Chapter 12: She Was (6)
Penrin Village had quite a lot of children.
Even in a place where making it through the day on a single meal was a struggle, at least two or three children lived in nearly every shanty in the village.
Whether it was because life was too hard and they’d given themselves over to pleasure, or because life was too hard and they wanted more hands to work, I couldn’t tell.
They must have known that having too many children wouldn’t do them any good, and yet they still built families and shared what love they could within the village.
And as the adults did, the children, too, tended to choose their sweethearts early.
My second brother, Noah, had apparently promised his future to a girl his own age named Ella.
He’d always gone out to see her, and by now it looked as if they spent whatever time they could sneaking away between chores to play at being children.
My eldest brother, Luca, had also begun spending more time with the girl next door.
Out of responsibility, out of his desire to care for us, Luca had changed too, after all the time he’d spent looking after me and my siblings.
Even Sophia had, before I knew it, started talking about the boy next door.
When the deep night came and we lay down to sleep, Sophia would smile shyly and tell me stories about him.
I would only listen, nod along at the right moments, and tell her that was nice.
Everyone was in love.
Even in this poor, shabby well, the frogs had found their mates.
In a world so narrow it could scarcely be called a world at all, they gazed up at the little scrap of sky they’d been given and nurtured their dreams there.
And I alone.
Only I moved forward, ignoring the croaking of the frogs courting beside me.
I had to see a bigger sky.
Under a wider sky, I had to find you.
I was six years old.
Spring was slowly coaxing life up from the earth, and I was passing those green little shoots on my way to my teacher’s shanty.
Then I heard a voice calling to me.
“A-Aria...!”
When I turned toward that young, noisy voice, there was, as always, a boy with a flushed face.
“...”
“I-it’s a present!”
I had no idea how many times this had happened by then.
For about a year now, some of the boys in the village had been giving me gifts.
They would hand over sweet fruit or flowers, or little scraps of meat or grain, all while blushing furiously.
I understood their feelings.
Until I’d seen a mirror, I’d had no idea what I looked like, but my teacher had once praised me for being very pretty and even taken out her own mirror to show me.
I knew that with this rather beautiful face of mine, more than one boy had fallen for me.
“W-would you take it? And maybe go out with me...?”
And yet I had never once accepted any of those feelings.
“...I don’t need it.”
As always, I only answered coldly and walked past them.
I didn’t even want to look at any man except you.
The only one who could stand beside me was you.
After passing the boy, I knocked on my teacher’s shanty door.
The door swung open, and my teacher welcomed me with a playful smile.
“My dear disciple is so pretty that her admirers never seem to run out, do they?”
She must have seen me coming from a distance, because she made that teasing remark as soon as she saw me.
“...I’m not interested.”
“Of course not. My dear disciple isn’t waiting for some prince on a white horse—she plans to go find him herself, right?”
“Stop teasing me.”
Even after my flat reply, she didn’t let up and prodded my side with a finger.
The day I’d collapsed from pain, I’d told her a little bit about everything.
Not all of it, though.
I’d told her I’d had a dream, and that I wanted to find the man I’d met in it.
I’d spoken in such vague, roundabout terms.
Even so, she seemed to have caught the gist of it.
“Still, when I look at how single-minded you are, it makes me want to tease you. How should I put it? It’s almost romantic.”
“...It’s not like that.”
There was just one thing she was wrong about.
My teacher always said my frantic struggle to meet you looked romantic.
She said it was beautiful, the way I worked so hard for the man I had met in my dreams.
She told me she hoped I’d succeed, that I’d find the love I was searching for, and she cheered me on.
But I didn’t think what I was doing was romantic.
It couldn’t be romantic, this pathetic mess of me trying to make amends only after I’d driven you to death.
It couldn’t be beautiful, either.
My hands were always covered in blisters.
My nails were broken, my cuts multiplying until my hands no longer looked like a child’s.
My face was filthy because I could never properly wash, and even I thought it looked disgusting.
I still trembled whenever I saw bright red blood, and whenever the smell of it brushed my nose, I would retch.
So.
“...My disciple.”
So I was—
“My disciple, stop.”
My thoughts, which had been running on like that, were cut off by my teacher’s voice.
All the images I’d built of you came apart, and my vision cleared.
In my eyes, I could see my teacher’s gaze reflected back at me.
She was looking at me from close by.
“My dear disciple, you think too much, and it’s going to be the death of you. Getting this serious over one teasing remark is really not good for you.”
“...”
“Rest a little, and then shall we start studying? I’ve made some tea from dried leaves. Would you like some?”
“...Yes.”
Carefully, my teacher picked me up and took out the tea leaves.
The dried petals of red hibiscus.
The fragrance spread through the shanty.
Time passed slowly, then all at once.
It passed far too slowly when I was waiting to see you.
But until someone said goodbye, it always seemed to race by.
“My disciple.”
“Yes.”
I answered her in my usual flat tone, hiding my trembling hands behind my back.
“This is the Imperial Common Tongue dictionary, and this is a basic grimoire. This book is a botanical guide to various herbs and edible plants, and this one is a handbook for camping. Ah, and I made this just in case—it’s a guide to noble life and how to deal with social circles and such.”
As she spoke, she handed me one book after another.
If she had really made all of them herself, there was something oddly funny about the rough paper paired with such elegant handwriting.
Funny, and a little sad.
“My disciple, I was going to teach you everything about magic before I left. But I don’t seem to have that much time after all.”
“...I know.”
I knew.
We had spent well over a year and a half together.
A bond that had begun in the spring of my fifth year had been dragged on by my own stubbornness and held fast all the way into the summer of my sixth.
And all because of someone who had only meant to stay for a few days.
“So after I’m gone, you can study with the books I’ve given you. I worked on them very hard during the time you weren’t with me, so don’t throw them away.”
“As if I would.”
“Ahaha, I know. I know, but I suppose I’m so sorry to leave that I keep saying strange things.”
She smiled gently.
Unlike usual, she was wearing the robe she’d had on when she first came to the village.
A travel bag was slung over her back, and her shoelaces were tied tighter than ever.
She was dressed for the road again.
And that meant this was the moment my teacher and I parted ways.
“If I have time, I’ll stop by again next time. Then I’ll see how much you’ve grown and whether you’ve studied hard, so you’d better keep at it, all right?”
“Yes.”
I lowered my head.
My eyes had turned red without meaning to.
“It’s your growing years, so make sure you eat properly.”
“...Yes.”
I wouldn’t be able to eat properly because there was never enough food, but even so, I answered that I understood.
“And you need to sleep enough.”
“Yes.”
I often lost sleep every night because I kept dreaming of your death, but even so, I answered that I understood.
“And don’t cry.”
“...”
That, I couldn’t answer even with a lie.
I had cried just yesterday.
“So that’s a question you won’t answer.”
“...”
And I was still shedding tears now.
Then she held me carefully and spoke to me in that same gentle voice.
“My disciple, we’re not parting forever. So don’t be so sad.”
I cautiously nodded in her arms.
Only after more time passed and my tears had finally stopped did my teacher wave to me one last time.
“Take care, my disciple.”
“Travel safely.”
“Hehe, yes. My disciple.”
And then.
Only then did I speak to her.
“Teacher.”
“Hmm?”
“What’s your name?”
Only now did I ask for her name.
Afraid of taking in another person, I finally did the thing I’d been putting off all this time.
“Only now are you asking for my name? Ahaha, my disciple, you really are a stubborn one.”
Still, she laughed as if delighted.
She even let out a little tearful chuckle, sounding faintly incredulous as she said, “Obriel. Obriel Hopenberg.”
“...Ah.”
She was—
Obriel Hopenberg. She’s a slightly eccentric noblewoman. She became the head of her house at a very young age, then handed the family affairs over to her retainers and spent her time traveling. Isn’t she funny?
She was Obriel Hopenberg, one of the empire’s counts.
And Obriel came close to me again, meeting my eyes.
“So, Aria, shall we make a promise?”
I looked into her eyes as she said it.
Those eyes, bright with mana, curved gently, and her elegant voice reached me.
“I’ll stop by once more on my way back after my journey ends.”
She whispered to me.
“It’ll probably take some time, but it’ll still be before you come of age. If by then you’ve been studying hard...”
She handed me hope, a lifeline once again.
“Then this teacher will take you with her.”
And then.
“What do you think?”
I nodded.
In the summer of my sixth year, that was how my connection left me once again.
Only after planting hope inside me.
My newly found connection.
It left like that.
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