Sherpa (1)
A flicker of doubt crossed Lawrence’s eyes.
A bad premonition settled over him.
Why were the northern tribes worshiping this statue?
David, the deacon from Anatacio Monastery, had said, “I’ve heard rumors that there are even cultists who serve an evil god.”
Maybe he had been too quick to make assumptions.
He had vaguely taken it for granted that the north, too, would believe in the spirits.
For Lawrence, who wandered the Spirit World in his dreams, spirits were not unfamiliar beings.
In some ways, they felt more familiar than the goddess herself.
They were the first door through which he had stepped toward miracles.
After all, he had never even heard a revelation before.
He had only read the scriptures recording the goddess’s words.
Spirits, on the other hand, were different.
There was no need to debate belief at all.
With the Five Cognitive Concepts, Lawrence could see and touch spirits directly. More than that, he could even converse with them.
They stood plainly before his eyes.
There was no reason not to believe.
That was why the rumors had not troubled him much in the first place….
Even so, no amount of thinking gave him an answer.
Lawrence steadied himself and asked, “Lord Skarma? You mean he isn’t a spirit?”
“……”
The seer did not answer.
He only stood there, silently regarding his guest.
In the hush, Lawrence realized his mistake.
The seer had told him to show reverence.
At least to these people, Skarma was the same sort of being as the goddess.
If that was the case, he should not have asked such a brazen question.
“I’m sorry. I was thoughtless. Could you tell me what it means to pay respects to Lord Skarma?”
Carefully, Lawrence lowered his head.
Still, no voice came in reply.
He waited with patience, and at last the seer spoke.
“Traveler of the stars. You need not seek your answer outside. The lake of the starry sky already lies within your heart.”
His tone was tranquil.
Neither reproach nor anger touched it.
If not for the blindfold, Lawrence might have seen eyes filled with calm light.
Perhaps it was because the seer looked like a sage?
Lawrence felt his own mind ease as well.
There was no need to rush.
Think it through calmly. Carefully.
There had to be an answer hidden in the seer’s riddle-like words.
As Lawrence fell into thought, something rose in his mind.
A prayer.
The one Neil had offered before setting out to gather herbs, after first presenting his offering.
The prayer the villagers of Frang Village had cast into the sea during the festival.
Could showing reverence mean that kind of prayer—the prayer that carried a sense of devotion?
He wasn’t sure.
In the first place, both of those acts had been prayers offered to spirits.
They were different from the Skarma the seer had spoken of.
Unless, of course, there happened to be a spirit that looked like this.
“……”
He did not deliberate for long.
Better to do something and regret it than do nothing at all.
Slowly, Lawrence pressed his forehead to the ground.
With his body bowed, he turned both hands upward toward the sky.
After a moment, he sensed the seer approaching.
“In humble plea, I call upon the great name of Skarma. O purifying waters, please bestow your blessing upon the traveler of the stars.”
He heard the sound of a vessel being tilted.
A thin stream of water fell over his head.
“This is a rite that blesses you on your long road ahead. No calamity shall lightly approach your body.”
The water trickled down and dampened his hair.
“Traveler of the stars. May Lord Skarma guide your path.”
When he felt the flow stop, Lawrence lifted his head.
The seer brought out a bowl with a bluish sheen to it.
By the time the vessel had been half-filled with water from the kettle, he stopped.
Then he held the bowl out toward Lawrence.
Lawrence knew perfectly well what that meant.
He rose and looked down into the water-filled bowl.
At first, he saw nothing.
The only thing in the bowl was the pale blue water itself.
Which was natural.
He had poured water into an empty bowl.
It made no sense for anything else to appear.
Then, all at once, the water in the bowl began to whirl.
“……”
At the impossible sight, Lawrence could not look away.
The water in the bowl was neither a river nor a sea.
Since it was not flowing water, there should have been no ripples.
And a whirlpool? That was even more absurd.
Yet reality before his eyes did not change.
Within the spinning water, a scene emerged.
A massive structure without end in sight.
The barrier rising high above the mountain range cast a shadow like a bank of clouds.
Could this be the rumored Saint Wall?
The reason he could not be certain was simple.
He had never seen Saint Wall with his own eyes.
Lawrence stared deeper into the bowl.
One way or another, it was a place he had never seen before.
He wanted to gather as much information as possible from the surrounding landscape.
Unlike the short trees he had often seen in the north, enormous conifer forests had formed around the wall.
The usual green of leaves was almost nowhere to be seen.
Snow drifted without pause, settling over the trees.
Beyond that, there were no noticeable structures or unusual features of the terrain.
But that was all the bowl could reveal.
The whirlpool soon fell still.
Now nothing reflected on the bowl’s surface at all.
Only clear, blue-tinted water remained.
Lawrence looked up.
He could feel the seer’s gaze through the blindfold.
The silence was so complete it almost seemed to have substance.
His thoughts settled into sharp focus.
“Seer. I’d like you to introduce me to a Sherpa who can guide me to the wall.”
“Traveler of the stars. Lord Skarma is watching over you. Our people will gladly aid your path.”
The seer draped a white cloth around Lawrence’s neck.
It was nothing like a warm scarf.
The thin, fluttering fabric looked more like something a woman would wear.
“May Lord Skarma light your path.”
The seer joined his hands.
Then, lowering himself until his elbows and knees touched the floor and his forehead met the ground as well, he bowed in full prostration.
Hands joined toward the heavens, body folded in perfect humility.
Lawrence realized that this must have been the reverence the seer had spoken of.
He, too, lowered his head with his hands clasped together.
Repay courtesy with courtesy.
He had not learned that from anyone.
It was a truth Lawrence had discovered for himself while traveling the world alone.
* * *
Lawrence paid Ralph the reward he had promised.
After checking the gold coins, Ralph wore a satisfied expression.
“If the road back gives you trouble, give me a call.”
“Will you come back by dog sled?”
“If need be.”
At that dependable answer, Lawrence’s lips curved upward.
Ralph returned to Winterglen by dog sled.
“You can stay here. If you need anything, feel free to use it.”
“Thank you.”
Lawrence was shown to his lodging by the child.
The house, into which the cold wind would not dare intrude, was warm.
Blue cloth, similar in color to banners, hung throughout the room.
Neatly arranged dishes sat on the shelf.
In one corner, there were skeins of thread and piles of clothing.
Unlike the way they looked from the outside, the traditional homes of the northern tribes brought to mind cozy family houses.
Lawrence unpacked his things by the bedding.
Should he take this as a welcome, then?
He had heard that the northern tribes were hostile to outsiders.
And yet, under the guidance of the stars, the seer had welcomed Lawrence.
Traveler of the stars.
Even if he did not know exactly what the words meant,
no one could deny that the reception had been gracious.
There was no need to resolve every question at once.
Lawrence found a tub that looked as though it was meant for washing clothes.
It was not large enough for him to sit in fully,
but it seemed big enough for a half-bath without difficulty.
“Water.”
After filling the tub with water, he heated a stone with Fire and dropped it in.
Then a thought struck him.
What would happen if he used Warm magic on the water inside the tub?
His clothes and armor had retained warmth for the duration of the spell. Could water do the same, and hold a set temperature?
Lawrence stared at the water for a while, then raised his hand.
“Warm.”
He felt the spell activate.
Cautiously, he put his hand into the water.
To his surprise, the water inside the tub was pleasantly lukewarm.
Not hot enough to soak his body in, perhaps.
Still, it was warm enough to endure and wash with.
Considering the season, when one had to bathe in cold water, it was more than enough.
Warm magic cast on water.
The water in the tub, with the stone heated by Fire inside it, soon grew hot.
When white steam began to rise, Lawrence stripped off his clothes and stepped in.
“Hah.”
A satisfied breath escaped him as the weariness began to melt away.
He could not remember the last time he had soaked in warm water.
Since leaving Winterglen, sleeping rough had become routine.
He could wash with warm water, yes,
but there had never been time to let his body truly unwind.
He did not know how much he had suffered from the smell of blankets on the dog sled.
Once he had finished washing and stepped out, Lawrence opened his magic book.
It was the Cold spell, the one he had pushed down his priority list because of the frigid weather.
Lately, he had been traveling by dog sled and had not been able to look at the book even once.
As if making up for lost time, he focused on it intensely.
How long had passed?
He should have gone so long without seeing the book at all, and yet
for some reason, the contents seemed to flow straight into his head.
It was a different feeling from when he had learned Warm.
How should he put it?
He understood in an instant what the magic book was trying to say.
It was a sensation close to the way the neighbors in the Spirit World used magic.
“Cold.”
The water in the cup had cooled.
Lawrence stared at it in a daze.
In only a few hours,
he had succeeded in learning Cold magic.
It was no accident.
Just to be sure, he tried Cold on other objects as well.
It activated without issue, just like Warm.
More than that, it consumed less mana than Warm did.
Given that the two were spells of the same general type, maybe its duration was longer too?
Lawrence rested his chin on his hand.
Why was that?
Magic was influenced by environment.
The north was so cold that even wrapped head to toe in clothes, one still felt the chill.
For someone weak to the cold like Lawrence, using Warm was practically mandatory.
Maybe that was why Cold was so much easier to use than Warm.
No, that might be true in terms of efficiency.
But did environment have anything to do with learning magic?
When he thought about it, he had succeeded in learning Water in Frang Village, right beside the sea.
Back then, he had thought imagination played the larger role.
But now it seemed environment had been just as closely tied to it.
Or perhaps his experience in the north had helped him.
The northern landscapes he had seen while riding the dog sled were so vivid that he could summon them even with his eyes closed.
It was different from the dark, chilly feeling he had sensed while wandering the back alleys.
However harsh the cold, life still bloomed in such a place.
People adapted to the trials laid down by nature.
Animals searched for ways to survive even in the bitterest freeze.
Veles’s teaching came back to him.
“Paint over the laws of the world. And lead the laws of the world by our will. To know magic is to know the world. See more. Experience more. That will lead you to the laws of the world.”
It seemed that was exactly what he had meant.
Everything Lawrence had learned by traveling the world had been a road leading toward magic.
Knock, knock.
He heard a knock at the door.
“Who is it?”
“Ah, good, you’re awake.”
A man stood outside.
At most, he looked to be in his mid-twenties.
He was slender, with an easy smile that left a strong impression.
“I’m Pete, the Sherpa assigned to guide you. Good to meet you, Traveler of the Stars.”
“I’m Lawrence. I’m a mage.”
So this was the Sherpa he had only heard about.
He had never imagined he’d be so young.
“Let me see. We’re about the same age, I’d say, so there’s no need to be stiff. Just speak comfortably.”
“In that case, I won’t refuse.”
He spoke comfortably, but he did not switch to rough speech.
No matter what, one should at least keep proper manners.
Lawrence was not here as a mercenary.
He was here as a guest, nothing more.
“That’s good to hear.”
The young man promptly held out a hand.
The one Lawrence clasped was covered in scars and calluses.
Looking closely, it would be faster to find the places that were still intact than the ones that weren’t.
There were fingers missing where they should have been.
More precisely, the fingertips had been cut off, leaving them blunt.
“You’ve got plenty of confidence if you came all the way out here. Yeah, that’s how a young man should be. Or is that because you’re a mage?”
“So you’ve seen mages before, then.”
“Something like one.”
He pointed uphill with a hand lacking a thumb.
So that was where the seer lived.
“I won’t ask why you’re going to the wall. If you’ve come this far, risking your life to get here, then you must have a reason. Isn’t that right?”
He did not seem to expect an answer.
As if satisfying himself, he continued.
“You have to climb the Gangama Mountains to reach the wall. If it were just me, we could set off today, right away. But preparing your gear will take some time.”
“I’ve already accounted for that. Roughly how many days will it take?”
“Hmm. Two?”
“That doesn’t take very long.”
It had taken Ralph a full week just to prepare the dog sled.
Two days was practically the same as leaving immediately.
“So until the preparations are done, make yourself comfortable. We’re not climbing a mountain yet. This time of year, the villagers can relax a bit too. It’ll be a few months before we head back into the mountains anyway. Well, it’s not like you’ll still be here by then.”
For some reason, Pete found that hilarious and slapped his thigh as he laughed.