broke out of his stupor when Zophie pulled at his hair.

“Hey! That hurts!”

“Over there! It’s the witch —the witch! Look, Bro!”

“I told you not to pull on my hair!”

Oliver’s protests, however, were haplessly ignored. The excited Zophie was too busy to care about the pain she was causing her older brother, and even Cal, whom Oliver usually got along better with, was mesmerized by the unfamiliar scene. Oliver did his best to endure the pain —it felt like his scalp was being torn apart— as he turned to the parade passing before them.

Supposedly, a new army was being stationed by the border. Normally, military parades only consisted of cavalry and infantry, but the king had intentionally included a witch in the procession this time.

Oliver quietly clicked his tongue. He didn’t know much about witches or wizards, but he at least knew that they possessed strange powers that no ordinary human dared command. He could not comprehend why they would submit to the crown like dogs when they had such almighty powers, nor did he sympathize with that choice. He didn’t know much about them, but he was certain that they either had ridiculously little greed or were the biggest fools in the world.

He wished only for the parade to pass quickly. He wouldn’t have come all the way out to the riverside like this if the twins hadn’t begged him so earnestly to see the witch.

“It’s the witch……,”

Zophie whispered quietly. Oliver subconsciously turned to where Zophie was looking. There was a two-horse carriage engraved with a golden eagle, the symbol of Banzè. A white-haired woman was standing proudly on top of it.

Louisa Volkhart. The Witch of Retribution.

Everyone in Banzè knew who she was. Even Oliver, who had spent the last decade attending a strict seminary, was familiar with her name because the newspapers wrote about her daily.

“She looks really scary. Doesn’t she, Bro?”

Cal, who had already taken fright, buried himself in Oliver’s arms. Oliver snuck a glimpse at Louisa Volkhart as she passed by. She truly did make a strong impression.

“……She looks like the old lady from the library.”

“What?”

“Doesn’t she? I’m pretty sure the old librarian would look just like her if she was twenty years younger.”

Cal made a face as he shook his head.

“Don’t be stupid! The old librarian lady is so nice! But the witch is so scary! They’re not alike at all!”

“Or not, I guess,”

Oliver retorted flatly. Then, he pried Cal and Zophie off him. He continued,

“All right. You’ve seen her, right? Let’s go back now.”

 

Ann became an autumn bride half a year later. Her groom was a medical student from a nearby university. The news had been sudden, as no one in her family had known that she was dating. But their grandfather approved of the marriage without much of a fuss because the man she brought home was just as kindhearted as she was.

Ann was the most beautiful bride that year. She was popular, so everyone in Shoiblè came to congratulate her marriage —just as Oliver had expected—, and their grandfather gave a lengthy sermon as he officiated the marriage —just as Oliver had expected. The only thing that Oliver hadn’t expected was that their grandfather had actually shed tears as he married Ann off.

Zophie and Cal were no longer the troublemakers they had used to be. Ann had moved out after getting married, and it was only then that they grew more responsible. They were still young children who needed their nanny to look after them, of course, but they were now at the very least as mature as children their age should be.

Oliver stayed in his hometown until the end of winter. He lived a lazy life during his stay, and Zophie teased him by calling him a bum and a playboy the entire time. His grandfather was clearly worried for his eldest grandson, though he never quite put it to words, and even Ann began bringing up universities or factories whenever she visited. But all Oliver did was to smile vaguely in response.

Then, as the new year started. Oliver, who had come of age as he turned eighteen, suddenly enlisted in the army.

 

♥

 

The Ulmark Mountains.

A sharp tension settled inside the makeshift barracks. Lightning was illuminating the sky even though it was the middle of the day, and the loud thunder had been roaring for over an hour now. But there still hadn’t been any news, and they were slowly beginning to wonder if their allies were even still alive.

“Medic! Where are the medics?!”

suddenly cried a soldier who was holding up a wounded man. The alarmed medics gathered around him one after another. The wounded man was unconscious and vomiting blood, and he had been cut so badly in the abdomen that his guts were spilling out. The medics immediately prepared him for surgery.

More soldiers continued to return to the barracks with small or large wounds. Nearly a hundred men had been sent out that morning, but barely half of them had returned. They had all been so busy just trying to look after themselves that they hadn’t been able to rescue those who weren’t able to make it back on their own or retrieve the corpses of the fallen. Those who had not made it back likely never would.

Fortunately, Paul Liberman had managed to make it back alive, though just barely. He would have been met with a different ordeal entirely had he been just one step closer to the ‘enemy,’ but he had managed to escape the risk of death and return alive yet again today. He even had a rather substantial injury on his arm, so he wouldn’t be assigned to the search party again for the time being.

“Are you okay, Paul?”

asked Oliver, who had been transporting bottles of medicine, while walking up to Paul as he was getting his wound disinfected. He continued,

“You got hurt pretty badly. You probably won’t be able to use your arm for at least ten days or so.”

“Bullshit. I won’t be able to use it for at least three weeks,”

Paul replied flatly. The medic who was disinfecting his wound shot him a sour look.

“But what happened today? Where’s the wizard?”

“Can’t you tell by the fact that you haven’t seen him? He’s dead.”

“What? He’s dead?”

Oliver was astonished as he quickly sat down next to Paul. Paul pushed him away with his uninjured arm in annoyance, but Oliver was stubborn. Oliver continued,

“Tobias Fromm is dead? But how?”

“What do you mean how? A giant sent him flying with just one swing of his arm.”

“Jeez.”

Oliver did not look surprised at all as he continued muttering,

“Will we be put on standby for the meanwhile, then, since Tobias Fromm is dead?”

“Quit dreaming. The rear unit is sending over a new wizard tomorrow.”

“Damn. Then they should at least send us a decent one. It only makes things harder for us because they keep sending us deadweight all the time,”

Oliver grumbled as he tussled his hair. Paul clicked his tongue.

“Then you want them to send us the real gems here? The wizards they send out here or us —we’re all nothing but gravel beneath their feet as far as the higher-ups are concerned, you know.”

“But the subjugation wouldn’t have lasted nearly this long if they had sent us a decent wizard to begin with. How many has it been already?”

Giants had lived in the Ulmark Mountains since times immemorial. This was a good thing, as mankind could not step foot in such distant lands. But science and technology had developed rapidly, and people began coveting lands that they had dared not covet in the past. They stood against nature, which they had only been able to adapt to before, and they chased away the monsters they had once fled from in terror. Man had expanded and expanded his sphere of influence until he finally encountered the giants.

Giants. They were both the greatest soldiers and the vilest predators in the world. They were roughly four times the size of an adult man, and their hides were as hard as steel. There was no way for mankind to best them in brute strength, and they even had a similar level of intelligence, making them drastically different from all the other monsters man had faced until now. Even firearms, which had played a significant role is beating back the merpeople and fairies, could not best a giant.

Which was why Banzè had agreed to work together with Ingram to subjugate the giants ten years ago. The Ulmark Mountains, where the giants made their territory, was a frontier region that bordered both Banzè and Ingram. Both countries had found the giants at their border an eyesore.

The problem were the witches and wizards. They were naturally at the heart of the subjugation efforts, as even recent technology could not stand against the giants. However, unlike the witches of Banzè who were bound by pacts of allegiance, the king of Ingram did not have much power over Ingram’s witches, and Ingram’s witches were violently opposed to the slaughtering of other species for no good reason. They also refused to leave their homes behind to travel to the faraway frontier.

As a result, the witches and wizards sent by Ingram were often poor and unskilled. Banzè also only sent similarly unskilled wizards because she didn’t want to take such obvious losses from the subjugation either, which naturally only served to prolong the war.

“But Ingram’s sent over someone amazing this time. I’d thought we were all done for after Tobias Fromm died so frivolously.”

“Now that I think about it, how did you manage to survive without a wizard?”

“We were lucky enough to meet up with the Ingram wizard. He, well……we didn’t really need to talk to him.”

Paul made a strange face.

“What?”

“We just didn’t need to talk to him. He’s apparently from House Vega —but I have no idea why someone so renown’s come all the way out here.”

Vega was one of the greatest magical houses in Ingram. Oliver had no way of knowing what kinds of strings the king of Ingram had pulled to send over such a famous wizard, but he was happy for the news nevertheless.

Oliver stretched as he replied,

“I hope that wizard shows up if I’m in danger too.”

“How’s your wound? Do you think you’ll be assigned to the next search mission?”

Oliver had been injured rather seriously about three weeks ago. He had been able to stay in the safety of the barracks thanks to it, but his stay would end today. They had lost over half the personnel who had been assigned to the search party today, which meant that he would be sent out to face the giants as soon as the new witch arrived.

“Probably. I don’t have any issues with moving around anymore.”

“……Be careful out there.”

“Enough. It’s not like I’ll be safe just because I’m being careful anyway. I’m sure it’ll all work out somehow,”

Oliver purposefully replied cheerfully as he stood up. He continued,

“Get treated soon. I’m going to go look around to see if there’s anything I can help out with.”

The barracks were still filled with the groans of the wounded. There were soldiers whose guts were spilling out from their wounds and soldiers who needed to get their limbs amputated to either side of him, but Oliver passed them by in an easygoing manner.

It had been a year since he had enlisted. That was more than enough time for a fresh recruit who used to vomit every time he witnessed a surgery to grow indifferent to death.

 

The new witch that the rear unit had sent was someone whom he had never heard of before in his life. This wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, and Oliver had seen many other nameless wizards be sent to the frontlines only to die pointless deaths, but the new witch was quivering from head to toe even before they departed as if she meant to predict the thorny path ahead of them.

One soldier shot a sideways glance at the pallid witch and spat,

“Shit. They sent us someone useless.”

“Well, she does look a bit unreliable…”

Oliver laughed emptily. He was laughing because there wasn’t really anything else he could say, but even Oliver was uneasy. The soldiers’ lives were practically in the witch’s hands because they could not confront the giants directly themselves. But the witch did not appear reliable at all —not when she looked like she would pass out as soon as someone so much as tapped her.

“Tobias Fromm was at least from a noteworthy house. This is too much, seriously,”

the soldier complained openly as he said everything that was one his mind. He continued,

“We’ll just have to pray that nothing happens today. She looks like she’ll keel over if a giant so much as looks at her.”

The truly unfortunate part was that everything the soldier said had been right.

He remembered that the search mission had been rather boring at first. They had heard news that the wizard from Ingram had killed two giants yesterday, so the search party was hoping that the giants were hiding in fear. This was why they hadn’t been able to handle the situation properly when they met a giant unexpectedly.

Oliver laughed weakly as he leaned against a rock. The soldier had been right. The witch had fainted while frothing at the mouth as soon as she saw the giant. The giant had grown enraged while the soldiers ran about in their bewilderment, and it had trampled them, thrown them, and smacked them away. No one knew what had become of the witch. Perhaps the giant had crushed her in the middle of the chaos, or perhaps the soldiers had accidentally shot her to death as they fired their guns indiscriminately in their terror. In any event, she was probably dead, and if she wasn’t dead yet, she would be soon.

He was faring no better.

Oliver slowly closed his eyes as he heard the giant’s footsteps cause the ground to rumble. Everyone else was probably dead. Anyone lucky enough to have survived would have already run away by now, but Oliver could not flee with them because he had hurt his legs. The best he could do was to hide himself behind a large rock.

His impending death was so absurd that it was rather terrifying. Oliver could not keep the laughter from escaping his lips as he smirked. It was too ridiculous. His family back at home, his friends, his future, which he had thought was bright and promising —he could feel all of it escaping him all too clearly with each breath. It was only now that he truly understood that the things he had taken for granted were not absolute.

“If this is how it was all going to end…….”

Oliver, who had been observing his breaths as they scattered in vain, slowly turned his head. The giant was watching him from afar. He felt like their eyes had met. But the way its face crumpled ferociously and the way it was making its way closer to him both felt like a hazy dream.

A faint flash of light passed through the sky just then. The peal of thunder shook the heavens and a bolt of white lightning touched down before anyone could figure out what was going on.

“Gyaaaah!”

The giant’s gruesome scream as it was hit by lightning carried on and on.

Oliver hurriedly looked at the scene before him. The lightning had fallen out of nowhere, and the ear-piercing scream left him stunned. The lightning had stopped at some point and the dead giant was scorched black, but all Oliver could do was stay blankly in place. He could not even think to move.

It wasn’t long before he heard the sound of quiet footsteps coming from behind him. But Oliver could not budge even a finger. He was barely managing to breathe when an unfamiliar man suddenly walked past him. His gaze trembled nervously as he quietly stared at the man’s retreating figure. A blue uniform that symbolized Ingram and platinum blond hair. Oliver was studying the man quickly when his eyes stopped abruptly around the man’s waist.

The man was unarmed. He was equipped with neither a gun nor a sword. It was nonsensical, but there was just one person who could walk around a battlefield completely unarmed.

A wizard.

The blood returned to Oliver’s face.

“Will you not return?”

He heard a quiet voice ask him a question. Oliver looked around, bewildered, to find where it had come from, and it was only then that the noticed that the wizard who had been studying the giant’s corpse had turned around. The wizard continued,

“Your uniform suggests that you are a soldier from Banzè.”

Oliver’s eyes met with the wizard’s for a moment. The wizard was as beautiful as a merman from the folktales. He was so beautiful, but Oliver could not erase the chill he felt running down his spine. He was experiencing a deep terror the likes of which he had never felt from any other wizard he had ever encountered before.

The wizard looked indifferent as he turned his head.

“Please return. There are no more giants here.”

Oliver stood up from where he was sitting as if he was bewitched. His injured leg hurt dreadfully, but he returned safely to the barracks because, just as the wizard had said, there were no more giants around. He was the only survivor. It was truly almost magical.

Then, the next day, Oliver heard that the wizard from Ingram had slaughtered all the giants in the area.

 

“Edwin Vega?”

Oliver pronounced the completely unfamiliar name. He must have been close enough, as Paul nodded and replied,

“That’s the wizard’s name.”

“Wasn’t Vega that…what was it again? Cunning Vega?”

“No, that’s Jiles. Cunning Jiles.”

Paul clicked his tongue. He continued,

“Cunning Jiles. Just Alpheus. Virtuous Vega. They’re all famous magical houses from Ingram.”

“What’s a wizard from such a famous house doing out here? I thought the king of Ingram couldn’t force his wizards to do anything.”

All wizards swore fealty to their respective country’s king. But the oaths required in Ingram were different from those required in Banzè. The oaths in Ingram were closer to a contract made by two equal parties, whereas the oaths in Banzè were based on the premise that the king was superior to the wizards. This was why wizards in Ingram could openly ignore their king’s personally written letters while the wizards in Banzè had to grovel before their king like dogs.

“How should I know? You should know that wizards are strange folk too,”

Paul quipped back flatly. But Oliver wasn’t convinced. He may be completely ignorant about magic, but even he could tell that Edwin Vega had been on a completely different level from the other half-assed wizards from before. To call forth lightning with magic? It was difficult to even see Edwin Vega as another wizard like the rest of the rabble if he recalled how the others hadn’t even been able to land a proper hit on any of the giants.

“Regardless of his reasons, you were pretty lucky to have met Edwin Vega too. You would’ve died for sure if you hadn’t.”

“Aren’t you in the same boat?”

Oliver grinned as he labored to drag his splinted leg on top of the bed. The movement made the pile of letters he had been writing fall to the floor. Paul picked them up in Oliver’s stead since Oliver was injured.

“Are you going to send these home?”

“Yeah. My sister was getting annoyed that I haven’t been writing.”

Oliver made a strange face as he recalled how Anne had always liked to send her fists flying from time to time. He continued,

“I’m going to see her soon anyway, so I have no idea why she’s so fixated on my letters.”

“See her soon? Are you……?”

Paul’s visage quickly stiffened. Oliver stealthily avoided his gaze.

“I’m getting discharged.”

“What?”

“Why are you so surprised……?”

“But why?! That’s so sudden!”

Oliver scratched his cheek as he replied,

“Just because. I thought this was enough.”

“Enough of what?”

“Mm……who knows?”

Paul, who hadn’t been able to receive a proper answer, ultimately sighed from the absurdity of it all. Oliver smirked as he tussled Paul’s hair. Oliver continued,

“You should hurry up and get yourself discharged too. You enlisted before I did. How long as you planning to stay holed up here for?”

“Get discharged? I’d have to make money first before I could even think about getting discharged.”

Paul was special in that, despite being an ordinary person, he had grown up in a magical household. This was why he knew more about magical society than most. Of course, wizards never did good deeds for free. Paul had enlisted in the army to save money and repay his family for raising him now that he had come of age. He continued,

“Damn that wizard. Now he’s even writing to me to tell me to hurry up and pay because my interest has been piling up. I’ll never have to see that bastard’s face again once I’ve finished repaying my debt.”

Paul ground his teeth together. Oliver nodded back vacantly before he laid back against his pillow. He was planning to leave the army as soon as he had recovered somewhat. He would be getting discharged soon, and he had already told his superior officer.

Oliver was staring blankly up at the ceiling when he suddenly asked,

“Paul, why do you think the goddess created wizards?”

“Stop spouting nonsense and go to sleep already.”

 

♥

 

Part 2

Oliver started a small business with his friend after he was discharged from the army. His ever upright and stubborn grandfather was greatly displeased by the fact that the eldest son of House Fenley, a house that served the goddess, was becoming a mere tradesman, but Oliver couldn’t have cared any less. He had made quite a bit of money by risking his life while serving in the army over the past year or so. He would not ask his grandfather for help, nor did ne plan on accepting his grandfather’s help even if his grandfather offered it.

“It’s machines that are the problem these days, not people.”

That was what his friend, who had studied in Batenbach, the royal capital, had said before spending a fortune to purchase the latest spinning machines from Ingram. Other factory owners had scorned them and called them foolish amateurs, but Oliver had supported his friend’s choice without another thought. Oliver had personally experienced how frail humanity was while he was serving on the frontier, and he understood that it wasn’t wise to base their business on human labor. Unlike the people who remained in Shoiblè like stagnated water, he planned to go out and chase after the world.

Their business prospered more with each passing day. They had started from a single room in Shoiblè, and now they found themselves right at Batenbach’s doorstep. Oliver was thoroughly engrossed in his work by then, and he and his friend moved to Batenbach.

And so, three years had passed.

Oliver had turned over a new leaf in Batenbach. He had cast aside his identities as a young master from a rural area who had moved into the strange new city, as a discharged soldier who would begin regaling tales of his heroic feats as soon as he was drunk, and as a naïve young man who was often deceived by peddlers. Now, Oliver was a refined and crafty gentleman from Batenbach. He enjoyed attending the occasionally party with other businessmen, and he skillfully wove truth and lies together as he dated beautiful women. He was always surrounded by wine, smoke, and luxury. Batenbach prided itself as a high and lofty city, but the upper class was always accompanied by a variety of adult entertainment.

Then, one day, he received a telegram from home. It asked him to come home because his grandfather was unwell. Oliver stared at the telegram in disbelief before he sent an errand boy to buy him a ticket for the first train available. The people who had been enjoying the party tried to stop him, but he simply smiled and talked them out of it.

It took four days to get to Shoiblè even by train. Oliver spent his time on the train in deathly silence. The boisterous capital grew farther away from him. The toxic alcohol, cigar smoke, and showy noises grew farther away from him. The last three extravagant years he had spent felt hazy to him.

 

—The next stop is Shoiblè. Shoiblè.

 

His hometown was just as quiet as it had always been. The wildflowers were blooming splendidly, and he could hear cows mooing in the distance. Oliver was a little disconcerted after returning home for the first time in a while. Everyone stole glances at him as he passed by. The refined gentleman from Batenbach was misplaced in the picturesque rural landscape. He had become a stranger.

There were a lot of people in the manor. Anne took him by the hand and pulled him along.

“The doctor said that tonight will probably be his last. I’m so glad you made it.”

Anne had grown considerably older since the last time he saw her. She had been a spry young woman back then, but now she looked at least a decade older than she actually was. She continued,

“I need to breastfeed my children. You should go inside. Zophie will be there.”

Oliver watched over Anne’s retreating figure for a moment before he quietly made his way to his grandfather’s bedroom. His grandfather’s face was ashen, and his breathing was labored. The doctor had said that tonight would likely be his grandfather’s last, but Oliver could not help but wonder if he would even make it that long.

“He just fell asleep,”

said the girl who had been sitting quietly by her grandfather’s side. Oliver turned around without much thought only to be dumbstruck.

“……Zophie?”

“It’s been a while. I thought you wouldn’t make it.”

Zophie looked visibly tired. Oliver simply stared back at his younger sister in a daze. The Zophie in his memories was his reckless younger sister who always harassed her twin brother. The quiet and melancholy girl before him was unfamiliar to him.

“Cal arrived earlier this morning. He should be downstairs —you didn’t see him?”

“Cal? ……Oh right, he was attending a boarding school.”

Oliver sat down, stupefied. Zophie asked him no more questions. The peaceful bedroom was filled only with the sound of a dying old man struggling to breathe.

His grandfather breathed his last that night. He had opened his eyes just one last time before passing away, but he hadn’t been able to recognize his family. The old man who had served the goddess all his life had called for his goddess even in his last moments.

 

“The world is ending.”

 

Those had been his last words.

 

“The goddess will punish the world.”

 

These were things that Oliver’s grandfather had always said, almost as if out of habit. Oliver smiled bitterly. It didn’t sound like much of a will because he had heard these words so many times that they were practically hammered into his ears.

His grandfather’s funeral was conducted quietly. Anne was heartbroken in her sorrow, so Oliver oversaw the funeral in his siblings’ stead. Many more people had come to mourn the late bishop of Shoiblè, who had been in his position for quite some time, than Oliver had anticipated. He was familiar with some, and completely unfamiliar with others. Oliver greeted each and every one of them in good faith.

The funeral was concluded after the body had been laid down to rest in the grave that their ancestors had been buried in for generations. The guests who had come to mourn the late bishop’s passing trickled out of the manor like an ebbing tide. Only silence resounded in the large manor. Nobody welcomed the stillness.

Oliver, Anne, and the young twins took a stroll by the riverside. Their weary moods lifted as they tasted the cold wind by the river.

“……Grandfather left you the manor and Rhinemuth,”

Anne said. House Fenley had served the goddess for generations and were not very affluent, but they were still wealthy enough that they never had to worry about their livelihood. Their greatest asset was an expensive plot of land called Rhinemuth.

“What about you, Sis?”

“I received a few paintings and Mother’s old valuables. Cal will get the money and gold in the bank, and Zophie will get the silverware and jewels.”

“Isn’t that too much of a difference?”

“What else did you expect? You’re the eldest son.”

Oliver smiled wryly. His conservative grandfather had always discriminated between his grandsons and granddaughters. And he had especially favored Oliver, his eldest grandson.

“Cal still has to finish seminary……. What about Zophie?”

“I don’t know. That child —she’s been on leave from school for a while because she had to look after Grandfather.”

Oliver turned around to look at Zophie, who was behind him.

“What do you want to do now, Zophie?”

Zophie, who had been following along quietly, looked up. Oliver asked,

“Do you want to go back to school?”

“Yeah.”

Zophie contemplated for a moment before she continued,

“I want to go to university and study law.”

Banzè was a conservative country. The crown was powerful and the nobility was influential, and young women from good households were generally told to prioritize marriage over studying.

But Oliver did not trouble himself.

“Sure.”

Their grandfather had spent his last days under the care of the granddaughter he had thought little of. It was truly comical. Oliver knew just how poorly his grandfather had always treated Zophie. Oliver pitied his younger sister for quietly nursing their dying grandfather even despite that. Oliver was also proud of Zophie for keeping a quiet hold on her dream through everything.

“Why don’t you stay at the manor, Sis? That’s better than just leaving it empty.”

“What about you?”

Oliver didn’t reply. He was staring at the ruins across the river without realizing what he was doing.

There was a story that had been passed down in Shoiblè for a long time. It was the story about the sudden fall of the prosperous city that had existed long before the country called Banzè had ever been established. No one blamed the city walls in the story for being too weak, or the people for being too careless, because the power that destroyed it was something that humanity could never hope to rival.

Magic.

The almighty power that could call down lightning on a sunny day and burn giants to death.

“Will you go back to Batenbach, Oliver?”

“No.”

The world was changing. Magic, which had been ostracized for so long, was coming into power, and people were being inspired by it to invent new technology to compete against it. It had only been a decade since railroads had been built along Shoiblè, which had used to be quiet all day long before that. His grandfather had cursed and scorned the rapidly changing world, but Oliver, who had experienced a whole new world at Batenbach, instinctively understood that the current changes were only just the beginning.

Banzè had only just dipped her feet into the waters of change. Most of Banzè was still stagnating in the old era.

“I’m going to Ingram.”

Oliver could no longer be satisfied by Batenbach. His heart, which always yearned for change, was pointing him to Ingram.

The place where a new world was beginning to blossom. The place that was caught in a maelstrom of change.

 

♥

 

“Paul?”

Oliver had been attending a marketing conference he had been invited to one day when he suddenly ran into a familiar face. He continued,

“Paul. You’re Paul Liberman, right?”

“How do you know my……. Oliver?”

Oliver and Paul. The two of them stared at each other blankly. Neither of them had ever thought in their wildest dreams that they would meet again so far from home.

“Is he an acquaintance of yours, Mr. Fenley?”

“We served in the same unit back in the military.”

“By that, you mean…….”

Other people seemed to find their friendship unexpected as they approached them with great curiosity. Oliver smiled awkwardly as he took Paul by the shoulder and pulled him over to a corner of the room.

“What on earth are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,”

Paul quipped back as he avoided Oliver’s gaze. Oliver narrowed his eyes and studied what Paul was wearing.

“Weren’t you always going crazy about making money? —why do you look like this? This is a party.”

“Does it matter what I wear?”

“It doesn’t, but I’m still curious. I was starting to get bored anyway,”

Oliver replied as he touched his chin. It had already been two years since he had come to Ingram. He had significantly more money now than he had back when he had first started his business in Shoiblè, so he had expanded his business in Ingram with relative ease. He had also grown accustomed to speaking the central dialect, which had been unfamiliar to him at first, and the foul part of his nature that could not endure boredom was beginning to rear its ugly head again. He continued,

“It’s been so long —tell me what you’ve been up to.”

“Why should I tell you?”

“That’s cold. Aren’t we friends?”

“That was so long ago…….”

Paul drew away in disgust. Oliver was startled as he stared back at him. Paul had always been somewhat cold in his speech, even in the past, but it had never been this bad. The way his eyes were swimming around in search of an escape route made it obvious that he was trying to hide something.

Father Minuel, who was hosting the conference, walked up to them just then.

“Oh, Mr. Fenley. You came. I hear that you’re acquainted with Sir Liberman.”

“Sir Liberman?”

“Yes. He’s a wizard, the pride of our homeland. But Sir Liberman, what’s this about you serving in the army? I heard Mr. Tolk say something curious earlier.”

The blood drained from Paul’s face when the father asked. Oliver slowly turned back to him and mumbled,

“……A wizard?”

 

“What do you want?”

Paul asked outright after immediately dragging Oliver over to a backstreet bar. Oliver was dumbfounded, but he decided to organize his understanding of the situation first.

“I’m a bit confused. Can I ask you a few questions?”

“Just tell me what you want!”

Paul shouted, unable to rein in his rage. The people around them turned to them in irritation. Paul continued,

“I shouldn’t have gone there in the first place. If only the father didn’t keep pressuring me to go……. And why the hell were you there, huh?”

“I was invited.”

“I’m asking you why you’re even in Ingram to begin with! Shit, everything fell apart because of you!”

Paul hurled his wallet at Oliver as he spoke. He continued,

“That’s all I have. Either take it and go, or just report me to the police!”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to ask you about. Why should I report you?”

The look on Oliver’s face turned serious when he snuck a peek inside Paul’s wallet. He closed the wallet quietly before handing it back to Paul. Oliver continued,

“Why are you penniless? I thought you had a debt to pay off. Did you finish paying it?”

“Of course I……. Wait, are you trying to start something with me right now?”

“I’m repeating myself, but that’s what I’ve been trying to ask you.”

Oliver sighed. He continued,

“Why did Father Minuel think you’re a wizard? The Paul Liberman I know is a painfully ordinary man. Impersonating a wizard is a serious crime.”

Paul stubbornly avoided Oliver’s gaze. Oliver stared at him for a while before he shook his head and pulled out a business card.

“I don’t need your money. I won’t report you for now either, so call me here when you feel like coming clean with me.”

“……I never said that I was a wizard.”

“What?”

Oliver, who had been about to leave first, stopped in his tracks and turned back to Paul. Paul was still looking away as he stammered,

“I’ve never told anyone that I was a wizard. The father misunderstood, and he told everyone before I knew it.”

“And why did the father misunderstand?”

Paul was silent for a while. Impersonating a wizard was a serious crime in any country. Not only would Paul be punished if he was ever found out, but Oliver could also be punished for sheltering him. Oliver was a sophisticated businessman, and he did not intend to take such a risk out of mere pity.

“……Because of the work I do.”

Paul opened his mouth before long. He continued,

“As you should know, I’ve lived with wizards for a long time and I know a lot about magic. I invented a machine that can help wizards who aren’t good at magic, but the problem was that I couldn’t sell it in Banzè.”

“And that’s why you came to Ingram.”

Wizards from Banzè were controlled by the crown. Even nobles couldn’t meet with wizards freely, so it was obviously impossible for the average citizen to encounter them. On the other hand, wizards of lesser skill sometimes forged contracts with normal people.

“Yeah. But I was new to Ingram, and I didn’t know where I needed to go to find a wizard. And it wasn’t like my machine works for all wizards either……. So I went to a church, and the father misunderstood me and thought that I was a wizard who came to Ingram on the Banzè government’s orders.”

“Oh…….”

Oliver murmured to himself. To put it simply, a naïve priest’s overt meddling had thrown the young man before him into quite a bit of trouble. He continued,

“You pitiful thing.”

“I know.”

Paul wrapped his hands around his head in his torment. Oliver ordered some beer in an attempt to be helpful.

“Then, did the father introduce you to any wizards?”

“Yeah. He introduced me to an idiot.”

“Then why are you so poor? There wasn’t much inside your wallet.”

Oliver pointed to Paul’s empty wallet with his chin. Paul rolled his eyes.

“What do you mean ‘why?’” Do you think all wizards are rich or something? And what about the costs for manufacturing my machine? I need to have something to sell before I can actually sell it.”

“A magic machine…….”

Oliver was engrossed in thought. He continued,

“What kind of machine is it, exactly? Would I be able to use magic too if I had one?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. My machine only stabilizes magic. I wouldn’t be here right now if it was capable of letting normal people use magic.”

“I suppose there are a lot of wizards with unstable magic?”

“Of course. You’ve seen a lot of them yourself back when we were in the army. Sometimes, their magic explodes when their spells fail, or sometimes, nothing happens even after they’ve cast it.”

Oliver was easily convinced by what Paul was saying. He had risked death several times in the army, and most of the time it was because he had been accompanying a below-average wizard.

“So you’re saying that a wizard can stabilize his magic with your machine…….”

Then, he lightly asked,

“Want me to help you?”

His tone sounded like he was merely asking Paul to accompany him on a stroll. Paul stared at him, forgetting even to drink the beer in his hand. Oliver continued,

“Why are you so surprised?”

“Well……. Why would you help me?”

“I don’t know. For old time’s sake?”

“You’re giving me goosebumps.”

Paul was taken aback. Oliver snickered as he took a swing of beer.

“It’s not like I have any underlying motives or anything. It’s just that I happen to be overflowing with money, and you happen to need some right now.”

Oliver’s business was booming. They were still doing just as well in Banzè as ever, and they were expanding in Ingram at a terrifying speed. Oliver’s wealth would easily double itself even if he sat back and did nothing. The interest on his money continued to compound on itself because he wasn’t spending as recklessly as he had in Batenbach, and the money only kept piling up.

“Are you planning to amuse yourself by playing sponsor like the other nouveau riche?”

“You’re welcome to think what you want. I’m not offering something that would hurt you, in any case.”

“But surely there’s still something you want from me.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll give you the funds you need for research and development, and I can even help you with your living expenses if you need it. I can introduce you to other witches and wizards too. I’m pretty well-connected, all things despite.”

“Like I’ve been saying, why would you—”

“But in return…”

Oliver cut Paul off. He continued,

“I need this ‘new business’ of ours to be fun for me. I’ve been pretty bored as of late.”

Paul’s visage slowly contorted. He looked at Oliver like he had seen a madman running down the street, but Oliver simply pouted a little as he smiled.

 

♥

 

It hadn’t just been empty words when Oliver had promised Paul his full sponsorship. Oliver was enthusiastic about the deal, as if he was truly starting an entirely new business. He was so enthusiastic that Paul actually had to hold him back.

“Don’t you have work to do?”

“I’m working right now.”

“Quit fooling around. I thought you ran a factory.”

“A factory wouldn’t be a factory if it stopped operating just because the owner wasn’t present.”

Oliver’s business had already stabilized. He did not need to go out of his way to expand his business like he had in Banzè, where his business had been a part of a new industry that was only just beginning to develop, because there were already several businesses like his cropping up all over Ingram. Besides, the heart of his business was in Banzè anyway. He had only convinced his friend to let him expand their business in Ingram because he had wanted the challenge.

“You’ve always been so……. No, never mind.”

Paul gave up on speaking at length because he knew that Oliver wouldn’t listen even if he did.

Oliver was using every connection he had forged through work to arrange meetings with witches and wizards while Paul focused on researching and developing the machines. Oliver was targeting young and poor wizards. The world of magic was conservative, so affluent witches would not care to use human technology, and the old would be too set in their ways and resistant to change.

Several people had been interested in the mechanisms behind the machine, but, as Oliver had expected, he did not have many regular customers because of their general antipathy toward human technology. But Oliver was still quite laid-back. Only Paul was nervous when they were in the red for the month. Oliver simply continued to use his business trips to introduce Paul to new wizards from various cities.

Oliver and Paul had dug deep into the world of magic before they knew it. And it had been none other than Hugo Alpheus who had sought them out after hearing the rumors about them.

“I heard that your machines can help with magic.”

Hugo Alpheus was young, but he was also very wealthy. He was also a wise wizard who had written his name down in the White Hall, which made him too prominent a figure for Oliver to target. This was why neither Oliver nor Paul had been expecting Hugo, but it had been Hugo who showed his interest in them first. Hugo continued,

“To stabilize magic with a machine……. I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

Hugo Alpheus was a remarkable wizard, but he could not control his magic very well. He had always had a problem with exercising fine control over his overflowing magic. He had never imagined that he might find a solution to his problem in human technology.

Paul had just begun a new research project. He had been focusing on how to assist a spell through external factors by supporting the magic circle before, but now his goal was to venture into the fundamentals of magic.

“But I don’t know what the fundamentals of magic are……,”

Paul had said, half-drunkenly, after inviting Oliver to a tavern one day. Oliver had gracefully lent an ear to his friend’s drunken woes. Paul had continued,

“Damn wizards……. Why’re they hogging all the knowledge? I mean, shouldn’t they at least leave behind some records about the basics?”

“I’m guessing there aren’t any books that teaches you the basics of magic?”

“Just the basics? Fuck, there are more things that aren’t written down than things that are.”

Paul complained at length about how selfish and lazy wizards were. To sum it up, there weren’t many books about realizing magic because wizards awakened to their magic instinctively. There was also a problem in that wizards passed down their teachings through oral traditions.

“So you mean that it’s like you’re good at calculus but you don’t know how to do basic arithmetic?”

“Well, something like that.”

Oliver pondered for a bit before he asked,

“But how do you know so much?”

“About what?”

“About magic circles. Or about magic in general, really.”

Oliver had already known that Paul had been raised by a wizard. But he still had questions. The world of magic was very exclusive. Witches and wizards were the kinds of people who would rather raise a pet and make servants out of them rather than hire actual human servants. He found it difficult to believe that any wizard would go out of his way to employ a human child as a servant or generously decide to teach an ordinary person even a little bit about magic.

It was only then that Paul suddenly stopped talking. Oliver looked back at him for a moment before saying,

“You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No, that’s not it…….”

“Enough. It’s not like I need to know. I probably wouldn’t understand even if you told me.”

Unlike his grandfather, who had hated wizards all his life, Oliver was awed by the almighty power of magic almost every day. But he was not very interested in actually learning about magic. Magic was simply an intriguing business venture for him —nothing more.

Just then, the bell chimed to signal that a new customer had walked in. Oliver looked up without much thought only to spill his beer before he realized it.

“Hey, what the hell?!”

Paul had scolded Oliver in alarm, but his gaze had been stolen away as well. Everyone else was in much the same boat. A silence had settled in as the gorgeously beautiful woman walked in and took a seat, and it was in the silence that Paul suddenly whispered,

“……That’s Hester Sol.”

“Who?”

“Hester Sol. The Constellation Witch.”

It was only then that Oliver turned back to Paul.

“Griselda Sol’s daughter? Her?”

“Yeah.”

Oliver pondered quietly. Griselda Sol’s only daughter, the Constellation Witch, a rare genius, Hester the Wise……. The woman of many names looked terribly out of place as she picked up and read through the menu with a poise that did not suit the tavern. One might have mistaken the tavern for a library if they saw her in seclusion.

“She’s an incredible witch. I’d never even dreamed that I’d see her in a place like this,”

Paul stammered as he finally managed to pull himself together. He continued,

“She wrote her name down in the White Hall practically as soon as she came of age, and the king already awarded her a peerage. Some people even say that she’s even more talented that Griselda Sol was.”

“What’s so incredible about her?”

“She can see through the fundamentals of magic,”

Paul replied seriously. He continued,

“Like I told you earlier, most wizards don’t really know how magic is composed or how it works. They just cast it instinctively.”

“But you’re saying that this witch does know?”

Paul nodded. Oliver asked,

“Then, would she know what you’ve been trying to learn?”

“Would she know? Hester Sol is the only person in the world who’s researching the fundamentals of magic.”

Most witches busied themselves trying to achieve more tangible results. This was because the fruits of one’s research was the most factor in determining one’s hierarchy in the world of magic. It made sense that there were so few scholars who researched the fundamentals of magic, which could not be put to immediate use.

“Can’t you just ask her to teach you then?”

“What?”

Paul looked like he had heard something absurd. Oliver quickly changed his question.

“What if we pay her for it?”

“Do you really think that the Hester Sol needs more money? No, more importantly, what makes you think that a witch would agree to teach an ordinary person magic to begin with?”

Then, Paul began nagging him —this is the problem with you, you really shouldn’t treat witches like they’re normal people. Oliver let Paul’s nagging go through one ear and out the other. Paul was more verbose than usual today because he was drunk. But Oliver had finished organizing his thoughts by the time that Paul was done.

“Excuse me.”

“What? Hey, where do you think you’re going?!”

Oliver stood up and promptly made his way over to Hester. Paul was yelling something at him from behind, but he paid him no heed. Oliver had always been quick to made decisions, and he was even quicker about acting on them.

“Are you here alone, Miss?”

Hester’s gaze turned to him when he sat down opposite of her and asked. Her lovely grey eyes were filled with doubt. Oliver simply smiled relaxedly.

“What’s your name?”

“…….”

“Miss?”

“……Are you asking me?”

Who else would he be asking when she was the only person sitting with him? But Oliver was a skilled businessman, and he maintained his smiled without wavering even once.

“Yes. What’s your name, Miss?”

“Why do you want to know my name?”

the woman asked dubiously. But it didn’t look like she was being especially wary because he was a man she didn’t know. Oliver shrugged nonchalantly.

“Well, it’s not like I can keep calling you ‘Miss’ forever.”

“Oh.”

It was only then that she introduced herself as Hester Sol. Oliver amicably called her by her name as he introduced himself, but the witch did not appear to be very interested in him. It was obvious that she would immediately forget about him as soon as she left the tavern.

Oliver was growing impatient. Hester Sol was a famous witch, and it would not be difficult to dig up information about her, but he knew that witches generally hated it tremendously when strangers meddled with them. It was clear to Oliver that Hester would brush him off at once unless he forged a natural friendship with her.

“Are you doing anything for the weekend tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow is a weekend?”

But their conversation was going nowhere. The witch in front of him seemed distracted, as she neither paid attention to their disjointed conversation nor noticed when Oliver made passes at her. Even Oliver, who was rather confident in his silver tongue, fell silent from time to time. He had encountered many witches and wizards ever since he had first started helping Paul, but he had never met a witch like Hester before.

Ultimately, Oliver’s only harvest that evening was the name of the café that Hester frequented every morning. He stared wistfully at the retreating figure of the witch who had barely drank a glass of beer. It was only then that Paul, who had been watching over them nervously, finally snuck up to him.

“What on earth did you two even talk about?”

“Not much……. Do you know anything about her?”

“About Hester Sol? Cut it out. I won’t even be able to bury your bones if you mess up with her. Do you think she’s just a witch for show?”

Paul was drunk, and he went on yet another lengthy rant about how cruel witches could be. Oliver let Paul’s speech go over his head as he pondered about how he should go about getting to know Hester Sol better. Oliver had always had a very bad habit ever since he was a child. He had a bad habit of not being able to give up when he was faced with a difficult challenge.

The next day, Oliver visited the café that Hester had told him about in passing. Thankfully, he found Hester there. She had forgotten about him, just as he’d expected, but she didn’t seem to mind even when an unfamiliar man suddenly sat down at her table —perhaps she simply didn’t care too much about her surroundings.

“Do you always eat breakfast here?”

“Yes.”

“How come?”

“Because I ate breakfast here yesterday too.”

Hester’s replies were always beyond his expectations. But he was grateful that she still answered his every question. There were many other things that Oliver wanted to ask about, but he did not lash out at her or press her into answering. He was only able to keeping eating breakfast with her because he always knew to stay in line.

 

♥

 

“You’re still meeting with that witch?”

Paul shouted in astonishment when he learning about their short mornings together.

“It’s not a crime for me to meet with her.”

“But still……. So, did you learn anything?”

“That Hester’s ambidextrous? Or that she has a cat?”

Paul sighed.

“I’ve always thought this, but you tend to come off as a madman from time to time.”

Oliver did not intend to stop his morning encounters with Hester regardless of what Paul thought of him. All the more so because he knew that Hester would not care one whit even if he suddenly stopped showing up at the café tomorrow morning.

A tabloid had written about Hester around that time. Specifically, it had written an article about the vast wealth that Griselda Sol had allegedly passed down to her. Naturally, Oliver immediately realized that the tabloid was lying because he had personally witnessed just how buried in work Hester had been this past month. Which was why it was something else about the article that caught his eye.

 

Hester Sol (1765.08.03)

 

August 3rd was next weekend. It was obvious to Oliver that Hester had forgotten about her own birthday, especially since she never seemed to know the date or what day of the week it was. Oliver pondered for a moment before he began planning for her birthday. He did not directly ask her to go on a date with him, of course. After all, he could already hear her asking him why she had to spend her weekend with him.

In the end, Oliver decided to go with a contract. He submitted a request that specifically asked for Hester by name to the Magic Association. He was told that Hester Sol did not typically take private requests, but Oliver was certain that he would hear back soon because he had promised quite a hefty sum.

He was right on his money.

“Mr. Fenley?”

Hester looked alarmed when she recognized him. Oliver was happier about the fact that Hester had finally remembered his name. She continued,

“You had a request for me?”

“I did. The weather’s nice today —is there anywhere you want to go?”

Oliver took the clueless Hester all around Wokingham. They had ice cream at the Ambrose Square, and they went boating in the Mon River in the outskirts of the city. Hester asked him about the contents of his request every time he began hoping that she had forgotten about it, but Oliver only answered her vaguely. The sun was setting in the sunset glow by the time he finally came clean.

“Today’s your birthday.”

“How did you know that?”

“I saw it in the newspaper. You never talk about yourself, so I had to go looking for the information on my own.”

The expression on Hester’s face turned strange when he said that. It reminded Oliver of Paul, who habitually liked to call him a madman. But Oliver wasn’t one to mind. After all, he had never expected Hester to understand what he had actually meant.

He continued to join her for breakfast at the café. The only difference was that Oliver had now started giving her flowers every day. Sometimes he brought her roses, and sometimes he brought her wildflowers. Hester accepted them passively. But she never asked him why he was giving her flowers, so Oliver was never able to tell her.

A month had passed. Then, one day, Hester asked,

“Why are you giving me flowers?”

“Because I want to give you flowers.”

“Why do you want to give me flowers?”

“Because I want to be good to you.”

“But why?”

“Because I like you.”

Oliver’s answers were simple. A strange look crossed Hester’s face.

“I am not your family.”

“I know.”

“Why do you like me?”

“Who can say? I don’t really think I have a reason in particular.”

Hester fell into intense contemplation because she could not comprehend Oliver’s answers for the life of her. Oliver just barely managed to hold in his laughter as he cut into his bread. This was the first time in his life he had seen anyone react like that after receiving a confession. Most people would ponder over how they should respond, but Hester was trying to figure out why the man before even liked her in the first place. Maybe that’s why I like her? Oliver thought vaguely to himself.

Oliver was not a child. He was not living like the depraved mess he had been in Batenbach, but he had still dated several women and had experienced his fair share of heartrending romances. He knew what love was, and he understood that love wasn’t all the world had to offer. He had grown more conservative about forging deep ties with people with age.

But he had to acknowledge it now. Oliver was in love with Hester Sol. Hester had asked him why, but that was a question he couldn’t answer. When had he fallen in love with her? Oliver wanted to ask the question himself.

Their relationship hadn’t changed even after his vivid confession. They still met every morning in the café for breakfast. Sometimes, they met on the weekends to take a stroll in the Ambrose Square or by the river. Oliver was curious about what Hester thought about their relationship, but he purposefully avoided asking her. He enjoyed the time he spent with Hester. He did not want to define their relationship and give it a name too hastily. He was prepared to wait as long as it took for Hester to realize her feelings for herself.

Hester had begun confiding in Oliver. She told him about how she missed her mother, about her heartless and coldhearted teacher, about her pitiful younger sister……. Hester’s world was unexpectedly small. Magic and her one and only sister were her everything. She was a beautiful woman of twenty-three, but she was also like a young child who had only just stepped out into the world.

Then, one day, Hester had invited him over to her home. The invitation had been a surprise, especially considering what one’s ‘home’ meant in the world of magic. Naturally, Oliver accepted her offer with glee.

Hester lived in an apartment in the suburbs of Wokingham. Her home was humble, but it was neat and cozy, and there was a white Persian cat with sparkling eyes waiting inside. Hester had disappeared into the kitchen saying that she would make some tea while Oliver looked around her home with great intrigue.

“……Is this the study?”

The door to the study was half-open. There was a curious look on Oliver’s face as he walked inside. The room was a bit too cramped to actually be called a study, but the tiny room was filled with so many books that he couldn’t even begin to count them. Most of them were books with titles that Oliver, who did not have much interest in magic, couldn’t even read. Paul would’ve been overjoyed had he been able to see this. Oliver grinned as he thought about his friend who grew more emaciated by the day. He decided to ask Hester if he could borrow a few books later if he got the chance.

It was about then that the messy desk caught his eye. It stood out quite a bit because everything else was so clean that there was hardly a speck of dust to be seen. Oliver walked up to it because he found it odd. There were papers strewn about the desk filled with letters from both the central dialect and the language of magic that he could not read. He couldn’t even understand the parts of the writing that were written in the central dialect, but he instinctively knew that this was Hester’s thesis.

He recalled something that Paul had once told him.

 

“Hester Sol is the only person in the world who’s researching the fundamentals of magic.”

 

Oliver was lost in thought as he flipped through her thesis. His business with Paul had been going slow as of late. The machine was definitely effective in helping with the activation of magic, but it wasn’t enough to win over the wizards, who were both conservative and doubtful. This was why Paul had begun a new research project, but it was difficult for him, an ordinary person who wasn’t even a wizard, to research magic properly. Magical knowledge was essential to developing the machines, but it was rare to find any texts about the fundamentals of magic.

The fundamentals, Oliver murmured quietly to himself as he read the thesis’ title. The Phenomenon of Magic. He did not know if this would be helpful to Paul. Oliver knew much too little about magic.

Just then, he heard appalling sound of glass breaking. Oliver immediately turned around. Hester was wearing a frigid look on her face as she watched him from the doorway.

“Get out.”

“Hester. Wait, please just hear me…….”

“I don’t ever want to see you again.”

Hester did not even give him the chance to explain himself. Her touch was incredibly cold as she slapped him away. Oliver managed to say something about seeing her later, but he wasn’t certain if there even would be a later. Hester had looked incredibly rigid as she stood firm the last time he saw her.

 

Oliver immediately went to visit Paul. Paul was the only person around who was well-versed with the world of magic.

“I saw her thesis.”

Paul furrowed his brows when Oliver admitted this so candidly.

“What nonsense are you talking about?”

“I saw Hester’s thesis.”

“What?”

The look on Oliver’s face was uncharacteristically stiff. It was only then that Paul realized how serious the situation was, and he asked,

“Were you caught?”

“…….”

“So you were. Don’t ever hang around that witch again. You hear me?”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?! You should just be grateful that you even made it back alive!”

Paul grew angry as he continued,

“The results of one’s research is the most important thing to a witch or wizard who’s trying to be acknowledged in the world of magic. That’s the very reason why all those self-absorbed witches and wizards work themselves to death —all so they can make it in time to submit their theses in October!”

“I just happened to read it. I didn’t even understand it.”

“Then why don’t you go and tell her that?”

Oliver blankly stood up from his seat. He looked like intended to go back to Hester at once. Paul continued,

“No, stop. Don’t. Sit down for a minute.”

Paul just barely managed to get Oliver to sit back down before he began pacing impatiently about the room. He continued,

“I don’t know much about Hester Sol, but I do know just how fixated witches can get about their theses. You can’t even begin to compare it to a one-night flame.”

“It’s not like that.”

“What?”

“We weren’t a one-night flame,”

Oliver replied gloomily. Paul looked dumbfounded as his face crumpled.

“What the hell are you talking about……? Just go somewhere else for the time being. I know, why don’t you go back to Banzè? You should visit your hometown for a change,”

Paul suggested subtly. Hester Sol was an incomparably powerful witch. Paul had personally experienced just how terrifying wizards could be because he had lived with them for over a decade, and he did not intend to be forced to walk a path of thorns just because he had accidentally gotten on a witch’s bad side.

Oliver promptly stood up again.

“I get it.”

“What do you get?”

“You’re telling me not to let Hester see me for the time being.”

Paul had been doubtful that his friend would actually follow his advice, but, fortunately, Oliver was careful not to let Hester see him for the time being. But that only meant the he avoided meeting with her directly —he still sent Hester several letters begging for her forgiveness and asking her if they could meet up to talk every day. Not that Hester seemed to be reading them.

Oliver thought that Hester had needed the time to think. He knew that his feelings for Hester were not light, and he also knew that Hester’s feelings for him weren’t light either. But he also knew that Hester was unfamiliar to all of this, so all he could do was pray that she would at least be composed enough to give him a chance to explain himself.

It would be up to Hester if she believed his explanation or not. Oliver was in the wrong here, so he would agree to whatever Hester decided regardless of whether she decided to forgive him or not.

He had continued sending his letters, but on the tenth day after he had started walking past her home in his want of seeing her again…

Hester left Wokingham.

 

♥

 

Toot—

The station was filled with the loud sounds of trains whistling. Oliver was buying a ticket for a first-class seat like he always did, and he looked up upon hearing someone recognize him.

“Oh my, didn’t you arrive here at Tuxbury only yesterday? You’re leaving already?”

The station employee greeted him from the other side of the window. Oliver straightened himself up and smiled back.

“Yes. Something urgent came up.”

“Where are you going?”

“To Wokingham.”

As the station employee had pointed out, Oliver had only arrived at Tuxbury just yesterday. He had come all the way out here because his search for a plot of land to build a new factory on wasn’t going too well, but he now had to return without even being able to survey the land properly. His secretary would immediately phone his friend back in Banzè if they knew about this, and Oliver would have to hear his friend complain to him about being too whimsical, but Oliver truly had no other option this time.

Oliver had received a letter last night. It had contained news that Hester Sol, who had left for Snowden on the crown’s orders, had recently returned to Wokingham.

It had already been two years since Hester had left Wokingham. The Magic Association had refused to tell him where she was because she had received secret orders from the king. Oliver had only learned that she was in Snowden, by the northern border, because he had personally hired people to investigate, but his people had been caught when they infiltrated the city and he had risked being sent to jail. He had been hopeless, now that he thought back on it, but that was simply how cornered he had felt at the time.

Even Oliver hadn’t imagined that it would take two entire years. He had only thought he would have to wait half a year at most even when the police warned him not to do this ever again. But half a year had become one year, and one year had become two in the blink of an eye.

He was anxious as he walked around the train station. He was rushing to Wokingham because Hester had returned, but he still could not make heads or tails of his own thoughts. He obviously wanted to see her again, but he was also worried that all he would accomplish was to reopen wounds that had only just begun to heal. Perhaps even being able to meet her and beg her for forgiveness was too much of a luxury.

Oliver was deep in thought as he walked to passenger car. The first-class car was still quiet. There, he spotted a short girl struggling to put her bags in the luggage compartment.

“You look like you’re having trouble, Little Miss.”

Oliver helped her secure her things without much thought. But the girl immediately vanished into the window seat without so much as a single word of gratitude. He hadn’t helped her because he had wanted to be thanked, but he did find it strange.

Oliver tilted her head to the side as he confirmed his seat. He felt bad because the girl was trying so desperately to avoid his gaze, but his seat was directly next to hers.

He casually sat down. He felt the girl’s piercing gaze turn to him.

“W-what do you want?”

“I’m just sitting in my seat —is there a problem?”

Oliver said as he began humming. The girl leaned away from him in disgust.

“Are you sure you have the right seat? Check your ticket again.”

“Yeah. I’m in the right seat.”

“Really? Truly?”

“Yeah.”

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“Show me your ticket. I’ll check it for you.”

“No, I’m pretty sure I’m in…….”

But just as Oliver turned around to reply irritably after she asked again. He stiffened up like he had been struck by lightning when their eyes met unexpectedly.

“……Hester?”