Until Next Time, Farewell

At some point, the small hours of dawn had arrived.

I woke, but did not rise at once. I remained lying in bed for a brief meditation. That is my habit for beginning the day.

When the meditation ended, I rose and stepped out onto the terrace. The cool chill of the floor beneath my bare feet, the crisp air sweeping over my skin — together they carried away what little sleep and weariness still lingered in me.

Dawn was brightening along the horizon. When I lean against the railing and quietly watch that ceremony of the rising sun, I am reminded once more of the vastness of the universe. No magic in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this world could ever be greater than that.

A maid knocked at the door and entered bearing washwater. I washed my face in water so clear that my reflection shimmered on its surface, then rinsed my mouth with the salted water she handed me.

"I trust you are well again today, my lady."

I only nodded. Everyone says I have no emotions. That I neither startle nor rejoice nor grieve. But it is not so. I do grow startled, joyful, and sorrowful. I simply do not show it as others do. It is merely habit. Yes, it is habit.

I combed my hair and dressed — as comfortably as I possibly could. I am told it hardly befits a noble lady. Even so, I do not much mind.

I went to the dining hall and ate a simple meal. A bite of bread, a spoonful of soup, two grapes. With that, I prepared to go out — to the Southern Branch, as I do today.

These days I visit the Southern Branch every single day. Ever since that person arrived. In truth, this is the first time I have ever called upon anywhere so often.

He is remarkable. A man who improved the barrier magic of the entire southern front in a mere three days. It would probably be correct to call him a genius.

His understanding and interpretation of circuits is original, nothing short of revolutionary. So that we might exchange knowledge and insights about circuits, I meet with him briefly each day.

When I need fresh air, I sometimes visit the garden. There is a beautiful place there that only I know of.

Then one day, he was there. He was drawing.

"What a beautiful place this is, my lady. I wanted so badly to preserve it in a drawing."

He draws. He draws many beautiful pictures.

"If the chance arises sometime, I would like to draw you as well, my lady. Would that be all right?"

I said it would be. I was curious what a portrait of me, from his hand, might look like.

I spend each day in the research hall, studying and investigating circuits. And through all of this, I resolved to take up again the circuits that had been cast aside as outdated. I hear that mages like me have grown considerably in number of late.

"My lady, if you study deeply how the existing runes were improved upon over the generations, it will aid you greatly."

And so I studied the history of the runes, consulting countless tomes of magic. It was truly astonishing. Through those runes, our ancestors had already been showing us the path of progress all along.

It was delightful. It was a continuous stretch of days among the most joyful of my life.

I began to look forward to the hours I spent with him. Sometimes, simply looking at his drawings was a delight in itself.

"My lady, would you care to come out to the square with me? Have you ever seen the stall streets?"

It had been a very long time since I had gone out to the square. Of the stall streets I had heard only in passing; I had never once seen them myself.

I said I would go. When I returned to the castle and told the maids, they declared that it was a date between a man and a woman. When I insisted it was nothing of the sort — that we would simply be strolling the square together — the maids only smiled in that strange way of theirs.

After hearing the word date, I found I could not sleep, oddly enough. My thoughts kept returning to him. His figure flickered before my eyes. And those maids, smirking so wryly, came to mind.

And then that day arrived. I dressed with care. I stopped the maids from adorning me any further. I emphasized, once more, that this was not a date.

"Of course, my lady. Whatever you say."

I had declared that we would discuss magic circuits at the square. I fully intended to. I had to.

The maids fastened a pretty pin into my hair. One that I was fond of.

In the corridor, I met my elder brother. He asked where I could be going, dressed up like this.

I said I was going to study. His eyes curved in that peculiar way.

"Very good. Study hard, then."

I made my way first to the Southern Branch. Before the small fountain in the garden, he was at his drawing. A flower bloomed beautifully beneath his hand. It was like magic.

I meant to wait until he had finished the flower. But my escort gave a discreet cough. Unable even to wait for that — what a man without a scrap of romance. Is this not precisely why old men go on losing ladies, time and again?

He turned toward me, and his eyes widened. He wiped the charcoal from his hands.

"You've come, my lady."

Yes — forgive me for interrupting. Well then, shall we be off?

We walked along together, side by side. He looked at me and said,

"You look beautiful. And the hairpin is truly lovely."

Strangely, my back began to tingle. I could not think how to answer. Even so, saying nothing at all would have been a breach of courtesy.

I told him I was grateful, and that he looked fine himself.

We kept walking. Yet for a long while, we walked without a word.

Even so, it was pleasant. My heart was beating, strangely enough.

The sky was bright without a single cloud. The warm sunlight pouring down felt pleasant against my skin.

How long had it been since I came out into the town? So long that my memory of it had grown hazy.

I quite forgot the resolve I had made, to speak of circuits. That is how lovely the weather was.

"It's peaceful, isn't it? How wonderful it would be if days like these went on forever."

I said I hoped so too. He smiled as he looked at me. I found myself staring down at the ground instead. At the pattern of stones in the path.

Before long we arrived at the square. The square, with its clock tower rising high above it, was terribly peaceful.

He led me off to a corner, and asked me to sit there. He laid several sheets of paper down on the ground for me, and I sat upon them.

"May I draw you, my lady?"

I gave my permission. He sat before me, propped his board with paper against it, and began to draw. At his gaze, which returned to me at steady intervals, my face and my chest grew inexplicably hot.

The drawing did not take long. He handed the paper to me. The harmony of bold lines and fine ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ones could not have been more beautiful. For a long, long while, I gazed at my own portrait.

"Do you like it?"

Of course I do.

I wanted to give him something in return. But I had not thought to prepare anything. I realized my mistake.

We began walking once more. This time, toward the stall streets that branched off the square. The street was thick with crowds. People were shouting here and there all around us.

Goods of every imaginable sort were spread across the street. My eyes were stolen by the curious wares — weapons, statuettes, jewels, ornaments, books, herbs... there was truly nothing that was not there.

Partway along, he stopped without warning. And he bought something, and pressed it into my hands.

"They say it's a charm that brings good luck."

Forgive me, but I do not believe in superstitions. And yet, coming from him, this somehow felt as though it might bring luck after all.

I wished to buy one for him in turn, but I could not tell what any of it was. After wandering about for a long while, I ended up buying a statuette. My escort murmured that I had very likely paid far too much for it.

I gave the statuette to him. It was one shaped after an owl. In mage circles, the owl signifies wisdom. It was a good meaning.

He smiled with his eyes in thanks. And this time, I did not look away either.

We walked the street side by side. And then we returned to the branch.

And so that day came to an end. We never spoke of circuits at all. Not once, right up to the end, did the thought even occur to me.

After that day, I felt I had grown much closer to him. Now and then he gave me gifts, and I to him. I loved his drawings. I put them in frames and hung them about my room.

Sometimes I set down a book of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠magic mid-page and simply sit, gazing at the pictures. And then his face comes to mind. His smile comes to mind too.

I go out to the branch every day.

I meet him.

I speak with him.

I stroll the garden with him.

I look at his drawings.

I am with him.

Yes. Together.

At some point — yes.

"My lady, I leave tomorrow."

For a moment, I could think of nothing at all. Truly, not a single thought came.

"It has been such a joy, being together with you all this time."

No thoughts come.

"You treated insignificant me as though I were a friend. Thank you."

He said friend.

A friend. Yes. So we were friends.

"I will come visit again, I promise. And then I will bring more drawings, and more stories to tell you."

I could not say a word. Like a fool, I simply kept my head bowed low.

Why did I never realize it, all this time?

He was a wandering mage. Someone who was always meant to leave.

I lifted my head again as though nothing had happened. And I told him to travel safely.

Yes. That was all there was. I returned to the castle a little early.

I felt strange. My mind ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was hazy.

Over dinner, my mother and father asked me, again and again, whether I was all right. I said I was fine.

My brother came to find me.

"Angèle, are you quite all right? Is something the matter with you? Are you unwell somewhere?"

I am fine. I'm fine. There is nothing wrong with me.

Nothing is wrong with me.

Night came.

Sleep would not come.

I closed my eyes.

My breathing grows ragged.

I opened my eyes again.

Strangely, I could not bear it.

And so I passed the night without sleeping.

I lay in bed, yet did not sleep so much as a wink.

It is already dawn. He will have departed in the early hours before daybreak.

Suddenly, my breath caught tight in my chest. I called for the maid. I changed my clothes in haste.

"My lady? What on earth has come over you, so suddenly?"

And I went out. Toward the branch.

But he was not there. He had already gone.

In the end, I returned to the castle once more.

And I went into my room and sank down heavily into a chair.

It was then that his drawings came into my view.

Ah.

On the walls of my room — his drawings — yes.

His drawings hung all around me.

His drawings.

The pictures he had drawn — they filled my room.

Only then did I come to know.

Yes. That's right.

Yes.

What this is.

Only now do I understand.

He is gone.

And yet his drawings remain.

In my room.

In my heart.

Yes.