The Eagle's Choice
The eagle, as it ages, finds its wings growing heavy and its beak and talons curving so sharply that it can no longer hunt. At that point, the eagle faces two choices: starve to death, or risk death by tearing out its beak and feathers to grow new ones. This self-improvement anecdote, heavy with the scent of self-improvement, was, as you might have guessed from that very scent, a complete lie. Eagles do not tear out their beaks and feathers. The moment you break an eagle's beak, dense with blood vessels and nerves, it dies screaming in agony. And the very belief that simply plucking beak and feathers could avert death was itself an insult to death. Time is not fair to anyone, but death is perfectly fair to all. Everyone meets their end. Children, youths, the elderly. Mages included.
Glug, glug. After pouring water into a cup, I headed for the bedroom. The moment I opened the door, a thick hospital smell hit me. No medicine was being used, yet the scent lingered all the same.
"I'll air the room out."
I opened the window. Clear, clean air filled the space.
"Cough."
"I'll close it."
"No. It's fine. Leave it."
Kelton spoke weakly, then closed his eyes. I glanced at the bedside table. The food sat untouched. Earlier, when I'd tried to feed him, he'd insisted he'd eat on his own, so I'd left it there. As expected, not a single bite had been taken.
"You'll ruin your body if you starve."
"……."
"I'll bring you something fresh."
"Ruina."
"Yes."
"Sit."
I set the bowl aside and took the chair. When I stared at him, Kelton continued with his eyes still shut.
"Let's play a game of chess."
"Are you sure you're up to it?"
"A mage's mind doesn't stop until their mana runs dry. Remember that."
I brought over the Arcana chessboard as he wished and set it up. Once every piece was in its proper place, I asked,
"You won't be moving them yourself, will you?"
"I'll call the moves. You move the pieces for me."
"I'll move the pawn in front of the Royal Knight to d4."
"I'll move the pawn in front of my Royal Knight to d5."
Tap, tap, tap. Only the sound of pieces being placed echoed through the bedroom. After some time passed, I lifted a knight high and shouted,
"I'll evolve this knight into a Dragon Knight—ultimate evolution!"
"Checkmate."
"I won!"
Using the ultimate evolution that could only be played once per game, I struck down Kelton's king. It was the first time in seven years.
"I won."
"Your skill has improved quite a bit."
"It's the first time I've beaten you in seven years!"
"Such a fuss."
Kelton chuckled, then confessed in a whisper.
"Truth is, even my master couldn't beat me at Arcana chess. Once I got used to it, that is."
"No wonder. I've never lost a board game anywhere else, so it felt strange that I couldn't win against you."
If even an 8th-rank Archmage couldn't defeat him, Kelton might well have been the strongest chess player in human history.
"Maybe you're the greatest and strongest chess player in history, Kelton."
"Could be."
"Which means that by beating you, I'm number one."
"Getting all high and mighty after barely beating a dying old man."
"You're the one who said a mage's mind stays sharp until their mana runs out. It was a fair fight."
Kelton laughed again. I laughed too. Outside, spring birds sang beautifully, and warm sunlight filled the room. I took Kelton's hand and asked slowly,
"Kelton. Is there anything you want from me?"
*
"Kelton. Is there anything you want from me?"
What he wanted. Kelton knew exactly what Ruina meant by those words. It was an offer to grant a wish in return for taking her in, caring for her, and teaching her magic all this time. A price. A word Kelton rather liked. Paying a corresponding price. That was the value system Kelton had lived by. That was why he had never told anyone that his master was Adelian Croft. A mere 3rd-rank mage claiming to be her disciple would only bring shame upon his master. The habit had stuck so firmly that he had barely spoken of his master even to the disciple he eventually took in. When his master tried to leave the moment he had mastered enough magic, Kelton had asked, "How am I ever supposed to repay this debt?" His master had answered, "Just raise someone the way I raised you. That'll be enough." The idea of a 3rd-rank mage raising someone had seemed absurd, so he'd given up on it, but after reaching 4th rank, Kelton finally took a disciple. He had paid the price, however belatedly.
They say 4th rank is achievable through effort. That statement was true, yet cruel at the same time. Because it was true, Kelton had reached 4th rank. Because it was cruel, even training every single day, he had only barely reached 4th rank after turning seventy. Kelton disliked the word "effort." More precisely, he never thought of what he did as effort. Effort meant grinding one's very soul away, and Kelton had never gone that far. He had simply been diligent. He had trained whenever he had the spare time. That alone had been enough to reach 4th rank, so perhaps 4th rank was a gentle milestone for mages after all.
Kelton had reached 4th rank. He had attained the bare minimum level that would not shame his master. Kelton had reached 4th rank and raised a disciple. He had repaid, however insufficiently, the debt he owed his master. Therefore, Kelton no longer had any price left to pay. Only prices that others owed him remained.
Kelton forced his eyes open and met Ruina's gaze. Her clear, light-green eyes looked down at him. What he wanted. What he desired. What he hoped for. Ruina to do for him. He had spent his entire life paying prices. He had lived in order to pay prices. Yet even after living that way, Kelton found he wanted nothing from Ruina. He did not need a price. Only then did Kelton realize it. That a price did not always have to be collected. That such prices existed in the world as well.
Overwhelmed by the sensation, Kelton let out a low sigh inside. Ah, so that's how it was. He had known, truly known. Yet he had realized it far too late.
The regret lasted only a moment. Kelton clearly distinguished what he could still do now. His hand stroked the back of Ruina's hand. She blinked.
"Kelton?"
"Ruina. This is a trade."
Crackle. Mana surged violently. Gathering a lifetime of mana, a lifetime of resolve, and a lifetime of realization, Kelton wove a single spell. A pattern was engraved upon the back of Ruina's hand. A pattern resembling a set of scales.
"I'll give this to you. In return, you—"
Kelton spoke, then gently caressed Ruina's face.
"Don't ruin that pretty face. What in the world is a woman doing getting burned like that? Burns, of all things."
"……."
"I've saved up quite a lot of money. If you donate it to the Church, a high priest will heal you completely. Make sure you get treated first. Don't go wandering off somewhere strange."
"……."
"Don't offer your lifespan as payment. Cherish your body. Live long and stay healthy."
"Is that all?"
"Yes."
"The Fairness Committee will come after me if I do this."
"Didn't I tell you? A price doesn't have to be one-to-one. Your memory really is terrible."
Kelton let out a dry laugh. Ruina closed her mouth, lost in thought for a moment, then spoke.
"That's money you saved your whole life. It feels like such a waste."
"It's my money. Quite nosy of you to interfere with how I spend it."
Kelton had saved money because he lived an ascetic life. He simply hadn't spent it, so it had accumulated; he had never cared much for money itself. More than anything, he felt no desire to cling to it now.
"Understood."
"You listen well."
"I always listen well."
"Wipe that honey off your tongue."
This disciple of his seemed to listen but never truly did, always leaving people uneasy. Ruina said,
"Kelton."
"Speak."
"If I ever get the chance to revive someone, should I choose you then?"
Even at the very end, his disciple came up with something novel. He had never expected to hear such words at a moment like this. Kelton relaxed his body and moved his lips.
"No need for that."
"Then even if the chance comes, I shouldn't use it?"
"If it really comes to that, use it after you have children. Not before."
"Why?"
"I'm curious what your children will look like. And whether your husband is a decent man."
"What if he isn't decent?"
"I don't think you'd pick someone strange. If anything, your husband would be the one suffering."
"That's a classic framing."
Ruina looked indignant. Kelton found it incredibly amusing. A girl who jumped into fire to learn magic was now acting wronged without a shred of conscience. Kelton spoke quietly.
"If you want to stay in the village, that's fine too. I've already spoken to the village chief. He'll make things convenient for you."
"So that's why you've been hunting goblins so diligently lately."
"If you ever want to rest in your hometown, come find me later. I've spoken to the chief's son as well. If that boy succeeds him, the next few decades should be fine. You're a 3rd-rank mage, after all."
"By then I'll be a 9th-rank mage."
Yes. That might well be true. Kelton genuinely thought it might be possible.
"Also, by then I'll be three meters and ten centimeters tall."
"Ruina. It's time you faced reality. Your height isn't going to grow any more from here."
"You're saying my height ends at 160 centimeters?"
"It's 159. Not 160."
"It's 160."
What an absurd goal his disciple had set. The most ridiculous part was that she wasn't joking—she genuinely wanted that height. Kelton laughed heartily inside once more, then gathered all the strength he had left in his eyes to take in Ruina's appearance. Feeling the end approach, he slowly closed his eyes.
"Ruina."
"Yes."
"Be happy."
Kelton, 5th-rank mage. Unique magic: Balance. Age 79. He lived longer than the average person, yet passed away earlier than the average 5th-rank mage, meeting his natural end.