The Archmage's Hut (1)
Mmm...
The sleeping arrangement was uncomfortable. I had thought I’d grown used to sleeping in a sleeping bag, yet this was more than mere hardness or lumps. It felt as if...
Huh? Is it... shaking...?
I had clearly used my elven blade to clear the underbrush where I laid the sleeping bag. It was neither a hammock nor placed directly on the road. Barring an earthquake, there was no reason for it to shake.
Even an earthquake would not feel like this—rhythmic, accompanied by the steady clip-clop of hooves, shaking at regular intervals for long stretches of time.
I tried to wriggle, but my body barely responded. The situation became clear at once. Someone, or something, had bound the outside of the sleeping bag with rope or something similar.
Even so, I could still feel the warm crown of the girl’s head nestled tightly against my chest. That was a relief. As long as I was not separated from my precious Pirel, that alone was enough.
Restraints like these I could escape anytime I wished.
Pirel still seemed to be asleep; she made no sound. I quietly called to her.
“Hnngh... Mmph?!”
Haah. Not this again.
My mouth was gagged. And I had not even noticed. I really was hopeless. Had I been silenced so often that the sensation now felt natural? I should never grow accustomed to such things.
Whoever had bound us so thoroughly inside the sleeping bag had taken the trouble to add gags as well—carefully, so as not to wake us. Perhaps they calculated that an open wizard’s mouth would be troublesome, or simply wished to prevent loud screaming.
The gaps in the sleeping bag appeared to have been padded and sealed, making it impossible to tell whether it was day or night.
I worried what Pirel must look like. I prayed she had not been treated too harshly. To check, I moved my hand to cast a simple light spell. Such minor magic should have been possible without preparation or incantation...
Or so it should have been.
Not a single thread of light rose from my fingertips. My eyes were not covered. In that case...
Only then did I register the sensation: smooth, silk-like fabric meticulously wrapped around every finger. Cool, yet strangely resonant, an uncanny touch. I had not felt it often, but I could never forget it. This, above all, I could never forget.
The darkest of memories surged back vividly. I felt the old wound in my heart tear open once more and let out a thin groan.
“Nngh...”
It was the magic-sealing cloth Zophy had used when she kidnapped me—the one that suppressed all supernatural abilities, including magic.
But... how...?
Zophy had boasted that it was a priceless fabric only the greatest archmages could weave, thread by painstaking thread. There was no conceivable way that common bandits who preyed on sleeping girls by the roadside would possess such an artifact.
“Mmm...”
At that moment, perhaps finding the tight binding and constant swaying uncomfortable, Pirel squirmed and made a small sound. Because we had been bound in an embrace, I felt every tiny movement she made.
“Hahih... Haa...? Hng?!”
It seemed Pirel had woken as well. She must have tried to call my name the instant she regained consciousness. And of course, she would have realized immediately that she was bound tightly with a gag in her mouth.
Pirel began to struggle. The memory of being tied up in that forest must have returned, frightening her; she was already on the verge of tears. I hugged her tighter to soothe her.
“Huup... Mmph...”
Unable to speak, I could do nothing but hold her.
How long had we swayed atop that horse while I embraced the trembling Pirel? The sound of hooves suddenly stopped, and the swaying ceased with it. From outside came a grunt. The tone belonged to a woman—and only one.
If the kidnapper was female, seducing her with my body to beg for Pirel’s release would not work. Moreover, a bandit in possession of a magic seal?
I kept holding Pirel to reassure her, but fear gripped me just as tightly. The sound of something being untied reached us, my body loosened slightly, and sunlight poured across my long-taut eyes.
“Nngh...!”
We both groaned and squirmed at the sudden blinding glare.
“Oh my, were you both already awake?”
It was the voice of a mature woman. Since it came from behind me, I could not see her face, but the timbre suggested someone in her late twenties or early thirties. A strong odor of potent chemicals, perfume, and medicinal herbs clung to her.
In the newly admitted light, I examined Pirel’s body. The ropes had not only secured the outside of the sleeping bag; they ran through the inside as well, binding the two of us together like a wrapped package.
My arms and Pirel’s arms, my legs and Pirel’s legs, were tightly entangled and lashed by the same cords.
“Mmph...”
A frightened sound leaked from near Pirel’s mouth.
When I looked down at her—face buried against my chest—I saw that the girl’s eyes were wide with terror, pupils darting about. She was tracking the woman’s face.
“I sensed a suspicious mana circulation at the edge of my territory and came to investigate... Only to find a pair of wizard intruders.”
The woman clicked her tongue.
“You don’t seem to have known this was my domain. You should thank me. Two girls sleeping so defenselessly in the open? You’d have been easy prey for scary old men who might do terrible things after spotting you on the road.”
Whether she was teasing or scolding, her words unsettled me enough to let out another muffled groan.
“Mmph...”
Grunting with effort, the woman lifted us and laid us down somewhere before finally stripping the sleeping bag away completely. At last I could see her face, but...
“Hello. Nice to meet you. I saw two girls sleeping in such a wretched place and simply couldn’t resist inviting you home.”
If tying us up, slinging us over a horse’s hindquarters, and hauling us like baggage could be called an invitation, then an invitation it was.
“Now that I see you in proper light, the resemblance is clear. Sisters, are you? The little wizard must be the elder...”
As she spoke, she pulled the cloth that had been stuffed down my throat free.
“Pwah...”
“Hello.”
A woman so pale she looked nearly bloodless smiled down at us with a sly, knowing curve of her lips.
She did not resemble a warrior or adventurer who met violence head-on, but the bandages wrapped thickly around her neck suggested she had suffered a grave injury. The medicinal and herbal scent I had noticed earlier grew heavier, implying ointment beneath the wrappings.
A robe draped her slender shoulders. Beneath it, the swell of her breasts was quite generous.
I glared at her without answering. That was all I could manage. I could not curse or threaten. The woman before me was clearly a wizard—one who knew exactly how to capture other wizards. Freeing my mouth did not mean I could counter with a silent spell that omitted gestures; she would see through it instantly.
Our lives, therefore, remained entirely in her hands.
“Oh my, such a lovely face, yet wearing such a frightening expression. Those blood-red eyes make it even more intimidating. Still...”
The woman sniffed the air.
“You smell strangely pleasant. Like... yes. Like dough tossed into ashes. It reminds me of long ago. And...”
The bandaged hand gently stroked my hair. It was so cold I flinched.
“How cute. Fresh out of the academy, little one?”
Then, as if regaining her composure, she withdrew her hand and cleared her throat.
“Ah, where are my manners. Nice to meet you. I am the wizard Viran. I was once court mage and advisor to Count Waldenheim... Well, I’ve done all sorts of things before that, but you may know me as such for now. And you are?”
“Eh... You’re...?”
I asked stupidly.
“Yes. Is there a problem? Perhaps you know the Count of Waldenheim?”
“...I’m Karin. Thank you for the invitation.”
Unwilling to reveal any connection to the count’s lands, I quickly cut her off and gave the fake name that had become bitterly familiar.
There was no reason to introduce myself properly. She did not seem overtly hostile, yet she had bound and forcibly abducted us.
“I see. Nice to meet you, Karin... Hmm... Karin, you say.”
Viran’s hand, which had been reaching for Pirel’s gag, stopped. She stared at my face, eyes narrowing in thought.
“You see, this may not be the best moment to mention it, but I am no longer the count’s advisor.”
“Pardon...?”
I tilted my head, ears pricked to hear whatever this woman was suddenly talking about.
“When I first arrived in the count’s territory, he asked if I could take over the tool shop run by my predecessor. The shop was a disaster. It stocked nothing but farming implements and kitchen utensils, and the enchantments on them peeled away within a month.”
...She was talking about my shop. I had no idea why she was suddenly airing these grievances.
“The youngest princess of Mittenburg—no, she is a duchess now. At any rate, because of my connection to her, I accepted her earnest request, but it was too much. Still, the count wished the magic tool shop to remain open, so I had no choice. I renovated it in my own style.”
“I see...”
“Yet the customers who visited cared less for the magic tools than for asking me to repair things. There is no such magic, you understand. But they claimed the previous wizard had done exactly that... I wondered whether the person who quit wizardry had become a blacksmith instead.”
The more she unraveled the tale, the more suspicious it became. There was no reason for her to tell me any of this.
“Then I heard you even repaired the count’s son’s music box. That was when I realized—this was great magic that manipulates time. I felt discouraged. As you can see, I have lived a very long time. Long enough to have seen the face of the emperor before last.”
My body began to tremble. Hers did too.
“As you can see, I am an archmage who developed great magic capable of extending lifespan beyond a hundred years. In all that time I have adventured, acted as a hero, and wandered the world solving magical problems, yet I only ever conceptualized the great magic of turning back time—I never actually cast it. I was curious how a novice who could not even reinforce a farming tool could wield such power.”
Viran gave a light sigh.
“Well, I tried to implement the magic I had only planned to imitate, but it consumed far too much mana and carried too great a risk, so I never used it. And so, as you might expect, the people’s trust waned and the count’s gaze grew cold.”
A hand wrapped in bandages, cold enough to raise gooseflesh, gently stroked the crown of my head. She continued.
“Then I heard about the bizarre incident at the Mittenburg mansion. I also read the letter sent to me by its only survivor, Duchess Sophie von Mittenburg, though she was not in her right mind. After reading it... I realized I could no longer run a magic tool shop.”
Viran kept stroking my bound face. Her hand was icy, like the touch of a corpse.
“So I resigned my post as advisor and vanished. No matter how long I have lived as an archmage, damaging the honor of both Waldenheim, who employed me, and Mittenburg, who introduced me, means I would not be welcomed back into the world... But there was no other choice, was there?”
The cold hand withdrew once more. The suspicious wizard, still reeking of strong chemicals, was smiling.
“When there exists a genius who can inherently manipulate the threads of time—someone who deviates so extremely from the laws of the world—someone like me would never catch up even after hundreds of years. Isn’t that right, Lady Kaira? The witch and murderer who gave the transparently fake name Karin?”
“...How long have you known?”
Viran smiled sweetly.
“When I had you tied up, I saw your face in the dim light and suspected. That’s why I wrapped your hands as well. That cloth—I created it and gave it to Duchess Mittenburg. Well, I only became certain just now.”
Faced with an opponent who held absolute superiority and had prepared perfectly from the beginning, there was only one thing I could do.
Beg.
“Please. Let Pirel go.”
From within my arms came urgent muffled sounds—up, up. A protest at my sudden submissiveness, perhaps.
“Oh my, do you still believe you’re in any position to bargain or plead? When both of you are my guests?”
To this person, the word “guest” apparently carried the same meaning as “captive.”
“Still, it is strange. In Duchess Mittenburg’s letter there was mention of dealing with the cute wizard Kaira’s parents, but no mention of a sister. Given Sophie’s personality, she would have erased the entire household. Oh...”
Viran clapped her hands together, as if she had realized something extraordinary. She possessed the cunning intellect one would expect of a wizard.
“Aha.”
“Yes. So that’s why you begged with a trembling voice to spare your ‘sister.’ Isn’t that right, Lady Kaira? That child is not your sister at all. She has simply been rejuvenated by turning back time. She must be precious beyond words. She is the mother who bore you in pain, after all. How about it? I’m quick-witted, aren’t I? Yes. As you can see, I am a wise archmage.”
All strength drained from my body. I had no more cards to play, no secrets left to hide. The will to resist, the spirit to fight—everything slipped away helplessly.
Noticing how tightly Pirel and I clung to each other—tight enough to hurt—while still trembling with uncontrollable fear, Viran’s voice softened a fraction.
“Oh dear, how frightened you are. You poor things. I am not planning anything terrible. I have no intention of tormenting you. It is simply...”
She grasped the nape of my neck and spoke quietly. It was not a request. It was a command.
“I wish you to cooperate with an experiment to locate the source of your power.”
Viran’s cold, scent-laden hand left me and stroked Pirel’s cheek. I felt the tears that slipped from Pirel’s eyes soaking into the dress at my chest.
“Naturally, your precious mother will serve as the hostage.”
There was no other way.
“I understand...”
Before the kidnapper who had utterly overwhelmed me, the only thing left was to beg.
“So please, please don’t hurt Pirel... Mmph?!”
Viran gave me no time to finish. She pressed a cloth that smelled of something strange over my nose, and consciousness rapidly slipped away.