Chapter 17: A Private Matter

  After countless efforts by the capital’s royal guards, the terrifying fugitive who had been on the run for two months was finally captured. He was to be burned at the stake that morning in the central square of the capital. News of this spread through the streets, and people rejoiced—at last, the capital would be safe again.

  Ethan mingled with the throng of onlookers, watching as the prisoner was dragged from a cage by several soldiers and tied to a post surrounded by firewood.

  The man was barely recognizable as alive. His emaciated body, matted hair, and face covered in cuts and blood made him unidentifiable. As the crowd roared like a tidal wave, the firewood erupted into flames. In the blink of an eye, the man was swallowed by the inferno—he did not even have time to scream.

  The efficiency of it all made Ethan feel slightly better. In a way, this man had died for the nation, to cover up a secret that could have endangered the empire. Dying for one’s country was, at the very least, a somewhat dignified end. But Ethan was certain: the man himself had not wanted to die.

  Such is the nature of matters of state. Ethan remembered Duke Mrak’s words from the night before. No one might have hated this man or wanted him dead, but after a tangled web of cold calculations about value and necessity, he still had to be burned to ash here.

  “Bang!” The prisoner’s abdomen burst open, inflated by the scorching air. The crowd let out a frenzied roar, filled with cruel delight.

  Ethan shuddered. It could have been him up there, the star of that fire. The searing heat washed over him, and he pushed his way out of the crowd and left.

  He did not understand matters of state, nor did he care to. Right now, he was busy with something far more important to him—a private matter.

  The night before, he had stayed up late rummaging through Sandro’s bookshelves, but had found no mention of the “Leaf of the World Tree.” The only reference was a single page in the latter half of the meditation book he used. Apart from the title—Leaf of the World Tree—the rest of the page was written in the same unreadable script. When he had gone to ask Sandro that morning, he had been surprised to find the old man in a fluster, saying he had to go out of the city. When Ethan pressed him about the hurry, Sandro had grinned and said, “To meet my girlfriend,” then grabbed a bag and ran off.

  Ethan had always found this odd. Since childhood, he had heard detailed stories from old adventurers about the most dangerous places and mysterious things on the continent. He had known everything about Lizard Marsh before he even set foot in it. Yet even so, he had never heard of a “World Tree,” and the name “Whispering Woods” meant nothing to him.

  But with no other leads, he had to follow this one. Suddenly, Ethan remembered the Magic Academy had a library—maybe there would be clues there.

  He went to the Magic Academy and entered the library. It was still early morning, so the library was nearly empty. The massive building was divided into over a dozen large rooms, each with a sign on the door—“Geography,” “History,” “Military”—indicating the type of books inside. Each room contained dozens of long bookshelves, crammed full of volumes.

  Ethan first checked the catalog in the “Botany” room. His eyes ached from scanning the list, but he found no entry for a “World Tree.” After wandering around for a while, he went into the room marked “Languages,” hoping to find a dictionary that could translate the script in his book. But faced with tens of thousands of books, he realized it was impossible—he did not even know what language the script belonged to.

  So Ethan wandered between the shelves, looking for someone to ask. But after searching most of the room, he saw no one. It was only when he reached the last two shelves that he finally spotted a figure.

  The person was wearing the white robe of a Magic Academy student. They were small and thin, squatting with their back to Ethan, focused on stacking books upright, one on top of the other. It was a game Ethan had played often before he was five—competing with other children to see who could build the tallest book tower.

  “Hey,” Ethan called out.

  The person jumped up as if startled, and the carefully stacked tower of books collapsed. When they turned around, Ethan realized it was a girl. There was a large bruise around her left eye, and her face looked familiar. After a closer look, he recognized her: she was the girl he had saved the night before—Sophia’s younger sister.

  She stared at Ethan, flustered. “I’m not playing! I just saw the books were messy, so I was tidying them up.”

  “Oh, it’s you,” Ethan said, surprised. This was perfect—she seemed to be a student here, so she might be able to help.

  “You’re not a librarian?” She breathed a sigh of relief, then frowned in confusion. “Who are you? Do you know me?”

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  “Well… I’m a friend of your sister’s,” Ethan replied, pulling out his book. “Can you help me? Look at—”

  “Liar!” She looked wary. “If you’re going to hit on me, at least think of a better excuse. And dress nicer, for starters.”

  Ethan shook his head in resignation, pulled out his mask, and put it on. “It’s me. Remember?” Her eyes widened in shock. Ethan took off the mask and put it away.

  “Oh! So that face was just a mask…” Chris stared at him, then shook her head. “Still no good. No hair, and you look like a mess.”

  Ethan had no idea what she was talking about. He opened the book to the page and handed it to her. “Can you do me a favor? Tell me what language this is, and if there’s a—”

  She did not even glance at the book. Instead, she looked at Ethan with disdain. “Do you have any manners? If you ask for help, you should at least be polite and use a proper title.”

  “Miss Mrak, please help me figure out what this writing is, and where I can find something to translate it.”

  “Ugh, stop being so formal. I owe you for saving me—just call me Chris. What’s your name?” Chris took the book.

  “Ethan,” he replied.

  “Weird name. Sounds like ‘fool’,” Chris said, flipping through the book. She looked proud as she added, “You’re lucky. This is ancient script from before the dynasty. I’m an expert in this stuff.”

  Ethan’s face lit up. “Perfect! Then please, expert—tell me what it says.”

  Chris leaned in to read, but panic stirred in her chest. The text was full of obscure words and strange grammar, and she had never paid much attention in her classes—she could only understand about a quarter of it. But she had already bragged about being an expert; she could not back down now. She forced the parts she recognized into a coherent story. Putting on a tone of authority, she said, “It says the leaf is in… a ‘forest of unspoken words’? That’s a weird name—weirder than yours.”

  “Do you mean Whispering Woods?” Ethan asked.

  Chris adopted the tone of an expert correcting a student. “That translation’s wrong. It should be ‘Forest of Unspoken Words’. The text says it’s south of Aery City, in the southeast of the empire… Hmm… The tree was planted by someone named Fama—and the leaves have great power. That’s it.”

  “That’s all? The page is full of writing. It can’t just be that,” Ethan said.

  Chris glared at him. “The reason they stopped using this script is because it’s full of useless garbage! It’s not practical.”

  “Really?” Ethan doubted her.

  “If you’re so smart, read it yourself!” Chris snapped, scolding him. “I told you the truth—stop pretending you know better.”

  Still, at least he now knew where to go and who was involved. Ethan relaxed. Looking at Chris, who was trying to act mature, he noticed she had not styled her hair in that over-the-top updo today—instead, she had tucked it into her robe. Without the colorful powder on her face, her youthful purity showed through, though the bruise around her eye made her look a little ridiculous. Ethan reached out, ruffled her hair, and pinched her cheek. “Thanks, expert. I’ll buy you candy later.”

  “Hey! Pervert!” Chris screamed, slapping his hand away. Ethan laughed and turned to leave. Suddenly, Chris chased after him and blocked his path. “You can’t just leave after I helped you!”

  “I said I’d buy you candy later, didn’t I?” Ethan replied.

  “Eat shit!” Chris’s language was as crude as a tavern mercenary’s—probably picked up from friends like the braided man. “I’m so bored. Talk to me for a while.”

  “I don’t know how to play games with stacking books, if that’s what you want,” Ethan said. The girl was amusing, and now that he had his lead, he was in a better mood. Chatting with her might not be so bad.

  So Ethan stayed in the library and talked with her—or rather, listened to her complain. Duke Mrak had told her she would have to travel with a merchant caravan to see the continent starting next month, to broaden her horizons. But Chris was clearly obsessed with the luxury of the capital; she had no desire to see the outside world, yet lacked the courage to defy her father.

  “Lend me that book you had earlier. If it’s interesting, I’ll take it with me on the trip. All the books here are boring,” Chris said, taking the book and flipping through it. Suddenly, she frowned at the first page. “The signature here is… Archibald Gryphon. That’s the royal family’s last name! And there’s a royal seal here—this is a royal book. Where did you steal it from? It’s weird, too—it feels like it’s made of some kind of skin.”

  “It’s human skin. And it’s someone else’s book—I have to return it,” Ethan lied, trying to scare her.

  “Eat shit! You think that scares me? I’ll give you some money if you want,” Chris scoffed. Someone who dressed this shabbily must be poor, and poor people could always be bought off with a little cash.

  Her words reminded Ethan: he had no money or horse. Traveling all the way to Whispering Woods on foot would take months. He hurried to say, “Then lend me some money.” The book belonged to Sandro, but it had been gathering dust in the back of a cabinet—surely it was not important. Sandro had probably even forgotten about it. Besides, he was only pawning it for travel expenses; he could return it later.

  Little did he know the true value of that book. If he had, he would not have dared to trade it—even if someone had forced him to “eat shit.”

  Chris pulled out over a dozen silver coins and tossed them to Ethan, sneering. Typical poor guy—easily bought with a few coins.

  She also had no idea what the book was. If she had, she would not have taken it even if someone had offered her a mountain of gold.

  Ethan stared at the shiny coins in his hand, stunned. He had not expected Chris to give him so much money—he had never held a silver coin in his life. Back in his hometown, one silver coin was enough to feed a family of three comfortably for a month.

  That a tattered old book could get him such a large sum was a pleasant surprise. He suddenly feared Chris might change her mind. He mumbled a few excuses and fled the room in a hurry. It was only after he left the Magic Academy that he realized he had forgotten to look up details about Whispering Woods. But at least he knew the general location—he could ask people in Aery City when he got there.

  When he returned to Sandro’s house, the old man was still out. Ethan was afraid Sandro would nag him about the four years of work he owed, and he felt guilty about pawning the book for silver. So he left a note for Sandro, saying he had gone to Whispering Woods to find the Leaf of the World Tree. Then he went to the Adventurers’ Guild, bought a horse and some supplies, and set off.

  A while after he left, Sandro stumbled back home. When he read the note Ethan had left, he let out a strange yelp.

  “Surely it’ll be fine…” He thought for a moment, shaking his head. He picked up the note and waved it.

  With a whoosh, the paper burst into a wisp of smoke in his hand.