Chapter 45 - Strangers

“Argh…”

Azriel held on to a bedpost and barely managed to support herself. She caught her breath for a while, leaning against the bedpost. Unlike her face that had turned pale, her golden eyes peeking through the disheveled hair sparkled clearly. She came to know so many things, yet she wanted to know more–about magic, about Rhema, about herself, and what happened when she was ten. She could only decide when she learned about them. She needed to know before she could take an action.

Azriel glanced at the back of her hands. She could not see the white knot-like pattern that was formed when she made a promise to Rhema. It was not just invisible to the eye. There was no trace of mana left. ‘That promise must’ve been broken.’ She bit her lip and forcibly raised her body that did not have much strength. Straightening up her back, she approached the table. There was a warm meal prepared by the spirit. A lump of light flew in as if it was delighted and opened the lids of containers. Grabbing the spoon, she thanked the spirit. “Thank you for the food.”

She was not hungry at all, but she needed to fill her stomach. She quickly began emptying the containers with food that were easily digestible. After drinking tea, she walked around the room a little. It seemed that it would take some time until her body could recover to normal condition. “How long did I sleep?” The spirit moved in the shape of the number ‘1.’

“I slept for the whole day?” it nodded at her question. She lightly sighed. “What about Rhema?… Oh, you don’t know.” If he were to be gone for a long time, he would have left a familiar spirit. Blanchet was on a different duty, but there was still Noir or Largo. He must have gone out for a short time. ‘Since Blanchet is kind in petto, I probably won’t have to worry about Maylie.’

“I want to wash.” At her request, the spirit guided her to the bathroom. Familiarly served by the spirit, Azriel washed and changed the clothes. While doing so, she looked at the mirror. The scars that filled her back like a spider web were completely gone. There was no trace left and she could only see her soft skin. ‘When was this treated?’ It was probably Rhema. Did he heal it while she was asleep? Azriel’s face turned red thinking that she exposed her back unknowingly. She sighed.

Rhema was still not back even after she finished washing. ‘Maybe this is a good thing. I have to remember everything quickly.’ It was impossible to revive the past memory while she was awake. Soon, she got on the bed that was made by the spirit and lay down. ‘I slept all day, what if I can’t sleep?’ Overshadowing her concern, her consciousness drifted as soon as she closed her eyes.

***

It only took about a year for Azriel to almost master conjuring. Her Lemm text was perfected already. As she no longer needed to learn letters, Rhema taught other things at the time. They were the things like history, math, and geography, which were high-class knowledge that noble people learned. Among them, he selected the contents that were beneficial to wizards and taught her.

Rhema also taught her a different thing. It was an attitude to have confidence instead of arrogance and to not undermine herself. He did not teach it intentionally. It automatically happened as he merely listened to her whatever she said and answered seriously, treated her more valuable than anyone else, and taught her knowledge and magic. Azriel no longer considered herself a useless, cursed being. Just like that, time went by.

ACT 3: Crossroads and Choice

In 990 of Iskam Year, the spring of age ten, a girl whom Azriel became close with invited her to her birthday party. Azriel wanted to give her a gift. All she had was given by Rhema. She did not get any allowance separately. Azriel agonized over how to provide a gift on her own for a few days. What she decided eventually was to make a cake using eggs that she collected in the yard and fruits that she picked in the forest.

Of course, there was no way for young Azriel to make a cake properly. She asked the spirit for help. Even with the spirit’s help, it was not an easy task. Magic was as easy as breathing but making a cake felt like the most difficult job in the world. Then she turned over a bowl. As it made a noise, Rhema entered the kitchen.

“What are you doing, Azriel?”

Looking around the messy kitchen in a flurry, he looked at Azriel whose face was covered with cream and flour and the spirit that was circling around anxiously, in turn.

“I, I’m sorry. I’ll clean it up with the spirit later,” Azriel answered.

“I’m not trying to scold you. Why are you doing this?”

“I was going to make a cake…”

“Did you want to eat a cake? Didn’t the spirit listen?” Rhema leered at the spirit. His look suggested that he would get rid of it anytime. The spirit nervously shook. Azriel quickly explained. “No, it’s not that I wanted to eat it, I wanted to give it to Hannah as a birthday gift. I was invited to a birthday party.” She, who was explaining hard, lifted her head as if she had thought of something. It was an excited face. “Oh, when is your birthday, Rhema?”

Rhema’s face turned strange. He looked down at her as if he was looking at something unfamiliar. “My… birthday. I don’t remember because it’s been too long.”

“Still, how can you forget your birthday, Rhema?”

“I think it was in the winter.” Rhema, who was vacantly responding to her, murmured as if he had forgotten about it. “Come to think of it, a birthday is a day to celebrate one’s birth by giving a gift. I’ve never celebrated your birthday. I’m sorry, Azriel.”

“Oh, it’s fine. I’m fine. I never celebrated my birthday anyway.”