Understanding the Seed
Chris lay on the bed and turned it over for a long time.
Why hasn't Alex come looking for me?
He hadn't given the man a thought before. In the cell there had been no reason to, and after his release the back of his head was still ringing from the blow Tom had landed, and the mess of his attribute evaluation had kept him too busy to think. Perhaps, somewhere he would not admit even to himself, he had simply written Alex off—an arm gone, a man of no account. They were both Gyesin, initiates who had only just touched Spirit Awakening. There was nothing to fear. Except Alex was not Gyesin.
"The bastard made Jenyeom. Jenyeom!"
Thought Formulation. Alex would not leave him alone for long. Learn what there was to learn, take what there was to take, and get out of the tower quickly.
He had one more reason to break the fifty-fifth step.
"I don't want to…… I really don't want to……."
Alex was pacing at the mouth of the cave where Richard lived. An hour later Vilpua came out, and Alex went to his side.
"Master."
The one who had poured teaching and resources into Alex until he climbed into the ranks of Jenyeom was Richard, one of the Three Great Elders of Mikklonia Tower. He had even grown the severed arm back anew. He had not, however, taken Alex as his own disciple. If an elder accepted a child still at Jenyeom, the order of rank would tangle, so he had placed him under Vilpua, a mage of Sikbae—Seed Cultivation.
"I told you to go home."
Vilpua's voice was cold.
"Master, please. I'm begging you."
"No!"
"Master, he's only Gyesin. His progress is so slow he still hasn't even had his seed judged. A halfwit. Why won't you let me deal with a defective like that?"
"You may kill a laborer. You may not kill a Gyesin. Only a Sikbae mage and above may kill one. If you want Chris dead, train hard and climb to Sikbae."
"You know better than anyone how hard it is to reach Sikbae, Master. I don't understand why you're shielding Chris."
At that moment a huge hand made of air shot out of the cave and seized him. Caught in its grip, Alex was dragged inside, and Vilpua, left behind, clicked his tongue.
"Wh—what—"
Startled, Alex flailed all four limbs and threw every spell he could muster, trying to tear himself free.
"Still a long way to go."
A cold voice struck his ears. Before he knew it he had been hauled before Richard. The great hand of air set him on the altar and burst apart like foam.
Alex dropped flat on his face.
"Alex, disciple of Vilpua, greets the Elder."
"Do you know why I supported you?"
"I was told I am the descendant of a descendant of a descendant of a descendant…… a descendant."
"Blood that thin might as well belong to a stranger. I supported you even so. I poured out resources I had been saving for Vilpua, and I poured them on you."
"I am always grateful."
"And this is what you do!"
The roar shook the cave.
"You won't think of training with everything you have. All you think about is crushing some nobody!"
"He is not a nobody. He is my enemy."
Air gathered in the empty space and became a longsword.
The blade dropped toward the crown of Alex's head. It happened so fast he never got a defensive spell off; he only threw an arm up on reflex. The sword was made of air, and it was sharper than steel. His arm came off at once.
"Aaaagh!"
The severed arm fell onto the altar, and blood jetted from the stump.
"Hhh—hhh—"
Alex clutched the cut arm and wept. The longsword unraveled and vanished into the air.
"Saving your healing magic to boil soup with later, are you?"
The cold voice snapped him out of his panic. He picked up the severed arm and pressed it to the stump, and when he chanted, light seeped from the cut and the flesh began to knit. Once it was temporarily sealed he drew a staff from his robe and set about a proper treatment. He had never trained healing magic in earnest, so the joining took a long time.
"I will not say this twice. Listen well. If Chris dies, or if he is hurt, I will judge it your doing without question, summon you, and hack your limbs to pieces. Then I will grow them back with my magic and cut them off again. And cut them off again……. I will repeat that for ten years."
Alex ground his forehead into the altar.
"I will never touch him."
His blood had pooled on the stone. When he pressed his brow into it, his face became a mask of blood.
"So you have understood at last. Go home, wash, and sleep."
"Yes."
Alex crawled down from the altar, then broke into a run and vanished. When he was gone, Richard pursed his lips and drew in a breath. The blood pooled on the altar lifted and disappeared into his mouth. He drank it down in gulps. The blood was sweet.
He failed again. Chris smiled awkwardly and drew his palm back.
Harvey smiled with his eyes.
"I'll judge your seed for you. Leave it to me."
Watching that phlegm smile with his eyes made Chris's skin crawl. He refused at once.
"I'll try harder."
"The way I see it, ordinary effort won't do. You need a drastic measure."
"No. I'll put the work in. Please trust me and wait."
The moment the words were out, he turned and bolted from the Evaluation Office.
Why would I ever trust you with my head?
He would rather die than become phlegm's experiment. All the same, he felt to the marrow that he could not go on like this.
"If the road is blocked, you go around."
If he could not walk it, he would crawl.
He asked Proctor Hailey and sought out the tavern the director of Dormitory 1 visited every day. The man was drinking from broad daylight. His arms and legs were lean, but his belly bulged round as a tadpole's.
Chris sat down beside him.
"Director Hank."
Hank lowered his cup and stared.
"We've never met. How do you know my name?"
Nearly a month had passed since Chris entered Dormitory 1, and this was the first time the two of them had met. That was the problem.
"I heard it from Hailey."
"Hailey? Sharp kid. She'll make it."
Chris glanced at the yellow belt at the man's waist. Wrinkles creased that face so deeply it was hard to imagine now, but Hank must have been young once. He would have roamed the Training Wing dreaming of success. In the end he had failed. He had stopped at Gyesin.
What did he think, watching the juniors so far ahead of him sprint toward success? Did he picture the shining futures he himself had never caught? Was that why he drank every day?
"My name is Chris. I've just moved into Dormitory 1."
"That so?"
Hank tilted his head, then slapped his knee.
"Ah, right. I did hear a new one was coming in. You here to buy me a drink?"
"I'd like to, but I don't have any money."
"Flat broke, are you?"
"Yes."
"Frayed sleeves, worn-out clothes—yeah, you're broke."
Hank lost interest in him.
"Another!"
He knocked back the hard liquor, cup after cup.
"Another!"
Chris brought up his business before the man was fully drunk.
"I'd like my belt and my pass."
"Huh. Didn't I give them to you?"
Chris stared at him as he answered.
"No."
As director, Hank did none of the work that was his to do. If Hailey had not shown him kindness, daily life would have been a great deal harder.
Hank waved a hand as if it were a nuisance.
"Go to the Wing Office and pick them up yourself."
"The Wing Office?"
"The Training Wing Office. Wing Office, for short."
"Where is the Training Wing Office?"
"North of Clock Tower Square."
Chris got down from the chair.
"Thank you."
"When you've got money, come find me here."
Chris didn't answer. He left the tavern. Even if he picked coins up off the street, he would not be buying Hank a drink.
The signs were well placed, so finding the office was not hard. Two guards stood at the entrance, but they didn't check who anyone was. They only stood there yawning. Inside, people were working at a busy clip.
Chris went to the nearest desk. A middle-aged man worn down by the world was flipping through papers.
"I've just moved into Dormitory 1. I've come to collect my belt and my pass."
At that, the man frowned.
"You're late. Why are you only showing up now?"
"Good question."
"What?"
He let out a short laugh.
"Talking like it isn't about you."
Chris looked at the yellow belt at the man's waist and smiled.
"Senior, I was waiting because I was told the director gives the belt and pass to people who move in later."
"The director does hand them out. Don't tell me the director is Hank?"
"Yes."
The man clicked his tongue.
"A famous man, I take it?"
"Famous. For the wrong reasons."
The one in charge at Lion Pavilion had been Juan. Here in Dormitory 1, it was Hank.
Chris muttered to himself.
My affinity with the people in charge is terrible.
The clerk opened a safe deeper in the office and brought out one yellow belt and one pass.
"Here. Take them."
Chris wrapped the yellow belt around his waist. Tears stung his eyes. Seeing that, the clerk of the Wing Office smiled, pleased.
"I was overwhelmed too, the first time I put a belt on."
Chris examined the pass, which shimmered with a silver light. The one he had used as an apprentice had been round. The pass newly issued to him was rectangular.
"It's quite different from an apprentice pass."
"Think of it as halfway between the identity token a mage carries and an apprentice pass. It's expensive, so don't lose it."
Chris held the new pass to his chest.
"I'll keep it safe."
"Good. I like the look of that."
"Is my identity engraved on it?"
"It is. No need to register it separately when you use it. Just use it."
"Thank you."
Chris bowed and went outside. At a quick pace he crossed the Training Wing, passed through Lion Pavilion, and went down into Stratton Village.
Buzz, who used to stand guard at the village entrance, was nowhere to be seen. A young man with a dark fuzz of mustache under his nose was on duty instead. The post must have changed while Chris was in the cell.
It's been a long time for this place, too.
He headed straight for the fountain square, flicked once at the water spilling from the mermaid, and stepped into Brian Magic Store.
When he opened the door, the bell on it rang with a bright jingle. Grandma Donna's eyes went wide at the sight of him.
"Hey! You're alive!"
"And you're still alive yourself, ma'am."
Chris came up to the counter and set his elbows on it.
"I worried a great deal about what I'd do if you'd died."
"This brat has nothing he won't say to his elders."
Donna made as if to flick his forehead, then saw his waist and her eyes bulged.
"You…… you…… you!"
Chris hooked a finger in the belt.
"Yes. I've reached Gyesin."
"Well, well. You're more impressive than you look."
Donna caught his hand.
"Here to buy mana stones?"
"Does a Gyesin buy mana stones too?"
"People use them a lot from Jenyeom on, but the wealthy use them even at Gyesin. Ordinary folk use them too, for that matter."
"Why would ordinary people?"
"Mages live a long time, don't they? There are rich folks who think it's thanks to the mana stones and go around wearing them. And there are parents who figure that if a child fiddles with one from a young age, they might become a mage, so they tuck one into the kid's bed."
"I need evaluation papers more than mana stones."
"Evaluation papers? The Evaluation Office gives those out."
"My level's too low……."
"So they wouldn't give you any. That's all right. Buy them and use them. Don't get discouraged. Shoulders back."
"Thank you."
"Which ones should I give you?"
"Let's start with water, fire, wind, and earth."
"Normally I'd have to charge forty gold, but I'll be generous and take thirty-eight."
"I heard one sheet runs about eight."
Donna flared.
"Who said a thing like that!"
"The owner of Stan General Store, right across the way."
Spit flew from Donna's mouth.
"How many times have I told you? Stan's the kind of villain who'd strip a customer down to the guts. A piece of trash."
Chris murmured as if to himself.
"I wonder if Stan even carries evaluation papers."
Donna raised her voice.
"Fine. I'll do thirty-seven. Not a coin less. I have to keep something for myself."
"All right. I'll yield. But it's on credit."
Donna smacked the top of his head with her palm.
"Have you lost your mind, you little bastard! What am I supposed to trust, to give you credit?"
Chris grumbled.
"Even so, you don't hit a customer's head."
"You deserve to be hit."
"Come on, put it on my tab."
"No."
Chris drew a necklace out from inside his clothes.
"This necklace you gave me doesn't work at all. Far from luck, it only calls down misfortune."
"What misfortune?"
"I went all the way to a cell and back. That says enough."
"I heard the talk about you too, and it's thanks to that luck necklace that it stopped there. Without the necklace you'd have been hanged. Hand it over."
"Why?"
"I'll breathe new luck into it."