Reunion (1)
Oscar's body froze. No—"briefly malfunctioned" would be the more fitting description.
The Vice Tower Master, watching his stiffened body and face, tilted her head.
"Oscar?"
"Y-yes?"
"Are you all right? You look a little unwell."
"No, it's nothing. But—what did you say just now?"
"The Tower Master has returned. Two days ago."
So he hadn't misheard after all.
Shasha.
The girl had come home.
Oscar swallowed the urge to bolt from the room that very instant and go to her, and asked instead,
"Might I be able to see her?"
"Of course. In fact, the only reason I suggested you stay one more day is because the Tower Master wanted to see you, Oscar. The two of you used to have long discussions about magic now and then, so it should be quite helpful for recovering your memories as well."
She wanted to see him.
This was unambiguously good news.
He had assumed he would meet Lloyd first among his disciples, but if anything, this worked out better.
If I meet Shasha first, I can ask her what happened to Lloyd and Gilli.
While he was organizing his thoughts, the Vice Tower Master spoke up.
"I have a mountain of things I'd like to ask you—how your time on Starlight Mountain went, what magic you learned—but you seem terribly worn out, so return to your room and rest for now."
"Thank you for your consideration."
Even after he returned to his room, the excitement refused to settle.
No—it only grew worse.
Whether he paced the room, sat on the sofa, or even lay down on the bed, his eyes kept drifting toward the ceiling.
Shasha is up there right now.
Shasha Meist.
Just imagining how his youngest disciple—the one he'd loved so dearly it hurt—might have grown brought a smile to his face.
That said, meeting her again wasn't purely a source of hope and joy.
There was fear in it, too.
...She might hate me. She might even despise me.
Meeting her also meant coming face to face with the truth he had spent all this time pretending not to know.
Oscar stared up at the ceiling and thought.
I'll know once I see her. Everything, once I see her.
When that moment came, he would have to reach his own conclusion as well.
Whether to reveal his identity to her—or not.
* * *
The next day.
Past the lunch hour, an announcement echoed through the tower: Shasha was looking for him and requested that he come to the Tower Master's office.
"..."
Oscar donned his white robe—pressed more crisply than it had ever been—and made his way to the very top floor of the White Tower.
He swallowed hard and knocked. Knock, knock. From within came a voice as clear as a canary's song.
"Come in."
He had heard nothing but a voice, and yet his heart felt close to bursting. Oscar took a long, deep breath and carefully opened the door with trembling hands.
The room was flooded with afternoon sunlight pouring in through the windows. At the desk sat a girl of small stature.
Shasha Meist.
As Oscar gazed upon his youngest disciple, both his eyes trembled with emotion.
...She really didn't grow much, did she.
Truthfully, he had expected as much.
She was half human, half fairy.
Her frame would always remain far smaller than a human's—but in exchange, her lifespan would be far longer.
"..."
His head knew the facts, but his heart refused to accept them.
Was it because the tower had been so poor that she'd failed to get proper nutrition during her growing years?
Had working so hard from such a young age robbed her of the sleep she needed?
A dozen worries bloomed at once—that was simply a teacher's heart.
"Ah, Oscar. Have a seat for now. I just need to finish these papers."
Shasha, knowing nothing of his thoughts, beamed brightly at him.
It was a smile that healed the heart just to look upon—a smile more potent than most potions.
"...Yes, ma'am."
Seated on the sofa, Oscar watched her in silence.
Her red eyes, scanning documents in a comfortable, worn-in outfit with something tucked in her ear, were utterly earnest.
...Magnificent. Our little Shasha.
When had she grown up enough to handle the grueling work of a Tower Master so deftly?
He was so proud of the sight that a smile kept forcing its way between the corners of his mouth despite his best efforts.
"Ah, all done."
Before long, Shasha tidied the papers away, pulled the object from her ear, and rose from her seat.
She stood a little over 150 centimeters tall by his estimation.
Taking the seat of honor across from him, she flicked her fingers and conjured tea.
"I heard the news while I was away on business. They say you had an accident bad enough to lose your memory?"
"Yes."
"If I'd been at the tower when it happened, I'd have given you a proper scolding—but that's all in the past, so I won't say any more about it."
Shasha affected a solemn, grown-up expression, and it was so adorable Oscar nearly fainted.
To keep from laughing, he bowed his head deeply.
"I'm very sorry."
"Oh—no, you don't need to look quite that miserable..."
Flustered, Shasha waved her hands and hurriedly changed the subject.
"I heard you went to see the Sage of the Stars. Did you gain anything from it?"
"Yes. Fortune favored me—I obtained quite a remarkable opportunity."
"...Hold on. Come to think of it, you're at Level 4 now, aren't you?"
Shasha's eyes went round as a deer's.
And small wonder—barely three or four months ago, Oscar had been a Level 1 mage.
His growth is... fast. Far too fast.
Given that the average Level 1 mage took roughly nine years to reach Level 4, it was an impossible pace.
To be fair, Oscar's circumstances were hardly ordinary enough to be measured by the common yardstick. His theory had long since reached the level of an intermediate mage—it was only his body's defects that had held him back.
Even accounting for that, though, it's too fast.
Setting everything else aside, what worried her was whether his mana circuits had been properly stabilized.
Three or four months was far too short a time to have finished all of that.
At last, Shasha spoke carefully.
"Oscar, if it isn't too much of an imposition, may I examine your body?"
"Of course."
When Oscar nodded readily and extended one arm, Shasha took his wrist in her hand and closed her eyes.
Moments later, they flew open in astonishment.
Wh-what is this...?
Of the four mana circuits installed in Oscar's body, three were already fully stabilized.
But that wasn't what had startled her—it was the design of the circuits themselves.
Beyond merely being functionally perfect, they were beautiful, like the work of a master artist. For an instant, she even caught herself thinking she wanted circuits like these.
"Ahem. Very good. But remember—one must approach a dragon's tail slowly. Rush, and you risk grave mistakes."
"I'll remember that."
Releasing his wrist with a slightly sheepish look, Shasha asked,
"What kind of opportunity was it, exactly?"
"I met the First Tower Master of the White Tower and learned spatial magic."
"...I'm sorry?"
How many times was she going to be astonished in a single sitting?
Wearing the expression of someone who had clearly misheard, she asked again.
"The First Tower Master of the White Tower—you don't mean... Ado Bale, do you?"
"That's right. Well, to explain exactly how it happened..."
Oscar gave a detailed account of everything that had occurred on Starlight Mountain.
Watching Shasha prick up her ears and hang on his every word stirred a flood of old memories.
Back then, too, whenever I told her anything about magic, her eyes would light up like stars.
And whenever he paused in his storytelling, she would always say the same thing.
"M-more, please. Keep going, I wanna hear more."
"..."
Oscar laughed without resistance.
Much time had passed, yet she was exactly the same as the girl he remembered.
"Hm? Why are you laughing?"
"Nothing. A nostalgic memory just came to me. Anyway, continuing the story—"
At the part where all five of his senses had been sealed away, she gasped in wonder.
At the part where he had faced fear and pain and trained for five months, her face clouded with sympathy.
At the part where he had gained his sixth sense and mastery over space, she rejoiced as if it were her own triumph.
And at the part where Ado Bale had acknowledged him as a disciple and departed, she wept great, unbidden tears.
"*Sob*... it's just so moving..."
Oscar smiled warmly.
Crybaby Shasha.
She had always been quick to tears—so much so that Gilliott, the second brother, used to tease her about it every single day.
The mood is going quite well, actually.
Oscar judged the flow of the conversation to be favorable.
Apart from having grown up, Shasha was exactly as he remembered her.
If it's this girl...
Might he be able to tell her the truth about who he was?
Just as that thought was taking root unbidden, Shasha spoke.
"But please, if you can, don't go around telling people about the spatial magic. That magic is at its most effective when no one knows it exists."
"Understood."
"Oh, and I read a report the other day... ah, here it is."
She produced a document and continued.
"I hear you're heading to the Western Front on potion business. The subjugation of a large orc tribe, is it?"
"Yes. The Red Tower put in a request for support. If this goes well, we should be able to secure regular potion deliveries to the military from here on."
"Really... it's like a dream."
Shasha smiled faintly, without strength.
Barely a few months ago—right before she'd left on her business trip—the future of the White Tower had been anything but certain.
Yet in the handful of months she'd been gone, the tower had transformed.
No—it had grown so dazzlingly that she almost wondered if it was still the same tower at all.
And that's all thanks to Oscar, isn't it.
Perhaps that was why.
Shasha looked at the mage before her, her eyes brimming with pride—ready to vouch for him on the spot if anyone asked.
"You're an intermediate mage now, and you're only going as a volunteer, so you shouldn't be in any real danger... ah, but just in case, could you tell me the name of the commander you'll be meeting? I'd like to send a letter ahead, putting in a good word for you."
Oscar's eyes gleamed once.
Now was precisely the chance to sound out her feelings—about Lloyd, about Gilli, and by extension, about himself.
"I heard the commander is Lloyd Schultz. The Mage of Ashes."
"..."
A hitch.
The hand that had been reaching for paper and pen froze mid-motion.
Was it his imagination? Even the warm afternoon sunlight that filled the room seemed to freeze over.
"I see."
A voice stiffer than it had ever been.
But more shocking than anything was Shasha's expression.
It was a face he could never have imagined on her—cold, glacial, utterly without warmth.
...This is.
Oscar's pupils trembled faintly.
Only because he knew Shasha so well—only because he prided himself on knowing her better than anyone—could he recognize it.
The emotion hidden beneath that icy expression was none other than a hatred hotter and fiercer than anything else in the world.
In the air that had turned to frost, Oscar opened his mouth carefully.
"Your senior disciple brother... isn't he? He trained under Oscar Sage, along with you."
"..."
Shasha drew a long breath, straightened her posture, and spoke.
"Oscar. Since it seems your memory has lost this too, I'll say it one final time."
Eyes cold enough to sting flew at his face and struck true.
"Do not mention my senior brother, my teacher, or anything to do with those people in front of me. Ever. That is a warning."
"..."
"I'm tired. Please leave."
Oscar hesitated over something he might yet say—but in the end, the words never came, and he could do nothing but walk out of the room.