The Face She Chose
Chris pinched the man's cheek.
"Handsome enough that if I ground you up, I'd get a pretty batch of Motaro. They say the best-looking rice cake tastes the best—maybe the prettier you are, the better it works. I'm suddenly in the mood to experiment."
"Please spare me."
"Pretty Boy, I'm not that bad a person."
"Yes, yes, yes. I know."
"Pretty Boy, show me the way."
"To where...?"
"Elder Richard's residence."
"I don't know where it is."
"And why don't you?"
"How would a mere Sikbae mage know the residence of one of the Three Great Elders?"
Chris clicked his tongue.
"A Sikbae mage is supposed to know where the Chukhwan live. It's essential."
"Why?"
"So you can stay out of their way. Cross the wrong one and they'll suck your Klpandi dry. Didn't you know? Ah, right—word that the Chukhwan devour their own disciples only got out recently."
"Yes, yes. That's true."
"Seeing as you're still in one piece, either your talent is exceptional... or you've got a powerful backer."
"I offered magic stones."
"Ah, so that was it. The world really is unfair. Even among mages, the gap between rich and poor is what decides your fate."
The handsome man hurried to agree.
"Yes. It's unfair."
"Don't you know anyone who would?"
"Would know what?"
"Ah, pretty face, empty head. I just told you I'm looking for Richard's house."
"Ah. Right. You did."
The handsome mage was so frightened he was only half in his right mind.
"I'm not going to eat you. Relax."
"Yes. Thank you."
"So who am I supposed to go to?"
"Yes? For what?"
"Are you messing with me?"
"Ah, no. No. Vilpua and Randal know where Elder Richard's house is."
"Who's Vilpua?"
"Elder Richard's head disciple."
"Bring him."
"Yes? Me?"
"I can hardly go hunting for him myself."
"I heard Vilpua is out."
"Then bring Randal."
Meeting the evil spirit Tenbo while he was at it didn't sound like a bad idea.
"The two of them left together."
"Hey! Is that head just for decoration? If you want a guide, you pick someone who's actually here!"
The shout made the man flinch, shoulders hunching.
"The third most precious thing in the world is a handsome man."
"Yes?"
"Wander the world long enough and you learn just how rare a good-looking man really is. That's why I was inclined to go easy on you. Keep this up, though, and we're going to have a problem. Annoy me enough and I might just toss you in a pot."
The handsome mage was dying to know what ranked first and second, but he didn't dare ask. He racked his brain in desperation.
"Alex! Alex knows."
"Alex?"
"Vilpua's disciple. He's at the Jenyeom stage."
Chris sneered inwardly. Back in his Lion Pavilion days he'd strutted around because he sensed mana first, and he's still only Jenyeom. Between a Jenyeom mage and a Two-Ring mage yawns a distance you could fall into and never hit the bottom.
"Fine. Bring him."
The handsome man drew out his identity token, muttered over it, checked something, then formed a voice-transmission slip and sent it winging off.
"Pretty Boy, waiting around here is a bit much. No cafe nearby?"
"Not in the area."
"Why not?"
"Sikbae mages don't enjoy meals. Surely you know that."
"And why would I have to?"
"I was told that once your realm is high enough, you can live on mana alone. I learned that from Sikbae onward you should gradually give up eating, if you want to raise your realm smoothly... Is that wrong?"
The Tower had concealed the fact that Chukhwan mages ate the Klpandi of Sikbae mages in order to bind their rings. The handsome man suspected the lessons about food might have been deliberately twisted in the same way.
"No idea."
He took Chris's reaction as confirmation.
"So this is another false teaching."
"I never learned magic in any systematic way, so there are holes in what I know, but..."
Mages who had reached a certain realm often lived on pills instead of meals. The claim was probably true.
"It probably isn't false."
Chris meant it, but the words had the opposite effect, and the handsome man's conviction only sank deeper. They're deliberately keeping us from eating, so our Klpandi will be easier to consume. He studied Chris with open suspicion.
"Then why are you looking for a cafe?"
"Because I enjoy eating."
"Why...?"
"I starved so badly as a child that food became an obsession."
"Shall I escort you to the VIP Guest Pavilion?"
The name stirred old memories. He had met the kingdom's knights there, the ones who came to investigate the prince's murder, and eaten cake for the first time in his life. The thought of it made his mouth water.
"That place is a bit much. Anywhere else?"
"There are several cafes in Clock Tower Square, behind the Training Wing, but..."
"Good. Let's go."
"That place is a little..."
"Pretty Boy, is there a problem?"
"It's crawling with nobodies so far beneath us they might as well be dust. Not somewhere a Chukhwan mage should set foot."
"Pretty Boy, that only makes me more interested."
"I called Alex here, though."
"Send another voice-transmission slip. Tell him to come to a cafe in Clock Tower Square."
He obeyed, and the two of them flew to Clock Tower Square. The handsome man gestured at the row of cafes.
"Which one?"
Chris chose the cafe where he used to sit and talk with Alice and Catherine. The moment his feet touched the ground, nostalgia washed over him. He missed the two of them terribly.
A Sikbae mage walked in, and the cafe went dead silent. These days the Tower's Sikbae were the eye of the storm. Those who had managed to avoid being turned into Motaro had fled in fear, and a Sikbae mage had become a rare sight.
Chris took a seat by the window. The handsome man didn't dare sit; he stood at attention beside him.
"Pretty Boy, don't stand there making everyone uncomfortable. Sit."
"Yes."
Chris called over the thoroughly cowed server and ordered ice cream and four slices of cake. The handsome man said he wouldn't eat.
"Suit yourself, Pretty Boy."
"My name is Wilbur."
"Don't like being called Pretty Boy?"
"It isn't that."
"Sounds like it is. Fine. I'll call you Wilbur."
"Thank you."
"I know a mage with a name a lot like yours."
"What name?"
"Wilmer."
"Was he a remarkable mage?"
"About your level, I'd say."
"I'd like to meet him sometime."
"You can't."
"Why not?"
"He's dead."
"How...?"
"I killed him."
Wilbur's face went stiff. He swallowed.
"Why did you kill him?"
"He coveted something I'd won at auction."
"Then he had it coming."
The frozen air broke when the server appeared, set down the ice cream and the four cakes, and vanished at once.
Chris lifted a spoon and worked through the ice cream, then the cakes in order: cheese, strawberry, fresh cream, chocolate. Nothing but sweets left him craving salt, so he called the server back and ordered a sandwich packed with ham. While he waited, the door opened and Alice walked in. He was so glad to see her that he nearly called her name.
Catherine isn't with her.
Where Alice's closest friend should have been stood a woman whose face was a map of scars. Blade marks crossed it lengthwise and crosswise, and a burn had nearly sealed one eye shut. And yet the figure was strangely familiar. The soft blonde hair, too, seemed like something he had seen before.
"No seats."
The moment she spoke, he knew.
It's Catherine.
The woman whose face the scars had ruined was Catherine herself.
What happened to her face?
Chris shot to his feet, a shout already in his throat, and swallowed it. Every eye in the cafe swung toward him.
"There are two empty chairs here. Sit with us."
The two women flinched at the sight of Wilbur. Chris clicked his tongue at him.
"You're making the ladies uncomfortable. What have you Sikbae mages been doing, that they're this terrified?"
Wilbur smiled at the two women. The Thought Language he sent them was anything but gentle.
Alice and Catherine approached hesitantly and sat.
"Names?"
"Alice."
"I'm Catherine."
The sandwich arrived.
"Want some?"
He offered it gently. Alice shook her head.
"We've already eaten."
"Came for tea, then."
Her appetite had died so completely she didn't even want water, but she nodded.
"Yes."
"I'll pay. Order something."
"No. We have money."
Wilbur forced the word out through his teeth.
"Drink."
"Yes."
The two ordered tea and watched the table warily. Chris indicated their robes.
"Yellow robes. So you're Jenyeom mages."
"Yes."
"When did you reach Jenyeom?"
"About seven months ago for me. My friend reached it about five years ago."
Catherine's talent is clearly higher than Alice's. Afraid of hurting her, Chris chose his next words with care.
"Your face... it could be treated."
Catherine touched her cheek.
"I'm satisfied with this face."
"Why?"
She didn't answer. Alice's lips were pressed tight, her expression furious. Wilbur spoke.
"I know the story."
Chris nodded, and Wilbur began to unfold it. Catherine hated having her life told to her face, but she couldn't stop him. The one speaking was a Sikbae mage.
"She's hideous now, but she used to be truly beautiful. A fragrant flower draws butterflies, and there was a man who wanted her and proposed. She refused. Then that creature who called himself her father came to the Tower, ignored Catherine's wishes, and forced an engagement on her. A wedding date was set, and rather than go through with it, she ruined her own face. The man who had wanted her became the laughingstock of the Tower. How deep must the hatred have run, for her to destroy a beautiful face with her own hands—every kind of rumor went around."
"What kind of rumors?"
"That she refused because he stank. That she'd agreed on the condition there would be no kissing, and he forced his mouth on her and the whole thing fell apart. That his cock was too small... things like that. Hear talk like that and of course your blood boils. The furious fiancé cursed her to live with that face for the rest of her life and made sure she could never be healed."
Fury surged up in Chris.
"And what does this fiancé do?"
"He's a Sikbae mage."
"How old?"
"Around five hundred and fifty, I'd guess."
"Fuck. A withered old carcass like that, lusting after a young girl? That bastard isn't a butterfly. He's a dung fly."
He looked at Catherine.
"Can't blame you for hating him. You did well."
Whether it comforted her or not, tears welled in her eyes.
"And your father—why'd he do it?"
Alice answered for her.
"He's a greedy man."
"So he sold his daughter."
Chris turned to Wilbur.
"That bastard's dead, then?"
"If by 'that bastard' you mean the fiancé, he's alive."
"He's Sikbae, isn't he? Wasn't he turned into Motaro?"
"No."
"How'd he slip out of it?"
"He has a powerful backer."
"Who?"
"Elder Richard."
The door opened, and Alex walked into the cafe. He frowned at Alice and Catherine, then saw Chris sitting in front of them, and his eyes went wide.
"Grain's disciple...?"
Chris waved.
"That's right. I'm Gary, Grain's disciple."
And he muttered, too low to give away, the greeting he couldn't actually offer. Long time no see. You son of a bitch.
Alex came over and bent until his forehead nearly touched the table.
"An honor. My name is Alex."
"You look like you know them."
Alex stole a glance at Catherine before he answered.
"We entered the Tower in the same cohort."
"Classmates, then."
"Yes."
"Vilpua's disciple?"
"Yes."
"And Vilpua is Richard's disciple."
"Yes."
"I heard her fiancé's backer is Richard."
"Yes."
"When a dung fly starts lusting after your own classmate, you're supposed to stop him."
"I'm sorry?"
"She hated him enough to ruin her own face, and you just stood there and watched? Never heard the saying? Love your cohort, love the Tower?"