He went where he's magic will take him—as so, not a person couldn't keep up with him; as a result, he'd shift from party to party; truth to be told the ones' who'd unrolled his tales weren't those whom he saved, rather it was those who'd fought with him—as they have it, he was a man who preferred to be in secret.
With 'Mage A' establishing the foundation of these stories, those 'problems,' rumored to all of a sudden 'disappeared,' had him being the prime culprit.
The mage having achieved popularity, not wanting to seat this one out—those other'members' seem to hop on in the trend, that being the reason those 'tales' would stack up to one another—making the hero, in the unknown as to what he wanted.
An adventurer—that abides by where the winds' will go.
——Hey, Hero... Tell me.. Where're you're whereabouts now?
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Wandering Cat: Lone
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For the girl, she wasn't really like that of a 'fan' to the hero; it just so happened that she came across him in this kind of situation—discussed to one wherever they'd been—be that as it may be a short walk, a long run, or caged up—when those scenes would be spoken—she would then be transported to unknown lands.'
——I wonder...
What would it truly be like if one could see those places with their own eyes?
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The season had just transitioned—following the cold winter months—when the world had started to warm itself up, filled with flowering plants. As warmer weather approached, even those who rested had woken up.
Somewhere not too far from Milrose, a capital resides'—more affluent than the last, Viridis was a town surrounded by trees' and plants'—known for its beautiful greenery; when spring arrives, not a place will hold a candle to its sights.' If one were to take in every part of the surroundings,' what they'll meet is the neverending piece of landscape that'll appear before them.
Viridis wasn't like that at the beginning—the unknown barren land being nothing but a bother to the community was sold for dirt-cheap price to a ruined nobleman; having lost everything at the fight—they say he spent his remaining days' enriching said spot—no matter what; as though those hard work was paid off—as it passed on to generations' and generations'—the notable land had become what is recognized.
...
For the area was surrounded by towering mountains'—it temporarily housed those who lost their own; as unexpectedly, monsters' or demons' hadn't dared pass; they were delighted and stayed at the lands'—but, eventually, once a year, one would've fallen into a severe disease: powers' gone berserk, and sooner or later would've left them to their demise.
It is thought that it was due to the spirit that dwelled within—they've trespassed; therefore, in exchange for their safety, they would've required an offering. And around this time, even when the conflict had come to an end, the people, with great gratitude to the ones that served them, had fallen into great misery, as rumors had stated that their young lady had been doomed with the cursed illness.
Even if they'd called upon the wisest of men, even if they'd summon those of brilliance talent—all would be of no use—the family, having done everything they could, had given up and confirmed the date of her passing;
'Once the month of beginning had ended, as usual, those of the ill-fated would be no more.'
Thus has it always been.
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Apart from the town—a hillside road led to that residence; the noble that built it was the founder of Viridis—having preferred solitude, he built his property upon that place.
It was a manor of medieval style—constructed of stone white walls' and timbers' for a roof; as it had stood there for awhile, the need for repairment is still visibly seen—chipped paint', damaged top,' and broken glass—but what stood out were the branches that stuck out and circled a part; it's root goes back to the young girl who've lay there in the dark.
The girl—known as Frey Viridis, whose golden hair had faded to a shade of gray colorless and puny frame—her condition undoubtedly left one in bed—with that, naturally, she'd have no connection to any forms' of information, if not for the ones he'd heard outside or to the ones who'd left food' in their visits.'
But that weren't a problem for her—from a floating region, a buried site, and even underwater cities,'—she'd eavesdrop if she had to if she could hear it, as truly it fascinates' her in ways' she hadn't imagined, and sometimes she wonders if maybe one day it'll be her turn to visit these so-called places.
...
The days' passed as this—in a daydream, it had been but bliss—they weren't a tourist spot to begin with, but to her, the hours would fly by without sense, picturing those sceneries as though stored up within—but like any good thing' it decreases in number and would've reached its ending—and at last, had those stories stopped appearing—from what she'd heard, it seems the battle was over—so, then,
What would become of 'him'?
What would happen to her?
As she pondered over and over, 'it' then arrived before her.
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It was of early afternoon—cloudy and signs' of rain were in motion; perhaps that was the reason for the entry of the unknown visitor—small, clad in white—it was of unfamiliarity; as they say it's better to avoid such, despite that, as a child of innocence—"Ah...! You must be here for shelter, um, mister.?"
As per a usual routine of an invitation—she gazes directly at the creatures' direction—and as accustomed, she declares with a weak but loud voice, approaching it unguarded, albeit the distance of her approach was restricted; she used her fall to be a step closer, and in a swift the creature were at her eyes' level.
“If so... Would you stay with me for a little? "
...
An 'animal'—small, clad in white—it's ears will perk up at the slightest sound it'll hear; perhaps that uniqueness piques one's interest, and one wouldn't hesitate to call it an 'adorable' creature.
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Unlike the typical guests she'd call for—birds that stay at her branches for a nest, squirrels' that'll climb atop them, and insects' who resort to her for food and shelter—this one was different.
Other than its unusual appearance, 'it' had been seeing her, amusing itself with the branches; in spite of these connecting to her hair, it wasn't afraid of her in the slightest in contrast to what she had experienced—in fact, 'it' would always approach her.
Even had the downpour subsided; it'd drop by from time to time—though in secret and would've watched over her within limits; surely that was enough to differentiate them from each other who would've left if they got what they've wanted.
She had missed those stories about the hero, but then again, playing with the creature wasn't a bad alternative either.
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From afar, the single window placed high emits the familiar frame of a feline—stepping onto the ground, it glanced at the bedside for a moment, afterwards making its leave as if none had happened.
He had traveled afar from Milrose 'til he stumbled upon this abode—the immense amount of mana was what lured him and by some means reminded it of 'him.'—rather than what he came for, the source of it were, but a girl still a kid—much younger than the last he'd met.
Seeing as he'd mismatched the person—he'd take off as soon as possible—only if it'll be as easy; that crashing noise that pierces' the ears' followed by those bright flashes—if there was another thing he'd recollected in these days he traveled is that he'd have developed a phobia for such things,' only if that 'guy' is present, surely he'd hold no concern regarding these weak objects.
...
Luckily—she'd offered him a dwelling from the upcoming rain—this feline creature was left with no choice, as undoubtedly, wouldn't it be rude of one to decline an invitation? Thus, he'd be indebted for now—the girl, delighted with the new friend she'd made, let it out happily. "Hehe..."
She was feeble and sickly—but, on the other hand, she was brimming with this youthful energy.
...
Although it had been too much,.
“Hey, Mister!!! ”
...
“Where are you, Mister? "
...
"Mister! Mister!"
...
Whilst he was grateful—and assuredly she'd no conscious of her action nor knowledge of the creature—however, as those born with awful sensitivity eventually, he'd had to keep a degree farther; he had gone off his way to keep it as so, else he'd face torment by these horrid vibrations.
Nonetheless, that doesn't stop the girl in her torture—instead of her shouting, if he'd been caught by her, she'd be using him for entertainment; employed for petting, playing with, and communicating—“If you're staying here, Mister, let's get along alright? That's why I'll tell you about myself, and you do too, okay? "And occasionally she will tell him her stories—for sure, it'll be greater than causing air reverberation—therefore, he obliged in her needs in the meantime, more so that he'll sacrifice himself most often.
...
“Have you heard of the 'Hero,' Mister? "
As if he had declared that he hadn't—having been acquintances that silence had been ample for her to understand; however, it might've been that he didn't bother to respond. The activity this time was simple storytime—letting himself be treated as an object, he was positioned in front near the other stuffed animal.
“Tsk, tsk, I'll tell you of him then!"
Surely, even if she declined being called his follower, if asked of him—namely, in that manner—she'd click her tongue to show disappointment, pertaining to a devotee, and go to an extent to explain it in the smallest of details.'
And the stories present were once again the repetition of the ones' she'd told him—always those villages, always those towns, and continually those cities he'd have visited. The same as the last—anyhow, what was unique somehow were the expressions' and comments she'd respond with—making those repeated somewhat different.
...
Days' had passed since, and at last, the time of rain had concluded; had he wished for it to come sooner—that said, one must make do with what they'd been given; finally, he'd be able to welcome peace to life once again.
“Please! Don't go! Mister! ”
Meow—if not at current, where a fruitless argument had occurred between them—he had enough and gone through as far as his limits could take him—to think he'd be stopped from leaving by a child that clung to him.
"Please, if you too left—I!" regardless of her typical strong persona; the girl's dried-up tears had flowed down her cheeks.'
——I'll be all alone again...
“Please...please.”
...
The young girl who's dropped on the floor weeps helplessly—for once, even someone as her resembled those of poorly. If there's a thing that he'd figure out in the span of a few days' were that she'd been keeping it together through a facade; now, broken—unable to bear witness—only this time, in a lonesome room, from a distance he'd keep her company—for what emits from her would someday' swallow her wholely.
...
As an agreement had been established between them, she avoided being noisy—but that doesn't mean she couldn't hang onto him; hence, whenever they'd have time or she'd managed to get a hold of him, they'd spend it once more to her fancy—now seated at her lap, he sat there being brushed lightly.
“You see, Mister, I have a dream." Holding both sides, she stopped what she was doing and stood there proudly.
About those tales' and stories—undoubtedly they were the same, but every time she did tell them, at the end, she'd finished it off with these dreams.'
'Someday, she'll be the one' to venture out to such places.'
As surprising as it might sound, this was the wish she'd been keeping.
...
"What, you don't believe me!"
Somehow enough, for an acquintance, she'd acquire an ability that sees through the mind, or this face of him had been the type that was easy enough even for a child to understand—thus, her state in a pout—but per usual, in a quick minute, she'd resume her normal appearance and would've recoiled back.
"Mother would've told me that if you wished hard enough, it'd come true, so when I get out of here, you'll show me around, okay?"
And just like that, he'd been burdened with a troublesome promise.
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The young miss, Frey Viridis, whose golden hair reflects the morning light, a shade of green in her eyes'—as a girl of noble birth; spoiled since the very beginning, she was unalike those others they'd heard—the radiant smile she'd wear was of pure delight to whomever may have seen her.
Retrospectively, she hadn't been the type to be spoon-fed; she hadn't really sought anything, even with her standing, even if she'd been left out of everything.
Not a thing changed since, except for now—uncapable of anything else; after that many days spent of her remaining time, she now laid down her deathbed.
...
They say when you're at the peak of death, you'll be reminiscent of your life—though hers' was mostly focused on those of her past time.
She has remembered it all too vividly—well, perhaps even at these final moments' she still hoped she could run like those times' when she was a kid—she wouldn't then be picky nor be disgusted; at the very least, she would've enjoyed it now that it comes to this.
Unqualified to greet someone, as for the branches that clung to her, don't listen; she'll have to be away from those that visited; hence, she'd put on the face of being in the phase and chase out those others' that'd attempt to see her—including her mother.
If not for her illness, she would've been as great of a ruler—destined to be the next in line in the family, her mother, the current leader—as someone raised in a poor family—and her husband having died early, she'd hope for nothing but for Frey to be content; hence, growing up, she'd taken care of Frey ever since she was a baby, not wanting her status to influence her—she'd been the very role model of her daughter and would've hated it if she'd been a tad bit selfish.
Though in times' she'll wake up at night—half a dazed she'll sometimes see her by her side'—even if it meant putting herself in danger from her own child; that strong mother she had known all her life, who taught her of strength, would cry feebly—apologizing for giving her a weak body—in spite of her, not even taking care of her own, and as Frey had done, she would've come back to herself and left without having said anything else.
Had she been granted a wish, she'd hope she could travel back to when she was a child—her illness hadn't really come around then; when that happens, she'll be the kid she is and act her age, accepting to be spoiled rotten by those around her—surely, her mother wouldn't forbid that now, right? If it was too much, by chance, she'd be offered to trade in anything for it; maybe she'd do it.
...
But then, again—“Geez, mister.”
——What about Mister? If I'd done that, wouldn't I be able to meet him at all?
...
They met under those circumstances—in those times—no matter how much she whined, no matter how greedy or selfish she'd have been—none were an issue for him; even at current—her fragility where'd she'd been a burden, the feline who wasn't called at her bedside stayed there for no matter how long now.
Had she been wishing the wrong things' all along? If so, just this is enough—if she could be blessed with one wish—and one wish only;
——Please don't let Mister be alone.
Then right now she'd disobeyed her mother and be selfish, wishing a path of happiness for him—one where he wouldn't have to feel lonely—and one where he'd carry on carrying her dreams.'
...
With that set, as the wind of spring ended, the girl who's caged up as a bird finally rested.
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Somewhere not too far from Milrose, a capital resides'—Viridis, as it was known, and as tales have it, spirits reside in it that'll require an offering in a span of a year in exchange for their protection—the once green lands' went back to being barren as those rumors weren't that they hunted them but the land itself.
When the last of its victims—a girl of young age—was taken, the owners' hadn't taken it all in, and her mother's not wanting to bear sight of what happened made it her passion to discover the mystery that lurks within.
Many years had passed since—before her own passing, the land was investigated and was said to be the problem—it emits and gives out mana to whomever needs it, thus making those weakly given out mana when they've been born in lack of it; so, in the end, that was what saved them from fraility—but even if they've been grateful for it not standing for an overflow of mana once again, when the last line of descendants of Viridis has moved on, the people of the lands' abandon the place and now wander to every part of the world, in search of the homes' they've once were part of.
The land of greens—Viridis, now said to be hidden far from the eyes of humans—is said to have taken the elves liking, and now these beings have been living within these forests.'