Episode 2-b. For Freedom and Adventure. (3) — In a Word
After leaving the adventurer's guild, Eileen and I wandered the streets in a daze. I needed to do it to calm my churning emotions, and Eileen, noticing my mood, couldn't bring herself to say a word and simply walked beside me.
I'd worried endlessly about what to do if my identity was discovered, but the truth was, it couldn't be exposed. The purpose of my journey was to help Ain, not to reveal myself and block his path or goals.
Having felt that heart-squeezing sense of crisis right from the start, my previously lax mind now sparked back to life. There was nothing good about lingering lazily in the duchy for long. My reasons for coming here first were twofold: to register as an adventurer to verify my identity to some extent, and to trace Ain's footsteps to decide my next destination.
With the first goal achieved somehow, it was right to move on to the next without delay.
Ain's traces. I knew at least one place where they would be most clearly and vividly left behind.
"…Souvenir shop."
"M-Mm…? Pardon? What did you say, Asha-nim?"
"Let's go to a souvenir shop."
"Just like that, out of the blue…?"
The countless souvenirs that had filled my room over the past three years to keep it from feeling empty—surely his traces would linger thickly in the shop where he'd bought them. Thinking that, I wandered the streets aimlessly.
"W-Wait a moment…! I'll come with you, Asha-nim!"
I quickened my sluggish steps and headed for one of the few souvenir shops in the city.
And so, I roamed the city, visiting the handful of souvenir shops and asking about Ain. Since I needed the one he frequented, I hurried from place to place in search of his traces.
After checking a few, I entered one where a musty scent, like that from antiques, hung in the air. And since that musty smell faintly emanated from the souvenirs he'd sent me, I stepped inside with some conviction.
I asked the owner, who greeted me, if she knew someone named Ain. She tilted her head for a moment before speaking.
But.
"Ain? Oh, you mean that Incompetent Ain, right…?"
"What do you mean by 'incompetent'…?"
That wasn't the thrilling story I'd hoped to hear.
"It's the label stuck to that guy who only made it to mid-level adventurer after three years of effort. Not wrong, since he really didn't have much talent to begin with."
"…I see."
It was no heroic tale about the steadfast man who always protected me.
"Yeah, honestly, I felt a bit sorry for him. There were these nasty adventurers who subtly bullied and picked fights with him. He'd act like he didn't care and brush them off, but how could anyone not mind?"
"…."
There were no shining adventure stories about Ain that I'd anticipated and hoped for.
It was simply the story of a man who, after leaving my side, endured hardships alone, accumulating wounds on his body and in his heart, yet kept pressing forward.
"I couldn't figure out why he'd go so far just to be an adventurer. One time… when he came to my shop with that impassive look, I asked him out of pity. Why keep going despite all the ignoring and disdain?"
It was the story of a man who fell time and again, knelt time and again, but rose each time, taking on even the crudest jobs to move ahead.
And.
"He said there was something he had to accomplish no matter what. He grinned and spouted some crazy talk about changing the world, so I just… thought he was impressive. Never expected someone branded incompetent to say something like that."
"…Ah."
It was undoubtedly the story infused with the same gentle smile he'd given me.
Even amid the sadness boiling up from how different it was from what I'd hoped, it lifted the corners of my mouth—Ain's trace remained.
Sweeping away the layers of comforting illusions made the footprints stand out even more clearly.
With that, the shop owner wrapped up her talk of Ain and asked me.
"So, why are you looking for him? He's always rushing around everywhere, so I wouldn't know where he is now."
She tilted her head, eyeing me with a hint of suspicion, so I gave her a slight smile in response.
"I have a reason to meet him. We've had a connection for over ten years."
"Hmm, a friend from his hometown…? Oh. Then, are you the owner of all the souvenirs he bought here?"
"Probably."
The piles of souvenirs in the small room of the grocery store proved it.
Hearing that, the owner let out a sigh of pity.
"Ah, that's a shame then…. It's been quite a while since he stopped showing up, so he's probably left for somewhere else."
"That's fine. How often did Ain visit this shop?"
"Well… he came by now and then over the three years. Adventurers don't drop into souvenir shops often, so 'now and then' is about right."
Then it really was fine. More than enough.
With that frequency, I could read his traces plenty well. Thinking so, I cautiously asked the owner's permission.
"Would it be all right if I used some magic here?"
"Hmm, sure. As long as it doesn't cause problems for my shop…."
"Thank you."
I bowed my head to her ready approval, then scattered blue mana around us.
"Wow…."
"Oh…."
The owner and Eileen's small exclamations reached me as I chanted amid them.
"Footsteps."
"Traces."
"The story one person creates."
⟨ Footprint Illusion ⟩
Ash doesn't spread. The blue mana, feeling almost not my own, rippled and expanded, soon engulfing the small shop interior.
"I-Is this really o-okay…?"
"A-Asha-nim…?"
"It's fine."
What I'd created with mana was an illusory space. Molding and reshaping the breaths and touches he'd left behind, pressing down layer upon layer of his affection and memories accumulated throughout the shop.
Gathering the mud from where his boots had lingered long and the footprints etched as he finally moved on, forming a soft, fluffy vision of the past.
A magic I'd crafted myself solely to pursue his trail. A magic born from thinking of one person alone.
Of course, there was no need to inflate it this large, and I could have made it visible only to me.
Well… yes. When it came to him, I couldn't help wanting to express it a bit excessively.
And then it came.
- Hello, I'm here to buy some souvenirs.
His voice rang out vividly after so long.
- Hmm… for now, what would a woman like?
His face appeared, a bit more mature than in my memories. His slightly unkempt hair swayed, small scars dotted his face.
- Ah, would she like this?
The scar on his forearm stretched long. His clothes were far more worn than when he'd left, bearing the marks of his ordeals. The scabbard at his waist was thoroughly battered from heavy use.
- Seeing this should lift her spirits a bit, right?
And. He was so handsome. Picking an item and grinning like that—he was incredibly handsome.
"He's handsome…."
"He was quite the looker. Rugged from all the hardship, but still."
The two of us nodded along as we watched the passing scenery, murmuring as much while gazing at Ain's profile. I hadn't even asked for their opinion, but they whispered among themselves.
So I said quietly,
"Don't covet him. He's mine."
Everything else might not matter much to me.
"I-I don't particularly want to d-die…."
"I-I'm already a mom with three kids…."
But Ain was definitely mine. I'd never yield him to anyone.
Thinking that, I watched the unfolding illusory landscape for a long while.
Before I knew it, my face had flushed red, my lips curved into a beaming smile. My heart pounded fiercely, and ticklish emotions bubbled up, making my hands and feet fidget.
Traces. They linger thicker than expected. Covered and recovered by other traces, new footprints, the stories of countless adventurers, fading bit by bit.
But his story, from nearly three years of staying here, remained faintly yet distinctly, never fully vanishing.