The Fading Summer and the Elf’s Gaze
Meredith didn't immediately storm off to find the protagonist, despite her burning rage over the child exploitation she’d witnessed. She had been wearing an expression that suggested she’d pick a fight with anyone, regardless of who they were, but perhaps the fact that the culprit was an acquaintance made her hesitate. Instead of rushing over to fold the protagonist in half, she simply continued the lesson. However, she did add a special curriculum for the day: a lecture on imprints and mana nerves.
According to Meredith, the slave imprint had been embedded in such a way that it had shredded my internal mana nerves. I understood that much without any trouble. I had a lingering question—since muscles grow stronger after being torn, couldn't the same logic apply to mana nerves? But I decided to let it slide. I wasn't even sure if the people of Edenia understood the principles of muscle hypertrophy, and it would be troublesome if she asked where I’d acquired such knowledge. When in doubt, it was wiser to keep one's mouth shut. She added that because I was a beastkin, my basic mana nerves were narrower, which only amplified the pain. It had been agonizing enough to feel like I was dying, so that explanation made perfect sense. Apparently, having my mana nerves mangled like that meant that using spells would naturally be accompanied by pain. It was, in essence, a more magical version of muscle soreness.
After hearing everything, my head felt cluttered. I had instinctively understood that the source of my pain lay in the slave imprint, as the sensation was similar to what I’d felt back then. Even if I didn't want to know, I couldn't help but realize it. So, whenever the pain flared up, I’d vaguely think, "You bad protagonist, how could you have so little faith that you’d make me suffer like this?" But after listening to Meredith today...
Wasn't it precisely because of the imprint acting on my mana nerves that I was even able to dream of becoming a mage? If I’d received a standard, run-of-the-mill imprint, I would have struggled to use spells just like any other ordinary beastkin. It was a deeply profound feeling. "A blessing in disguise," as they say. It was the perfect idiom for my current situation—like the story of a man who broke his leg while riding a horse, only to find that the injury saved him from being conscripted when a war broke out.
I learned many things about the body of "Hazel" during Meredith’s lessons, one of which was that I had a knack for studying. I’d briefly wondered, "Am I smart?" while learning to read with Ameryel, but I’d dismissed it, thinking the material was relatively easy. The protagonist hadn't taken long to learn to read, either. I’d just assumed that once you could speak properly, it didn't take long to pick up the written word. But learning magic theory felt different. Even after I’d estimated that it would be a tough battle, once I sat down and slowly worked through the material, the information would perfectly settle into my brain. I hadn't felt this way since middle school. I’d been so excited that I studied even harder.
But if the protagonist hadn't decided on the content of the imprint in a fit of pique, I wouldn't have been able to become a mage, even with this magic-optimized brain. Sometimes, when I saw the protagonist, I’d get so heated about why he’d chosen such an imprint that I’d impulsively poke him a few times and run away, but now my heart felt heavy. Meredith was ranting about how this was hindering the future of a promising mage, but... well. I suspect that by spending so much time with me lately, she’d briefly forgotten that I was a beastkin. If that imprint hadn't existed in the first place, I wouldn't have even met the minimum requirements to be that "promising mage." Perhaps if it were the Meredith I’d met on that first day, she would have noticed this fact immediately. Had our friendship blinded her? I understood it. Those who possess something as a matter of course rarely understand those who do not.
As she wrapped up the lecture, Meredith’s tone shifted slightly.
I thought, "Is it going to go in that direction again?" but then she added, "Ah, don't look at me like that. Just listen. Listen and think about it."
Indeed, this was quite different from the way she’d been suggesting it before. Perhaps this was worth listening to seriously? "People say the Magic Tower is the place where the best mages gather, but the Academy is the best in a different sense. The Tower pursues the limits of the spells their school follows, but unlike the Tower, the Academy brings together various schools, sometimes creating entirely new paths. There are even those who interact with groups outside the mage community, like the temples."
Her gaze was unwavering. "So, that's what I want to say. I can't guarantee it, but you might be able to find a way to heal your mana nerves there."
That... was certainly true. "So, visit the Academy someday. If possible, while I’m still there. Connections are important, even among mages. Of course, it would be better if you just followed me there as a scholarship student right now, though."
After finishing her sentence, Meredith ruffled my hair, just as she always did. "To think you’d look at your heaven-like teacher with such suspicious eyes." She said the words, but her touch felt uncharacteristically listless. Perhaps she felt it too. The fact that summer was passing and autumn was approaching. The time for parting was drawing near.
Of course, just because my conversation with her had ended didn't mean the relationship between Meredith and the protagonist was neatly resolved. If anything, it was just the beginning. Meredith had written a letter on the spot and handed it to me, saying she wanted to invite the protagonist to a meal. She also asked me to keep it a secret from him that she’d found out I was a slave. What on earth was she planning to do...? I felt guilty, as if I’d derailed yet another of the protagonist’s romantic paths. Then again, it was hard enough to meet a man with a child, so wouldn't a man with a young slave be even more burdensome to approach? It was all the protagonist’s choice, so I decided to think of it as his own doing.
Regardless of the heart-pounding three-way meeting, I hoped to have at least one last memory with Meredith. When I parted ways with Ameryel, I’d been too flustered. If I’d had a little more peace of mind, I could have left with at least one memory. Wasn't there anyone who could recommend something like that?
The streets were bustling with people. Even though the sky still held a reddish blush, people were wandering about with women tucked under their arms, as if they had nothing to be ashamed of. A faint scent of alcohol hung in the air, and people who were already thoroughly drunk were sprawled out here and there. Yet, no one frowned; they just laughed heartily and moved on. In a fantasy world, information was usually gathered in taverns. In my case, I didn't have anyone close enough to ask, anyway.
It was a massive establishment, even looking at it again. I checked the name on the sign. Woman's Smile, that was it. Well, it wasn't like I could mistake such a huge place, but stepping into an unfamiliar place was always nerve-wracking. Especially for someone as small as me, entering a place of... entertainment. No, there had to be a better way to put it. A place to enjoy wine, women, and song.
As I stood hesitating in front of the door, I heard a voice from behind me. "Hey, what are you doing?"
"Oh, no. It's just..." I turned around, wearing the most harmless smile I could muster. A fairy was standing there. She was wearing a daring dress with a slit starting from her thigh. Her hair was neatly gathered, with a long pipe tucked into it, the end of which was decorated with a bundle of fabric lace. But what left the biggest impression was her ears. Long, pointed ears were perched high on her head. I’d seen many people coming and going in Silverion, but I’d never seen an elf with such classic pointed ears. Was her elven blood strong? I was convinced that there was a reason elves were called fairies. It made perfect sense.
"Where are your parents?"
"I came to find someone."
"Someone?"
With a groan, she rubbed the back of her neck. I must have been the most annoying type of person to deal with. "Do you know her name?"
"Flora."
"Flora?"
"Yes, I saw her on stage. If you could just tell me which shop she works at..."
"Who are you?"
"Pardon?"
"I asked, who are you?"
The woman looked down at me. She had incredibly sharp eyes. Her green pupils sparkled in the evening glow. They were beautiful eyes. Aside from that, she was a person with a sharp edge. Until a moment ago, she had been reacting as if everything in the world was boring and tiresome, but the moment I mentioned Flora’s name, her attitude changed completely. She had a charisma that commanded the atmosphere. She was also tall, which added to the sense of intimidation.
"A... colleague...?"
In the face of such pressure, the words I managed to utter were truly strange and pathetic.