The Kite-Flying Tournament Begins
Final exams were over, and at last the academy-wide kite-flying contest that every student had been waiting for was underway. Every year around this time, the perfect kite-flying winds swept into Carrington. The sight of hundreds of kites embroidering the sky at once from the Hill of the Wind, perched near the cliffs, was nothing short of spectacular.
The prize money was prize money, of course, but for the academy students the kite contest was a kind of semester-ending ceremony, and for the citizens of Carrington, unmissable entertainment. Along with the autumn festival held when the leaves turned crimson, it was the most popular event on the academy's yearly calendar.
"Bayul, you got a scarf or anything like that?"
The friends who'd finished preparing first had gathered in Bayul and Quinn's room. Hounded by Aidan and Eli, Bayul had finally agreed to participate and made a modest shield kite out of the leftover materials. He had at least gone to the trouble of painting a spear and sword on it, trying to evoke the shield of Agos, the God of War.
"Why a scarf?"
"The wind's blowing hard up there, so it gets pretty cold. You can catch a cold even in summer."
It wasn't called the Hill of the Wind for nothing. Better safe than sorry.
"Hmm, what do I do? I don't have one right now."
"I do. Use mine."
Quinn headed for the wardrobe, happy to lend it.
"By the way, your necks are looking pretty bare too, all three of you. Did you pack one in a separate bag?"
Bayul looked his friends over, but there wasn't a spare bag in sight.
"I'm fine."
"I don't really mind the cold either."
"A mere wind couldn't snap me in two if it tried."
In other words, only the weakling Bayul needed to prepare.
"Uh, it's nice of you to worry about me, but—"
"Found it!"
Just as Bayul was about to insist he was fine, Quinn came back with a blue scarf that matched his hair and wound it snugly around his neck.
"Whoa—Quinn! I'm not cold at all right now. This is just for later—"
"Then should I tie it around your waist?"
"...Huh?"
"You might drop it if you just carry it around. I don't think two hands are going to be enough for you?"
Bayul held the shield kite in one hand and the spool in the other. Quinn was right—if he wanted to bring it without wearing it, he'd have no choice but to wrap it around his waist.
"Around my neck it is, then."
"...Mm-hmm."
Wearing it around his waist would practically be begging for attention. Satisfied with Bayul's answer, Quinn kindly tied the knot for him with his own hands.
"Anyway, what's this book? Why does the cover look so menacing?"
Just then, Aidan spotted the holy scripture sitting on Bayul's desk and grimaced. The dull black wings on it were somehow unsettling.
"Oh, that?"
Bayul's gaze flicked briefly to Eli before coming back.
"...A holy scripture I received at the temple."
"A scripture?"
"Don't tell me you got that from the Temple of Despair?"
Sure enough, the corners of Eli's eyes curved dangerously. Somehow the topic of the demon race always made him sharp-edged, and Bayul found himself shrinking back for no good reason.
"Why did they suddenly give you a scripture?"
"Well, there's this—"
"Gasp! Are they recruiting you to be a priest?"
"Don't say such ridiculous things! Bayul is the heir of House Randert. Even suggesting that to him would be a colossal insult!"
"Hey, when did I say anything? I just asked because they said his affinity is high!"
Aidan snapped back at Logan's stern rebuke, and the fedora on his head twitched for a moment—the sleeping Ingrid seemed to have been startled awake.
"It's nothing like that, so both of you, enough. Master said my affinity seems even stronger than before, and that it might help somehow, so he told me to take it and read it when I had time. That's all it was."
"Even stronger than before?"
Eli's face twisted with fury as though he had never heard anything more infuriating in his life.
'This is exactly why I didn't want to tell them...'
If his mistake was failing to hide the scripture, then so be it.
"Bayul, you're honestly incredible, you know that?"
"...?"
"Spirit User wasn't enough for you, and now you're going to command demon gods too? Is there literally anything you can't do? You're a regular jack-of-all-trades!"
"Jack-of-all-trades my foot! His odds of being threatened by demons just multiplied severalfold, and you think that's good news? Hm?"
"Ah, here he goes again. That demon-race phobia of his. Hopeless, I'm telling you."
Aidan shook his head as though the exchange wasn't worth his time, then turned and headed for the door.
"Hey! I'm talking to you! Where do you think you're going!"
"To fly kites! At this rate we'll be late!"
"Oh no! When did the time go?"
Glancing at the clock, Bayul found it really was almost time for the contest to begin. There wasn't a moment to lose.
"Bayul, did you pack everything? Nothing forgotten? Let's go!"
Even in the middle of his fit, Eli fussed tenderly over Bayul as he steeled himself.
"Five hundred koona! I will take that prize!"
As Eli marched ahead chanting it like an incantation, Quinn sighed as she followed, and Bayul did his best to stifle a laugh. Logan alone remained expressionless.
―Hee-hee, this is gonna be fun! I get to play with Ingrid again!
Innocent had lately fallen head over heels for hide-and-seek, using the floating kites as cover. Every single time they practiced out in the clearing, she'd come flying over as if she never got tired of it, and sent the group's nerves into a frenzy.
Today there would be far, far more kites in the air than ever before. Bayul worried inwardly about what kind of chaos Innocent might stir up among them.
'At least Shame is grown-up about things. Thank goodness for that.'
The Hill of the Wind was packed shoulder to shoulder with students preparing for the contest and the spectators who'd swarmed to watch them. It was the first time since his enrollment that Bayul had ever seen so many people gathered at the academy.
The faculty, including the Chairman and the Headmaster, sat in a row at the judges' platform. Seeing that, one understood all over again just how major an event the kite-flying contest was.
"Well now, so you lot entered too?"
While Bayul and his friends were checking over their kites, a familiar voice reached them. It was Professor Rothius, with his shaggy hair and stubble dusting his jaw. Having returned from the imperial palace, he was in the process of shedding all polish and reverting to his natural(?) state.
"You're competing too, Professor?"
When they spotted the kite in his hand, the students' eyes went wide.
"What are you all so shocked about? Is there some law against professors entering?"
"...And the prize money? If you place, Professor, do you collect the prize too?"
"Of course! I took third place last year! Bought premium tobacco with the winnings!"
He seemed tremendously proud of the fact, his shoulders hiked up nearly to his ears.
"Aw c'mon, isn't this way too unfair?"
"He's right. It's hard enough to beat the upperclassmen, but we can't have a professor entering as a competitor too!"
"You can't just pop up out of nowhere with zero information like this!"
"That's just low, Professor!"
At Aidan and Eli's rapid-fire complaints, Professor Rothius burst out laughing as if the whole thing were absurd.
"My, my, such grand ambitions. They do say a boy should have dreams, but really, you lot—do you honestly think that's within reach?"
"Professor, that remark just now—was that your way of looking down on us?"
"That sounded suspiciously like 'you'll never win this thing.' Am I wrong?"
This was a man who normally dispensed nothing but words of courage and hope to his students—why was he so crooked today? He wasn't carrying any tobacco. Could he be going through withdrawal?
"You two still have three more chances after today. The upperclassmen don't. And from the looks of it, you two entered because you're after the prize money—but in time, you'll understand. That the seniors fly their kites for reasons that have nothing to do with prize money at all."
"...Are there other prizes?"
"What are they?"
"That's for you to find out on your own. And one more thing."
Professor Rothius said with a teasing smile:
"In the entire history of this academy, a first-year has never once taken the championship."
"What? Seriously?"
"Participation rates are quite high, but the kites tend to snap their frames or get their lines cut in accidents. I'd wager today will be no different."
"Why would a perfectly good kite break or get cut? Isn't that just shoddy craftsmanship?"
Aidan frowned, genuinely baffled.
"Hmm. I wonder why?"
Leaving nothing but a trail of questions behind him, Professor Rothius waved and walked away. The kite Bayul had managed to sneak a glance at during their conversation looked sturdier and tougher than his own by a measure beyond comparison.
"The Professor's being extra annoying today, isn't he?"
"Why stop mid-explanation? He's usually so kind. Something's off."
The faces of Aidan and Eli darkened with foreboding as they examined their kites.
Triiill—
Before long, the tedious opening address finally drew to a close, and the curtain rose on the real contest. Spread out across the Hill of the Wind, the waiting students, buzzing with excitement, lifted their kites into the sky one by one.
"Woooooah!"
A roar went up from the spectators. Riding the wind, the kites rose smoothly into the sky. The sight of kites of every shape and color filling the blue expanse was far more moving and beautiful than Bayul had imagined. The crisp breeze sweeping across the Hill of the Wind soaked through every chest alongside the kites, leaving everyone refreshed to the bone.
"Ohhh, it's flying! It's flying!"
Aidan whooped in excitement.
"I told you mine's the coolest one up there, didn't I?"
Eli gazed up at his own kite and showered himself with praise.
The owl kite modeled on Aidan's Ingrid and Eli's, which called a red dragon to mind, looked fairly impressive even to Bayul. Logan had made a jet-black falcon the same shade as his hair, and from below, it truly looked like a falcon in flight.
'Mine's the only pathetic one.'
Granted, he'd only made it because his friends nagged him into it, but by this point it was simply embarrassing. Maybe he should have just come to watch, like Quinn.
"Aaaaah!"
"Nooo!"
Then it happened. The peacefully begun contest turned raucous in an instant as screams erupted on all sides. Just as Professor Rothius had prophesied, kite frames began snapping and lines began severing.
"Wh-what's going on?"
"I think my line got cut when it touched a senior's!"
That was precisely what kite-fighting was, but there wasn't a soul around to explain it to the rookies piece by piece.
Coating a kite line with glue and powdered glass gave it a blade-like edge. Skim it against another kite's line, wrap them together, and you could slice the opponent's clean through. A technique every second-year knew by heart—but unfortunately, they were still first-years. It was tradition, if one could call it that, for the upperclassmen to never breathe a word of it to the new students beforehand, precisely because of the unfair treatment they themselves had suffered as first-years.
"...Huh?"
As Bayul watched the severed kites drift away helplessly, something strange yet oddly familiar caught his eye.
He must have been about ten years old?
Some boy was jerking a kite line, holding back laughter behind his hand. The kite that had been sailing beautifully wobbled, tangled with the lines around it, spun in circles, and finally crashed to the ground.
Thrilled by his handiwork, the boy leapt into the air with his fist raised high. And as he shot through the dense thicket of kite lines on his outstretched legs, dozens of lines were snipped off one after another with a crackle, and he drew away from the Hill of the Wind.
Without so much as a glance at his own kite, Bayul stared at the boy as though spellbound—until, at some point, their eyes met in midair.
―...!
The boy flinched as if startled and froze in the sky.
―Tch. Busted!
Pouting his lips, arms crossed, the young boy settled into a defensive stance.
It was the debut of Bayul's third contracted spirit—the mischievous trickster Tempesta, who would one day become the Wind Spirit King.