Flowers
“……”
His throbbing body felt like he had caught a cold. Raichen reached out and checked his temperature. Through mana, it was in the normal range. So there was nothing wrong with his body.
Then it must be my heart.
He didn't want to attribute meaning to something as abstract as the heart. But he couldn't deny the complex emotions affecting his body.
He washed up neatly and checked the time. The clock by the window showed 8 a.m. Having overslept by about three hours compared to usual, his condition clearly wasn't great.
“……”
As he stared at the clock, his gaze naturally fell on the potted plant on the windowsill. The Plenia flower, now wilted into a dull gray after its magic had faded. Its beauty and meaning were both gone.
Plenia's flower language was "protected love." Its death stirred another wave deep in Raichen's chest.
Because he hadn't protected it.
Raichen donned his robe, left his room to pay morning respects, and headed to Gellawind.
The oval magic tower. Higher ranks lived higher up, so when Raichen leaned over the railing, people below looked like ants. Clouds sometimes drifted through the corridors; the tower was that massive.
In the open center were self-moving platforms. Some called them "elevators," others the "central walkway." The reason was simple: the diverse backgrounds of the countless mages in the tower.
Mages from the Academy, those hired by recommendation without graduating. They were varied, with subtle mutual exclusion.
The Academy was conservative. Recommendations were radical. Simple classifications like that persisted, but peering deeper revealed it wasn't so binary.
Mages were that complicated and tangled.
Knock knock.
"Master, it's Raichen. I've come to pay my morning respects."
Riding the central walkway to a higher floor, Raichen stood before his master's door. This area housed only grand mages, so encounters were rare.
"Master?"
Still sleeping? He entered quietly to wipe his master's body, as was his duty.
His master sat in the rocking chair, eyes closed in perfect stillness. Yes, still.
The mana-recycling rocking chair held him without the slightest tremor.
“……”
Standing calmly before him, Raichen gently placed fingers on the wrinkled hand. Faint warmth, but the mana slept quietly.
He looked around. The tidy room felt stark, devoid of human scent.
His vision blurred. Adjusting his slipping glasses, he mulled over his master's teachings.
Become a better person.
Not a great mage, but a good person.
Gellawind's final words were lonely. He might have wanted to leave something unsaid. A lifetime condensed into words rising in the gap between life and death.
But no one was by his side. Not even someone to listen at the end.
"Did you leave in such loneliness... to teach me about solitude—."
His voice trembled despite trying to sound composed.
"Is that why you passed so alone?"
In the endlessly lonely scene, Gellawind's last words echoed.
Become a better person than me.
“Hic……”
His knees buckled. Tears welled beyond his fallen glasses, dripping down.
“Kuhk! Haa—!”
Hot breaths burst with words that never formed. You were my idol. My master. My father.
Master of Magic's True Position, Gellawind Palchesta. At 87 years old. He closed his eyes in solitude.
The funeral was held. The magic tower halted all research, mourning the great mage called True Position. His lifetime achievements were erected as stone tablets at the entrance.
The grand mage's end was splendid, but Raichen at the center felt emptiness.
What good is this?
No one had been by his master's side at the end. Not even himself.
To Raichen, it all seemed for their own satisfaction. Assurance for grand mages that their own ends would be grand. Motivation for young mages to strive toward greatness.
While Gellawind had seen it all as futile and closed his eyes.
And even—
"Raichen, Gellawind's death is tragic, but talk of his legacy is reality."
With no ordinary will left, discussions of his estate were rampant.
"He had so much. Even the warehouse in the tower he owned—."
"Ahem, shouldn't we first compose ourselves?"
Grand mages and tower elders eyed the legacy greedily. In the quiet funeral hall, their darting eyes were stark.
Those seeing gain in death, those scheming profit, those prepared for it. Shadows stirred.
“……”
No time even to mourn. He had to protect his master's legacy—
"Um, excuse me."
At the tower entrance turned funeral hall. Faded blonde hair, age spots under eyes, a small voice echoing off walls. Beloah of the Infinite Library.
She shuffled in hesitantly.
"Th-that woman—."
"Be-Beloah? She came from the library?"
"Heavens—! Them too!"
Not just Beloah. Three more followed. Ophelia in a black suit from the 3rd floor. A man with frizzy hair and bulging eyes. A boyish man in a robe emblazoned with the Belden royal crest.
"Abyss Research Club!"
Not all seven, but heretics who fused magic with outside tech despite Academy roots. Legends since disbanded. They had come.
"Do they hold a grudge against Gellawind?"
"He led the disbandment back then."
"How dare you come here! Leave now!"
Amid the mages' shouts, Ophelia clicked her tongue.
"If I'd sent Beloah alone, she'd have slunk back without a word."
"Haha, true. But reuniting like this feels like a class reunion. Isn't there one of ours in the tower?"
The boyish man grinned casually. Too young-looking for a Belden royal mage.
Beloah approached Raichen briskly and opened the book in her arms. Golden mana filled the tower. Ink and aged wood scents calmed hearts.
"Per Grand Mage Gellawind Palchesta's dying request, I deliver his will to his direct disciple, Raichen."
Her small voice rippled like a stone in the tower's lake.
"A will? You have Gellawind's will?!"
"Ridiculous! It's forged!"
Beloah ignored the cries. The direct disciple would know its authenticity.
"Why... do you have this?"
"No one safer to entrust documents to."
Raichen's hands shook receiving it. Beloah leaving the Infinite Library was an event itself.
"You left the library... to deliver this?"
"Years ago, Grand Mage Gellawind visited me. He said,"
“……”
"He was sorry."
Raichen's eyes shook. Others looked troubled. Conservative Gellawind, rejecting new things?
"Message delivered. May I offer condolences to the great mage and go?"
"Didn't you resent Master?"
“……There were times."
Calm resolve in her steady reply.
"Not now."
Raichen nodded at her soft smile. For some reason, these alone truly mourned his master.
"I never forgave him... but can't deny he was great."
"Haha, he was something."
The other Abyss Research Club mages followed, offering condolences. After they left, Raichen carefully read the will aloud.
"The star that burned out fades, and a new era breathes."
"I, Gellawind Palchesta, now exit the stage."
"The curtain rises on the age."
"Young mages, do not follow this old star."
Tears welled again. After his master's death, the schemers retreated.
The end of an era.
And.
The birth of a new one.
That day was peaceful. Busy with customers, but smooth.
"Three hundred million."
Until three hundred million in cash nearly landed on my desk.
Raichen's rare visit. Amid confusion, he explained flatly.
"My bounty. Bounty hunters set it. Low for my rank due to minimal outside activity."
"Ah, n-no— what?"
"Didn't I promise? If I hurt Kim Da Jeong, I'd give my life."
True, he had said that. I'd heard it didn't work out with her. But I never planned to take his life.
"Aigoo, Renea was sharpening arrows."
Not that I'd refuse three hundred million. The landlady said the third floor was empty— time to expand? The office felt like a loan shark's den sometimes.
"Eh? This lady—?"
"Sh, shut it."
Kim Yang swiftly silenced Renea. She was efficient.
"May I ask one thing?"
"Sure?"
"Why match me with Kim Da Jeong? Just because you're close?"
Raichen's gaze differed from before. I tapped the desk, shaking my head.
"How could I? I'm a marriage agency president. My job is matching compatible people. I found the best fit within your criteria."
“……”
"Why? Uncomfortable?"
"No."
I opened a drawer, pulling out his heptagram.
"Here. Thought you might not claim it."
Raichen stared at it on the desk. Then he bowed slowly.
"Will you hire me as an employee?"
“……Pardon?”
Sudden request. But he recited conditions smoothly, prepared.
"Salary's fine. Master left a legacy. I want to work here to learn."
"S-suddenly?"
"Master told me: Not to be a great mage, but a good person."
He pushed the heptagram back, pleading earnestly.
"I want to learn about people here."
Kim Da Jeong was watering her potted plants. Ordinary days returned after the special time passed. Her usual smile boasted fulfillment despite modest means.
But it sometimes faded.
Today too. Smiling as she watered, her lips slowly drooped.
Bitter, she reached for coffee when a customer arrived.
"Welcome—."
Muscular build, square glasses, green hair. The man held the wilted flower pot carefully.
"Can you revive this flower?"
To bloom a flower, water it. Give it sun, wind. Patiently, steadily.
Results aren't immediate.
But necessary.
Today, Kim Da Jeong began a love like a flower.
She'd water it.
Give it sun.
Let wind blow.
The process might seem pointless at a glance.
But patiently, calmly waiting.
One day.
It will bloom.