Secrets of the Silent Witch - Volume 6 - Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

An Offering to a Spirit

As the sun began to rise, the blues and purples of night gave way to the oranges of daybreak. And flying across that sky, midway between night and day, was a figure much larger than a bird.

It was the Barrier Mage Louis Miller, using flight magecraft, with the Silent Witch Monica Everett on his back.

Just as Louis wore a winter coat, Monica had avoided her Sage robes and her school uniform and had chosen a plain robe, along with a veil to hide her face.

Neither carried their staff. This mission was not official Sage business.

As Louis soared through the sky, Monica on his back, he kept his eyes forward. “Come to think of it, my fellow Sage, I heard you were in a magic battle with someone you knew from Minerva’s yesterday.”

He must be talking about Huberd Dee, thought Monica.

Monica’s shoulders dropped. She expected him to criticize her for doing something so conspicuous while on an undercover mission.

But when Louis spoke again, she heard admiration in his voice. “Silencing him with a magic battle was quite a good play. I’m impressed.”

“……”

Instead of criticism, she’d received a compliment.

“Um, actually, I wasn’t just trying to silence him…” Monica groped about in her mind, choosing her words carefully. She wanted to explain her emotions at the time, and the change they’d wrought in her. “When he did those terrible things to Glenn and the others, I got, um, really, really frustrated… So, um, I was angry. Yes, angry.”

Before, she’d thought she only felt that way when someone disrespected numbers or magecraft.

But Huberd Dee’s actions had made her furious, and in her anger, she’d lashed out with magecraft. It was just like on the night of the New Year’s holiday, when she’d threatened Duke Clockford with mental interference magecraft.

“Um, I know I shouldn’t have,” she said. “I’m a Sage. I shouldn’t be, um, using magecraft in anger…”

“What?” said Louis. “What’s the point of magecraft if you’re not using it on people who infuriate you?”

Monica got the feeling Louis was the wrong person to have this conversation with.

When she fell silent, Louis kept his eyes forward and added casually, “The only reason you never got angry before was because you didn’t care about anyone else.”

Monica flinched.

He was right. She’d loved math and magecraft to the exclusion of everything else, and that included both other people and herself. So nothing they did to her ever made her angry. She simply hadn’t cared.

“Good and evil aside, you used to beat up the bad guys without any emotions whatsoever. It was pretty creepy.”

“C-creepy… Creepy…?”

“I can see the forest. Let’s descend, shall we?”

Louis gently lowered the altitude of his flight spell. His technique was unbelievably stable, leagues better than Monica’s shaky attempts.

As they descended, Louis said, “Right now, I am angry at the Gem Mage.”

“……”

“And I wish you’d share that anger, even if just a little. Because how dare he do something so, so idiotic?!”

Earlier, in Monica’s dorm room, Louis had explained that the Gem Mage had secretly acquired an ancient magical item called Galanis, the Flute of the False King, and was gathering spirits in Kelielinden Forest.

Some ancient magical items could be used as weapons and were extremely dangerous. Even one could dramatically shift the balance of power between nations. For that reason, the government kept them under strict supervision. The use of those deemed especially dangerous was permitted only during times of dire emergency.

In total, the Kingdom of Ridill had possession of six.

Two were safely stored away in the palace’s treasure vault, while the other four had been entrusted to the care of various powerful individuals. Starweaving Mira, held by the Starseer Witch Mary Harvey, was one of those.

Galanis, the Flute of the False King, was not included in the six. It was believed lost, incinerated in the fires of war.

Of course, regardless of its history, to secretly possess such a dangerous item was a very serious crime.

Under normal circumstances, they should have reported the Gem Mage’s deeds to the proper authorities so he could be appropriately punished.

…But as Louis sat on Monica’s windowsill, his expression grave, he’d said, “We can’t let word of the Gem Mage’s deeds get out. It would damage the Sages’ reputation. We have to cover this up, no matter what.”

Such were the circumstances of corrupt adults.

Monica privately wondered if this was really the right way to go about things, but Louis flashed her a look like she was a stubborn child.

He continued, “You may not know this—you know little of politics, after all—but there have been movements within the Noble Assembly aimed at placing the Seven Sages under their own jurisdiction.”

The Seven Sages were second only to the king, and even the Noble Assembly couldn’t easily meddle in their affairs. If the Sages were put under their authority, they would lose the right to refuse the Assembly’s orders.

And as it happened, Duke Clockford, who had summoned Monica on the night of the New Year celebration, was the single most influential member of that assembly.

At the time, Monica had been able to refuse the duke’s request. But if the Seven Sages were placed under the Assembly’s jurisdiction, she would no longer have that power.

“What do you think would happen then if a Sage caused an issue? Why, the Noble Assembly would waste no time in stripping us of our authority.”

In other words, Louis wasn’t protecting the Gem Mage because he wanted to. He had to—in order to protect himself.

Louis recrossed his legs and rested one cheek on his fist. A twisted, sardonic grin formed on his face.

“And I know you don’t want the Assembly constantly coming to you and making you do busywork.”

“Mgh… I don’t.”

“Right. That’s why I want to resolve the Gem Mage matter in secret. We must keep this between us Sages.”

Louis explained that the Starseer Witch was already gathering up the other Sages.

Very few matters required all seven of them. But this was a grave issue—it threatened their very existence.

Monica raised her hand. “Um, so how are we going to fix it…?” she asked.

“In my opinion, it would be best if the Gem Mage were to simply disappear.”

Louis’s reply was as ominous-sounding as she’d expected.

When Monica froze, Louis sighed, his face the very picture of melancholy. “But the Starseer Witch wanted me to do things as peacefully as possible, so I decided to simply confiscate the item and teach him an only slightly painful lesson.”

Despite this, he’d still said they were going to hang the man.

What does he think peacefully means…? thought Monica. His definition certainly wasn’t the same as hers.

“Come on, now,” said Louis. “I’m not going to raise a hand against a decrepit old man on death’s door. A single punch would do him in.”

Oh, thought Monica. Thank goodness. It seemed even Louis had a human heart.

As she quietly sighed in relief, he flashed her a smooth, refreshing smile. “The Gem Mage appears to be accumulating a great number of homemade magical items in that forest villa of his—we just need to destroy them all. Without his toys, he’s nothing. Just a frail old man. Ha-ha-ha.”

While modern magical items paled in comparison to ancient ones, they were still luxuries. Some were worth as much as a house in the royal capital. And Louis was suggesting they destroy them? As Monica thought about the total cost of the damage, she began to tremble.

Louis dropped his smile. “But according to the Starseer Witch, our most important objective is to eliminate Galanis, the Flute of the False King.”

“…Huh? We’re supposed to destroy an ancient magical item, too?”

Such objects were essentially national treasures—tools you couldn’t put a price on. If Galanis was in a usable state, anyone would assume they should retrieve it unscathed.

“Why would we destroy such a valuable item?” asked Monica.

“Two reasons,” replied Louis. “The first is that ancient magical items have a mind of their own, so it’s possible this one might blab about the Gem Mage’s deeds. If that happens, there goes our secret.”

Monica thought back to Starweaving Mira, another ancient magical item she’d encountered a little while ago. It had the personality of a young woman, and while she could speak, her difficult temperament made meaningful communication close to impossible.

Monica wondered what sort of personality Galanis had. Could they possibly negotiate with it?

“The second reason is that Galanis is an extremely dangerous item. It could start wars all on its own. It won’t do any good, no matter who possesses it. The moment we see it, we must destroy it and collect what remains—and that’s final. Understood?”

Louis said all this in a tone so low and heavy that it made his invitation to go out and hang a man sound positively jovial.

Just as Monica and Louis alighted beside Kelielinden Forest, an owl swooped down from above. A tube was attached to its leg with a band; it was the Starseer Witch’s familiar.

Louis let the owl land on his arm, then took a tiny, rolled-up letter from the tube. As he stared at the paper, his slender brows shot up.

“Message from the Starseer Witch,” he said. “A large beast was seen entering the forest with what looked like a human dressed in white clothing on its back.”

At the mention of white clothing, Monica immediately thought of Serendia Academy’s uniform. Glenn and Cyril had been wearing it when they went missing.

Monica looked up at Louis and quickly asked, “The large beast—could it be a spirit in animal form?” She sounded unusually desperate. “Did the witness say whether the person was conscious or injured? Is there any more information—?”

“We still don’t know,” Louis said flatly, interrupting her. “But the time of the sighting matches. There is little doubt it’s our missing students.”

Glenn and Cyril were in the forest after all. Monica quietly clenched her fists.

Louis made a complex series of folds to the paper, then put it back in the tube. He didn’t have anything to write with, but the folds would convey his message. It looked to Monica like he was expressing understanding and acknowledgment.

Louis released the owl back into the sky. “We don’t know why they’d be traveling with a spirit…but at least now we have a direction.” As he watched the creature go, he redonned his sturdy leather gloves and turned to Monica. “Let’s go over the mission one last time. Our first task is to secure the missing boys. Quickly, before they learn about the ancient magical item.”

Monica was privately relieved that Louis was treating Glenn’s and Cyril’s safety as their top priority. She’d been certain he would say his apprentice could manage on his own. And maybe he would have, had Cyril not been involved.

“Once they’re safe, our next goal is to destroy Galanis, the Flute of the False King, and all other magical items in the Gem Mage’s possession.”

He narrowed his eyes and glared into the Kelielinden Forest.

Though the winter trees bathed in morning light were missing most of their leaves, Louis and Monica couldn’t see very far. Not only was the forest as big as a town, its terrain was uneven. It would take a good deal of time to search the whole thing.

“Your role is to be a distraction,” continued Louis. “This forest is the Gem Mage’s backyard. We don’t know what sort of traps he might have lying around.”

The Gem Mage was a genius at crafting magical items. It was highly likely he’d placed some around the forest imbued with attack spells like Spiralflame. In addition, he could use Galanis’s power to control spirits and have them patrol the woods.

Instead of attempting a frontal assault, it would be more prudent to have one of them draw the enemy’s attention, creating an opening for the others to attack.

“I’ll leave the method up to you,” said Louis. “There are no settlements or roads around here, so feel free to make it flashy. Within reason, of course.”

“…Um, I understand.”

In truth, Monica wanted to go looking for Cyril and Glenn, too. But she couldn’t risk exposing her identity.

To carry out this plan, the Sages would form teams to enter the forest, secure Cyril and Glenn, and destroy Galanis. The Barrier Mage would go with the Artillery Mage, while the Abyss Shaman accompanied the Witch of Thorns. The last of them, the Starseer Witch, wasn’t a fighter, so she would be standing by outside the forest.

“According to the literature, while Galanis can control spirits, its powers don’t extend to spirit kings,” Louis explained. “So if need be, you may summon one.”

“Um, even if it can’t interfere with spirit kings, can it still, umm…?”

Louis quickly picked up on what Monica was trying to say and nodded. “Yes, it appears it can control high spirits. Ryn has likely fallen into enemy hands. If you encounter her, I suspect she will attack you without hesitation.”

Monica tensed. A high wind spirit like Ryn could control her element without chanting and had a staggeringly high mana capacity. Even one of the Seven Sages would have a hard time disabling her.

“If she does, you may beat her into the dust. If you wind up eliminating her, I will simply regard it as inevitable. Please do as you must.”

Louis said all this easily, as if it were nothing.

This troubled Monica. If Ryn was destroyed, she wouldn’t come back. Voice full of consternation, she said, “Um, but Miss Ryn is still your contracted spirit, so…”

“Only because our interests align. She’s responsible for her own actions in this situation. I won’t begrudge you for destroying her.”

The ease with which Louis said this made Monica wonder how the two of them ended up forming a contract in the first place.

As she stood there confused, Louis’s expression turned serious. “The Gem Mage’s offensive magecraft is second-rate at best. But he is beyond first-rate when it comes to crafting magical items. In recent years, with Duke Clockford as his patron, he’s even imbued some with advanced attack spells… He may have multiple items on the level of Spiralflame. Keep that in mind.”

Louis and the Gem Mage weren’t on good terms, but it seemed the Barrier Mage still respected his talents as a craftsman. Spiralflame—the item used in the failed assassination attempt against the second prince—was probably the most powerful magical item made in modern times. It had penetrated even Monica’s defensive barrier.

Only the Gem Mage would possess multiple magical items with that kind of power. He had an incredible talent for imbuing massive amounts of mana.

During the duel, Huberd Dee had used homemade magical items to shoot flame arrows at her. But next to the work of a Sage, they were like toys. Their rate of fire was excellent, but the strength of each shot paled in comparison.

Monica tensed.

“Be ever vigilant,” warned Louis.

“…Right.”

From here on out, Monica would be acting on her own. Louis would use flight magecraft to move away and join up with the Artillery Mage.

Just then, Monica remembered something she’d wanted to confirm. “Um, Mr. Louis,” she said. “I know I’m just a diversion. But if I happen to run across the Gem Mage, do you want me to capture him?”

“You needn’t bother. Even if we catch him, we can’t turn him in. And he’ll probably die if you punch him.”

“……”

“Break all his vaunted magical items, watch as he miserably turns tail and flees, then point and laugh uproariously at him.”

“……”

“Ah, I can’t wait to see him dare to show his pathetic face at the next Sages’ meeting! Ah-ha-ha!”

They were trying to stop a colleague who had committed a major crime, and yet Monica felt like they were the villains.

As far as she was concerned, neither party had justice on their side. That much was certain.

Soft singing drifted into Glenn’s ears as he slept beneath a blanket of dry grass and dead leaves.

It was so quiet, so gentle, that the faint rustling of the leaves nearly drowned it out. The voice reminded Glenn of home, and the tender melody, like a lullaby sung to children, tickled his ears.

“Today, too, I have thread in my hands—and I pull them and weave them, thinking of you—and I pull them and weave them, thinking of you…”

Glenn cracked open his eyes. Next to him, sitting on the ground, was a figure surrounded by flickering lights. The lights swirled and spun in tune with the music, like children dancing in joy.

Glenn continued to watch, still drowsy, until the voice weaving the gentle melody transformed into a shrill shout he found much more familiar.

“Glenn Dudley! If you are awake, then hurry up and get ready!”

“Oh, hey, VP… Mornin’…”

Glenn sat up, scattering the pile of dead leaves, and looked around, rubbing his eyes.

Morning light shone into the cave. Next to Cyril was the nameless ice spirit in the guise of a young boy. Low spirits drifted all around them.

Sezhdio, the earth spirit that looked like a large wolf, sat still against the stone wall.

“VP… That song…,” mumbled Glenn, still tired.

Cyril’s gaze drifted along the ground awkwardly. “Uh, that was… The wind spirits here went to find us breakfast, so I thought I’d thank them, and…”

Next to Cyril was a row of big leaves, piled high with berries. Apparently, the low spirits drifting around the cave had gathered all this for them.

Cyril smiled as a small light came to rest on the back of his hand. “It must have been difficult to find this much in the winter,” he said. “Thank you.”

He’s so conscientious, thought Glenn.

The two of them had been kidnapped and forced into helping these spirits. And yet Cyril made sure to thank the low spirits for gathering berries for their breakfast and had even sung for them in return.

Wind spirits were said to like songs as offerings. Cyril’s had apparently pleased them greatly. The ice spirit smiled at Glenn. “Good morning, Glenn.”

“Mornin’, Mr. Ice Spirit. Is there any water to drink?”

“Sure is. I just drew some.”

Next to Ice Spirit was a washtub made of ice filled with clear water. The spirit must have created the tub. Beside it were two simple bowls, each made from one half of a large tree nut. Glenn used one to scoop up some water and drank.

The ice had made it cold—a little too cold to be drinking on a winter morning—but it did wonders to soothe his dry throat.

“Should I thank you for the water, too?” Glenn wondered aloud. “Um, what kind of offerings do ice spirits like again…?”

Ice Spirit looked troubled and shook his head. “I can’t accept any offerings. I’d rather you sing some more songs for the little ones. It’s been a long time since they’ve heard one. They’re all very happy.”

The little orbs of light flickered, as if to agree. Glenn sat down beside Ice Spirit and wrapped his arms around his knees. Apparently, he planned on listening, not singing.

This irritated Cyril, but Ice Spirit’s expectant eyes won him over in the end. Reluctantly, he began to sing.

“Little bird, little bird,

When Shelgria takes away the leaves,

Hide for me the last of autumn, deep down in Haryenisida.

I’ll admire it till yellow flowers bloom.

“Little bird, little bird,

When Alteria swings and rings its chimes,

Show to me the last of autumn, deep down in Haryenisida.

I’ll hold it close in the e’er silent snow.

“Little bird, little bird,

Until Romalia closes tight its eyes,

Bring to me the last of autumn, deep down in Haryenisida.

I’ll sing of it till spring does wake anew.”

Cyril’s voice as he sang was so soft and gentle that it was hard for Glenn to believe he was the same person always yelling at him. The vice president reached all the high notes without his voice breaking and tenderly stirred his listeners’ emotions.

Next to him, the low spirits flickered; their light reflected off his silvery hair, making it glisten.

The song’s lyrics mentioned Shelgria, Alteria, and Romalia, the spirits representing winter in Ridill. Their names were also used in the calendar. Shelgria invited winter in, Alteria rang the chimes, and Romalia made blizzards into lullabies. Many stories were associated with each of them, such as the myth behind the Alteria chimes Glenn had rung shortly before winter break.

Glenn eyed the ice spirit as he listened to the song. The boy seemed somehow entranced as he watched Cyril.

“Ice Spirit.”

As soon as the song was done, the wolf sitting against the cave’s wall spoke up. He was glaring at the boy with his sunset-colored eyes. “Will you not demand an offering?” he asked, his voice low and rumbling.

“Not when we’re…the ones asking for help, Sezh,” Ice Spirit chided.

One couldn’t tell a spirit’s age from their appearance. Glenn wondered how old the ice spirit was. He might be even older than the wolf.

“I am in no position…to demand an offering.” The boy was calm and spoke with firm clarity.

After hearing their exchange, Cyril glanced at the dead leaves on the ground. “You were the one who gathered all the leaves and grass so we wouldn’t freeze, right?”

“That’s right. I don’t have…the power to keep humans warm…”

“But you still kept us from freezing. Thank you. If there’s anything I can do to show my gratitude, just say the word.”

Clearly, Cyril thought it was only proper to demonstrate his thanks to both the wind spirits and the ice spirit.

And all this despite having been kidnapped.

Gotta hand it to the VP. He’s so earnest, even with spirits…

Ice Spirit looked down, unsure of how to react. The cloak hiding his limbs swayed restlessly.

Eventually, he spoke. “A flower.”

“You want a flower?” asked Cyril.

Ice Spirit nodded. “If you find a flower, please freeze it and bring it to me. That’s the offering ice spirits like.”

“I see. Very well. If I find one in the forest, I will freeze it for you.”

Ice Spirit still looked troubled, but he thanked Cyril anyway.

Sezhdio patted the ground with his thick front paw as if to hurry them along. “Enough talking. Eat, then do something about the man with the flute, human.”

Cyril responded with a difficult expression. “That’s the plan, of course… But we can’t do anything just yet.”

“What’s this? Trying to stall for time, are you? Could you be friends of the man with the flute?” The wolf’s voice was hostile.

“Sezh!” exclaimed Ice Spirit.

Cyril didn’t seem offended, though. He spoke his next words as if they should be patently obvious. “It’s too early. It would be rude to barge in on him at this hour. We must be respectful and choose an appropriate time to visit.”

The two spirits both fell silent.

Glenn stifled a laugh. Man, the VP really is something else.

Cyril must have been the most earnest, serious, stubborn person in all of Serendia Academy. Apparently, he even planned to treat the man with the flute, the cause of this whole mess, with utmost respect.

“Well, then!” said Glenn. “I’m raring to go. Let’s wrap this up and get back to…school…” Glenn trailed off. He’d just remembered what they were doing when the spirits brought them to this forest. “…Oh, right. We lost the magic battle, didn’t we?”

Huberd Dee had defeated them in a duel, with Monica as the prize.

Cyril nodded, clearly upset. “I’m worried about Accountant Norton. Once this matter is resolved, we will return at once.”

“Yes, sir!”