Mushoku Tensei (LN) - Volume SS - Chapter 1

Short Story:

Sylphie’s Father

EVER SINCE SHE WAS BORN, my daughter Sylphiette was a pitiful child. Her hair was green. In the eyes of the world, that was devil hair. At her birth, my wife looked at me in shock. Neither she nor I had green hair.

Panicking, my wife insisted that she had not been unfaithful. Of course, I knew that she loved me with all her heart. I never doubted her. On the contrary, I felt sorry. I suspected that that hair had something to do with my ancestor. I was a half-elf. My father’s identity was uncertain, and my mother had never told me about her lineage. Sylphiette’s hair must have been either my father’s or my mother’s ancestor’s blood coming out. 

“My family is the problem,” I told my wife. “Thank you for giving birth to her for us.” At that, she started crying. My wife herself was the child of a beastfolk slave and an unknown stranger. The two of us, neither of us knowing our fathers, had met, fallen in love, and had a child. I cried too. We wept together, then pledged to God that we would raise this child with love.

After the birth, I went to consult the village men straight away. I told them my daughter had green hair, but that did not mean she was evil. If there was anything I could do for the village, I would do it. I asked them to do their best to set aside their prejudice and ­accept her. I expect they agreed because of my good conduct up until then: I had settled in the village back when it was first established, and until the arrival of Paul, our resident knight, it had been my job alone to keep monster numbers down. I had built a good relationship with the villagers. That was the reason. And the villagers were good sorts, besides. That was the Asura Kingdom for you. When the land was prosperous, even the villagers were open-hearted. In any other country, we would have undoubtedly faced persecution. But in this village, even our daughter could grow up happy and healthy. That was the optimistic view we took back then.

It was around when my daughter turned four that I realized that rules for adults did not work with children. It was just after the Saint-tier magician Roxy came to the village and won the villagers’ acceptance that my daughter started to be picked on by the village children. I expect it was in part because of the talk going around that Roxy, with her blue hair, was a demon. In the epic tales that adults tell children, demons are always the enemy. The village children also targeted Roxy at first, but that was a Saint-tier magician for you. The children were no match for her powers.

With Roxy gone, the one who became a target in her place was my green-haired daughter. Lacking any way to stand up to them, she had mud hurled at her as she walked along the street; and sometimes they even chased her around with sticks. It made my blood boil. But despite all our daughter suffered, the village’s adults were accommodating of us. I could not let my anger drive me to harm their children. So, I started by asking why they were doing such nasty things. To my surprise, the children thought of picking on the demon as a game. The game was that they threw mud and brandished sticks, then Roxy either brushed their attack aside and chased them off, or she played along and pretended to be vanquished. I told them my daughter was still too young for that game and that it only scared her. I asked them to stop. But the children would not listen to me.

After that, we began to take precautions. My wife cut our ­daughter’s hair short and made her trousers to make it easy for her to run away. I asked the children’s parents to help her if she was bullied. For her fifth birthday, I went all the way to the town of Roa and handed over the little money we had in exchange for a hooded coat for her—to hide her hair.

But this did not solve things. When the children set in on her, the adults came to her aid, but the bullying began to take place away from adult eyes. At five years old, my daughter was afraid to go outside. She grew more and more downcast, and she no longer smiled. I considered just picking up and moving to a different place, but with her hair, it would be the same anywhere we went. This village, where at least the adults were understanding, was likely still preferable. I thought the children would become more reasonable once they grew older. But how would those years be for our daughter? My wife and I worried over this day in and day out.

On one such day, my daughter’s spirits suddenly picked up again. She had met Rudeus. He had rescued her, and even now continued to protect her. She had taken to him completely, and lately he was all she talked about, even at mealtimes.

The previous night, she had told us happily about how today, Rudy had done this and tomorrow, Rudy would do that. I saw my daughter smile for the first time in a long time. And our dinner table was cheerful again for the first time in a long time. But when it comes to trouble, it never rains but pours. A succession of troubles befell my daughter, and I was at a loss for what to do about it.

“Haah.”

“What’s got you sighing, Laws?”

It was the dead of night. We were in the middle of our turn on watch duty. Without realizing it, I must have let a sigh slip out.

“Hey there, Paul.”

Paul was Rudeus’s father. He had taken up residence in the ­village as a knight, protecting the peace here.

“If something’s weighing on you, you can talk to me,” he said.

“Oh, I wouldn’t go so far as to say it’s weighing on me.”

“Well, say it anyway. Not like we’ve got anything else to do.”

Paul was no ordinary swordsman. He had reached the advanced tier in all three great fighting styles. The likes of the monsters around here couldn’t even scratch him. With his abilities, he could have made a living for himself even in the capital. Yet, for some reason, he was here in this back-of-beyond village… All the same, when I thought of how his son saved my daughter, it made me glad with all my heart. But what had me at a loss right then had led directly from that…

Then again, that made him the perfect guy to point me toward some kind of solution.

“Well…” I decided to tell him what had been on my mind lately. “Last night, my wife told our daughter, ‘Tomorrow, Daddy goes to the guard post, so you come home around lunchtime and help him get ready.’”

“Hey, you’re having her help already? What a good kid.” Paul nodded, impressed, but Sylphie and Rudeus were both already seven. It was customary for children to start to learn how to help out around the house after they turned five… But then, Paul had had Rudeus taking classes for gifted children since the boy was three.

“So then what’s the trouble?”

“She didn’t come home until evening.”

Lately, my daughter had stopped doing as she was told.

“Ah…” Paul said. “But hey, that’s normal, isn’t it? Kids lose track of time when they’re playing.”

“I wouldn’t mind if it were one time, but it’s happening a lot these days.” When nothing else was happening, she helped out as usual and listened to what she was told.

“Can’t you just give her a good telling-off to make her be careful next time?”

“When I tell her off, she just says, ‘But Rudy…’ She makes excuses just like that. She doesn’t really listen to us.” At this, Paul’s face grew serious. “Oh, no,” I added, “It’s not that I blame young Rudeus. He’s been a great help to us.” He had saved my daughter, after all. My little girl, who, just as she turned five and began to go out by herself, had become the target of the village children’s jeers of “Demon!” and “Bad guy!” I was grateful for that, and I understood why she was attached to him. All the same, Sylphie really was making more excuses. When she was five or so, she had accepted everything my wife and I said, but lately, it seemed as though Rudeus’s word was everything to her, while we were only of secondary importance.

Perhaps that was only natural. After all, when she was suffering, we were unable to help her.

“It’s just a little concerning, you know, a child that age not listening to her parents.”

Paul frowned, not saying anything. It seemed he had some thoughts about that.

“But then,” I went on, “that may change after a few more years.” My daughter’s head was likely full of nothing but Rudeus right now. So full that she forgot what her parents told her, and that when we asked for an explanation, she only told us, ‘But Rudy…’ But as she grew up and grew more sensible, I was sure she would start listening to her parents again.

“Well…I hope so…” Now, Paul looked fierce—menacing, even. “We’ll see about that,” he said significantly, then fell into brooding silence. I was so daunted that I found myself falling silent too. That same oppressive atmosphere hung over us for the rest of our watch. We didn’t say another word to each other.

It was not until later that I learned what had been on Paul’s mind.