The Old Man and the Girl
That was how I left the White Tower and was exiled to a cabin deep in the forest.
Following the elder who led the way, what appeared before me was a quaint log house straight out of a fairy tale book. White smoke curled lazily from the chimney, and flowerpots were clustered adorably on the windowsill.
Knock knock.
The elder rapped on the wooden door, and a cheerful voice called from inside, "Come in!"
"Zepeto? Pardon the intrusion."
As soon as he opened the door, a wave of cozy warmth spilled out. Logs crackled in the fireplace, and an old man dozed off in a rocking chair before it. On the rug in the living room lit by the hearthfire, a silver-haired girl sat hugging her knees, lost in the flames.
She looked about my age. Maybe ten or so. She was probably the one who'd said to come in.
Her silver hair shimmered in the firelight, and her bloodless white skin gave off a mystical aura. When our eyes met, she shyly raised a hand in greeting. I ignored it completely, and her hand dropped awkwardly.
The elder who had brought me shook the sleeping old man's shoulder awake.
"Zepeto. I've brought the child."
"Mm…? Has it gotten that late already?"
As the bleary-eyed old man came to, the elder placed a hand on my shoulder.
"This will be your home from today onward, child."
His voice was thick with pity, his gaze like a doctor handing off a terminally ill patient to hospice care.
Why look at me like that? I'm perfectly normal.
"Zepeto is a fine wizard. Though not affiliated with the Tower, he should be able to set right your twisted Destiny."
Destiny. There it was again. The word made something squirm in my chest.
"May you come to understand reason here and return as a proper wizard. The Tower will always await you."
He stroked my head as he added that. Fine words, but it boiled down to "you're broken right now—fix yourself and come back."
I just nodded without a word.
"Zepeto, I leave the child in your care."
"Of course. No need to worry."
The elder gave me one last encouraging look, as if his duty was done, then quietly left the cabin.
Click.
The door shut, leaving an awkward silence in the cabin. I stood there blankly, the silver-haired girl stared at the fire, and the old man rubbed his sleepy eyes.
"Heh heh, our little family has grown."
Fully awake now, the old man flashed a kind smile and headed to the kitchen. There was a clatter of dishes, and soon he returned with steaming teacups and a plate of cookies.
"There, relax now. Why stand? Come sit."
He set the cookies on the table and beckoned me. The silver-haired girl casually took one he'd offered.
It looked natural for her. I perched warily on the empty sofa, sinking into its plush softness.
"This place isn't a prison to lock you away. It's more like a shelter, a respite for someone a bit different from the others."
The old man blew on his tea and continued.
"I'll be your guardian from now on. Call me 'Grandpa Zepeto' comfortably."
I'd expected a cold isolation cell in the Tower when the nobles were caned with brooms. Rustic life in a forest cabin? An unexpected luxury.
Drawn by the fresh buttery scent tickling my nose, I reached for a cookie.
...Tasty.
The crisp, crumbling texture was divine.
"Sitting quietly feels awkward—shall we introduce ourselves?"
The old man set down his cup and looked at the silver-haired girl.
"Evel, say hello. She's the friend you'll be living with from now on."
He patted her back, and she peeked at me hesitantly. She must have been the original resident here.
The girl spoke in a timid whisper.
"I'm… Evel… Nice to meet you…."
She beamed after saying her name. Even at just ten, her beauty was striking—transparent silver hair like moonlight, skin so pale it seemed see-through. She'd break plenty of hearts someday.
But for some reason… I felt nothing.
Was it because this life was in a girl's body? No, that wasn't it. Even same-sex attraction based on looks exists. Yet I felt zilch. From the dust in the corner to the girl before me, they registered the same.
Absolute nothing. Indifferent to whatever happened to them.
This had been going on for a while. Probably around when I was confined to the annex at the estate. That's when it started wearing away, bit by bit.
"What's your name?"
She asked shyly, blushing adorably like any girl her age.
I opened my mouth.
"My name is…."
Then closed it. I couldn't remember.
Mornings at the cabin began early. Chirping mountain birds and the savory aroma tickling my nose. Opening my eyes, wooden beams with knots greeted me.
"Y-you're up?"
I shuffled into the living room, and the silver-haired girl in an apron welcomed me. She was setting fresh bread and salad on the table.
"Um… Grandpa said not to wake you… Wash up. Let's eat."
She was intimidated by me. My cold demeanor these past few days must have gotten to her.
Not my problem, honestly. I nodded silently and headed to the bathroom.
The face in the mirror was still unfamiliar. Vacant pumpkin-orange eyes. Expressionless, devoid of emotion. Jet-black bob hair gleamed in the light.
I splashed cold water on my face and sat at the table. Soon the old man brought a large pot, ladling steaming stew into our bowls.
"Cream stew with fresh forest mushrooms and potatoes. Hope it suits you."
I took a spoonful. Creamy richness and savory seasoning enveloped my tongue. Nothing like the bland, nutrient-optimized slop at the Tower.
My taste buds had been living large these past days.
"It's good."
"Heh heh, glad to hear it. Eat up and grow big and strong."
The old man smiled warmly, while the girl chewed her bread, stealing glances at me.
"Eat well now. We've got work today."
Her ears perked at his words.
"Grandpa, what today? Herb gathering?"
"No, warehouse cleanup. The magic reagents are a mess."
After breakfast, we headed to the small shed behind the cabin. Opening the door unleashed a musty smell mixed with chemicals.
"Evel, tidy the first floor junk… As for you, lass, come with me to the second-floor shelves."
Lass. That's what he called me. Since he couldn't remember my name, he'd use that for now, he said.
I suggested just picking any old name, but he refused. If I hated "lass," I should remember mine quick, he said.
Easier said than done. The girl was stuck peeking nervously. "Hey" or "you" felt too crude for her gentle soul, but mimicking his "lass" earned my glare.
So she trailed off with "Um…" or "That is…" whenever addressing me.
I followed him up the ladder to the loft. Shelves brimmed with colorful glass vials.
"Lizard tails here, mandragora sap there… Oh, careful with that blue one. Silence Spring—one drop and you're mute all day."
He hummed, checking labels and rearranging. I quietly dusted and carried, focusing on the labor.
Simple, repetitive work. Perfect for emptying the mind.
"You're a quiet one, aren't you?"
The old man suddenly spoke while wiping a bottle.
"Better than noisy."
"Not wrong. But silence can be noisier than words sometimes."
He gave me a meaningful look, then pulled a candy from his pocket.
"Candy?"
I popped it in. Sweet.
It was nearing lunchtime, work nearly done. Covered in dust, we exited the shed to find the girl waiting by the well.
"Um… good work."
She offered a damp cloth shyly. The cool water soothed the heat.
"Thanks."
She blushed and grinned at my curt reply, wagging like a puppy with an invisible tail.
"I-I found pretty flowers in the woods earlier. Wanna see?"
"No."
"Huh…?"
I brushed past her toward the cabin. Dust everywhere—needed a wash.
After a quick rinse, it was lunchtime. Savory smells wafted from the kitchen where the old man prepared the meal. In the living room, I spotted a silver head bobbing outside the window.
What's she doing?
I shook out my wet hair and approached. Despite my footsteps, she was engrossed, oblivious.
"……."
She was serious. Hands cupped, a tiny water droplet hovering between.
...Magic?
Basic low-level spell. I'd seen Tower wizards do it from afar.
"Eternal… ice…."
She murmured softly.
"Winter's biting wind… chill that steals heat…."
Trying to freeze the droplet, it seemed. But listening… it was ridiculous.
Steals heat?
My eyebrow twitched. A strange discomfort rose in my chest.
Of course, I'm no physicist. In my past life, I was just a job-hunting slacker binging science YouTubers and wiki-diving trivia. But even common sense couldn't ignore this blunder.
I couldn't help but butt in.
"Hey."
"……."
"Hey, snowball."
"……?"
She finally opened her eyes and looked at me.
"What'd you just say? Chill steals heat?"
"…Yeah?"
"Wrong. Bad premise, so it won't freeze."
I explained calmly.
"Listen. Chill isn't some energy that steals heat. That's just the result. No such thing as your 'evil chill'."
"What… are you talking about?"
She tilted her head, confused. An inexplicable irritation surged.
Calm down. She was raised on medieval nonsense. No point in thermodynamics or molecular motion—she wouldn't get it. Explain at her level, abstract but intuitive.
"Like… imagine tiny invisible fairies living in that droplet."
"F-fairies?"
"Yeah. They're dancing wildly right now, making it hot."
Her eyes widened. Good, metaphor working.
"To make ice, what do you do? Not blow cold wind."
"Then…?"
"Grab 'em so they can't dance. Chokehold 'em still."
"Ch-choke…?"
She paled. But I pressed on.
"Right. Not chill or cold. Restraint. Picture chaining those frolicking pests and locking 'em in prison."
"B-but… Grandpa says it's about accepting the Heart Image…."
What? Heart Image? Accepting? My chest throbbed at the words. Familiar yet alien unease, like the sticky dread from the Tower.
"Faith makes dinner?"
"Wh-what…?"
"No process, no proper result!"
My voice rose. I sensed the old man in the kitchen stirring, but reason was numb with frustration.
Odd. Was I always this impatient? Especially with a ten-year-old.
Felt off. Thoughts blocked by a black veil. Logic sagging like wet paper, emotions blazing.
But it passed. Watching her flounder, confusion turning to tears, the unease faded.
Her eyes spun in bewilderment at my fervent lecture, then welled up.
"Why… why yell… I was just doing as told…."
"Blind obedience means no progress! Use your head! Or just memorize!"
"I d-don't get it… no idea what you're saying!"
"Idiot!"
Slap!
"Waaah!"
That day, I slapped someone for the first time in my life.