Chapter 2 - Intruder

  The girl’s voice sounded both scared and indignant, like she was facing the god of death with a heart full of complaints.

  But, kill her? Did he sound that scary? Or was she simply extremely paranoid?

  “No, not at all! Why would you think that?”

  “Don’t play games with me!” she yelled, having tipped over into anger rather than fear. She turned to him completely, but her eyes remained closed.

  Quite a cute girl, with blonde hair set up in an elaborate bun. She couldn’t be more than fourteen-fifteen years old. A white stick was placed by the stone she sat on, and only then did Daniel realize.

  “Oh, you’re blind?”

  Insensitive, Daniel. You’ve practised this.

  He admonished himself internally. Tact had never been his strong suit, and living alone for years had only made it worse.

  But what was a blind girl doing alone out here? Wouldn’t it be dangerous?

  “I mean… I’m sorry. But I really have no intention of hurting you.”

  “...Really?”

  “Really.”

  She paused at his words, then shook her head in disbelief. “Then why are you on our family grounds? Artorias Mountain is heavily protected!”

  “...Oh.”

  Artorias Mountain. Well, it made sense for it to be called that, given what had happened. Though this meant he might have to keep a low profile after all.

  But how would he explain how he got here? Tell her that he’s been sleeping here since before her ancestor ever set foot here? Or that he broke in by accident?

  Yeah, that was definitely better.

  “Right, the barrier. I was out in the wilderness, exploring, and had to cross it to get to the city.”

  “Another crazed pilgrim,” she mumbled under her breath, barely audible. “...You’re really not… here to kill me?”

  This time, she sounded nearly on the verge of tears. But, as a young girl who for some reason thought she was about to die, it would be strange if she weren’t.

  “What kind of life do you live if you think someone would send assassins after you?”

  She hesitated, quietly playing with a ring on her finger as she considered her answer. “...I’m from the Harrowbloom family.”

  The Harrowbloom family. It sounded vaguely familiar, but it hadn’t been among the more prominent families in the story. Apparently, now it was important enough to explain why there would be assassins after a young girl.

  “Harrowbloom…” he mumbled, scratching his chin.

  She scoffed at his reaction, clearly not believing he didn’t know the name.

  But then he recalled it.

  The royal blacksmith had been called Harrowbloom, and he was a friend of the king. It made at least some sense for the family to have grown since then.

  “The blacksmiths, right?”

  “...No?”

  Damn it. Hiding his ignorance would be harder than he expected. And a child of a prominent family could cause trouble.

  “I’m not from around here, sorry. I guess it’s an important family?”

  “We serve the queen,” she replied, not bothering to explain further. Her head even lifted a bit with pride as she spoke. “If you’re not from around here, where are you from?”

  Oh, so there is still a queen.

  “Ah, I am from… Velomaris.”

  Even to his own ears, it sounded like he’d just picked the first thing off a map. Hopefully, the neighboring continent was believable enough that she wouldn’t press.

  Despite being blind, she somehow seemed to stare at him sceptically. Then she sat in silence for a while before standing up from her spot. Her arms folded in front of her chest, and she bowed to him in greeting.

  “I am Felicia Harrowbloom, youngest daughter of Franz Harrowbloom.”

  “Oh, right. I am Daniel.” He bowed back, though it was far less elegant than she had been. It was obvious she had been trained in etiquette, like anyone from a noble family would be.

  “...Just Daniel?”

  “Daniel Hansen. Uhm, the eldest son of Peter Hansen.”

  He didn’t remember the tradition of naming one’s father during introductions, but he figured it was better to follow suit. And there was no reason not to give his real name, so he did.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Daniel. Not everyone bows back when they greet me.”

  “...Because you’re blind? Isn’t that rude?”

  At his words, a slight smile played on her lips. “Some think I won’t notice, while others… others want me to.”

  There was a sadness in her voice as she spoke.

  Not your business. Just ask your questions and leave.

  But when was a good time to ask what year it was? Never, usually. Not unless you wanted to get strange looks.

  Once the silence had dragged on for a while, Felicia continued, “I’m sure you can see the city from here, so if you wouldn’t mind…”

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “I understand.” He walked closer to her, getting a better look at her features. She couldn’t be much older than fifteen, probably a few years younger.

  “I have one question, then I’ll be on my way. What kind of magic were you using earlier?”

  She froze for just a brief moment, but swiftly calmed herself and shook her head. “I don’t know any magic. My family says it’s too dangerous, since I’m blind.”

  That made sense. Teaching dangerous magic to a blind girl was bound to cause problems.

  But it also made sense for her to lie. He had sensed mana being manipulated nearby, however weak it was. And this seemed a perfect spot to practice in secret.

  Can I convince her to reveal it, though?

  He searched Artorias’s memories, along with his own, trying to find something the girl would want. Someone practising magic in secret, hiding from her family. She wanted power, or at least some kind of control over her own life.

  She had likely grown up with a silver spoon, but was also constantly nervous about assassins, by the looks of it. Some kind of protective item?

  Hmm…

  Oh, he didn’t have to think so hard, he realized. The walking stick was clue enough.

  A devious smile spread across his face. “Oh, just because you’re blind, they’re not teaching you? I figured you had learned some, to at least let you sense your surroundings through mana.”

  That caught her attention, just as he had hoped.

  “...What do you mean?”

  “You don’t know about magic sight?” He feigned surprise, raising his brows despite her inability to see. “Is that forgotten magic in Javos?”

  Her brows furrowed. “Magic sight? How does it work?” Her tone had turned curious, but still veiled behind a thick drape of caution.

  “Mages have to be able to sense their own mana to cast spells. We cannot look at it all while casting, especially not at the higher levels. So, mana can be sensed through our magic.”

  She nodded slowly, likely from experience. Anyone who has used magic at least once would know that much. “But, that’s not the same as seeing your surroundings.”

  “No, but if you spread your mana around you constantly in a specific way, you can sense the shapes of everything around you—if you are a mage. But even then, it’s not easy to learn.”

  “...Prove it.”

  Daniel shrugged, putting on a sorry face. “I could, but is there any point? I think it would just frustrate you to know when you’re not allowed to learn it.”

  Was it cruel to dangle the ability to see in front of a blind girl like this?

  It definitely was.

  But he had to know. She was the only clue that could help him learn why all of this had happened to him, and he doubted they would meet again.

  Besides, he genuinely wanted to help her. Her life couldn’t be easy if she immediately jumped to the conclusion that he was an assassin sent to kill her.

  Please take the bait.

  Sure enough, she seemed to be fighting a debate internally, biting her lips and knitting her brows. Her hands were playing nervously with that ring on her middle finger again.

  “Couldn’t I learn with time? If you could only point me in the right direction…”

  “You could. The Academy in Novanny should have a few books on the subject, if you look in the section with tomes from the year 1297.”

  Brilliant move. Not only would he learn if the academy was still standing, but he would also learn what year it was, hopefully.

  “1297? You’re from the future?”

  What?

  “...No. Don’t you know your history, young lady?”

  Her brows furrowed in confusion, but then a look of realization. “Oh, you still use the old calendar in Velomaris? We use the Artorian calendar here, and it’s currently the year 1013.”

  Daniel started coughing, hard. Laughing as well—or at least he felt like it.

  “Th-The Artorian calendar? Named after Artorias?!”

  “Yeah, when he sealed the evil spirit for the sake of humanity. Surely you know that, at least?”

  He did know of that. Ahh, he sure did.

  What the fuck?! A thousand years?! And Artorias is Jesus now?! I mean, sure, he did a great thing, but… plenty of people had defeated worse enemies before then, and probably after as well.

  Felicia continued on her own. He was lucky she couldn’t see him right now, with both hands digging into his scalp.

  “So 1297 would be… a thousand years ago? That sure is helpful,” she replied, voice drenched with sarcasm. “For a girl who can’t even learn magic or read, getting a book from the greatest magic academy’s sealed section should be a simple task.”

  …At least the academy still stands. And that means the World Seal is still intact, at least. Hopefully, the old elf is as well.

  He sighed and cleared his throat. “It’s… the only place I’m sure you’ll find it.”

  That’s where Artorias had learned it, after all. Though the books were relatively new at that time.

  She tilted her head just slightly, curling her lips into a polite, almost sweet smile. “Perhaps then, you could explain the theory yourself. In return, I won’t trouble my father with the detail that you’ve wandered into our hallowed grounds without permission. He’s a grandmage, and can be… very protective.”

  The sudden change in her demeanor made him smile, despite the multitude of thoughts racing through his head. She had claws after all, however tiny. “I was wondering when you’d start pushing back.”

  He wasn’t too worried about her father, but the less noise he made here, the better. “How about this: I show you it’s real. Then, if you decide to trust me with your magic, I’ll teach you how.”

  “That’s strange logic. I can’t use magic, so there’s nothing to reveal.”

  “Sure, sure. But you still want proof, don’t you?”

  There was a long pause as a visible battle played out in her expressions. Desire won out, in the end. “…Please.”

  Daniel smiled faintly. “Then hide one arm behind your back, and I’ll tell you how many fingers you’re holding up.”

  Her arm went behind her back immediately. “How many fingers?”

  “Give me a second, I need to activate it first. It’s been a while since I used it.”

  He closed his eyes, letting mana bleed from his core in slow, deliberate waves. The world sharpened in his mind—blades of grass dancing in the breeze, grains of dust drifting between them, the faint warmth of the sun on stone. Even color seeped into the picture, muted but real.

  Then the ground trembled beneath his feet.

  Felicia’s shaky voice called out to him, “Daniel… the earth is shaking.”

  His eyes opened slightly. Right. Maybe flooding the entire area with raw mana had been a bit much.

  He stopped immediately, reducing the mana-output to a fraction of what it had been. The image was still clear.

  “Sorry about that. Now I really am ready.”

  “...How strong are you? A high mage? Grandmage?”

  “Strong enough. Do you want to test me or not?”

  She went quiet and focused on the test again, putting both her arms behind her back now. Instead of holding up fingers, she removed a ring from her hand and clutched her fist around it.

  “How many fingers?”

  Daniel smiled. She really was clever.

  “None, but the ring in your fist has thirteen stones in it, and seems to be made of silver.”

  Franz Harrowbloom was not easily rattled.

  As patriarch and grandmage, he carried the weight of a family that had clawed its way from humble smiths to one of the great powers of the white city. Politically, his influence was matched by few in the north.

  Magically, his level of twelve hundred—edging ever closer to thirteen—made him a force no sane man would provoke.

  But when the wave of mana hit, all that composure vanished.

  It slammed into him from behind, raw and oppressive, like standing waist-deep in the ocean as a tide rose without warning.

  Mana. Precise, deliberate, and vast. It was the kind of mana that bent the air around it, that resonated in the bones.

  And it was coming from Artorias Mountain.

  For a heartbeat, Franz’s mind flicked to his mother. Her control over mana had been unmatched in her prime. But this wasn’t hers. It was sharper, more pronounced.

  An intruder.

  Franz’s lips pressed into a thin line. Whatever fool had broken into his family’s grounds had not come for idle sightseeing.

  He didn’t waste another thought. Fists of fire left scorchmarks on the door as he left his office, yelling at the nearest guards, “Prepare the airship!”