[Syuufarin POV]
The Elven calendar (Or at least the one these elves have adopted) is a curious thing. Not because it follows different rules or because how many days a week has.
But because… It is eerily similar.
As far as I’m aware, neither the Gregorian calendar nor the christian faith exist in this world. The fact that they have an accurate 365 day year measurement is… unsettling.
I ignored the weird implications that came forth from this.
As for what exact year it is… They have something called “the long count”. Which is an arbitrary number that is used more for personal and individual landmarks in history than actually something more global. For example, most of the people in the village use the village’s own calendar, which is somewhere in “more than eight centuries since Daivette Village was founded.” and there isn’t much mention of what happened before year zero. That would be their “long count”.
Because they have a much broader perspective on the events that happen across the centuries, calendars, while used to keep a vague track of time, aren’t really a thing. There is an understanding of the value of learning from the past, but the past in their case is considerably closer to home, compared to other races with shorter lifespans, what happened centuries ago is like remembering their childhood for elves.
An equinox is an astronomical event in which the day and night cycle are perfectly aligned, and the day has an equal amount of time between day and night, there are 2 equinoxes a year, and the first one happens at the end of winter, and the second one at the end of summer.
The reverse, if you are on the other half of the hemisphere.
Anyways, why am I mentioning this? Because they have a holiday at the first equinox…
…And I am being sequestrated to it right now.
——— –– –– -- - -
Back to the present!
“Uuugh… I should have refused when I had the chance…” I lament, pressing my legs together and walking awkwardly and self-consciously. I feel like everyone is staring at me.
Somehow, Samyra had a dress that perfectly fit me that she aggressively suggested I use. Of which the skirt is really way too short for my liking. And I feel uncomfortably airy down there.
‘It’s one thing to get slowly eased into the idea of… skirts. While in the comfort of my own seclusion... But IN THE MIDDLE OF SO MANY PEOPLE IS A DIFFERENT STORY!!!’ I hide myself as best I can behind Clauren and Samyra, tugging the dress down.
When Samyra nearly broke my door to get me to the festival I was thinking something somewhere along the lines of a bunch of stalls, a bonfire, fireworks, food…
I was, however, mistaken.
While there are the aforementioned bonfires, food, and stalls here, the mood is more oriented to a reserved sort of festivities. Not a party per se, but still a holiday nonetheless. Much closer to a ritual of passage than a hedonistic commemoration.
Time, for elves, is something that they learn the hard way how precious it can be. And the passing of the four seasons is commemorated to remember the fallen, appreciate the present, and hope for the future. Today is the day they take what they have spent their time in the previous year to share and rejoice with everyone.
The farmers boast their harvest and compete to see who grew the largest crop, woodworkers bring their own little projects and pieces of art to display and to gift, leaders sit together in contemplation to discuss their decisions in the past and the future, athletic people duel each other in contests and sports of all sorts.
Of course, it’s not like everyone has such defining traits and professions to focus on, some people simply coast along with the rest, others prefer to enjoy the present instead of honing themselves. These people join in the other side of the festival, they dance, they relax, they eat and they mingle.
It’s a holiday of remembrance and rejuvenation. Where old adages are dusted off and new dawns are let inside.
。。。
‘Alright… maybe this isn’t so bad after all.’ I think to myself while trying to wield a ridiculously long skewer.
My arms are… shorter than what they used to be, but even then the guy that was making these skewers doesn’t know moderation at all. They’re good, very good, but since the mentality of advertisement and selling more stuff isn’t really present in this festival he makes them extra over the top and extra long so someone only needs to get a single skewer to enjoy it all. This thing is as long as my entire arm!
‘I’m just… I’m just not used to this.’ I think bitterly.
In my previous life festivals were a dime a dozen around the year. I never really found myself with any interest in them, I didn’t like the loud crowds and most of them were more focused on making money than the actual cultural heritage.
I simply never really wanted to go to them very much. I could be perfectly content inside my room and with plenty of internet.
And now… I sit here, feeling out of place with a strange sense of homesickness.
‘Hm. This thing is really good.’ I tear another piece off the skewer. ‘I have no idea what exactly I am eating, but it tastes good so whatever.’
At some point, I separated myself from Clauren and Samyra. Not that I am against their company… I’d say that I’ve come to even enjoy it, but being Dragged around by Samyra all morning can get exhausting. After some consideration and trying to persuade them, they let me go to “explore” after leaving to do their own thing. I used the opportunity to find a quiet secluded place instead.
“Enjoying yourself?” Someone asks me.
I violently flinched away, almost jumping. Thankfully I had a secure grip on my food so I didn’t drop it.
“Haha! What’s got you so nervous?”
“Don’t sneak up on people like that!” I yell, only looking at who is talking to me after I had already spoken. There, I see it’s that old lady who has the scary staff that I met in the healer’s office, she is sporting a resting smile while holding her own share of festival snacks. “Oh! It’s… um, it’s you!”
‘I never met her again after that… thing. That happened after I fell unconscious on top of Samyra’ I recall, suddenly feeling embarrassed. ‘I forgot her name…’
“It’s… me!” she parroted back, amusing herself.
“It’s… you!” I repeat.
She cracks a larger smile “Indeed!”
A moment of quiet passes by, I awkwardly look around as she simply stands there looking at me.
“...um, you can take a seat!” I sheepishly tell her after scooting away on the bench, trying to be polite.
She took a moment to observe my face, an unreadable expression hidden behind her face, before obliging herself. There, we spent a while without saying anything as we ate, with me giving anxious glances at her from time to time.
After a while, the old lady finally spoke. “How have you been adjusting?”
The question took me blindsided. “Huh? Um… I’ve been doing… fine?”
“Hmm…” she mused. “That’s good…” she turned to observe the festival “Yes, good.”
Another bout of silence.
“...Why do you ask?” I am… very confused about why she came all the way over here to talk to me. The festival isn’t that far away, but we are in a place that you’d have to purposefully go out of the way to reach.
This time, she looked into my eyes, her gaze burrowing itself not only on me, but piercing through something inexplicably deeper. Her smile disappearing and the grandmotherly visage fading into an aura of an ancient, but sharp edge…
…For all but a fleeting moment I felt as if I was below the crushing weight of a judge’s gaze…
…And just like that she flipped back to looking at the festival again, sedately taking a drink from the mug she’s carrying.
“Clauren… is a fool. Brilliant in his own right, kind-hearted when it counts, but nonetheless, a fool.” She points forward.
Looking over at where she pointed, I see Clauren along with a bunch of other people drinking together, he looks like he’s telling everyone something, waving his arms and making gestures.
I note that the mug that granny’s holding is similar to the ones they are also drinking from.
“He’s been teaching you magic?” She asks me, though her tone is more one of confirmation than an actual question.
“Um, yes… Is that a bad thing?” I ask her, apprehensive.
She suddenly turns apologetic at my inquiry. “Ah! No, no. It’s not a bad thing for you at all I promise you.”
‘...Not for me? What does she mean by that? If that’s the case then it’s bad for who? Clauren?’ I think about why she came all the way over here. “...Is Clauren in trouble?”
She gives me a glance, “...It depends.” she sighs. “I didn’t know he made you his apprentice, not until someone flooded 6 houses”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
I wince. “Erm. Sorry…”
“Don’t worry about it, in these situations it is the responsibility of the master to bear.” She waved my apology away. “That’s what I came here to talk about…” She hesitates, and thinks for a moment. “...You are experienced, in the ways of the world, are you not? Much more mature than anyone else your age, you’ve seen things.” She ascertains.
“！！！” My tongue gets stuck in my throat. I start mumbling half formed words in panic. “Huh?! Erm– I mean!– Wha–”
I had forgotten, but it was her that triggered Clauren to prod me for details, and starting that whole embarrassing disaster that led me to open up a little about my past.
“That’s why I am not going to make Clauren stop teaching you magic. I am placing my trust on you, that you’ll be responsible for the power you are learning to wield.”
“！？！？！？” I look at her aghast.
Seeing my confusion, she said, “I’ll ask you a question then, why do you think nobody else is studying magic?”
“I…” I become agape in realization.
‘Now that I think about it, other than Clauren and this Grandma, I’ve never seen anyone else practice magic like they do. There have been mentions of other people using it, but never to the scale they do.’ I notice how the only real mages I met are actual abysmally small in number, most of the adult elves know about magic and some even know some spells, but nobody amongst those have what I’d call offensive magic, they only know simple lifestyle magic, at best, the biggest mana intensive spell i’ve seen them use is the one that conjures water, and the person that did it only made a tub worth’s of water to wash clothes.
Granny continued. “It’s a good thing he only taught you the “safe” spells so far, they are simple, weak and not that dangerous. However, that does not mean they are harmless. You’ve seen for yourself, in your recklessness, you flooded the entire area around Clauren’s house. Now, imagine if you lost control of that magic, or used it maliciously, you could easily destroy a house if you knew what you were doing…” She sighed.
“...That is why magic, as a whole, is kept secret between masters and apprentices. It is a powerful, destructive tool that can do miraculous things in the hands of the proper wielder. It is a power that comes with responsibility, the slightest mishandling can hurt people irreversibly, and even kill the own caster if they are careless.”
She places both her hands on my cheeks, forcing me to look at her.
“Magic, little girlie. Can kill.”
A long minute passes as I stare at her, ruminating about what she said.
Suddenly, all the wonder and giddy excitement that surged at the thought of magic vanished, replaced by the cold dread of the utter grim applications that such a malleable and mystical force could have. Gone are the sparkles and rainbows, and the thought of all the possibilities of what the ruthless side of humanity could make made my gut churn…
“AAWHwwwwmhphn!!!” I reflexively squint my eyes as I suddenly find myself having both my cheeks pinched and stretched.
“See? This is what I meant when I said you are too mature for a tiny brat.” The cheek pincher in question sighed, only finally letting go of my cheeks after she felt satisfied pulling them in all directions possible…
While I am distracted rubbing the pain away, she lifts me up and places me on her lap, and starts petting my head.
I blink in confusion. “Eh?–”
“I don’t care where you’ve been that you so deeply recognize and understand such dark, evil things…” She tells me in a disheartened voice. “I’m just giving you a friendly warning, that Clauren is as enthusiastic with magic now as when he was a kid just as tall as you so I don’t blame him, but you must have in mind that magic isn’t all sunshine.”
For a while, I simply stayed in place utterly flabbergasted... Even somewhat enjoying the petting much to my own shame.
There were so many confused questions running inside my head I just didn’t know what to say. My perception of magic, and Clauren, were wholly upended in such a short span of time that I was having trouble coming to terms with my thoughts.
‘I only… I just… I…’
I take my time deciding what to do, lash out in frustration? Accept and move on? Seek guidance? Admonish myself? Fall into despondent self-judgment?
Breathe.
“You just picked the worst time to say these things...” I simply sigh.
Granny opened her mouth to bark a retort, but, “...yes, perhaps.” She agreed, festivals are supposed to be fun, and her actions soured that spirit somewhat. “You should go outside more often! I did not have even the slightest awareness that Clauren was apprenticeshipping you until I saw a flood burst out from his backyard, and only way after I heard that it was actually you that was the cause instead of him.”
“Ugh,” I moaned. I really did not want to do the whole social dance with people, though I am more amicable to the idea now than I was a few months ago.
——— –– –– -- - -
I groan, hiding my face and turning away from the crowd of onlookers.
‘I really wished I could be spending my day elsewhere…’ I sigh, already regretting myself.
In this festival, aside from the food, there are lots of “contests”. Though they aren’t held with the competitive flair that comes from the word, they possess a spirit that would be more reminiscent of a sports festival rather than a tournament.
And, well. Grandmother Piyo (I… forgot to ask her name. so I asked Samyra what her name was.) was right about nobody else apprenticeshipping under anyone, but she didn’t mention that instead there are other people that are accomplished mages already.
“Come on! Show us what you got!” They hollered.
I don’t know why I was surprised, but I was far from being the only magically inclined person in the village.
Every single elder. Along with Clauren, Granny, and other people I didn’t know. Were watching me with drinks on their hands and expectant faces… Samyra was there too along with another gaggle of people that came to watch.
Clauren, especially, was very, very drunk.
‘He looks really happy though.’ I resent him a little from putting me in this situation in the first place, but he looks so genuinely proud of me that most of my angryness just didn’t live long enough for me to care.
It felt nice to have people cheer me on despite the circumstances..
To summarize, the social circle of the mages of the village usually hold a contest for this festival, and a plethora of people come to watch the displays of skill and technique that each magician has honed to show off in an elaborate spell.
This year is special, mainly because of my unexpected presence, so everyone wants to see me do something first. And also, the fact that I have been learning under Clauren of all people is news that only recently has been spread out and everyone was both surprised and skeptical.
I sweatdropped. ‘Just what kind of reputation do you have that makes people see you like this?’
The basic spells, while simple in design and function, boast a high degree of malleability. This means that they aren’t as restricted as other more advanced spells on their free manipulation after casting, for example, the overcharging of the magic circuit I did back when I accidentally flooded the town isn’t usually something that works, but due to the simple input / output nature of the spell it is a mechanic that exists intrinsically on it.
And, because these simple spells can be manipulated so easily, they can be built on top of each other to produce special combined effects that work along with the own caster’s innate “molding” of the vectors of the spell…
“Um, here goes nothing… I guess!”
…And so, combination magic is born.
“Ｍａｓｓａ Ａｋｖａｒａ Ａｕｃｔｏｒａ！”
A deluge of water is summoned out of the tip of my wand, just like that time when I accidentally flooded the village, however…
…Unlike then the water does not fall, bubbles and streams of water begin floating in the air as if gravity was a mere suggestion. With water still spitting out of my hands like a malfunctioning faucet, I lift my hands for a preliminary test.
All the floating water twists and turns in an orbiting array around me as I wave my hands around, creating a hypnotizing display of refracted lights and an abstract dance of shapes.
Clauren, looking sober all of sudden, stared at the display with a gaping mouth. “I don’t recall teaching her that…”
My control isn’t good enough to make straight lines or finely shape the floating water into constructs, really, what I am actually doing is manhandling everything through channels instead of the seemingly perfect control. Think of it like holding a drop of water still inside a straw, technically, you are controlling the water, but you can only pull and push it through the constraints of the straw.
It’s an utter bastardization of any notion of actual control, but it’s just about enough for me to do this.
I juggle water left and right with flairs of movement and rudimentary shapes, squares, pyramids, cylinders flying around in a show inspired by the modern water fountains I remembered seeing from a distance in my past life.
Personally, I didn’t think much of it, since it was actually deceptively easy with the right timing, but the crowd was doing “Ohh!” and “Whoa!” as the balls and streams of water barely missed each other or hit each other on purpose to create extra effects.
After the show I got rewarded with a round of applause.
‘Waah! I don’t believe I’ll ever get used to people clapping for me…’ My legs are trembling after I finished the performance. I try to fight it down but slowly an involuntary grin worms its way up my face, I hide it with a hand and turn to look away from the crowd.
“That was amazing!” A familiar voice comes from behind me. Looking to the source of the voice I find it to be…
“Sedia?” I blurt in surprise.
“It was so pretty! And the way those jets of water arched! And…” She went on gushing about various different parts of the spell I used. Though, I was more distracted by the wand she was holding.
A wand…
Similar to the one I have.
“That was amazing!” Another, more familiar voice, shouts right in my ear before I am lifted up and swallowed between two mounds.
“MFF!?!?!?” Before I can protest I am already being spun around while being hugged in public by Samyra. She spends another couple seconds squeezing the breath out of me before something else finally puts me down, my face doubly red from embarrassment and trying to breathe.
“~~~!!!” I squirm violently as I aggressively rub my face. Inside my head a thousand voices are screaming.
It was Clauren that had pried me away from being smothered, “Let the girl breathe Samyra.” He said, sighing. “Where did you even learn how to do that anyway?” Despite being my teacher, he didn’t recall ever seeing Syuufarin showcase such prowess, nor did he remember ever seeing that spell she cast written anywhere.
‘Ah– Ah… This is the first time I have touched the bosom of another woman…’ Completely listless, my previous train of thought was derailed as I stared wide-eyed into the horizon.
The occasional petting and hug were… tolerable. I understood they were simple gestures of affection and I would be remiss to deny them, despite my apparent dislike and aversion to those deep down I relished every time it happened. Now, however, I was dealing with the sudden awakening, or rather, remembrance, of a high awareness and self-consciousness of my own body, and more importantly, of other people’s bodies.
Perhaps, thanks to my childish body, those sorts of impulses and desires were nil. Regardless of that, however, I have plenty of memories and knowledge of the forbidden fruits. Experience that is currently giving me violent whiplash-like feelings and made some of the dysphoria I had felt come back from when I first started. Childhood, teenagehood, adulthood, everything coming together into an unholy package that made me cringe and feel a disjointed sense of disorientation.
‘Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it…’ I repeated a mantra inside my head to make the thoughts of impending growth dawning on me. Idly, I looked down to my own body thinking on what I would look like when grown up.
“Erm… Syuufarin?... Are you there?” Clauren asked while waving his hand in front of my face.
“Oh! Oh! I think I know!” Sedia “maybe she combined parts of the magic spells that clean dust, lift things, and water things into something else?”
That caught Clauren and Samyra’s attention.
“How?.... I didn’t know you were versed in magic Sedia.” Clauren said.
“Hihi,” Sedia giggled brightly “yeah! Granny P. is teaching me!”
I whipped my head towards her. My previous train of thoughts being raised from the dead.
““SINCE WHEN?!”” Both Clauren and I yell.
“Since yesterday.” Suddenly, there’s another voice that’s uncomfortably close behind me.
I jump, “HIEEE!!! When did you get there!?”
“Hi Gramma Piyo!” Sedia merrily exclaimed, completely unfazed.
“Hello elder Piyo!” Samyra greeted her too, being the only one that saw her coming.
“You should work on your attention to your surroundings.” Granny quips, nursing her own beverage while leaning against her own staff, which was standing rigidly upright despite not being stuck on the ground.
“Wha–? Just… How do you do that?” I question her, recovering from my startled state.
“Do what?” She replies with a faux clueless expression.
I groan in disgruntlement “–That!” I say while pointing at her.
Instead of answering, she takes a long drink out of her mug while knowingly smirking at me.
“Try to not give her attention.” Clauren advises, locking eyes with the elderly woman. “Hello, master.”
“Brat.” She retorts.
They both spend a moment in a staring contest…
…Until Samyra slaps the back of Clauren’s head. “Come on now, are you still sour that she confiscated your research?”
“YES!” Clauren proclaimed with a little too much force.
Samyra gaped incredulously at him. “That was years ago!”
“And I will forever hold this grudge until I die!” He replied dramatically.
“Well that’s your problem BECAUSE I AIN’T GIVING IT BACK! That crap is dangerous. Be thankful I still haven’t found a way to erase its existence!”
“Oh you–!”
The trio of adults went on a protracted bickering war, though Clauren and Grandma were opposite forces Samyra played on a third front that tried to minimize the losses, though her efforts seemed to only prolong the conflict.
。。。
Having quickly gotten out of my previous weird headspace, I quietly teeter over to Sedia.
“Since when… Just how did you end up with Granny?” I ask her.
“Well, they don’t let us children start doing magic until we are 75! You know?”
‘S-seventy five?...’
“But I really, really wanted to. So I asked my mom who is the best magic person in the village, and she said Grandma Piyo was the oldest person she knew, and usually old people know a lot about magic!”
“So, she accepted you as her apprentice?”
“When I asked her she said no!”
“Huh??” I stare at her in confusion.
“Then I started going to her house everyday to ask her to teach me magic!”
‘I’m so sorry Grandma…’
“And then, after someone flooded my house, she accepted all of a sudden!” Sedia said with a wide smile.
I coughed. ‘Aah… um, the ground sure is looking interesting today. Hmm, yes indeed.’ I avoid looking at her with a crimson face.
“It was really weird! She was being all shady like and made me make a bunch of promises! Then she said to become your friend and report everything you do with magic to her, but I was already your friend!”
‘Oh… despite everything she considers me a friend?...’ I teared up a little– “Hold up what?”
“Hm? Oh, OOOH!” She exclaimed with wide eyes. “I don’t think I was supposed to tell you that! Forget I said anything!” Sedia waved her hands panickedly at me.
“Um, sure.” I reply monotonically.
“Great!” She went back to smiling as if nothing happened. “Hey, do you want to go explore the festival? I haven't had the chance to see everything yet and maybe the uncle that makes fried drazils still has some left…”
Half remembering the delicious food I ate a long time ago I jumped at the opportunity to leave the adults to their own devices, “Let’s go then!”. I liked the idea of doing something at the festival more than getting involved in the weird past those guys that are still throwing down verbally have.
——— –– –– -- - -