In this world where magic is everywhere, I choose not to learn anything about magic.

That’s right, it’s my choice. I just don’t have much interest in it. So far, I’ve survived eighteen years without it. It’s actually pretty impressive considering the rough lifestyle I’ve had early in life.

I came from a terribly poor family. We were so poor, in fact, that my parents were willing to sell me into slavery . Before that could happen, I ran away from home and became a drifter.

I’d ask wandering merchants if they could take me to the nearest town. I’d tell them that I’d do anything they wanted just to get a ride. Most of them declined, and the richer-looking ones don’t even bother as much as a single glance.

Sometimes I’d get lucky and come across some traveler who’d be willing to take me under their wing for a while. Lucky in a loose sense as they’d abuse me with a lot of work and even use me as bait for monsters along the road.

I lived like that until the age of twelve. This was when I met him.

I still have vivid memories of what transpired that day. I was caught for stealing some bread by some guards at the town of Jur. They started beating me half to death, when all of a sudden I heard a man yelling for it to stop. I laid flat on my back with my vision blurred when he approached me.

“It’s alright, now. You’re mine.”

Those were not words that I could really feel any relief over. He said that I was his: like I was some piece of property. Did he pay off the baker? Is he going to make me into his slave?

The man carried me to his cart with a bunch of other stuff that he had bought. I passed out after that.

By the time I woke up, I found myself lying on a bed. An actual bed.

“You’re a very heavy sleeper, you know that?”

I noticed a girl that was about my age seated next to me after she said that.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Daddy sleeps almost as much as you do! And he’s a very good person.”

I’d never seen anyone be as friendly with me as her before.

Then, the door to the room was opened by an old-looking man.

“Is he awake?”

“Yes, daddy. I was just telling him how much you loved sleeping in everyday.”

“You— very well, then. Two can play at that game. My boy, did she also tell you how much you wet the bed while you slept.

I blushed when he said that. I couldn’t say anything in embarrassment.

“Don’t feel too bad about it. This one also constantly—”

“SHUT UP! YOU’RE EMBARRASSING ME!”

“YOU STARTED IT!”

“NO, YOU DID BECAUSE YOU KEEP SLEEPING IN!”

They gave each other death stares before suddenly laughing at each other.

“Alright, I’ll try to get up earlier starting tomorrow.”

“You’d better. What would people think if there was an emergency and they couldn’t get a hold of a doctor because he was too busy sleeping.”

“Alright, that’s enough. We still have to introduce ourselves to our new housemate.”

“Housemate?”

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It was then that I realized that I wasn’t a slave. I was even given a name: Soren.

Since then, I’ve been living with and working for the incredibly skilled Doctor Silva and his daughter, Sofia, in their home and clinic just outside the town.

I don’t really know much about what the doctor does, but I do know that he does it well.

As far as I know, the man is unparalleled in his craft, specifically in surgery. He’s both able to make real-as-real-can-be organs and attach them seamlessly with his magic. I’ve heard people say that this is something that used to be considered impossible.

I’ve also heard that back in the day, people from pretty much everywhere started seeing the doctor. It was mostly old rich folks who had failing lungs or kidneys. There were also other doctors who would come solely to admire his talent. They’d claim that it would be a waste to not witness the pinnacle of modern surgery, or something like that.

This is all prior to the doctor’s hiring of me. Part of the reason he had taken me in was because he needed someone to tend to his place while he and his daughter would be called to different places by clients who were unable to travel.

The doctor has been doing this because he’s run out of patients who would willingly come to him for surgery. Anyone who approached him before most likely doesn’t need to come back any time soon. The doctor would probably be dead or retired by the time their organs start failing again.

Of course, surgery isn’t the only thing the doctor undertakes. He has a wide collection of medicinal plants growing around the yard that are used to treat common illnesses. He had me familiarize myself with the various kinds of plants a while back in case anyone would come for treatment while he wasn’t around.

I wasn’t really into it at first. I thought that if I really had to study something, wouldn’t magic have been better? The doctor insisted, however. I’m glad he did.

It’s very interesting to me how different illnesses can be treated with different parts of different plants. One of the first I’d been taught, for example, was that the bark of willow trees can be crushed and eaten to relieve pain. The doctor often gets me to fetch some for operations.

After I got to know every plant we had, I started reading books about those that we didn’t have. It actually led to me trying to convince the doctor to bring some new plants home every now and then. One was the sorbere plant that had leaves that could absorb mana. It was used in some countries to treat mana fevers.

Over here, we couldn’t really treat the illness. People affected would either just let it pass or find mages who specialized in doing the same thing the sorbere leaves did. Simply weathering the storm was a coin flip as to whether you got better or died, and mages that could help with it were fairly rare. I’m very glad I never caught it in my childhood days.

Despite how helpful it would’ve been to have those plants, Dr. Silva was initially very adamant on not keeping any around the house. I think it was my dedication to botany that finally led him to actually bring some back. He was very proud of how far I came with my studies. Then again, Sofia probably had a hand in it too.

Sofia is not Dr. Silva’s biological daughter. She was the daughter of some peasant woman who had died giving birth to her. She had no other family ties, no inheritances, no anything. The doctor decided to take her in as his own. He really has a soft spot for orphans, it seems.

He was recompensed with more than what he had paid. Sofia is pretty much the most optimistic person I’ve ever met. She somehow finds the right words to butter you up when you’re down.

She’s also very much eager to do whatever it is I want to do. I’ve already mentioned the sorbere incident. Another time was when I had the thought of wanting to go to Isati. Within it is a very famous botanical garden with diverse plant life, including a bunch of rare ones.

“Okay, then. Let’s go!”

“What? No, I can’t possibly—”

“It’s a go. LET’S GO!”

Of course, we didn’t actually go. The doctor made a compromise with her and took me to the closest garden a town over.

I’ve been having a wonderful time living here these past few years. I often reminisce whenever those two are away. Like right now.

Suddenly, a knock at the door popped me back into reality. It’s very rare to get any visitors or clients these days. It’s usually townspeople asking for herbs.

The first thing I notice upon opening the door are those purely black eyes that seem to devour anything reflecting on them. It’s like staring into pure evil: a complete absence of joy. And yet, I couldn’t stop looking over. They had an allure to them that I just couldn’t describe.

“Quite the novelty, huh?”

The sound of a young woman’s voice finally severs my gaze. A less tunneled look at her doesn’t help. She has a sinister grin to compliment her absolutely terrifying eyes. All of this is attached to skin that has the paleness of marble.

I snap myself out of my trance. I can’t be rude to her. She probably has business with the doctor. It could be very important for someone from out of town to come visit. I bow my head to her.

“Sorry.”

“For what? I get it. You’re curious about them, aren’t you?”

“No— I mean, yes, a little.”

I respond very timidly. I still haven’t regained my composure. I can barely even make eye contact with her.

“So, may I please see Dr. Silva? This is where he lives, right?”

“Oh, he’s not here at the moment. He’ll be back by the end of the day, though.”

I’m still acting a little nervous.

“I see. Would it be alright if I waited inside?”

“D-definitely! Please, make yourself at home!”

“Thank you.”

She still has that look on her face as she enters. Who is this woman? Who did I just invite into our home?