Secrets of the Silent Witch - Volume 3 - Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

The Starseer Witch Mary Harvey’s Heart-Pounding Reading 

The Starseer Witch’s estate was about two hours by carriage from Serendia Academy, but with Ryn’s flight magecraft, it didn’t take much time at all. Monica arrived at the Harvey residence in the evening, just as the sun was setting; she’d asked Nero to stay behind in the attic room.

“Welcome to my estate, Monica dear.”

The voice welcoming her belonged to a silver-haired beauty reclining lazily on a long, cushioned bench. She had an odd aura about her and seemed to possess both the quiet calm of a mature lady and the girlish innocence of a dreamer.

This was Mary Harvey, one of the Seven Sages and the greatest prophet in the land—and the very person who had invited Monica here.

Wearing her Sage robes over a thin, revealing silk dress, she took a wineglass from a young servant standing beside her and downed its contents in one gulp. She had a number of servants bustling back and forth waiting on her—all young men in dress shirts and short pants cut off above the knees. It seemed that was the uniform here.

Seated across from Mary was a man with long chestnut-colored hair tied up in a braid—the Barrier Mage Louis Miller. He was downing his wine like it was water. He, too, wore his Sage robe and had his staff leaning against the long bench. That meant Monica had been called here on Seven Sages business.

Louis placed his empty glass on the table, then turned to look at Monica and smiled. “Well, if it isn’t my esteemed colleague. Good evening. That dress suits you very well.”

“It’s good to see you again, Mr. Louis. Ummm, ummm…”

Monica looked back and forth between Mary and Louis as she stammered. She didn’t know why she’d been called here. But if Louis came, too, does that mean we’re facing a major problem that requires multiple Sages? …Then again, both of them were elegantly drinking wine poured by good-looking young men. But then, why did they call me here? she thought, confused.

Mary, smiling, gestured for Monica to sit. “Now, now, have a seat, Monica, my dear. Do you like wine? I have an excellent one from Farfolia. This has been a fruitful year for wine, so I simply had to buy a few bottles.”

In the Kingdom of Ridill, you were provisionally considered an adult at sixteen and allowed to drink alcohol like beer and wine. But Monica never had a good time with alcohol. In fact, she always had a terrible time.

“I, um, don’t really…”

“Oh? Well, let’s get you some fruit juice, then. Come! We have rare fruits as well. It’s still a tad early for dinner, but here, eat up!”

“Th-thank you very much.”

One of the young servants poured a glass for her, and she sipped at it, looking around the room.

The Starseer Witch was originally from a viscount’s family, and she’d served the kingdom for many years as one of the Sages. As one might expect, her estate was gorgeous.

Particularly splendid were the windows. They had beautiful decorative frames and were fitted with large panes of glass, allowing for an excellent view of the outside scenery. The glass was probably necessary for her to see out and read the stars, but even so, it was quite extravagant.

“Um, what did you need from me today, ma’am…?” Monica hesitantly asked.

Mary licked her wine-wet lips and smiled mischievously. “Come, now. You mustn’t be so formal. I simply thought, since Louie was already here, we could all have a meal together and deepen our relationships as fellow Sages. You know, I’ve been wanting to get to know you better, dear. We’re the only two girls in the group, after all.”

“Oh,” responded Monica noncommittally.

Next to her, Louis opened his mouth, then closed it again. He was probably about to say something along the lines of, I’m not sure you can call yourself a girl at your age, but he seemed to have enough respect for Mary that he swallowed his words. After all, Mary Harvey was estimated to be the oldest of the Sages, not to mention the foremost prophet in the kingdom.

The Seven Sages were the highest-ranked mages in Ridill, and each specialized in a different field of magic. While Monica could use unchanted magecraft and Louis was a genius at creating barriers, the Starseer Witch Mary Harvey was a master at reading the stars. Astrology was by no means a rare field of study, but Mary’s incredible precision put her leaps and bounds ahead of the rest, and her skills had gained her immense trust from the king. She always took the lead at meetings of the Sages.

That gave Monica a thought. Was Mary criticizing her in a roundabout way for never attending those meetings? It had been about two years since Monica’s appointment, after all. The meetings were held once every few months, but she’d only attended two or three.

“Um, I’m really sorry for not being at many of the meetings…,” apologized Monica, trying to take the initiative.

Mary burst into laughter. “Oh, don’t you worry about that! You don’t need to force yourself to attend. Not much happens at them anyway. Usually you’ll have Louie and Emanuel exchanging nasty remarks while Raul casually eats vegetables and Bradford just snores through the whole thing. And then there’s Ray…who attends even less frequently than you do.”

This description was more than enough to shatter any illusions one might hold of the Seven Sages being an elite group of serious academics. Mary had called everyone by their first name, but if Monica recalled correctly, Emanuel was the Gem Mage, Raul the Witch of Thorns, Bradford the Artillery Mage, and Ray the Abyss Shaman.

As Monica peeled the skin from one of the grapes she’d been offered, she shot a sidelong glance at Louis. Both he and Mary were sociable—relative to the other Sages anyway—but she’d never heard of the pair having any sort of personal relationship.

“Mr. Louis, do you come to Lady Harvey’s mansion often?” she asked.

Louis languidly shook his head. “No. She actually had something of a favor to ask me regarding a certain sealing barrier.”

“Ah, yes,” said Mary. “In thanks, I prepared food and wine, but then we started thinking, why not invite dear Monica as well? That’s why I had his spirit bring you here.”

As his title implied, Louis was a master of barrier spells. He maintained defensive barriers around many major facilities in the kingdom. Mary had probably asked him for help with something similar.

Monica hesitated. She wasn’t sure whether to ask any more questions about it.

“Oh, yes!” said Mary, as if suddenly remembering something. “There’s a little festival happening in a nearby town. I’ll be doing a magical dedication, releasing magicules. Monica, dear, you should come and watch!”

Magical dedications were sometimes performed at festivals and ceremonial events. These were rituals wherein a mage would present some kind of magecraft, then dedicate it to a god or Spirit King. The sort Mary had referred to involved the mage absorbing mana from the surrounding environment before releasing it.

When too much mana pooled in an area, it tended to lure in certain creatures, such as spirits or dragons. What’s more, people living in areas with excessive mana density were at higher risk of mana poisoning.

Monica knew of these types of rituals, but she’d never actually seen one. She’d been worming her way out of any ritual-related jobs ever since joining the Seven Sages.

As she struggled to respond, Louis grinned in amusement and narrowed his eyes at her. “Magical dedications are part of our duty as Sages, my esteemed colleague. I think you would benefit from seeing one in person.”

“Oof…” Monica’s face clouded over. I don’t want to do any magical dedications if I can help it, she thought sincerely. After all, such rituals were usually the centerpiece of a festival and drew a lot of attention. It was too much for someone like Monica, who hated standing out.

Mary put a hand to her cheek and smiled. “Well, you don’t need to think that hard about it. Just go and enjoy the festival. Magicule releases are really pretty, you know!”

“Oh. And where is this festival…?”

“In a town called Corlapton.”

Why, that was the same town Isabelle had spoken about just a few hours ago. It was only a coincidence, but Monica couldn’t help feeling destiny at work. She thought back on the origin of the festival Agatha had explained.

“That’s, um, the Bell-Ringing Festival from the eastern lands, right? Errr, where the souls of the dead return to this world…”

“That’s the one. Every year, they dedicate crops, songs, and dances to thank the King of the Earth Spirits Archraedo and mourn the dead. But this year, the stars are so favorable that they’re holding a special magical dedication.”

Monica wasn’t familiar with how the circulation of the stars related to magecraft. But for Mary, the kingdom’s greatest astrologian, it played a big role in the power and precision of spells.

Monica had to admit she was a little curious about Mary’s magical dedication. She glanced at Louis and asked, “Um, Mr. Louis, are you, uh, going, too?”

“No, I’m afraid not, but I will lend you Ryn. She’ll get you to the festival in no time.”

Flight magecraft generally allowed only the caster to fly, and only for relatively short distances. But Ryn, as a high wind spirit, could enclose several people in a veil of wind and travel far and fast, thanks to the incredible mana reserves and manipulation skills only spirits possessed. With Ryn’s power, Monica would be able to participate in the festival and sneak back into Serendia Academy in plenty of time. That must be what Louis had in mind as well.

“You’re lending us a high spirit?” exclaimed Mary. “Oh, you sure know how to make a lady happy! If you were fifteen years younger, I might have even given you a little smooch on the cheek.”

“Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha.” Louis feigned a laugh in response to Mary’s bold remark—it seemed she had no intention of being discreet about her fondness for younger men.

Casting a glance at Monica, he continued. “In any case, my fellow Sage, it’s time for you to resign yourself and learn how to perform your more public duties.”

“Oh, come now. You needn’t be so harsh. Why, Monica is one of the few Sages who takes her work seriously!” Mary leaned forward and hugged Monica. The soft sensation and the smell of her perfume made Monica’s head swim. Rubbing her cheek against Monica’s, she exclaimed, “Thank you so much for your help recently calculating my students’ observation records! You’re a lifesaver!”

Back when Monica was holed up in her cabin, one of the tasks she’d accepted had been calculating the orbits of stars observed by the astronomers studying under Mary. It had been one of the most difficult jobs she’d taken on, but that only made it all the more worthwhile, and Monica remembered it well.

“I think, um…one of the star’s records went back ten years,” she remarked, bringing up something she’d been privately curious about. “The same one, calculated over and over. Did anything happen with it?”

Mary leisurely shook her head. “Nothing, unfortunately. The observational results and astrological readings just won’t stay consistent.”

The Starseer Witch could use a star’s color, the rate at which it twinkled, its orbit, and its distance from other stars to predict the futures of individuals and nations alike. Monica could perform calculations based only on the observational results—she had no idea how the numbers related to people’s fates. All she’d done was use those results to calculate orbits, then provided that information to Mary. But she knew the witch had been curious about one star in particular for quite some time.

“Um, so that star you’re so interested in… Whose fate does it represent?”

The hand carrying Mary’s wineglass to her lips stopped, and she sighed. The name she said next came as something of a surprise.

“The second prince, Felix Arc Ridill.”

Monica couldn’t help but gasp. Louis’s expression didn’t change, but his brows knit ever so slightly. Whether or not Mary noticed their reactions, she put a hand to her cheek and sighed sorrowfully.

“I pay particular attention to what the stars say about the future of the kingdom and the royal family… But for around ten years now, I have found Prince Felix’s fate alone unreadable.”

Mary’s readings of the stars weren’t all-powerful, nor were they all-seeing. But hearing Felix’s name come up now, specifically, caused a stir in Monica’s heart.

Casey’s assassination attempt. The intruder at the chess competition. After a string of unsettling events, the school festival still awaited them.

There’s that bad feeling again… Monica hung her head and clutched the fabric at her chest.

Mary peered into Monica’s face, still holding her in her arms. Mary’s pale blue eyes, faintly unfocused, reflected Monica like the surface of a serene lake.

“Um, Lady Harvey?”

“Oh, what a gloomy face you’re making! Hee-hee, I know! As thanks for helping me, how about I give you a reading?”

She slowly rose, then moved to the window, her thin silk dress trailing behind her. The sun had set during their conversation, and stars now twinkled faintly in the sky. Gazing at them, the foremost prophet of the kingdom read Monica’s fortune.

“You’re very lucky in love right now! You might even spend a passionate night with a wonderful gentleman!”

Monica hung her head, looking like she was about to throw up. She covered her face with her hands. “I don’t need any of that!” she wailed. After all, just the day before, someone had asked her to marry him for chess.

“That sounded more like a reading from a cheap psychic than a Sage’s prophecy,” murmured Louis, looking quite fed up.

After a short but pleasant chat, it was time to head out, and Mary got up from her seat, saying she was going to fix her makeup. Louis, seeing her exit the room, dismissed the servants and went to the window, opening it without asking anyone’s permission.

When he did, a small golden bird fluttered into the room, despite the late hour—it was Ryn. The bird flew around in a circle, then changed into a beautiful woman in a maid’s outfit. Now in human form, Ryn asked, “Have you enjoyed your debauchery, sir?” Neither her face nor her voice held a hint of emotion.

Louis frowned, his face twitching. “Please be sure you never say such a thing in front of my wife.” Leaving his pregnant wife at home to go out for “debauchery,” as she had phrased it, sounded terrible.

Ryn nodded earnestly at his sour look. “Yes, sir. Then I shall report to Lady Rosalie that you drank wine surrounded by attractive young men.”

“Clearly, I need to retrain you from scratch, you idiotic maid—starting with the way you talk. But first, to the task at hand. Bring the Starseer Witch and the Silent Witch to Corlapton. After that, stay with the Silent Witch. And when the festival is over, be sure to bring her back to Serendia Academy.”

“Of course, sir.”

As a shut-in, Monica had never felt much need for flight magecraft. Times like these, however, made her seriously reflect on how convenient it could be. She might not ever be able to flit around freely like Glenn could, but even a short flight here or there would be perfect for sneaking out of the dorm.

Maybe I should practice, she thought. She’d tried it out once at Minerva’s. The spell depended heavily on the caster’s physical abilities—mainly their sense of balance—but she’d wanted to experiment to see if she could supplement her shortcomings with a wind spell cast simultaneously.

To make a long story short, she’d failed. After floating up a little ways, she’d spun around one and a half times, then face-planted into the ground. In that moment, her hopeless motor skills had outstripped her perfect calculations. She didn’t really want to try it again, if she could help it.

As her face soured at the memory, Louis shut the window. “My fellow Sage,” he called out to her. The dark of night permeated the glass pane, reflecting Louis’s image like a mirror. His eyes were narrowed sharply. “I am somewhat troubled that the Starseer Witch can’t read the second prince’s fate.”

“…I agree.”

“The intruder from the chess competition is scheduled to be transferred to the capital soon. Once that happens, I’ll have free rein to investigate. I’ll make sure he gives me the name of the one pulling the strings, no matter what I have to do. There’s something about this intruder that’s got me rather curious,” he said, snapping his fingers through his glove.

Louis had delicate, handsome hands like most nobles, but Monica knew he had a callus at the base of his middle finger from punching. She privately pitied the criminal who would soon be in his charge.

“For now,” he continued, “I will be lending you this useless maid, so feel free to put her through the wringer.”

“Understood,” said Ryn. “I, Rynzbelfeid, a maid of utmost talent, will provide my assistance to the Silent Witch.”

Louis shot a glare at the insolent spirit, then lightly cleared his throat. “Also, I’ll be making an appearance on the day of the school festival. Partly for security, but… Let’s just say I have other things to do as well.”

Monica couldn’t imagine a more reliable helper, with Ryn able to cover a large area and Louis being so talented with barriers. She bowed her head in thanks.

“Well, just think of today as a little break before the big job,” said Louis, speaking gently for once. “Go enjoy yourself at the festival. Slacking—taking breaks is important. And anyway, today’s magical dedication will feature an ancient magic item. You like that stuff, right?”

“Wait! She’s using an ancient magic item?!” cried Monica despite herself. She leaned forward, her eyes sparkling.

By engraving a magic formula into some ore or metal, one could create a magic item that would allow even those without knowledge of magecraft to activate the formula. They were luxury items, produced by only a handful of artisans. Any such item created by one of the Seven Sages would be worth enough to build a house from scratch.

However, modern magic items could be imbued with only a limited amount of mana, as evinced by the Spiralflame, which Casey had used to try and assassinate Felix. It boasted immense power for a modern magic item but had a very small area of effect to compensate. You almost never saw a magic item created in this day and age that was more powerful than a mage in the flesh.

But ancient ones were different. They were created by mages of bygone eras, when magecraft was considered mystical and secretive—and they contained far, far more power than their modern counterparts. What’s more, they’d been created using ancient magical techniques, which were different from those in current use. It was said that even deciphering them was impossible, to say nothing of replicating one. Every mage wanted to see a powerful magic item with historic value at least once in their life, and Monica was no exception.

I’ve heard almost every ancient magic item still in existence is either regarded as a national treasure or under the management of high-ranking nobles… I can’t believe I might get to see one in use! Her heart leaped with excitement.

“Um, what sort of ancient magic item will be used tonight?”

“It’s an accessory called Starweaving Mira. It absorbs mana from the land, then releases it. In fact, the very reason I was called here was to undo its seal.”

Certain ancient magic items, especially very powerful ones, were placed under a seal that required state permission to open. Apparently, the Starseer Witch had called Louis here to release it.

“The seals on ancient magic items are first-rate barriers, right? I heard they’re really hard to undo…”

“That they are. Lest you forget, however, I am the Barrier Mage. Undoing the seal didn’t give me too much trouble in and of itself, but…” Louis trailed off, his gaze dropping to his feet. He looked a little weary. “You know how it’s said ancient magic items have minds of their own?”

“Y-yes. They have, um, personalities within, right?”

That was the single greatest difference between modern and ancient magic items. Ancient ones had a consciousness, and apparently, they would sometimes test their wielders. Monica was endlessly curious about how one might go about bestowing an item with a mind of its own.

As her eyes continued to sparkle, Louis’s gaze grew distant, and he murmured, “Starweaving Mira is one of those items with an interesting story—if its owner is male, it kills him.”

That sounded like a rather frightening tale.

“While I was doing adjustments on the seal, it tried to speak to me. Its personality makes a strong impression, that’s for sure. And let me tell you, it was grating on my nerves something awful…”

Monica was perplexed; Louis seemed far more exhausted than usual.

At this, Ryn chimed in flatly, “An ancient magic item that can wear down the famously shameless Lord Louis? That sounds interesting indeed.”

“You give me a headache, too, but Starweaving Mira did so in a rather different way. I’m going straight home to rest my mind.” Louis rose from the bench, picked up his staff, then sighed. “I need some Rosalie time…,” he muttered.

An indescribable pathos emanated from his retreating form.

Corlapton was a town located to the east of the royal capital and intended mainly for providing room and board to travelers. Due to its position along a major river, it saw high traffic on a regular basis, and on the night of the autumn festival, it was even livelier than usual. The people on the streets wore all manner of costumes, sporting furs and masks, and walked around the open-air stalls with bell-adorned staffs in their hands.

Amid the hustle and bustle was a man selling straw-work dolls from a blanket laid on the ground. He was probably in his mid-twenties, with pronounced features and a beard. He wore a bandanna around his short black hair, and his work clothes were covered with pockets. More pouches for tools hung from his belt.

“Argh.” He sighed. “Why isn’t anything sellin’? Guess I shoulda went with masks or staffs. Shoulda stuck with the basics. Too bad this was the only stuff I could get materials for on the cheap…”

The man sat cross-legged on the blanket as he muttered, one of the chronically underselling dolls in his hand. Just then, a little boy singing some song about counting pigs stopped at his blanket. The boy’s eyes were drawn to the straw rooster.

The seller put on a friendly smile and used an ingratiating voice. “Oh! You sure have an eye for quality, young man. This rooster was made by the great craftsman Bartholomeus himself. The gallant cockscomb is a thing of pure art, eh?”

“It’s so weird-looking!”

“What was that, you little brat?!” yelled the man, who was named Bartholomeus. The boy cackled, then fled into the crowds and disappeared.

“Damn stupid brat…,” the man swore to himself, lighting a cigar. The rooster he’d made was the best of the best, with a uniquely large cockscomb. A grand comb was the very symbol of a rooster. “Bigger is better,” he’d declared, ultimately making the comb so big it was a miracle the thing didn’t immediately topple over.

His other straw dolls were similar. One was a pig walking on two legs in a very strange pose. Another was a horse with which he’d tried so hard to convey the motion of jumping, it had ceased to be recognizable. He’d added so much stylistic embellishment, you couldn’t even tell they were pigs or horses.

The straw stitching was extremely elaborate—a display of technical skill. Unfortunately, the finished product was incomprehensible, and he couldn’t get anyone to buy them.

Bartholomeus exhaled smoke from his nose, thinking bitterly to himself, Damn it all. If only that idiot Moses hadn’t gotten himself arrested! I wouldn’t have needed to go on the lam like this!

Bartholomeus was what was called a jack-of-all-trades. But even jacks-of-all-trades couldn’t be good at everything—some were most comfortable swinging a sword around, while others specialized in drama and theater. As a has-been craftsman, Bartholomeus mainly took on jobs creating tools and fixing houses, which earned him a meager living. If it paid, he’d do anything from tuning musical instruments to repairing stables or even darning socks and polishing shoes. That was how he lived his life—from one trip to the next.

One of his recent jobs had been to replicate a company’s seal. His client had been a small-time villain named Moses well-known in these parts, and it was clear he wouldn’t be using the seal for anything legitimate.

Of course, Bartholomeus didn’t care what the stuff he made was used for. As long as it put money in his pocket, he’d make anything. That was his motto.

Apparently, Moses had used the company seal he’d made to try and sneak into Serendia Academy, of all things. He couldn’t think of many ideas more reckless than that. The second prince attended that school. Security was naturally strict, and if he got caught, he might be charged with treason against the crown on top of illegal entry. Not a very nice bonus, as far as Bartholomeus was concerned.

Come to think of it, he was really tryin’ to hurry me along on that one. Took it before I even put the tail on the bull. Really hope that’s not why he got arrested…

He didn’t know how much Moses had told the authorities after his capture, but Bartholomeus could see himself being considered a party to the crime. So he’d left his old base of operations in a hurry and fled to Corlapton.

With all the people coming in and out for the festival, this was the perfect place to hide, and a great place to do business. That was why he was trying to make it big with these straw dolls he’d worked so hard on. Unfortunately, sales were…lacking. At this rate, his traveling expenses would run dry.

“Guess that means it’s time for a big gamble.”

The cigar in his mouth bobbing up and down, Bartholomeus glared in the direction of the ceremony venue. The main event that night would be a magical dedication. He’d heard one of the Seven Sages would be there—and carrying an ancient magic item called Starweaving Mira to boot.

I’ll steal the item—no, I’ll just look at it! And then I’ll make replicas that’ll sell like hotcakes!

Ancient magic items were historical works of art, and common people almost never got a chance to see them. Creating souvenirs based on one’s appearance and selling them as good-luck charms or blessings of the Starseer Witch was sure to make him a fortune. Counterfeiting was a serious crime, but he figured he’d be fine selling cheap knockoffs as souvenirs.

It’s close—but not a crime. Damn, I’m a genius!

Ancient magic items were kept under strict lock and key, and even setting foot on the site where one was held was a crime. But Bartholomeus, who had an awfully unscrupulous attitude for a craftsman, was optimistic. He wasn’t going to steal it, so who cared?

“Ha-ha! Time to get on down there!”

He wasn’t sneaking in anywhere. He was just lost and happened to wander in. It wasn’t a crime. Definitely not a crime, Bartholomeus said to himself again, though it was, of course, a crime.

But Bartholomeus was the sort who always believed things would turn out all right for him in the end. So he packed up his straw dolls and started toward the ceremony venue in high spirits, his thoughts consumed by the ancient magic item he still hadn’t seen.