Oftentimes there was Evil. Then there was ‘evil’. The one where you knew by your gut alone to be your antithesis. Opposite understandable which your heart that had been tempered by the virtue ‘giving people chance they deserve’ knew to be wrong — the mucks and mires where all things rot.
“Can I help you, Ma’am?”
Thus he decided to say. Nominally, neutral, and without a smile, at least without the one that reached creases of his eye. He knew, he knew it was less than ideal and not what he should do. What he should do, in order of decency, were assuring Jeane that the woman’s opinion didn’t matter to him — that her bigotry wasn’t worth a damn; or better, brought wrath thundered, showing instead of telling her maid that the woman bigotry wasn’t worth a damn. And if that was too much — too risky because common sense dictated that engaging in conflict for something so intangible as pride was stupid, he could simply leave — disengage, refuse to deign.
Yet he couldn’t.
Simply couldn’t.
So he sighed. Choosing the unuttered fourth — silence; holding his tongue till the other party said all they need to say. Lump and swallow and all that.
Thus it was unsurprising that later that night when the rain had stopped and the wind was still, when he was alone, left with his thought, he’d found that thrice of margin of error and with little doubt that the fourth had won good and large.
Because, hmm, how should he put it? Well, he was very clear — clear what spurred his inside. Called it clarity, called it piercing the fog of thought — call it whatever. It was not something grand, like care for the bigger picture that motivated him. It also was not something necessary, necessary evil. Those were lies — deceits people tell themselves so they could sleep at night. Instead, he was aware, very well aware in fact, that what moved him was something much less, less noble.
He was mortified.
Simply mortified.
His and Jeanne’s‘ discussion’ was arguably somewhat, well, heated. And as a self-stylized fair employer he was trying very hard to avoid saying the word ‘you ought to’, ‘what were you thinking’, or ‘your fault’. It was simply unfair for him to do that. She was a [Scullery Maid] not a nanny. What had he asked him was outside of her job's scope. And when asking where the blame laid. Well, it was should be on him.
And yes there were shouts — he had shouted. But those simply the tension of emotions — worries mostly, worries about Clar and Leo. Yet in course of that shouting, that anger said, that disappointment shown, he was certain, truly certain of one thing; he had been pacing. Pacing, swiveling, turning, you knew like a worried brother would, more holistic, full-bodied version of restless leg syndrome. After all knowing that one's family member might be in danger wasn't something you sit nicely about. That was not the point though. The point was in that twitches that jitters, he didn't catch the woman’s glimpse. Not a slight rustle of her soles against the ground, not a speck of air displaced by one’s body blown to his neck. Somehow she had snuck without him or Jeanne seeing, hearing.
She just there.
Suddenly.
The moment she came his reflex was to flick his mana sense. With the grand illusion he at least he managed to see the weave and weft and bubbles abound right? So if the woman was using magic, well, he ought to be able to see it. Dissect it, and somehow counter it.
And boy, how wrong he was.
The instant the mana seeped to his eyes, activating his sense, he saw it. Leviathan that reached deep. Fifty meters from the ground and as far as horizon long. Motes of black, brown, and green swirled around her. Tentacles, branches — reaching the sky, warping the space. Rumbles and tremors as the ground heed her name. The trees, bushes, that bench and table he sat — everything there were, were hers. And her eyes — he glimpsed at her eyes. The things were amber, liquid, forever.
How could she escape from something like that? Something that true magic. And how about Jeane? Leo? Clar? It was insanity. Impossibility. So here he was, playing a patient fool. Waiting for it to resolve. Barb and anger sheathed to the innermost of his heart.
Then as he predicted, arguably predicted, the woman ignored him; pebbles and stones — he was pebbles and stone.
So he waited, waited, waited. Smiling and still, spell on his finger touch. And as breaths passed; seconds ticked, relief and dread caught him at the same time. She passed him. Passed him toward Jeanne. Step by step, echoes of her walking stick. Click and clack, the tap of her wooden shoes. It filled the air heavy.
“Of course,” she said with the intone he recognized. Contemptuous and experience-wrought. Understandable yet wrong. “Tillermuds.”
He gritted his teeth.
Sorry, Jeane. He’d make it up later.
To her credit, the young woman held her ground. Still, freezing, but not quaking. True, her eyes were cast down, but that was the entire extent. Not a response deigned from her mouth. And even though he knew that it was equally likely to come from her stupefaction instead of looking evil in the eyes, he’d credit her for bravery nonetheless. She deserved that. More than him.
“You.”
The woman said, taking a 180-degree turn, slow, and measured.
“Yes? Can I help you, Ma’am?”
He said, putting the same smile, the same answer. His hand on the back flared, he had redirected a large part of mana to it.
“Hmm, quick one, eh?” she sat, a smile flashed for a second. “But foolish.”
“Ah, I’m sorry to disappoint you then, Ma’am.” He twice scrolled down his mage’s skill list, deciding against the [Lightning Blast]. Closing the list he cursed, why didn’t the system gave him teleport? For god sake, it was only a level 10 spell. Barely a journeyman.
“Do you know what you did wrong then, human boy?”
“I’m afraid not, Ma’am.” he willed [Invisibility], slowing the geometric. “As far as I knew I was having a conversation with my maid when you suddenly intrude.”
“Yes. Your Tillermud.” she tapped her staff. “Haah… that man’s association was a waste of space. But seeing you” —she shook her head— “well, he has a point apparently. Listen, young man.”
“Do you know what this place is?”
“...a park?”
“A park he said! Of course, it was a park. I mean that!” she pointed at the terrarium. “That!”
“...err a children’s playground?”
“I see, I see. Well, you’ll learn soon enough.” she sighed. Crouching even deeper to her staff. Like a flute, he pressed and released indentation on it. One by one, then together.
The mana around her receded. The swirling tentacle shrunk into a ball, black and spiral green. He saw the loose whole compacted, tightened, then shot like javelin thrown. Coursing through the sky in an arc, blazing through the ground like a black powder trail.
He jumped — and almost sprained himself.
“Apprentice!”
She shouted. Loud but at the same time ...not? He wasn’t sure. It was what was the word — piercing. Yes, piercing. It as if her voice ignored the doppler effect; it carried in the same volume no matter where its location was. And not just by the air. The moment she said it, his soles trembled. And it was not from his shaking — although that could be a factor too. Instead, it was from her voice — her ‘shout’ which result in vibration. The disconnected jaggedness, the rippling of his skin was the same whether it was on his face, on his hand, or now, under his feet.
Even though it was solid connected to solid — even though voice supposed to be air-carried.
BRRR
It came… and it coming fast. He almost could see it. Felt it. On the far side of the road. By the far left, opposite of the long table, there was a subtle changing in color. Deep brown to lighter deep brown. It came in a curved route, meandering like a snake slithering. The ground bunched up. Specks and dust, and stone, and all little things scattered to the air. Trail of something — something that was coming from the soil itself. He almost swore that he could see her mana danced, rejoiced, welcoming whatever it was.
He held the word of power in his tongue. Muttering a sorry to his maid.
BRRRRRR
“Invi—”
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PLOP
“Yes, Naya?”
A little head popped out from the ground. Head of an elf boy.
“—what?”
AAARGH!
Jolts of thunder struck his tongue. It was as if he bit it on the tip and instead of caressing it, he bit it again, again, and again. Four times, again. The elf boy however didn’t even register that, instead he lifted his hand waving at him.
“Oh!! New friend!” the elf boy said, pushing himself to waist height, his hand on his hips. “I’m not ‘what’. I’m Apprentice.”
[https://i.ibb.co/kHLk3wt/Line-Break.png]
“Sorry, new friend Euca, Naya is a little tense.”
“I—it’s all right.”
He nodded to Apprentice. Which apparently not only his title, but how the elven boy asked — wanted to be called. The little [Gardener] was more pleasant, at least compared to his master. But again, everyone was. The woman had left them fifteen minutes ago. Telling the boy to fetch Clar and Leo while leaving a cryptic warning.
He hated that.
Huft, at least it was over now… Leo was sleeping under the table’s shade, Jeanne was preparing the table, and Clar well, she was—
“Slow down Apie!”
—playing tag with Apprentice.
If you could call that tags of course… His [Internal Clock] told him that the third minutes’ mark had passed for quite a while. Which was compared to the boy thirty-second last round was you knew, sad. Then again there was the fact that their ‘tag’ was anything but conventional.
Apprentice being a [Gardener] in this blasted world was, well, swimming. Like swimming in the soil itself. His hand went up and down, up and down, as the ground around him rippled in transverse waves. Not as much as when he came here though. Apparently, that was his version of running which disturb the soil greatly. If he only jogged — sorry, swam. The soil would be like right now, pushed around with little dust. He even tried to push his shoes down to the soil, just in case he was fooled again by this garden grand illusion. But no, as far as his foot concerned, the soil was real deal.
The boy even did backstrokes.
“He he he… Clar can’t catch me.”
“Apie cheating! Clar can’t go underground...” the girl pouted, looking at the boy who now turned the tag into a game of whack-a-mole.
“Master…” he felt a tug in his mana connection. The girl was looking at him with puppy eyes. Of course. While the girl had given up imitating the little gardener swimming — she hadn’t given up trying to catch him.
“No.” he shook his head, firmly. Remembering the hole and dust flying all around when Clar was still adamant trying to soil swim. Thank god the boy was able to control the soil. Then again, he had to. The park would be ruined if he hadn’t.
“B—but…”
“No, Clar. That’s for emergency only.”
“Uhhh…”
“Anyway…” he rummaged his haversack, pretending to take out something from his bag when actually he was opening the system’s inventory. “Why don’t we have lunch first? Apprentice, do you want to join us for lunch?”
“Okay!” the boy’s eyes glinted up. Huh that interes— his jaw popped.
…almost dislocated to be exact. Along with his eyes bulging almost dropping. The boy had leaped from the ground as if it was water, and he did so without any board or trampoline or paddle or whatever else he could use to propel himself, as he flew through the air, he did a triple backflip, a perfect 1080 before landing squarely on the wooden bench — his hand tucked in the table like a good boy.
10/10
“...all right.” he felt sweats coming out. Were all the kids in this world that amazing? He looked at Clar then at the boy then at Clar again. ...maybe those anime that had ten years old saving the world was into something.
Well, anyway. “Let — let’s wash our hands first, okay?” he said with great difficulty, taking out a waterskin. “Clar.”
“Coming!” he put a little basin on the ground. The one he brought so as to not making the ground messier than it should be. The girl hummed as he poured the water out. “Washing hand. Clar is washing hand~”
“Clar’s voice is pretty!”
“Thank you! But Apie must wash hand too!” Clar nodded seriously, Then one second later without he realizing it, the waterskin had been taken from his hand and brought to the boy. He felt a weird pang in his heart.
“Eh?” the boy looked at the water. “Why?”
“So, Apie didn’t get sick! Look Apie hand is dirty.”
“Oh! Wait. Dirt please leave.”
The moment the boy said that word, a swirl came around — the same swirl, the same power as that old crone had only lesser. He recognized half of it — mana. Mana and something else. Together they blended and sparked causing the soil on the boy’s cloth, hair, and hand flaked — peeling. Then a gust came. Scattering those to the ground below, revealing his emerald green hair, his rose-tinted skin.
“Wow! That’s so cool! Clar wants to do it too! Can Apie teach Clar?”
“E—eh? B—but.”
“Now, now Clar.” he put a stop to her question even though he was equally curious. ”Apie is a guest, okay?”
“Eh… But — but Clar wants it.”
“What did we just learn about not being selfish Clar? That we should think what other people too!”
“Uh… okay!”
The girl nodded, picking up the basin, and threw the water to the nearby flower.
“Jeane?” he turned his head.
“Y—yes, young master…”
“Come on.” he smiled. “Let’s eat.”
The picnic basket wasn’t something special. It was the weaved kind you could find on any tourist destination; rattan-made and with two handles on the side. The only difference was that it was quite big; three-quarters of his haversack height. Which was why it safely stored in the inventory and wasn’t brought out in front of the boy or Jeanne. It was a bit of risk of course, but he could always say that it just packed very tightly.
Opening the cloth covering, he checked the bread and sandwiches. Which were fine. The lining parchment was a bit oily from the leftover oil but that was to be expected. Distributing the plates and cups to the eager, salivating, gluttons, he picked the water bottle.
“Here, have a drink first.” he poured a third quarter full to each one. The stasis effect made sure it was still cold.
“Wow!” The boy exclaimed. “Cold! Are you a mage, Euca?”
“Ah?” his smile stiffen. Looking to the boy and Jeanne who look at him with great interest. Should he? He meant in this world people had class, and so must he. And compared to an alchemist, well, mage sounded more generalist. There was even a magic academy in town. That sounded like a wiggle room. A lot of wiggle room. Oh, why the hell not.
He nodded.
“Yes. I’m a bit of a mage, Apprentice.”
“Hmm…” the elf boy put his hand on his chin, drinking the water from his cup, and put his hand on his chin again. “That’s impossible!”
“Eh?”
“Your aura, Euca.” his finger pointed at him “It’s big.”
“A—aura?”
“W—what? You don’t know about aura?” the boy almost dropped his cup before catching it at the last second. “No wonder Naya is angry! You must learn to control your aura, Euca. Naya said caster who couldn’t control their aura is useless when break came.”
“Ahahaha…” What the heck. Forgot this aura thing, if the break came, he would bunker down on his home or failing that, escape to another town. He was sure with Clar and Leo, all of them could secure a ride on a good caravan.
“Apie bad! Master is amazing you know.” The girl harrumphed. “Master once defeated—mmph, mmph.” He put the hand over the girl’s mouth. “Clar, be polite to our guest okay…” This girl! He needed to speed up her confidentiality training.
“N— no! It’s not like that! Your master is good, but it just when the dungeon broke your master wouldn’t be able to use his magic!”
“Weally?”
“Yes! When the break happens, the dungeon will spread its poisonous mana around. To combat this casters would need to depend on their own mana reserve. Which mean aura!”
“Owh! But master didn’t have aura.” she looked at him frowning. Ugh to be pitied by your summon-slash-sister. “Clar know! Clar would protect master then!”
“Thank you, Clar,” he said nodding and with a singe on his heart. “Are the break coming soon, Apprentice?”
“Umm…” the elf boy lowered his posture. His voice took a more conspiratorial tone. “Don’t tell anyone okay? Yesterday when I patrolled I — I found one Rock Geom digging.”
“Rock Geom?”
“Yes! It’s small but it shouldn’t be outside so soon. Naya told me that it was a bad omen. She couldn’t say but it should be between several moons to several calendars.”
“Oh my god…”
“Huh, what a god, Euca?”
“Oh — I mean oh her light….”
“Anyway, you should learn to control your aura! Euca is above level 35, so according to the law you must help!”
“O—okay…” he paused at that sentence. Great. Another law he didn’t know about. And the worst one at that. He needed to make an exit strategy for it then. But for now—
“So where I could learn to control my aura?” —let dug some information.
“Everlight, of course!”
“The academy?”
“Yes!”
“All right, I will take a look.” Again at the academy. That place became more and more important. While he wasn’t going to ‘help’ the town, it seemed no brainer to take a look how to control this aura thing. Just in case he was trapped. It wasn’t like dungeon would announce when they would break, wouldn’t they?
“I’m glad Euca understands.”
“Haha… ” he smiled wryly, lifting the picnic basket closer to him. “How about we eat first, okay? Me, Clar, and Miss Jeane over there made this wonderful bread, you would love — Clar!” he stopped. The basket was way too light.
“Cla onwy eat a wittle!” the girl defended herself, which perhaps was convincing if not for the big slice of sandwich stuffed in her mouth right now. He checked the picnic basket, maintaining a glare to the girl on the while. And to his relief it was just half of sourdough and three sandwiches, the mayo-roasted couchee with shredded nips, leaving seven still uneaten.
“You should have waited for us though…”
“That’s because master talked too much. Apie too! Don’t talk too much. Food more important!”
“O—okay!” the boy nodded.
“Here, have one.” he handed him the plain sourdough. While everyone in his household had shown great acclaim to his makeshift recipe, it wasn’t wise to just give the best thing at once. Bit by bit, that was the proper way. By appreciating the base component you could appreciate the greater whole more.
“What is this?” the boy sniffed the sourdough, pressing his nose against the crunchy exterior.
“It’s like koshi,” he smiled. “However instead of just using the water to gelatinize the dough. Our household incorporates a yea— special ingredients that able to release air inside the said koshi. The incorporated air, create pocket of bubbles that result in fluffy text—”
“TASTY!”
“—ure.” he frowned looking at the bread disappearing at the rate that unbelievable even to the naked eyes. “Also!!” he lifted his finger. Trying to get this boy on track. “This recipe able to breakdown the base starch into flav—”
“MORE, EUCA!”
“—or compounds… resulting in complex flavor profi—never mind.”
Sidelining Leo and Jeanne portion aside, and taking one for himself, he let the little gardener had the rest. And while Clar did protest, vehemently he might add, he simply pointed out to the amount that she had eaten before. Another glutton. At least he had foresight to prepare another picnic basket, safely stored in inventory.
Half an hour and an empty basket later, the girl and the boy were finally content, grins plastered across their face. He himself was slowly sipping a plain meil as digestive.
“So, Apprentice” —he sipped a gulp, appreciating the warmth it brought to his stomach— ”what was gardener do every day? Besides of course, tending the garden.” He pointed at the terrarium — no — the spirit’s dream. As the little gardener had informed him.
“Ehh, mostly patrolling. Hmm… I think on the third seventh I cut old branches? Councillor Toby had Elder Palpaiv, the thing smell nice, but grow too fast. So every moon it needs to be pruned. Then master Dee doesn’t want his Copiwood to spurt another sapling. His backyard already full as it is. So l need to cast [Stop Growth] every so often. Oh also, the city sometimes asks us to look if there are trees that fell or sick. If it’s older than twenty calendars I mostly report to Naya, otherwise, I could do it alone!”
“Wow, Apie is busy!”
“Yeah!”
“Clar only works at master store…” she turned toward him. “Master, gives Clar more responsibility!”
“Ha, ha, ha…” Good Lord’s Clar. He was trying to save her childhood here. How it suddenly become she asking for more work… “M—maybe later.”
“Ugh, master didn’t believe Clar.”
“Anyway!” he half-shouted. “W—what are you doing before your master called you here, Apprentice?” he said desperately trying to redirect the conversation.
“Oh, I was helping Brother Muni to judge the flower app — Oh no!!”
“I forgot!”