Petebugens, the Imperial University's Mage Tower (3)
If other mages held lakes of mana, great or small, then what Brandal believed he had just sensed within Theorad was an ocean that covered the world.
An ocean so broad and deep that no human could hope to find its shore.
That impossible depth brought an even more unsettling thought.
Is Theorad Deharem truly human?
Perhaps the man sitting across from him was some being beyond the limits of ordinary humanity.
Could the Demon King have left the depths of the demon realm on a whim?
Brandal rejected the idea almost immediately.
No. His mana is too pure.
He had sensed no trace of demonic corruption. Among all the mages whose reserves he'd examined with Sensing Wave, none had shown mana of such extraordinary stability.
How could a human possess reserves that vast, with a quality of mana so perfectly balanced? Even after a lifetime devoted to magical scholarship, Brandal had no ready explanation.
“…President?”
Theorad's voice broke through his thoughts. Only then did Brandal realize how long he'd been staring.
He drew a breath.
“My apologies. I was startled by how unusual your palm is.”
“My palm?”
“Yes. I've only picked up a little palmistry, but look here…”
Brandal glanced down again and stopped himself.
He hadn't received formal training in palm reading, but he'd learned enough to recognize familiar marks. Theorad's were unlike any he'd seen. His life line was tangled, and his fate line broken.
There was one reassuring sign: a square where the fate line had been severed. In palmistry, such a mark meant a person might survive calamities that had already struck, or those still to come.
What a complicated fate. Even if this man wants an ordinary life, it seems unlikely he'll get one.
Stroking his beard, Brandal laughed softly.
“Your life holds many trials, but many people and possibilities as well. It seems the difficulties born of those ties are weighing on you, Viscount Theorad.”
“Difficulties?”
“As I said, I learned this only in passing. I couldn't tell you the particulars. I'm no astrologer.”
He smiled and leaned back in his chair, exhausted by the effort of measuring what he took to be Theorad's mana.
“Still, I wouldn't worry. Palmistry is superstition when you look at the larger picture. We make our own destiny in the end. Even a mouse caught by a cat may escape if it keeps its wits about it.”
“A cat and a mouse…”
Theorad felt that analogy strike uncomfortably close to home. Brandal couldn't possibly know his circumstances, of course.
“Now then, enough of palm reading. Your allotted time is running out. We should have a more constructive discussion.”
“Very well.”
“Thank you for understanding.”
Brandal inclined his head and snapped his fingers.
Whoosh!
Several sheets flew from a shelf and stopped in the air before Theorad. At the top of the document were the words Monthly Academic Schedule.
Theorad took the pages and unfolded them. The schedule laid out the academy's academic activities by day, with his own lecture marked for about a week from now.
Brandal watched him study the times carefully.
“Does it suit you?”
Theorad nodded. He had finished preparing the substance of his lecture. A week would give him plenty of time to rehearse.
“Wonderful. May our students look forward to what you'll teach them?”
“That depends on their understanding, not their expectations. There's no guarantee the Mage Tower's students will understand my lecture.”
Brandal's eyes widened at the imperious reply.
Theorad had meant only that, while he had prepared what he could, he couldn't know how well the students would grasp it. Brandal heard something rather different: I don't know whether your students are clever enough to follow what I intend to teach.
Confident, isn't he?
Brandal was now more eager than ever to see the lecture.
If this was truly the man who had completed artificial rain magic, the university might witness something unprecedented. If he was a fraud, the lecture would expose him before the students.
Either outcome would answer Brandal's questions.
“Well,” he said with a pleased smile, “we shall see whether the students come to respect their instructor. Respect often begins where one's own understanding ends.”
“I see.”
“Now, there's the matter of assigning your accommodation…”
His gaze moved to the elf behind Theorad.
Silver hair fell to her waist, and her crimson eyes were lovely and untroubled. Her beauty alone made her difficult to overlook. Despite standing in the university president's own office, she showed no sign of unease; she held her head high with almost lofty indifference.
Brandal smiled and turned back to Theorad.
“Would a Royal Suite on the forty-fifth floor be acceptable?”
“Certainly. As for my maid—”
“Ah, no need to worry. I understand you're especially attached to your elf maid, so I've arranged for her to stay with you.”
Theorad felt the blood leave his face.
The same room? For my entire stay at the Mage Tower?
He wanted to ask why Brandal had decided this without consulting him. But the elf stood immediately behind him. He couldn't bring himself to object in front of her.
“Thank you for your generosity.”
He swallowed his protests and nodded.
Alina guided us to the room.
The Royal Suite was every bit as large and luxurious as the name suggested. Brandal clearly intended to treat me as an honored guest, though that knowledge brought more pressure than pleasure.
Once we'd looked around, I asked the elf and Alina to accompany me back outside. Our luggage was still in the carriage.
There wasn't nearly enough of it to require three people. I simply couldn't bear the thought of spending the first evening alone in that suite with the elf, so I'd seized on an excuse to leave.
Afterward, I told the elf to take the luggage upstairs and slipped away.
If I stay out long enough, she might fall asleep before I come back.
It was a rather transparent hope, but I clung to it.
Rioveda Street, was it…?
Avoiding the elf wasn't my only reason for coming out.
Rioveda Street was famous for its food, shops, and amusements. People even said that a visit to the Mage Tower wasn't complete without one to Rioveda Street.
I had come to the tower to work, through an unfortunate misunderstanding or two, but now that I had a little spare time, I wanted to see the district properly.
More than that, I wanted to buy Ashley a nice souvenir.
But…
Whether it was the steep plateau or simply my unfamiliarity with the district, these streets were bewildering. Sloping roads intersected one another, and shops crowded every corner.
“Students, don't just stand there! Come inside! Cheap wands, new models! You won't find a better—hey! They're not all the same!”
“Ah, fuck, I wish I hadn't dropped Magical Tool Modeling and Design. That professor gives out mountains of assignments! I only wanted to take the class!”
“Isn't that Professor Glaud's course? You signed up without knowing who taught it?”
Students and merchants hurried past as though they knew every turning by heart. I did not. Even with the booklet Alina had given me, I felt as if I kept circling the same streets.
I was determined to find the souvenir shop without help.
Instead, I ended up in an empty alley.
Damn it…
At this point, there was no denying I'd gotten lost.
Have I always been this hopeless at finding my way?
I sighed and turned to retrace my steps, only to stop when someone emerged from around the corner.
“Oh…?”
A woman stood there holding a yellow paper bag of pastries. She was watching a cat perched on a wall, a bored little smile on her face.
Her dark, gray-tinged hair framed golden eyes that held an unmistakably imperious glint. She wore an immaculate white military uniform. Medals decorated her chest, alongside the emblem of the imperial family.
Her Highness… the Princess?
Why was Benelia here?
I was too stunned to speak.
She hadn't noticed me. Smiling at the cat, she drew a fish-shaped taiyaki pastry from the bag.
“Want some?”
She held it out and gave it a little shake. The cat approached cautiously, sniffed the pastry, and opened its mouth to take a bite.
Swish!
Benelia jerked the pastry away.
“And why should an insignificant creature help itself to my food? If you've chosen to live as a stray, don't make a habit of begging from humans.”
“Meow!”
The cat glared at her. Benelia waved a hand.
“Go on. Earn your own living. Shoo!”
Startled by her sudden shout, the cat sprang away and fled.
Benelia watched it go with a faintly satisfied smile, then put the head of the taiyaki in her mouth.
She turned.
The moment she saw me standing at the other end of the alley, she froze.
“…”
“…”
Silence stretched between us.
Plop.
Benelia's golden eyes widened. The taiyaki slipped from her mouth and fell to the ground.