[73] Dream On (2)
About ten children sat at the table as Lumina's mother generously served heaping portions of boiled meat.
Shirone felt uneasy. Preparing this much food must have cost a fair amount. Paying wasn't the issue, but it still felt odd.
Altor, as if reading his thoughts, said, "Don't worry. Monster hide sells well. We'll start processing it tomorrow. Of course, I'll get your permission first."
"Huh? No—of course. You should. Oh, and the monster's name is Ulk. I heard the claws and fangs fetch a good price."
Shirone expected he'd agree. Hearing that other parts would sell too meant the income would be larger than he'd anticipated.
More than anything, he was glad to learn the monster's name.
In this world, knowledge is currency.
If they'd put it on the market without even knowing the name, they'd be taken advantage of. They might lose far more than the effort spent skinning it.
"I see. Anyway, thank you. Not just for Ulk—if it weren't for you, our village would've had to move elsewhere."
For people who'd farmed the fields and sold mountain goods for generations, losing their land was a terrifying prospect. In that sense, Shirone was the village's savior.
"It's fine. This place matters to me too."
Shirone meant it sincerely. Even though Ulk's meat would rot and be unsellable after a while, the children had stayed instead of going up the mountain.
They weren't wealthy. Life was harder—there were more reasons for them to be ashamed than nobles—but he liked that they knew how to live together.
Martin chewed around a bite of meat and said, "Sorry our hard-earned holiday turned out like this. How about we go up the mountain together tomorrow? Sell the hide, claws, everything, and use the money to have some fun."
If there was any play to be had, the kids of the farming settlement never missed out, but Shirone shook his head with regret. He wanted to get back as soon as possible and analyze the insight he'd gained.
"No. I've rested enough. I feel recovered. Now I have to study hard. I'll go back to the Magic Academy tomorrow morning."
* * *
After dinner, the children returned to their homes. The moon was up, but they still had work to do—sharpening tools and checking carts through the night.
Shirone climbed the hill and looked down at the settlement. The children carried torches and went from house to house preparing for tomorrow's work. Watching them joke and chatter, a small smile formed at the corner of his mouth.
"Shirone, you were here."
"Huh? Altor, how did you find me?"
"I just figured you'd be here. What were you thinking about? You didn't even notice I came."
"Old memories. When I came with my father I used to run around a lot. We'd play tag out in the fields."
"Right. But you still spent a lot more time reading. Maybe because of us."
"No. That's because I just liked books…"
Altor broke into an easy grin.
"No need to lie. It wouldn't make sense if you didn't. Kids have admired you forever. I was jealous a lot of times. Looking back now, I'm sorry in more ways than one."
"No, I was the strange one. Maybe I was afraid to meet people. It was a confusing time."
In the settlement Shirone was the pride of parents, the child who never caused trouble. Yet in truth, ever since he'd encountered magic at twelve, it had been endless torment and worry.
Altor nodded as if he'd guessed. He'd seen Shirone's magic today and pieced it together.
The boy who'd seemed ignorant and bookish was fighting harder than anyone else.
"I'm sorry, Shirone."
"It's okay."
"No, not that. At the drinking party—I said something presumptuous. Everyone has their limits. That was my mistake. Don't hold it in."
Shirone recalled Altor's sharp words from last night. They hadn't hurt him; it was a burden he'd chosen when he chose magic.
"I don't think that. To be honest, I'd never really thought about how blessed I am. How lucky."
"No, Shirone. You worked hard. That's why others help you."
"But the fact is the fact. What you said is my reality, and it's something I'll carry for the rest of my life."
Altor gave a bitter smile. No one in the farming settlement could criticize themselves the way Shirone did.
"Being a mage is something else."
Mage thinking was incomprehensible. But that was probably why people revered them.
Shirone and Altor looked down over the settlement. They didn't say anything, but their gazes rested on the same place.
* * *
The next morning, the adults were already up at dawn starting their day's work; only the children remained.
Shirone ate breakfast at Lumina's house and then set out.
The kids saw him off, but they were all loaded down with the tools they'd use to dismember Ulk.
In a life with no days off, Shirone was reminded how heavy the path he'd chosen truly was.
"Take care, Shirone. Study hard. Become a mage."
Altor reached out to shake his hand. The other children crowded around to say goodbye.
"Shirone, you'll come visit again, right?"
"When you come back tell us all about the Magic Academy."
"Ha! I will. After the term ends. You all take care."
After the farewells, Shirone looked back at Lumina. Even amid the cheerful atmosphere, her face was dark.
Shirone had a vague sense of Lumina's feelings. But what could he do? Matters of the heart aren't solved by thinking alone.
"Lumina, thanks for all the good food. Will you make it again?"
Lumina finally smiled. It was a serene smile—she knew asking for more would be greedy.
"Of course! So visit often. If you pretend you don't know me when you're a mage, I'll beat you up."
"Yeah. I'll definitely come back."
Descending the settlement path, Shirone suddenly looked back and shouted to the children who were still there.
"Everyone, stay well! Be healthy!"
When Shirone turned and walked away, Lumina let her head fall helplessly. What made her sadder than his leaving was the realization that she could no longer let herself love him.
"Hey, are you okay?"
Altor put a hand on Lumina's shoulder. She couldn't hold back and began to cry. Altor felt strangely upset. He'd suspected Lumina's feelings for Shirone since they were kids, but he hadn't realized how serious they were.
"Tch, if you're that upset, say something. Should I go beat him up and bring him back?"
"No, it's okay. He isn't gone."
Lumina wiped her tears with both hands and lifted her head. A clear smile returned to her lips.
"Shirone's going after his dream."
Lumina prayed to the mountain and forest spirits.
May warm light accompany the road he walks.
* * *
On his way back to the Academy, Shirone thought about the questions the settlement had left him with.
How far can I go?
Being taken in as a guest of the Ozent family, studying with the students at the Magic Academy—none of that guaranteed achievement.
Telling a peasant like him to learn from failure and steadily improve didn't apply.
He had to keep producing results without rest. He had to develop without hesitation.
He attended the school with Ozent support and studied the high-level discipline of magic thanks to his parents' sacrifice.
Was this really the right path?
If he failed, could he accept it and go back to living like before?
At the Academy, Shirone headed to the research club. His mind was restless; he didn't feel like returning to the dorm.
'Are they having fun? I hope they didn't lose too much…'
By now Iruki and Nade were probably gambling wildly at a flashy casino. He silently hoped they hadn't staked the deed to the house.
Passing through Istas' Maze, Shirone entered the warehouse where the research club met and froze at the iron door. Voices leaked through the crack.
"Huh?"
He opened the door to find Iruki and Nade sitting on a sofa, arguing. Iruki was more excited than Shirone had ever seen him.
"You idiot! A perpetual motion engine is impossible!"
"Why're you so closed-minded? I'm not talking about perpetual motion—this is a perpetual device of the second kind!"
"That violates the law of entropy!"
"Then what is this? What about this one I built!"
Nade pointed to a wind-up cart on the table. It was more like a wheeled metal box than a carriage.
"Uh… that—"
Nade turned to Shirone and, cutting to the chase, lifted the cart and shook it in front of him.
"Shirone! Tell me what you think. I made this. You wind the spring like this and then set it down on the floor…!"
The cart moved in a circular motion. And yet the wound spring didn't unwind.
Iruki narrowed his eyes and jabbed a finger. "Hey, Shirone! Don't be fooled. That thing's a scam!"
"What's a scam? You kept waiting for it to stop until you gave up and that's why you're arguing with me now!"
"You idiot! If it only runs for an hour or two, anybody could make it. What you built is just a high-efficiency machine! I tried winding the spring and it was painfully stiff!"
"So what? It's a miniature with limits. Make it bigger and the performance will be a hundred times better!"
"How big are you gonna make it? As big as the sky? Feeding a horse and having it pull the thing would be far more efficient!"
"You just need to show possibility! Technology moves toward weight reduction over time!"
"Technology without theory backing it will collapse!"
"Theory's useless! Build it and use it—that's what matters!"
Both the mathematician and the engineer had valid points. Shirone blinked and listened, then examined the cart.
Seeing them heated over a seemingly useless cart made his earlier worries unexpectedly lift.
"Oh… I see."
Someday that wind-up cart would be refined through many researchers' efforts and be reborn under a respectable name. And someone would build new knowledge from it.
How arrogant to think only I could do something. He hadn't come this far because he was exceptional.
If his father hadn't bought him books, if he hadn't joined the Ozent household, if there hadn't been a teleportation test, if he hadn't met Iruki and Nade…
Shirone as he was now wouldn't exist.
A chain of tiny coincidences. All those events had led him here.
"Thank you. For letting me be here."
Shirone, briefly moved by private gratitude, quickly wiped the feeling away and asked his friends, "By the way, how did the casino go?"
Nade, who'd been cheek-to-cheek with Iruki, turned his head with an aggrieved expression.
"What do you mean how it went. We came back cleaned out in a day. If only we'd had one more bet, we could've hit the jackpot."
"That's why I said it would be the spade. There's a 57 percent chance."
"Ridiculous! Listening to you, we lost a lot! 57 percent my foot! How is that any different from pure luck?"