Lilieth V. Lasvenn clasped her hands in prayer in front of Eulalie’s statue. Every day, she knelt and prayed for hours on end, every morning and evening. She would collect the prayers of everyone in Hesperus, memorize them, then silently recite all of them to Eulalie, without missing a single one. It was normal for her, and she’s done it for as long as she could remember—which, given her memory, was a very long time.

  After finishing her prayer, she stood up and walked out the small temple. She passed through the dirt roads of Hesperus, bowing at villagers who greeted her with praise.

  “Good work, priestess.”

  “Thank you, priestess.”

  “We are indebted to you, priestess.”

  Such words graced her ears. She was only an apprentice priestess, still, but the villagers all treated her like the real thing. Her grandmother was the only Eulaline priestess in Hesperus, and after she passed away, the duty fell to Lilieth.

  “—Ah.”

  Lilieth stopped as she saw a group of children playing. They were around her age, at about twelve. She knew all of their names, of course. She’s even received prayers from them before. But she’s never really talked to them.

  They laughed cheerfully as they passed a ball around with their feet. Lilieth lingered at the edge of the road, fingers brushing against the hem of her sleeve. She couldn’t help but smile, too, seeing them have so much fun.

  One of the children kicked the ball a bit too hard, and it flew through the air, hitting the ground and skidding to a stop near Lilieth’s feet. They all stood still, noticing she was there.

  Almost in panic, and because she didn’t know what else to do, Lilieth crouched down to pick up the ball. It was made of worn leather, its seams frayed after having been used for so long. She held it a little too long, feelings its weight upon her hands.

  When she looked up, the children were already straightening, dusting off the dirt on their clothes and standing as properly as they could. One boy stepped forward, nervously accepting the ball she offered with both hands, then gave a deep, low bow. The other children followed.

  The boy who took the ball shuffled back to the group, murmuring to each other as they retreated down the road. When they had disappeared behind some houses, Lilieth could hear the sound of laughter and playing once again, a distant tune now.

  Lilieth stayed there for a moment longer, looking at the faint traces of dirt on her hands. She cleaned it, as was expected of her, and continued her quiet walk home.

  She entered her grandmother’s house, a meager farmhouse at the edge of the village, standing on top of a hill overlooking Hesperus.

  “I’m home,” Lilieth said to a dark hallway that had nothing to say in return. It was more habit than anything.

  After that, she fell into the same monotonous routine she had for the past year. Water the plants, clean the house, cook some food. The same things she did even when her grandmother was still alive. Nothing much changed in her routine, except that it was a bit lonelier nowadays.

  The villagers would occasionally visit to leave behind gifts, like food and clothes. But for the most part, she lived alone, with no one to take care of her. Everyone sort of expected her to be able to take care of herself. Lilieth, who was born Blessed, was treated differently from other children.

  She carried a pile of now dry laundry inside the house. Lilieth stared at the clothes, then had an idea.

  She rolled up the clothes into a ball, tying up the sleeves around to hold the shape, until she had a ball of clothes, similar in size to the ones the children used. She dropped it to the floor and began to kick it around. Of course, it didn’t bounce; it simply rolled. Still, she imagined playing with the others, kicking the ball around clumsily. She remembered their laughter, so vivid. Soon, she found herself laughing as well.

  Eventually, the clothes ball couldn’t hold itself together, and collapsed into a regular pile of clothes. Lilieth gave out a sigh, and stared out the window, towards the horizon.

  Living in Hesperus wasn’t all bad. She loved the village she called her home. She’d be satisfied living here for the rest of her life, so long as she got to practice her faith.

  But she felt that she was destined for more. Eulalie Blessed her at birth. That had to mean something, right?

  “If someone could take me away from here...” she whispered out a silent prayer.

  Lilieth walked forward, and tripped on the pile of clothes, falling straight to the—

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  “Ow!”

  Lilieth said as her head fell to the wooden floor. She was in Artemest, on the ground next to her bed, after having fallen out of it.

  “Another memory,” Lilieth groaned as she sat herself back up.

  Her inn room was small, but comfortable. Well cleaned. The money she got from Spearman meant she didn’t want for food and comfort, though she didn’t really know what to do with the rest of it.

  How did he have that much money, anyways?

  Lilieth stood up, seeing the sunrise. It was still fairly early. Today, she had to go and train with Albus, Spearman’s third student.

  She cradled the back of her head, still stinging from the fall.

  “Take me away, huh?”

  That memory she saw was from four years ago, two years before Verlaine showed up and recruited her. The fact she was born with Blessings was the main reason the hero’s party took an interest in her.

  Perhaps she should have stayed in Hesperus.

  Lilieth arrived at the empty clearing where she trained the day before, carrying a wooden sword with her that she took from Spearman’s home. This was where today’s lesson was supposed to happen, and yet there was no one there. No Spearman, no Albus. Just an empty clearing.

  She stood at the center of the field, all alone.

  “Master Spearman?” She called out. “Uh, sir Albus? Anyone?”

  She looked around, but found no one. Strange. Perhaps it was cancelled?

  Just as she was about to turn and leave, another wooden sword flung out from the forest, colliding with her hand.

  “Argh?!”

  Lilieth’s wooden sword was knocked out of her grip, flying a few meters away from her. Suddenly, a figure emerged from the forest and rushed at her, stand low. In his hands, two wooden blades.

  In an instant, Lilieth recognized the man. Pale skin, gray hair, a stubble on his chin. His eyes were a striking gray, matching his own hair. He had a smile on his face as he swung.

  This was him. The man she saw sparring with Grits when she woke up. The third student, Albus.

  “Wait—!”

  Lilieth jumped back, narrowly evading Albus’ dual-sword strike. He followed up with slash after slash, each time Lilieth dodging by a hair’s breadth.

  She clicked her tongue, realizing that he wasn’t in the mood to talk. “[Bedivere]!”

  Her vision shifted as she began to fall backwards. Albus released one of his blades and grabbed her ankle, slamming her down to the ground. Her vision blurred. She saw Albus swinging at her with his remaining sword.

  She couldn’t dodge. She was on the ground.

  She couldn’t block. Her arms were underneath her, pinned by her own body.

  “[Murus]!” Lilieth yelled out.

  A wall of earth emerged beside her, stopping Albus’ blade from reaching. Usually, whenever she casted Murus, it was always too slow. But now, it had sprung up a lot quicker than it did before. Was it because of the adrenaline?

  Lilieth stood back up, readying herself for the next attack—an attack that never came. She looked confusingly at Albus, who was smirking at her like a child.

  “Skymage,” he said. “And Sculptmage.”

  Lilieth’s eyes widened. She realized too late.

  Sibeiya, Spearman, and Grits all believed she was a Skymage. After all, the only spell she ever used in front of them was Bedivere. She was hiding the fact that she could access spells that didn’t belong to her. Them finding out about her “immortality” couldn’t be helped, but she didn’t want to divulge too much about herself to others.

  Albus settled into a relaxed pose, crossing his arms. “So, the undying girl has a few more tricks up her sleeve. Let me guess. You were originally a Sculptmage, before gaining Sky magic?”

  “How did you know?” Lilieth asked.

  “I was watching your duel with Sibeiya,” Albus said. “Bedivere is a Second tier spell, and you seem rather inexperienced for a Second tier. I think even I’d find it hard to land a hit on a Second.”

  “I didn’t see you back then,” Lilieth said.

  “Oh, I was sleeping in a bush nearby and your fight woke me up. No cause for alarm.”

  “That only makes me more alarmed—”

  “Anyhow, Grits might’ve already told you this, but I’ll be teaching you how to use your spells! And of course, as your magic teacher, I’ll need to know your entire arsenal of spells. But you don’t seem the type to open up about that, so I had to take drastic measures.”

  “...Like attacking me?”

  “Look, Guillem is tasking me to do this, and he’d be pissed if I failed to do so. And I’m also pretty sure he’s already figured you out, so there’s really no point hiding anything.”

  Lilieth shuffled uncomfortably. Albus was ... weird. Niko certainly wasn’t lying about that.

  “So, I assume that you only know Sky magic and Sculpt magic?” he asked.

  “...That’s right. I only know Bedivere, though,” Lilieth replied. If this man could help her become a stronger mage, then it was probably wise to cooperate.

  “And how did that happen?”

  “I ... when I first revived, I found myself able to use it. It’s not my spell. It belonged to ... to someone I knew.”

  “Interesting,” Albus stroked the stubble on his chin. “A mage can be Blessed only by one god. One god, one magic. To have two is unprecedented.”

  “Bringing someone back from the dead is unprecedented, too.”

  “Not necessarily,” Albus said. “There are rumors that Fourth tier Healmages could bring someone back from death. That being said, they could only do it to others, never to themselves. To be able to bring oneself back to life ... now that’s unprecedented.”

  Lilieth never knew that. Because there were so few Fourths in the world, information about their spells were scarce. He said it was just a rumor, but perhaps he knew more about magic than Lilieth did.

  “Sir Grits said you’re Blessed. What magic?”

  “Martial magic,” he replied. “I make myself stronger. A simple magic, but useful, especially for a great warrior such as I.”

  “And you know much about magic?”

  “You could say I’m interested in such topics, yes.”

  “I haven’t seen you use magic, though,” she said. “I didn’t hear you chant.”

  “Did you, now?” Albus flashed a cheeky smile. “Really?”

  Lilieth narrowed her eyes. Illusionmages were the only Blessed able to omit chants. Was there really a way for other mages to do so as well?

  Albus shrugged. “You’re right, I didn’t use a single Martial spell today. But that doesn’t mean I’m not an expert, alright? At any rate, Guillem told me to do this, so unfortunately, neither of us have a choice in this matter. Let’s get along, yeah?”

  Albus held out a hand. Lilieth didn’t take it.

  “So what’s the first lesson?” Lilieth asked.

  The gray-haired man frowned and withdrew his hand. “Well, it would be to learn manners, first and foremost. Kids these days.”

  Lilieth caught a glimpse of Albus’ palm. A leaf with yellow veins was sticking on it. A shockleaf, known to send weak—but noticeable—electrical surges when touched on one side. Beloved by children for their use in pranks.

  She drew her lips to a line and stared at Albus, who avoided eye contact.

  Maybe she really should have stayed in Hesperus.