8
Chapter 8 Independence ceremony.
The Atelier district, having shed the unusually cold season of late and welcomed the warmth of spring once more, was in the midst of adorning itself with flowers.
Ding.
The bell of the Atelier Camiu — renowned through the generations for producing high-quality paper — chimed softly. The witch who had been sitting at the counter sorting dried paper by grade could not help but smile at the sight of the visitor who had entered. The one who stepped inside was a handsome young man, tall and well-built.
The byword for every young witch's first love, and the pride of Arpenheim.
Disciple of Grand Mage Hene, Yurik.
"It's been a while. You've been busy lately, I take it."
"Ha ha, well, yes — quite busy with one thing and another."
He ran his hands over freshly made sheets, feeling them out, then walked briskly up to the counter.
"Could you wrap up about a hundred sheets for me?"
"A hundred? That many?"
"Paper this fine isn't easy to come by out there."
"True enough."
The witch of Camiu straightened with pride at Yurik's words. Whatever else might be said of her, she took boundless pride in her papermaking craft. Beyond that, she was also actively researching ever finer and more durable paper. The trees of Eldrover, in particular, nourished as they were by an abundance of mana, were famous for yielding paper of exceptional quality.
"It won't be cheap."
"I'll have to bear the cost."
"Yurik's a regular of ours, so I'll give you a bit of a discount."
"Thank you very much."
The witch called for her apprentice, and a young witch came out from within. She greeted Yurik shyly and carefully selected a hundred sheets as ordered, wrapping them with care.
Ding. He paid and stepped outside. The sunlight fell sharply, and he narrowed his eyes for a moment.
The Atelier district looked as though it were preparing for a parade — long lines were strung between buildings, hung with swaths of cloth in every color imaginable. An independence ceremony for the young witches who were soon to set out on their own was to be held. And Yurik, too, was among those to take part in this year's ceremony.
Seventeen years old this year. Given that the average time from apprenticeship to independence for witches was fifteen years, he had cut that span nearly in half.
Not that he was in any way unready. If anything, he had studied far more disciplines than most young witches his age. And in every discipline he had studied, he had earned the recognition of his seniors. They had taught him all they could — the rest was his to discover for himself.
Yurik walked the Atelier district at a calm, unhurried pace, drinking in the sunlight with his whole body. Warm greetings were sent his way from here and there, and he returned them in kind — waving, or exchanging a friendly word.
He paid visits to the mansions of Grand Mage Ingris of Mana Circuit Studies, Grand Mage Yelni of Mana Training Studies, and Grand Mage Ophelia of Magic History Studies, meeting each of them in turn. The Grand Mages offered him words of encouragement and counsel as he prepared to set out from Arpenheim.
Leaving their mansions, he thought of the members of Rilke's group, who had departed after last year's independence ceremony.
Rilke, disciple of Grand Mage Ophelia.
Monika, disciple of Grand Mage Ingris.
Olga, disciple of Grand Mage Yelni.
They had gone out into the wide world in pursuit of greater knowledge.
And now it was Yurik's turn.
'Someday, the day will come when we meet again.'
This was no eternal farewell, after all. Only a temporary parting, so that each might become something greater.
Yurik visited Adrian's cottage. She was tending the garden out front and welcomed him warmly.
"Have you eaten?"
"I'm fine on that front. Do you have anything for a snack?"
And so the two of them sat facing each other at the parlor table, talking of this and that.
Adrian kept her words and manner as composed and restrained as she could manage — yet the tender look in her eyes as she gazed at Yurik was impossible to hide.
Long ago, she had lost a beloved apprentice, a child she could not have cherished more. Since then, Yurik had taken root in a corner of Adrian's heart, and had become someone she could not do without.
And so she wanted to keep him here. She wanted to tell him not to go — to stay by her side always. ……But knowing she could not, she held her words and her actions in check.
He would need every bit of his focus just to keep himself safe in the dangerous world outside. She had no wish to become a burden on his heart.
If she could not stop him from going, she would send him off with a glad heart. She would not let him leave any lingering regrets behind.
"Yurik."
"Yes, Senior."
"Once you've gone, don't give this place a second thought. We'll get along perfectly well. You need only think of experiencing the world and coming back safe. Understood?"
"Understood."
Adrian showed him a resolute, composed face. She would not weep or mourn. There would be time enough for that after he had gone.
"Now then…. I have something to give you."
She handed him a reference volume she had compiled over years of research — a detailed record of herb lists, compounding ratios, and their effects.
"There will be times when you need it. Take it as a reference."
"I'm truly grateful."
It was a treasure of a book, the fruit of a master alchemist's lifetime of study. Its value was beyond reckoning.
"Now off with you. I still have work left to do."
"…Then I'll see you on the day of the ceremony, Senior."
"Very well."
Of course, Yurik understood her full meaning. When he had first left home, his older brother had been the same way.
By the time he had finished calling on his mentors and seniors and returned to the cottage, evening had already fallen. Night came quickly to the forest.
Master Hene shared supper with her apprentice upon his return, and afterward the two of them sat together in the armchairs and talked.
"I thought, who is this bold little one who's wandered in."
"Something drew me here. There must be such a thing as fate, Master."
From that first meeting, through learning the rune language and magic, and on to this very day.
"After you leave, I intend to be away for a time myself."
That was the first he had heard of any such plan. Yurik asked where she meant to go.
"I'm planning to head toward the central region. My research is more or less wrapped up, so I'll stop by the academy conference as well. As it happens, a colleague of mine is said to be living there."
Grand Mage Hene was a mage with a distinguished record in the field of barrier magic. The very reason her cottage in the heart of Eldrover was safe was entirely owing to her barriers.
"Your life as a mage is only just beginning, Yurik. It will no doubt be difficult. Life will not always be smooth. But you must endure it with wisdom and patience. You are more than capable of doing so."
Hene smiled warmly and took Yurik's hand in a firm, gentle grip. The warmth of each passed between them through their joined hands.
The conversation between master and apprentice stretched through the night, until the sky outside had begun to grow pale.
* * *
The independence ceremony of Arpenheim.
The witches graduating this year each marched proudly down the Atelier district, dressed in their finest. It was a ceremony in which they were recognized as full-fledged mages in their own right, making the independence ceremony an occasion of immense pride for the witches.
— Yurik, marry me now that you're independent! Everything's ready! Just show up!
— You've already sent out five of your own apprentices, so you're more of an auntie than a sister! And Yurik's going to marry me, you know!
— Yurik! Not those two! You'll be wrung dry, honestly!
A handsome head peeking out among a dozen-odd witches received cheers of congratulations, cries of well-wishing, and an encouraging round of applause from the onlookers.
Yurik sent his heartfelt thanks to the witches who had watched over him all this time.
At the end of the procession, the Grand Matron awaited. With a benevolent smile, she offered her blessings to each and every one of those setting out on their own.
"You now stand upon this ground as full-fledged mages in your own right, as mages who represent Arpenheim. I am proud of each of you, who have walked this path so admirably. I shall ask the cosmos to grant boundless glory to the road ahead of you."
And so the independence ceremony drew to a close.
Those who would remain in Arpenheim melted back into the streets, while those who were departing shouldered the packs they had each prepared.
"Well then, take care, everyone!"
— Safe travels, Yurik!
— When you come back, make sure you bring loads of handsome men with you!
Yurik bid farewell to the witches and made his way toward the entrance of Eldrover. There, a gathering of masters had assembled to see off their departing apprentices.
"Master, Seniors."
From Hene, to Ingris, Ophelia, Yelni, and Adrian.
They were people who had taken a genuine shine to one wholly unremarkable country boy. People he could not be more grateful for.
Yurik tried not to let it show, but a burning welled up inside him, and his nose stung.
"Truly — I am truly grateful for everything!"
He prostrated himself deeply before them.
"Thank you from the bottom of my heart for raising me, for loving me. Please remain safe and well until I return!"
In the end, it was the prim Ingris who turned away first and let her tears fall. Grand Mage Yelni burst out with a great roaring laugh — "Ha ha ha! You've finally grown into a proper man, you little rascal!" Grand Mage Ophelia told him to travel widely across the continent and learn much, and Adrian gave a composed, steady nod, the corners of her eyes glistening.
Master Hene pressed a generous sum of travel money into her apprentice's hands — enough to last him a good while. It was an Arpenheim tradition for a master to provide travel funds to an apprentice setting out on their own.
"Don't stint so much on yourself that you wear your body down. A mage who can pull their own weight is valued wherever they go. So seek out work from time to time, enough to keep yourself comfortable."
"Understood."
"May the cosmos show you mercy."
A mage knows the cosmos holds no sentiment.
Yet the wish for the cosmos's mercy — only a mage could truly understand the feeling behind those words.
Yurik departed.
They stood at the entrance and watched him go, for a long, long time.
He turned back one final time, bowed deeply, and then looked back no more. He walked forward with his head held high.
Yurik climbed aboard the carriage carrying the newly independent witches.
Their destination: a nearby count's castle.
A clear sky without a single cloud. Light streamed down through the ceiling of the carriage as it swayed and rattled onward.