[88] The Crowd (4)
Anyone in the magical world could tell at a glance that Alpheas was a man chosen by the gods. The problem was that his talent showed itself at any time, in any place.
Once a debate started, he saw it through to the end, and if his opponent made even the smallest mistake, he would pick at it relentlessly until he forced an admission.
Only Klump really understood that Alpheas meant no malice. He wasn't arrogant so much as sincere—his zeal simply exhausted people.
In truth, if Alpheas was in the wrong, he would admit it without rancor and sincerely congratulate the victor.
The issue was that such occasions were rare.
Bored even while waiting for his beer, Alpheas wandered from table to table making conversation. Klump watched him with worried eyes, afraid he'd cause trouble again, but seemed to have given up trying to restrain him and just shook his head.
"Sarof! Came to wet your whistle in broad daylight?"
Sarof raised both hands in greeting. A native of the capital, he was one of Alpheas's few rivals. Though he lost to Alpheas in debates every time, most agreed that if not for Alpheas, Sarof would be the brightest prospect in the photon discipline. Naturally he was sour, but Alpheas strode over as if it meant nothing.
"Oh, right. Sarof—didn't you submit a paper to the palace this time? I skimmed it. Very interesting."
"What? Why were you reading my paper?"
"Isn't it obvious? I study photons too, and the royal scribe is one of my ardent followers. Anyway, nice work."
"R-really? What did you think?"
Among young mages, nothing was higher than having your paper accepted and being placed in a royal magic bureau. Once accepted, the state funded your private lab and covered all research costs; for a mage that was a crowning honor.
Sarof had submitted the work he'd poured his life into just a week ago, and of course he wanted his rival Alpheas's opinion.
"You nailed the properties of light. Flawless. The section on energy concentration—I have to admit, that surprised me."
Sarof's face lit up at once. But Alpheas didn't let it rest.
"However, there's one error. The wave nature of light—you're plainly wrong there."
"What are you talking about? The wave nature of light has been verified experimentally."
"That may be, but my view differs. Recent experimental results leave far too many things unexplained by waves alone. Light might very well be more particle-like."
"Hmph! Alpheas, now you're scraping the barrel with gossip because you can't win this one? Plenty of critics have already pointed out flaws in the particle experiments! If light were particles, how do you explain waves? They're entirely different concepts!"
Whether light was a particle or a wave was the hottest issue of Alpheas's era. Wave theory was dominant, but a minority of scholars kept up their objections, and Alpheas was among them.
"Do you trust those critics so blindly? I've seen reports claiming to have found flaws in the particle experiments too. But their approach wasn't scientific. Isn't that the real error?"
Drunk, Sarof slammed the table and stood. He'd been sleepless from the paper's stress; Alpheas was basically throwing gasoline on the fire.
"That's enough! Who asked you to evaluate my paper? If you're so confident, write one and submit it! Use that shoddy logic of yours to make the world laugh!"
"I'm only saying this because I'm worried. Even if it fails now, you can strengthen it later. What matters isn't the paper, it's discovering the truth."
Sarof could no longer contain himself. What he really wanted to say was, "You failed this time," wasn't it?
"Get lost! I'm done speaking to you!"
Alpheas smacked his lips and returned to his table. He believed debates with a rival in the same field were mutually beneficial, so he didn't look particularly offended.
Klump, however, worried about Alpheas.
They'd first met at Vashka's inn. Klump had also come up from Creas, so the provincial students stuck together; it had been a year since they'd been inseparable.
Honestly, Klump admitted, Alpheas was obnoxious. Even Klump, a swordsman, felt that way—imagine how much worse it must be for other competing mages.
"Alpheas, what are you, a street brawler? If someone can't do something, why do you have to step in and fix it?"
"What do you mean 'someone else'? Wrong must be corrected. That's what intellect is."
"Oh come on. Do you know what people call you? 'Arrogant Alpheas.' That's your nickname these days."
"Ha! I like that. Better than that cringe 'Mirhi's Light' nickname."
Magic is the realm of talent, and Alpheas had more than enough. He didn't see humility as anything but a show—talent would shine regardless.
"It's the fate of geniuses. Well, well—don't worry so much and drink. Hey, Rafne. Make sure the snacks are good. This friend eats more than a bear."
"Heehee! If Master Alpheas wishes it, I'll bring whatever he desires!"
Rafne, a tavern maid, gazed at him with starry eyes. She seemed completely smitten. Alpheas treated every woman as if she were a lover, and the thought made Klump's head throb.
That didn't mean he was in a deep romance. He flirted shallowly and missed chances—many a man had been spurned. Even beyond magic, to the men here Alpheas was a public enemy.
"Now Rafne too? Go have a proper relationship for once. What are you even thinking?"
"Hoho, you know I'm everyone's darling. I'm not even hitting on them. They just melt at my killer smile."
Alpheas touched his jaw and grinned. He was undeniably handsome in a way that drove women wild.
Would that smile really work? Klump, who'd never had luck with women, tried it experimentally and lifted the corners of his mouth.
"Well? Do I look like I have a killer smile too?"
"Oh, yes! That's a proper killer smile. A murderer's grin. Puhahaha!"
"You want to die?"
"Hahaha! I'm joking. It actually looked pretty good. Use that smile at the party later. The women'll fall for it."
"Party? Do I really have to go? I'm not a mage, you know."
That evening the Bastard household was hosting a party for young mages. Though not a family closely tied to magic, nobles often threw parties for all sorts of reasons to assert their prestige.
"There's no rule saying only mages can come. People from all walks of life will be there, so you should network. Talent matters, but so do connections."
"It's funny hearing that from you."
"What can I do? You've got to climb high to spread your ideas. Anyway, you're coming with me. Who knows—you might meet your other half."
Brimming with ambition for the sword, Klump had no interest in networking. But the last line tugged at him.
Who could say? Maybe a provincial swordsman would fall for a sophisticated city maiden.
Klump suddenly broke into a fit of coughing.
"Ahem ahem! Shall we take a look around, then?"
* * *
The Bastard mansion, one of the capital's richest households, was ostentatious up to the edge of what the law allowed—no noble residence was supposed to outshine the palace.
Three hundred crystal chandeliers stitched the ceiling of the hall, and marble tables edged with gold leaf were laden with delicacies from across the globe.
To the musicians' playing, nobles danced with partners. Off to one side, elderly politicians sipped wine and chatted.
"Hello? I'm Ozent Klump. Are you alone?"
"Eek!"
A woman shrieked and darted away the moment she saw Klump. Who wouldn't be startled by a man who looked like a cattle thief and smiled like a pervert? It truly was a killer smile. Klump froze in shock while Alpheas burst out laughing and clapped him on the back.
"Puhahaha! You actually tried it? Oh my, my sides."
"Damn it! I was a fool to trust you. By the way, where have you been all this time?"
"Pretty ladies wouldn't stop talking to me. I went over to keep them company."
Klump turned to look where Alpheas pointed. A circle of urbane city women were casting glances at Alpheas, their faces flushed.
"Dammit. Seems your back's better-looking than my front. They're all watching you."
"Haha! Don't mind it. Isn't that how it goes? Since we're here, let's gorge ourselves."
There were delicacies Klump had never seen in the provinces, and he'd been looking forward to them. Now that he was unencumbered by company, he decided to eat without worrying about women and headed to the table, earning a snort from Alpheas. He liked this simple, straightforward friend.
While Klump devoured food greedily, Alpheas sweated through greeting nobles every five minutes. When even the head of the Bastard family personally paid a call, all eyes turned to Alpheas.
"Good to meet you. You must be the rising star, Alpheas."
"Honored that you recognize me. This is a splendid party—thank you for inviting me."
"Ha! It pleases me to associate with young minds. Come often."
"It would be my pleasure to attend whenever called."
"Very well. Enjoy yourself."
Though brief, the exchange was a great favor: the head of the Bastard family had said more than a few words to a mage just beginning his social life.
Satisfied, Alpheas turned back and saw Klump shoveling meat into his mouth with an absurd expression. It was clearly how he vented his unchecked vigor.
"Does your jaw never get tired? Where does all that food go?"
Klump chewed and pointed to his biceps. Alpheas shook his head and turned back. He felt the gazes of many women but found them dull. Lips trembling with boredom, he scanned for something interesting and was struck by a woman darting between tables across the hall.
"Huh?"
His first thought: she was definitely not a mage. She wore no gypsy garb but a plain dress, and most strikingly, she refused the short hair that symbolized intellect—her black hair fell down to her waist. One hand held a plate, the other a fork; she hopped about, utterly unsuited to the formal, dignified atmosphere.
"Oh? That woman—she's the head's eldest daughter, right?"
Klump's remark piqued Alpheas's interest. He kept his gaze fixed on the woman and asked, turning only his head.
"The head's eldest?"
"You came to a party without knowing that? You really lack manners."
"I didn't know. Fine, explain."
"Her name's Erina Bastard. She's nineteen. The only real troublemaker in the Bastard family."
"Troublemaker? Haha, is she tempestuous?"
"No. She's a bit slow."
Only then did Alpheas glance back at Klump. That sounded about right—the bear-like fellow he'd met in Vashka wasn't the sort to tell cruel jokes.