Chapter 15

Chapter 15

“FINALLY, WE’RE HERE,” said Clara.

Clara stopped in front of a large building on a street a short distance away from the central square. My first impression of the building was that it was a structure standing in obstinate disregard for all the buildings or people around it. It was something of a mix between a mansion and a miniature castle, surrounded by a high fence. A crest made of four staves adorned the gate.

“Sorcerers’ Guild: Relis Branch,” a nearby sign read.

“It is I, Clara Andell, fifth seat of the branch,” said Clara.

“Yes, ma’am,” responded a guard. “We have been waiting for you.” He opened the gate. He was dressed in a different uniform than the ones we saw at the entrance to the city.

Clara and I were led into a waiting room and given the VIP treatment. From the way the guard and the servants acted toward me, I assumed that they had already been informed of who I was.

After waiting about ten minutes, a servant came to lead us to a room where we would meet the officers of the guild.

“This way,” she said.

We entered a large oval-shaped hall on the top floor of the building. It was about the size of a school gymnasium. The inside of the room matched the style of the exterior, mostly black colors, which only added to the overpowering aura of the chamber. The domed ceiling was fitted with stained glass windows (probably one of the most valuable items in the room), and tapestries hung from the walls, each decorated with designs that resembled sorcery code.

There were three sorcerers seated at a round table. The middle one stood up to greet us.

“Welcome to the Sorcerers’ Guild. I am Heridol Sylem, president and first seat of the Relis Branch.”

Heridol Sylem appeared to be in his mid-thirties, and he wore a heavily decorated robe with his blond hair combed back—very handsome overall. In his hand, he held a staff engraved with the crest of the guild, and brimmed with sociable confidence in both his expression and attitude. To use an example from my previous life—he carried himself like the young president of a venture capital firm at its initial public offering. He thought he was better than everyone else, and was not afraid to let it show.

“I am the magic user, Geo Margilus, from Castle Getaeus. It is an honor to be invited to your establishment.”

I introduced myself with a well-worn set phrase and took a simple bow. It was a considerable relief to me that I could add “from Castle Getaeus” to my introduction—having a fixed address, in and of itself, is a wonderful thing.

“Oh, no, the honor is ours,” said the man to Heridol’s right, standing.

“Likewise—it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” said a woman to his left, following suit.

The man and woman introduced themselves as Yahman, the vice president and second seat of the guild’s branch, and Nasaria, the third seat, respectively.

“Well then, please take a seat.”

I sat down at the table across from the other three. Clara wordlessly moved to the other end and sat down next to Nasaria.

As I slowly lowered myself into the ornately engraved wooden chair, I took the time to furtively examine the others. The only person in the room who was clearly relaxed was the president. Yahman’s and Nasaria’s faces were steely with nervousness, and Clara remained expressionless.

“I heard you have come from a very distant land. Do you find Relis to your liking?” Heridol asked.

“From what I have seen so far, the architecture is splendid and the people lively—a good city in my opinion.”

Starting out with small talk, huh? So, he’s not one of those types only concerned with his own research, I thought.

“Well, I hope you fully enjoy the sight of Relis’s famous network of canals and sluice gates, and take an opportunity to watch one of the city’s boat dances.”

“I see… Thank you for your recommendation.”

Boat dances? That sounds entertaining.

“President, I believe we should move on,” Yahman whispered to Heridol.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” Heridol replied.

After a few minutes of inconsequential chatter, Yahman stepped in to rain on our parade. So, he’s that number-two type that serves to keep the president on task—or rather, serves as the president’s excuse to stay on task, I thought. But given how important a guest I am (or am supposed to be), that’s not a very good move. This guild has a lot to learn, from an organizational standpoint.

“Lord Margilus, let me be frank with you,” said Heridol. “As of now, all we can confirm with our own eyes about you is that you have no mana reserves. Yet reports from the Calbanera Knights, the Relis Adventurers’ Guild, and Clara suggest you used a grand form of sorcery capable of destroying an entire legion of daemons…”

Alnogia did say something about meeting with the city council, and Sedam told me outright he would be delivering a report to the Adventurers’ Guild. If Heridol knows the contents of those reports, I thought, there must be some degree of information sharing within the city…

“The mere suggestion,” Heridol continued, with a hint of irritation in his voice, “that there exists another form of sorcery, which follows a different set of rules than the ones we know, is astonishing to us.”

“I could say the same. From my perspective, my magic is the norm, and sorcery is the astonishingly foreign technique,” I said.

“So, you feel the same?”

“Of course,” I said. “In fact, I would love to learn more about sorcery, and, in exchange, I plan to offer as much information as I can about a wizard’s magic.”

Heridol and the others were clearly suspicious of me, so I did my best to appear cooperative and allay their fears. I desperately hoped it was working.

“We would very much appreciate that. However…”

I cut him off. “You would like me to show you some magic first. Is that right?”

In the end, wizardry is no more than nonsense to them right now. The only reason they are listening to me at all is that I have several people to back up my story—but that can only get me so far.

“Is it true…that you can turn people to stone and summon meteors from the sky?” Nasaria asked, hesitantly. Her wording was polite, but the doubt was clear on her face.

“Well, as it is with such things… I hope you understand our desire to see what you can do with our own eyes…” Yahman, the eldest of the three, quickly added.

I get it. Don’t worry, I get it… I thought. But still—I’m starting to get tired of having to summon meteor showers everywhere I go.

“While I have no problem showing you my magic, I think it may be best to use a spell other than Meteor for an example.”

“Y-yes, I agree,” stuttered Yahman, and Nasaria nodded.

“All right, but be sure to show us something that clearly cannot be mistaken for sorcery, okay?” Heridol said, scoffing.

Does he think I’m trying to worm my way out of doing a real demonstration? I wondered. I looked over at Clara. She was giving him an ice-cold stare in response to his comment, and it made me more than a little happy that she was standing up for me.

“Oh, I know. According to Clara, you are able to create dragons and daemons out of nothing. I would love to see that,” said Heridol.

“Hmm… Very well.”

“In that case, you would not mind if we recorded our observations, would you?” asked Yahman, standing from his seat and approaching me.

“Of course—I do not mind,” I replied.

“Thank you for your cooperation. In that case…” He trailed off and turned to Heridol, who replied with an affirmative gesture.

On Heridol’s signal, Yahman took a crystalline medallion out of his pocket and showed it to me.

“Th-this is a device that is sensitive to even the smallest amounts of mana. I promise you it is not something that could harm you.”

“I see. Well then, I shall begin.”

I purposefully left my staff of wizardry at the table and stood up, making sure I secured enough space for the spell.

“Open, Gate of Magic. Reveal your form to me.”

“Hmm?”

I had hardly begun casting my spell before the sorcerers began to murmur in surprise. Unlike magic, sorcery only required the user to utter a single phrase—the name of the incantation, so I must have appeared very strange to them.

My imagined self went through the magic gate I summoned to my inner world and proceeded down the stairs into the chaotic realm. In the outside world, Yahman continued to hold the crystalline medallion out in front him, but nothing changed. With the exception of Clara, the sorcerers looked on with a mix of suspicion, interest, and scorn on their faces, but remained silent.

My imagined self reached the ninth-level archive. I reached for the spellbook I was looking for and touched it, releasing its chaotic energy.

“As a consequence of this spell, I will create one baby red dragon in this space under my command for a duration of thirty minutes. Create Monster: Any.”

Fortunately, I did not fumble my dice roll. Well, there is only a one percent chance of the spell failing, after all, I thought, as the chaotic energy became a crimson flow, spiraling in the center of the hall.

“Whoa…”

“What is that?”

As the sorcerers focused with amazement on the red spiral, the monster began to take form.

Crimson scales covered the dragon’s body, from its head and long neck to its lengthy tail. Each of its short limbs were armed with curved claws, and its reptilian head housed sinister, snake-like eyes and murderous crocodilian teeth. It was a hatchling, only about the size of a bull, but anything larger would not have been appropriate for the space and location.

“Gyahr!” the dragon roared.

In response, I heard the sorcerers cry out in fear and awe with stifled screams and muted gasps.

But after roaring, the dragon laid itself down on the floor in a show of submission to me and was quiet.

Heridol had half-risen from his chair, his staff in hand and ready to fire; Yahman, the closest to the dragon, had fallen backward in fear. I looked for Nasaria, and it was a few seconds before I realized she had fallen backward out of her chair, toppling it over.

“Yahman!” Heridol barked. “What does the sensor say?!”

“It isn’t detecting any mana at all!”

“How…How can that be?” asked Heridol, his voice shaking as he trailed off into silence.

They hardly lasted a minute, I thought.

The only sound that could be heard was the calm dragon’s breathing, seemingly amplified by the silence of the room.

That uncomfortable silence continued until even I reached my limit.

“Th-this is wonderful!” Heridol said, the first to break the silence. “You’re the real deal. To think that you could make something like this without any mana…” However, his voice sounded artificial, his face was tense, and he sweated visibly.

“S-still…” Heridol continued. “Can that dragon…do anything? If it’s just an illusion or a fake, then…”

What’s that now? I thought. This isn’t good enough for you? Is it really that hard for you to accept that another kind of technique for this sort of supernatural phenomenon exists? I will admit I was irritated, but I was not about to hold such a minor thing against them. My goal was to form a cooperative relationship with the guild.

“Oh, don’t worry,” I said. “It’s real. See?”

“Gyaaahr!”

“What is it doing?!” Heridol cried out.

Nasaria screamed.

As with any creature created with a spell, I could control the dragon with my thoughts, as long as it was within a certain range.

The dragon spread its wings wide and opened its mouth, spewing forth red, fiery breath. The hall was filled with a reddish glow, and a wave of heat instantly began to beat against us. Of course, I took care not to burn anyone or anything, but the sorcerers still screamed.

Even so, the heat was enough to startle even me. When I’d sent my telepathic command to the dragon, I’d specifically imagined a small flame—apparently, my idea and the dragon’s idea of a small flame were a little different.

I, uh…didn’t overdo it…right?

“Oh, calm down! You’re all a disgrace!” barked Clara.

Clara had been sitting quietly at the table throughout the ordeal, but after Yahman fell to the floor with his hands on his head and Nasaria hid under the table, she had apparently had enough.

“Y-you don’t have to show us any more,” stammered Heridol. “That’s enough! You’ve convinced us your magic is real…”

“P-p-please, just g-get rid of that thing!” said Yahman.

“My apologies…” I replied, as calmly as I could, and cast Dispel Magic.

The red dragon melted away into empty space, and once it was gone, the sorcerers gave an audible sigh of relief.

***

It took a while for the sorcerers to calm down. Though they went about righting fallen chairs and nervously sipping at their tea, their expressions were far graver than when I’d first entered the room—or at least, Heridol’s was. There was not even a trace of his earlier confident smile. Yahman and Nasaria’s expressions were more frightened than they were grave. Clara was the only one in the room who appeared fine.

I overdid it, didn’t I? I thought.

“I apologize for startling you. Are you convinced now that wizardry exists?” I asked.

I kept a calm persona, but on the inside, I was still holding my head in my hands.

“Y-yes… I must admit, it truly is an awe-inspiring art,” said Heridol, after a long, hesitant pause. “We were rude to be so dismissive. Will you accept our apologies?”

“Absolutely. In fact, I should thank you for believing me, in the end.” I saw a wave of relief wash over them.

Good. I might still be able to recover from this, I thought.

***

Ten minutes later…

“Interesting… What an astonishing hidden art.”

“So, you don’t use a sorcery frame, or even sorcery code…”

I finished briefly explaining the magic system—or at least the in-game explanation for it, as written by me with input from the game master. (I couldn’t believe how complicated I had made the system, but I had no one to blame but myself.) However, as a precaution, I left out important details, such as: how to train yourself to construct the inner world in your imagination, everything about the Gate of Magic, and the fact that spells needed to be charged before they could be used.

Even without explaining everything to the sorcerers, what I said was enough to deliver a heavy blow of culture shock. To be honest, I felt a little bad. Sorcery was a real technique, which these sorcerers had perfected through years of effort. My magic was no more than a byproduct of a game I’d played years ago.

“The mana we use in our sorcery exists prior to us using it, in people and in nature, but the mana used in Lord Margilus’s magic is something that is drawn out of chaos and channeled through his spirit,” said Clara, summarizing.

Clara was quick to catch on, but she had heard most of this explanation once before. It’s confusing to use the same word to refer to two different things, though, I thought.

“In that case, let us use ‘magical power’ instead of ‘mana’ to describe what I use,” I said.

“I see… That makes sense. Magical power, huh? It would be wonderful if we could find a way to use that power, too…” said Heridol.

“However,” Yahman said, “it appears to require many years of training…”

“Do you think it would be possible to use both at once?” muttered Nasaria.

The sorcerers were already starting to get lost in their own discussions, so I deemed it was about time to leave.

“Branch President Sylem, I hope to forge and maintain a cooperative relationship with your guild—one with us both on equal terms,” I said.

“I-I appreciate the offer. However…” He averted his eyes.

I could not tell exactly what Heridol was thinking, but it was obvious that he was reluctant to team up with me. Trying to force him into an agreement is only going to make matters worse, I thought.

“That said, I do not need an answer now,” I said, before Heridol could finish his sentence.

He glanced back up at me, puzzled.

“I am sure that my magic is like a bolt out of the blue to sorcerers like you. I think it best if you took time to discuss my offer among yourselves. In the meantime, if you have any questions, feel free to summon me so that I may answer.”

I just called everything they knew about the world as sorcerers into question, I thought. They need some time to collect themselves. I’ll pull back for now, and return once everyone has had a chance to cool their heads. This was never something that could be resolved in a single meeting.

“Branch President, I agree,” said Clara. “I think it best to take some time to process this information and discuss it with the other officers.”

Heridol finally righted himself and faced me directly.

“Yes… I am sorry, Lord Margilus; please allow us more time to consider your proposal.”

As I left the hall, I heard one of the sorcerers ask, “What is a ‘bolt out of the blue’?” and another reply, “I don’t know. Maybe it’s just a phrase that wizards use…”

***

“It looks like I won’t be lodging at the sorcerers’ guild after all,” I said, a little frustrated.

“Well, it would have been hard to get them to lodge you after all of that.” Clara helpfully supplied the obvious.

“I just hope I don’t negatively affect your standing in the guild,” I said. “If there’s anything I can do to help, just tell me.”

“In that case, it would be very helpful if you went back in there and said that magic is fake and you’re a fraud,” Clara spat, her eyebrows raised.

I knew Clara’s kindness and heroism well enough by then to know she was only half-serious, and I appreciated her lightening the mood.

“Well then, if it’s in order to protect your status, I may just have to do it.”

“Oh, you tease,” she said, and we both laughed a little.

I’m really starting to get along with her, I thought. There’s probably a lot we could accomplish together.

“I do understand what Heridol is going through, though,” Clara said quietly, gently setting our joking mood aside. “Many people in my family died fighting daemons ten years ago,” she continued, crossing her arms over her chest. She narrowed her eyes, as if looking back on her memories. “The reason I became a sorceress was so that I would have the power to protect this city against them.”

“Heridol’s motivation and mine are similar, but not the same. Both of us use sorcery as a way to fight daemons more effectively, but he specifically worked so hard all these years to use his sorcery to become a hero—a protector of the people.” Clara’s fingers tightened around her arms. “What I am afraid of is having all of the hard work I put in being overwritten by your magic. What Heridol fears is having the position he has built for himself taken away by you.”

Damn you, Watcher! What have you done?! I tried shouting and shaking my fist (all in my head)…but that farce wasn’t terribly effective at anything other than offering a small distraction from the silence that followed.

To think something my game master and I made up would end up causing trouble for so many people! Although Clara and Heridol’s concerns might have seemed outlandish because of words like “sorcery” and “heroes,” the problems they faced were not unlike what many faced in Japan.

“If you ask me,” I said slowly, “I don’t think that your effort and what you have achieved can be overwritten by anyone. If you ask all the people you’ve saved with your sorcery, I don’t think anything I could do would change how they feel about you.”

“But that’s…”

When trying to comfort someone who is intelligent…it helps to give concrete examples, I thought. I’m not sure if that will work here, but it’s worked for me before…

“For example…” I continued, “when we were fighting the nest, you protected me with your wind sorcery. For a task like that, wizardry is absolute garbage.”

The Calbanera siblings were the ones who’d made the final deflection, but if Clara’s sorcery hadn’t taken the brunt of the nest’s tentacle attack, they would not have been able to do so. Without Clara’s sorcery, we would all have been done for—so I reminded her of that.

Faced with my pathetic attempt at comforting her, Clara just stared at me, dumbfounded. Then, she suddenly turned her head away. Did I mess up? I wondered. I guess what works sometimes doesn’t work always… I don’t have much experience in this area, after all…

“I… I’ll let you comfort me this time, okay? But don’t get used to it!” Clara said, still looking away.

“Used to… Huh?”

“Mora’s waiting for you, remember?” Clara scowled. “So hurry up and get going! Off with you! Go! Shoo!”

Well… I guess it worked? I think? I don’t know, I thought, trying to piece together Clara’s reaction. Either way, I think this is it for today. I turned to leave, and then remembered something important.

“Yeah, about that…” I turned back around. “I’d love to get going, but I, uh…don’t know the way.”

“What?!”

Mora said she lives on Commerce Street… I thought, trying to remember, but I had already forgotten the way we had come and wasn’t really sure exactly where I was. Under normal circumstances, it would be hard for a grown man like me to admit he was so lost, but who could blame me? Life hadn’t exactly afforded me a lot of opportunities to go wandering around medieval cities.

“Well, I’ll probably be fine, as long as I ask a few people out on the street where to go…” I muttered, feeling the weight of shame.

“I cannot believe you sometimes!” Clara exclaimed before walking off—but a few strides later, she stopped and turned back toward me. “What are you doing?! Once the sun sets, they’ll close the gates to each district, and we won’t be able to pass through. So hurry up!”

Apparently, Clara was offering to guide me.

As I followed after Clara (who was still fuming), I took time to study the people of Relis as they passed by on the street.

We went by a market lined with carts, where merchants heatedly negotiated the prices of their wares, and soon passed storefronts, where master artisans were harshly coaching their apprentices. We passed children and young people stuffing their faces with fruit and candy and kebabs, but we also passed humble beggars reaching up from the ground, and heard the sounds of ruffians shouting and fighting among themselves. As we passed through the streets, I saw the city’s network of canals, filled with colorful boats carrying people and cargo. Its waterways were punctuated by arched stone bridges.

We’d spent a long time talking at the Sorcerers’ Guild, and night was starting to fall. I didn’t know if it was for a special occasion or if it was part of a daily routine, but the streets and bridges were lit with countless lanterns, dappling the city streets with a dreamlike atmosphere.

“Is that the boat dance Heridol was talking about?” I asked Clara.

“Hmm? Oh. Yes, it is,” she replied.

As we continued to walk along one of the many canals—which I had begun to think of as the arteries of this vast city—I noticed a line of decorated boats. It stood out from the others I had seen so far. It was like a parade, but on water. There were crowds of spectators, both on either side of the canal and on the bridges. When I looked more closely, I saw a stage on one of the boat decks, which is what all the crowds were watching.

The stage was lit with finely decorated lanterns, which resembled the paper lanterns common in Japan. Upon it moved dancers draped in flowing clothes of red and white silk. Some of the boats in the parade carried musicians playing music. While the melodies they played at first seemed light and playful, I felt a sorrowful tone underlying it. When the dancers turned in unison, it was like watching fireworks from a distance.

“It’s beautiful…but it seems a little subdued to be part of a festival,” I thought aloud.

Clara turned to me with a bit of a pained smile.

“Their performance today is a dance of requiem—for all those killed by daemons,” she said quietly.

“I see…”

I had no other words to say.

This isn’t a game. This is a world where people live and die, I reminded myself, yet again, and thought back to when Clara and I traveled along the Lawful Way to Relis, immersed in nature, dwelling among other travelers. That was another time I’d felt this way.

“Ten years ago, daemons invaded this city, after all,” Clara said, pointing to a stone memorial on a corner of the street, carved in the shape of a soldier with a spear. People had lain flowers and wine beside it.

I read the inscription. “Here, the Relis City Guard’s twenty-third regiment fought and died to impede the daemons’ advance. May the winter goddess offer them peace.”

“Hmm? What are you doing?” Clara asked.

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

I had reflexively brought my hands together, the way one might do by a grave in Japan. It might have seemed a foreign thing to do in Sedia, but whatever our difference in customs, I thought it right to show my respect for the fallen.

***

After we crossed several more stone bridges, we returned to a street situated near the front gate, where several shops with elaborate signs stood. So, this is Commerce Street, I thought.

“Mora’s house is right over there,” said Clara. “You don’t need my help finding the front door, do you?”

Clara was ready to head back, and I didn’t have any reason to stop her. This was her home turf, and it would be a little much to ask for any more of her time.

“Thank you, Clara,” I said, with a bow.

Clara turned away from me, playing absentmindedly with her wavy hair. On our walk, Clara had shared something personal about herself, and while I did want to make up for making her talk about it, I realized I had never properly thanked her for all her help, so I felt I had to be especially insistent.

“What’s this all about?” she said. “All I did was show you the way back to Mora’s.”

“It’s not only that. You’ve done a lot for me over the past few days, and I realized I haven’t thanked you yet. Thank you again.”

“All I did was my duty,” Clara said, after a pause.

“Even so, thank you for everything. I owe you a lot.”

“So, the great magic user owes me? Well, I suppose I should consider myself lucky. I’m sure that’s worth a ton.” Clara spoke sarcastically, one eyebrow raised.

At least she’s back to her normal self, I thought. I guess my “comforting” helped a little, then.

“Uh, well…”

As much as I felt I had gotten used to wearing the mask of a great magic user, it didn’t take much for the façade to fall away. At the end of the day, I’m just not suited for this role, I thought, for the umpteenth time.

“I’m only joking,” said Clara. “I know you’re just a normal, kind person on the inside.”

If I were back in Japan, and Clara was a young woman on the street or in a bar, I would have automatically translated that line into “I’m not interested in you,” but her face looked too serious for me to dismiss her comment entirely.

“It’s just…” Clara paused, then continued. “In this world, you never know when daemons might come and kill you or your family. If there’s a real hero out there somewhere who could change that, I…” She trailed off, her blue eyes turning to me as if clinging to some unsteady hope. “I don’t know where your path will take you, but I am confident that whatever you choose to do, it will be something that is right… Whether or not what you choose is something I’ll be able to help you with,” she said, finally.

Clara waited a few moments for an answer that did not come. As I struggled to find something to say, she closed her eyes once, and when they opened again, all the emotion they held was gone—compartmentalized.

“Good night,” she said, and then she was gone.