Hyran Highlands
"Ah, mage."
"Yes?"
I had just finished checking the condition of the sword and was about to hand the blacksmith the Ice Horn blade along with the payment I had promised when he spoke.
"Young one. Would you do me a favor?"
"A favor?"
"Yes... Seeing that glittering starlight of yours brought back a memory I had long forgotten."
The blacksmith began to ramble, groping through the past as if the recollection were still half-buried.
In his story he had been a young man once—a dream-filled adventurer wandering the vast desert.
"That was where I saw it. The wide night sky. The glittering starlight embroidered across that endless expanse."
It was a rather interesting tale.
I settled down across from him and listened.
Some would have dismissed it as the drunken rambling of a sot.
But I wanted to hear him out. There was no particular reason.
It was simply that the blacksmith's face, as he relived the memory, looked so genuinely happy.
"It was a beautiful sky. Back then I wandered the barren desert with that starlight as my only companion."
"More beautiful than the night sky outside?"
"Incomparably so. That was where I learned stars could flow like a river—just like the magic you poured into that sword."
"Magic..."
"Yes, magic. That starlight drew me on like a spell. And then I met him."
"Who did you meet?"
"My master."
"Oh..."
"He stood before me and hammered iron."
"Without a word?"
"Well... I can't recall what we talked about. In any case, he hammered. Hammered and hammered again. And then something astonishing happened."
"What happened?"
"Don't be startled when you hear this. Brilliant starlight began to flow beneath that hammer..."
With that the blacksmith let out a long yawn.
A thick reek of liquor billowed out.
"And then?"
"And then... ahem..."
He could not properly answer my question.
Dead drunk, he had begun to nod off.
Even when I spoke to him he gave no reply.
I clapped my hands sharply in front of his face; only then did his eyes begin to flutter open.
"Aigoo... Getting old makes a man tired... Now, where was I?"
"You'd gotten to the part where your master was hammering the night sky."
"Ah, then I'm finished... Right. Let's see..."
The blacksmith staggered to his feet and headed deeper into the shop.
Afraid he might fall again, I followed. From the back he produced a small dagger and held it out to me.
"Could you deliver this dagger to him...?"
"This dagger?"
"Yes. If you promise, I won't take my fee."
With those words he sank back down where he stood.
And began to snore.
I looked down at the blacksmith, the dagger in my hand.
Once he sobered up, would he even remember what he had said?
Even if I wanted to grant his request, the problems were many.
A blacksmith hammering a sky where stars flowed, somewhere in a barren desert—which way was I supposed to go?
Still, it was a fine chance to save money.
Not a coin or two, but a commission worth dozens of gold.
I stepped out of the smithy and looked up at the night sky.
Perhaps because I had listened to a drunkard's tale, the stars seemed to glitter and stream toward some distant place.
An adventurer's journey is a thing of impulse.
I headed straight for the inn, slung my large pack over my shoulder, and left.
The streets after the coming-of-age ceremony were still deep in the after-party.
Joyful laughter, overflowing drink and food, dazzling spectacles that tugged at the eye.
I brushed it all aside and made for the post station where the carriages gathered.
It was late evening, yet the area around the station bustled with people.
I approached the cluster of coachmen and asked,
"Is there a carriage headed for the desert?"
The coachmen fell silent as if startled by the question.
Then they burst into loud laughter.
"No carriage goes straight to the desert. You'd have to pass through several cities."
"The desert? Which desert do you mean?"
That came from the only one among them who had not mocked me.
I looked at him and answered,
"They said it was a place where the stars flow like a river."
"The Resting Place of Stars?"
"Is that what it's called?"
"If that's the only feature you mentioned, nothing else comes to mind but the Resting Place of Stars."
"Then that must be it. Does your carriage go that way, mister?"
"Unfortunately mine doesn't go that far."
"I see..."
The coachman studied me, then flicked the cigarette from his mouth to the ground.
The butt skittered lightly across the cold winter wind, its tiny ember glowing clear.
"Leaving right now, are you?"
"Is the carriage running?"
"Would I be standing here if it weren't?"
"How much is the fare?"
"Thinking of paying before you even know how far you're going?"
"How far does it go?"
"Hyran Highlands. Happens to be close to that Resting Place of Stars you want."
"I'll take it."
"One gold."
I handed him the coin and he pointed to a large carriage in the corner.
It was already packed with passengers, yet when I drew near they made room.
As I looked around the interior I started in surprise.
Someone familiar was sitting farther inside.
"Oh..."
"Ah..."
How could anyone forget a frame that large?
Just as before, a massive battleaxe hung across his back.
It was Agul, the half-orc warrior who had once introduced himself that way.
He seemed to recognize me as well.
"Hello, Mr. Agul."
"Er..."
Apparently he had forgotten my name.
I climbed aboard and supplied it.
"I'm Ceris."
"Oh, Ceris...?"
The one who reacted to my introduction was a woman seated in the corner of the carriage.
A sturdy-looking longbow was slung across her back.
"You know me?"
"No, not really. Just that earlier today near the inn a mage was looking for someone named Ceris. Did you meet that mage?"
A mage looking for me?
Could it be Rain from the Magic Tower? Or Isolin, if not her?
Either way, it was not welcome news.
I gave an awkward smile and nodded.
"Yes, well. I met them a little while ago."
"I see~"
With that the woman closed her eyes.
She seemed ready to sleep.
Quite a few others inside the carriage were doing the same.
"You haven't changed a bit, Mr. Agul."
"Uh. Mm..."
Agul was still carving a wooden figure with a small knife.
This time a handsome eagle was taking shape under his hands.
While I was looking around the carriage, the coachman settled into the driver's seat and shouted,
"We're off! Hold on tight, everyone!"
Late that evening the carriage I rode mixed among the others and swiftly left the capital of the Karuma Empire behind.
With a clatter of hooves the great walls began to recede.
I pulled a thick blanket from my pack and wrapped it around myself.
Spending the night on a carriage lashed by the icy winter wind was no small hardship.
The other passengers, like me, huddled under blankets and curled in on themselves.
The jostling ride and the cutting cold made proper sleep impossible.
I drifted half-dozing, jolted awake each time the carriage lurched, and let the hours slip past.
How long it lasted I could not say.
When I finally began to blink my bleary eyes, the sun was rising beyond a wide expanse of pure white snow.
The long night had ended; morning had come.
"Ah..."
In that moment I felt a change.
The Mana Circle that had been quietly rotating near my heart melted completely and merged with the starlight as one.
On the day I turned fourteen, I had perfectly absorbed the mana of the calm-flowing sea.
"Hoo..."
With a steady breath the sea's mana spilled out, spreading gently and rolling across the white snowfield like a wave.
Rain had been spending her time training inside the Magic Tower when she received her master's summons.
Ordinarily she would have pretended to be elsewhere and avoided the call, but today that was impossible.
Her master had come in person along with the summons.
"W-what is it...?"
"Read this."
The old mage handed his disciple a single sheet of paper.
It was a mission report from a young mage.
"This is..."
Rain read the report her master had given her.
At a glance it looked ordinary, yet a closer look revealed something strange.
"Ceris entered the Magic Tower?"
"Would that be possible?"
"Then..."
"It seems this girl named Ceris has been impersonating a Tower mage."
Cold sweat beaded on Rain's brow at her master's words.
Impersonating a mage of the Magic Tower was a grave crime.
In the worst case one could spend a lifetime in prison.
Rain thought it over.
A girl from a country village who knew nothing of the world. Ceris could not possibly have understood how serious a crime mage impersonation was.
Rain was genuinely worried for the small girl named Ceris.
"It seems your words were true after all."
The old mage could finally believe the claim he had half-dismissed as his disciple's fussing.
Of course, he still could not be certain about the starlight mana that little girl had shown.
"W-what do we do...? If Ceris gets caught..."
"No problem—if the contents of that report are true."
"But..."
The old mage waved a hand lightly.
At once Rain's scattered clothes rose into the air and were sucked into a large bag.
"Master?"
"Ceris will become a Magic Tower mage carrying out a secret mission."
"You mean...?"
"To make that so, we must move quickly."
The old mage thought to himself.
At first he had written it off as coincidence. Mere exaggeration from his disciple.
Had he not gone looking for the girl named Ceris only to find an empty trail?
But a single report had lent weight to Rain's words. If the report was accurate, the girl named Ceris had, less than a year after awakening her mana, grown into a mage capable of using the Battle Mage's signature Mana Bolt to contend with a Death Knight.
How could one let such a mage slip away? Naturally she had to be brought in and made his disciple.
"We go to the Karuma Empire."
The old mage left the Magic Tower together with his young disciple.