The Egg with Pale Blue Wind Patterns
On a white background adorned with pale blue patterns evoking the flow of wind, the egg—lifted ever so carefully lest it shatter—shimmered with a crystalline aura.
"Is it really okay for me to take something this precious?"
[Isn't it better than wasting away here without a master?]
A phantom beast, granted eternal life. Though bound by the cycle of life and death like any ordinary creature, it transcended mortality through resurrection. Rare in the world, each one possessed extraordinary abilities. Its temperament leaned more toward that of a spirit than an animal, but equating it to a mere spirit would be an insult—they operated on an entirely different plane.
[The hatching depends on its master. Pour your heart into it, and it might break free in a matter of days. Neglect it, and it could spend a lifetime within the shell.]
"Just affection, then?"
[No need to fuss with temperatures or anything. If it required that much care, it wouldn't deserve the name 'phantom beast.' Even if you tossed it into lava or buried it in a glacier, the ones meant to hatch would.]
Letos tossed in a word as Maness Pictri gazed silently at the egg.
[That said, don't actually do that.]
"...I'd have to be insane."
Maness carefully nestled the egg into his inner pocket, patted it to confirm it was secure, and let out a deep breath. Hardship leads to reward, as they say. From the trek to the library to surviving the desert journey, this was far more generous than he'd dared hope.
"I'll raise it well. And put that staff to good use, of course."
[If you're grateful, that's all the giver could ask for.]
"Grand Archmage! You're still here, right?!"
Maness turned at the sound of Boltman Gail charging in with exaggerated fuss, only to furrow his brow. Somehow inspired, the boy was staggering along with a spear that towered over his own height.
"I'll go with this one!"
[The right arm of the thunder god? It does suit you in a way, but...]
"Even the Grand Archmage thinks it fits, right? As the second son of the Gail family, I need to carry a weapon like this!"
Letos fell silent, unable to muster a response to the wide-eyed young mage. It wasn't easy to drop harsh words on a distant disciple beaming with excitement. Maness knew it fell to him to step in.
"Boltman."
"Y-yeah?"
"By the time you can swing that thing, I'll be hanging out with the Magic Tower elders."
Boltman's pitiful gaze swept over the spear at the piercing truth. Their parting with this newfound companion felt abrupt.
"Guess there's no helping it..."
Maness pinched the bridge of his nose at the boy's voice thick with melancholy. He couldn't even guess how long it would take for the kid to pick something sensible. He just hoped it wouldn't be past nightfall by the time they got out.
After seeing the two students off, Letos shook off his lingering bitterness. How long had it been since he'd enjoyed such lively conversation? He'd nearly fallen over in disbelief when the brash one asked if he could just sleep in the warehouse. Of course, he wanted to say yes—the sentiment was there—but prolonged exposure to a space influenced by time magic could have dire effects on the living.
"Is it over?"
A youthful voice visited the library, well aware of his lonely nature. At the entrance to the secret passage he'd turned from stood a familiar face, greeting his old comrade with stoic dryness.
[How long has it been? You said you'd visit often—fifteen years ago, wasn't it?]
"Counting every trivial second? That was centuries ago."
Letos burst into hearty laughter at his prickly friend's response.
[So, what's the business? Surely not just to see my face.]
"You know why."
A boy with hair fading from black roots to white, calm black eyes settled deeply. Barely into his teens by appearance, he exuded an aura beyond his years. Naturally so—the draconic presence was not easily concealed.
[Shouldn't you start with how you've been?]
"Don't shove human customs on me."
[Says the one living among them. Tsk.]
With his old friend grimacing at the banter, Letos cut to the chase.
[You saw it all, so what piques your curiosity?]
"I'd hardly ask if I'd seen everything."
[The blank from the cave?]
The boy nodded quietly. A dragon wielding space magic, piercing every corner of the world—missing someone was no small matter. Even in a fabricated space.
[The student knew. No mere coincidence could explain it.]
Letos snapped his fingers, and a chair and pipe descended from the library ceiling. Settling into the comfortable seat, he drew on the unlit pipe as if savoring smoke.
"Intentional or not, it doesn't matter. What he experienced is what counts."
[The opposite of me. I wonder how he found the place.]
"Doubting the process is futile—you know that."
[Review is key to learning, ghost principal.]
Letos shrugged at the boy sharpening his glare over the nickname.
[Fits you, who never shows before students.]
"Enough chatter. First, confirm if you think the same."
Letos inhaled again, his eyes lost in smoke-recalled memories.
[You know I tested him.]
"Told him to return the staff."
[And?]
Maness had told the staff to return. Aloud. And it vanished.
"...Word Magic."
[Not full spellcasting, just a minor effect. But it amplifies words' power.]
The library's specter tapped out his pipe.
[Who'd have thought Amanewt still lived until recently? Not as a ghost like me, but as a lich.]
"What makes you sure it was her?"
[Who else could craft a space evading you, if not a dragon?]
Dragons were out—direct interference after granting magic to humans was taboo. Evading the boy's eyes sealed it.
"Incomprehensible."
The boy scanned the library. The walls' books held the world's memories, mostly penned by humans.
"She chose to endure suffering voluntarily?"
[Possible for her.]
"Amanewt was human, ultimately."
[Humans brim with infinite potential. That's why we granted them magic.]
The boy fell silent, then nodded. Possible, if human. A tale from five hundred years past.
"The mystery amplifying words' power. An enigma beyond magic, inherited..."
[No need to overthink.]
Smoke from Letos painted scenes: battlefields, taverns, newborn empires. Capturing one human's memories, it soon dispersed.
[Dragon, human, demon—whoever. No one owns or steers the world's flow.]
They had weathered time's rapids, knowing better than most: even the noblest were mere fragments in passing memories.
"Just curious."
The boy gestured into empty air. Space warped and shifted in response. Snowrobe's principal office. A cozy nook blended seamlessly into the library's heart.
[Always a marvel, that parlor trick.]
A desk and chair thudded down, followed by a moonlit window. Seated in the incongruous space, the boy closed his eyes and spoke.
"You gave him your staff. And the phantom beast."
[Problem?]
"No. But I can't read human hearts."
[Should've said when the staff came up.]
Confirming the human-disguised reptile's silence, Letos gave the answer he sought.
[As I told the young mage. Why let it rot?]
"No ordinary staff."
[Nothing ordinary in that warehouse.]
Silence again. The damned lizard clung stubbornly until satisfied.
[A staff with ego. Trustworthy enough? Fair point.]
"Why?"
[Amanewt passed on Word Magic. A mere staff's no big deal.]
"Empty words."
[Didn't you just say you can't read hearts?]
A tongue-click from the other side. Delighted, Letos laughed heartily again.
[You doubt him?]
A primal question. The boy knew its implication.
[Entered our secret space with old friends, deciphered runes, found the passage to the library.]
Absurd.
[And that's not all. Stepped into the book's world boldly, lured the earth dragon to Amanewt, claimed Word Magic—nailing the subjugation calc perfectly!]
His voice rose, echoing through the library. It was all true. The sequence was utterly impossible.
"Absurd."
[Who wouldn't invest in such promise? Fear evil intent? I trust Amanewt's judgment.]
"Desert's mistress."
A brief silence fell, mirroring Letos's sentiment.
[Truly a pity.]
His fervent tone turned somber.
[Only we and the late Amanewt know him. No one left to aid the young mage.]
"Pity?"
The boy countered. Letos, inhaling smoke, turned.
"He'll repay that faith. Best to hold such belief."
[Not like you.]
"And you're wrong. The world teems with those who spot talent."
The boy recalled Maness practicing through the night. Someone had guided him.
"Not just us, as before."
[......]
True. Without others, the continent would have drowned in despair long ago. Progress belonged to the new era, not relics.
[That said.]
Letos eyed his friend amid sentiment.
[How long will you play child?]
"As always. Human-friendly form since you lot suggested it."
[Change if you wanted.]
"Familiarity over effort."
[Hmm...]
Letos paused, then drove the wedge.
[Unique tastes.]
"...Be grateful you're the only caretaker here."
Utterly doomed.
Kicked out of sleeping in the library warehouse, they emerged into the shopping district bathed in bright sunlight. Class was imminent by the clock.
"Ugh, can't even walk..."
"Your fault for dawdling."
A burly man passed the two hustling on weary legs.
"Wait!"
The man halted abruptly, calling back to the student. The youth turning beside him radiated familiarity. White hair, sea-blue eyes. Unmet, yet drawing him in.
"What's your name?"
He doffed his hood. Maness remembered: the shopping district first visit, with classmates. Predator's eyes piercing the heart, fangs sapping will to fight. A beastman of impressive, adult-male girth. And their brief desert tie.
Exhausted to death, a smile bloomed on Maness's lips.
"Maness Pictri."
Bonds were tenacious things.