Arc I - Beautiful World

Chapter 9 - Magic

Day 8 Since the Summoning

Kamelia and Alan approached a group of guards standing a fair distance away from the carcass, which had been dragged out of the river onto the dry plains. The horses were tied to a tree. One of the guards was forcefully dragging his horse away from the riverbank, the animal desperately trying to get a drink.

Shergen separated from the group and leisurely walked up to the countess and Alan. "My Lady, I see the hero has finally awoken?" he asked, clasping his hands behind his back.

Kamelia nodded. "Yes." She turned to Gothwald. "Alan, this is Shergen, a fire mage."

The guy blinked.

'Do not say it out loud. That is the dumbest question you could possibly ask. Do not say it. Do not ask it.'

"Why don't you have a staff or some kind of magical gear?"

'Idiot.'

Shergen raised an eyebrow. "Um... why would I? Only High Mages and Heroes carry such things, not ordinary folks like me."

Alan shut his mouth. "Gotcha..."

'That's it. Shut up now. Enough stupid questions, time to get to work.'

He shoved his hands into his pockets. "Well... so, are we starting the cremat... burning?"

Shergen blinked. "Starting the what?"

Kamelia sighed and walked toward the jekors's corpse. "Pay him no mind. He is constantly using overly complicated words from his world."

The mage scratched his stubble. "I'm curious, actually. What does 'cremat' mean?"

Alan pulled his hands out of his pockets.

'Well, I'll be damned. Someone actually cares about what my words mean.'

"It's a word for when dead people or animals are burned, cremation"

Shergen tilted his head. "Burned? Hmm... they rarely bury their dead in Arumelia, too. They also use some strange word for the ritual. Started with a 'T', but I don't remember it honestly."

Alan froze.

'A strange word... no. It could just be a coincidence or their local name for the ritual. The letter 'T'... fire... cremation... heat... ... ...'

His eyes widened.

'Thermal!'

Alan abruptly took a step closer. "Listen, does their ritual happen to have the word 'thermal' in it?!"

Shergen didn't flinch, but his hands twitched slightly. "I don't recall, to be honest. I only heard the word once." He shrugged. "News from Arumelia is incredibly rare. It's on the other side of the world. I'm just very lucky that I ran into a merchant from there about twenty years ago."

Alan dropped his hands. "Ah... understood, then." He scratched the back of his head. "Hey, do you remember what that merchant from Arumelia looked like? I'm curious now."

"Are you two coming or what?!" Kamelia shouted.

"Right there!" Shergen called back, then turned to Alan. "Kid, do you really think I remember exact details after all this time? Just an ordinary merchant in rich clothing." He chuckled. "They don't have sheep-heads living there, if that's what you're asking." He turned and walked away.

Alan blinked. "What? Sheep... heads?"

Shergen glanced back. "Ah, you probably don't understand our expressions. It means something like..." he scratched his forehead. "How do I explain it... a strange, made-up creature used to describe the inhabitants of faraway lands. It's... tied to an old legend of our ancestors, but it's a long story."

Alan gave a slow nod. "Hmm... interesting phrase. Alright, let's go, before the countess decides to burn us first."

The mage smiled slightly. "Oh, she absolutely could. We'd better get moving."

Alan followed the man, massaging his forehead.

'I don't understand a damn thing. I'll have to dig into this later... if I survive and don't go completely insane first.'

Alan stopped next to the guards, about thirty-five meters (115 feet) from the carcass. Shergen walked up to the jekors, stopping about ten paces away.

"Gratity! Viduitye po darihe!" he shouted.

Kamelia nodded, and everyone backed away, except for Alan, who just blinked.

'Fucking Wi-Fi translator with a limited coverage zone. But whatever, he probably just told everyone to stand back.'

The guy followed the rest of the group back another fifteen paces (about 45 feet).

Shergen extended his hands in front of him, and his body was enveloped in a faint green silhouette.

A second passed.

A small fireball formed between his hands, and his palms glowed the brightest green of all.

Suddenly, a pillar of orange flame erupted from his hands like a flamethrower, blasting straight into the beast's corpse.

The fire slowly engulfed the massive carcass. The damp fur dried out instantly, started to smoke heavily, and then burst into flames. The exposed bones began to char black.

Shergen dug his heels into the dirt. Sweat poured down his forehead, his whole body trembled, and the tongues of flame grew so intense that the grass in a wide radius around the corpse began to blacken and crisp.

Three minutes later, the fire cut out. The mage doubled over, resting his hands on his knees and panting heavily. All that remained of the corpse was a heap of blackened bones and ash.

Shergen let out a deep exhale and straightened up, then slowly walked back toward the guards, his back slightly hunched.

Kamelia immediately power-walked forward to meet him. "Shergen! How are you holding up?"

The mage just waved a hand. "You really piled it on an old man today, Your Grace."

The countess stopped and simply shook her head. "You haven't changed a bit."

Shergen finally reached the group. "I think I spent a good half of my fiolla on that beast," he said, glancing back over his shoulder at the remains. "Maybe even more."

Alan blinked.

'What? Fiolla?'

Kamelia brushed a lock of hair out of her face. "I'm not surprised, given the size of that monster."

Shergen opened his mouth, but Alan interrupted by raising a hand. "That was awesome, obviously, but... what exactly is fiolla?"

The mage looked at the kid. "What? You don't know what fiolla is?" He shot Kamelia a side-eye.

She shrugged. "We have been very busy. I didn't have time to explain it."

"Didn't have time to explain the most important thing..." Shergen muttered almost inaudibly, then sighed. "Then I'll explain it quickly." He turned to Alan. "Fiolla is the gift of Svyatol, which has allowed us to use magic for thousands of years. It is an inner strength within a person that makes it all possible."

Gothwald blinked again. "Like... mana, or something?"

The guards behind them leaned in slightly, trying not to be obvious about it.

Shergen tilted his head. "Is that what you call it in your world? Mana?"

Alan opened his mouth, then closed it.

'I can't exactly explain to him right now that mana is something that only exists in books and moving pictures back home.'

He sniffled. "Well... pretty much." Alan waved a hand. "We're a little short on time right now, but... could you maybe come to the capital of Armenas later and tell me more about it?"

Kamelia looked at him from the corner of her eye, but didn't say anything.

The mage shrugged. "That's entirely up to Her Grace."

The countess closed her eyes. "That is assuming the sickness actually stops thanks to your actions. If not... you know what happens."

Alan just sighed. "Yeah. I know."

'And off comes my head. I've honestly gotten used to the idea over these past few days. Alright... we're packing up now, I need to come up with more questions fast... but what? Maybe... aaaaaah... I don't have the energy to think anymore... I just want to drop dead and sleep forever. Actually... there is one little question.'

"Hey, Shergen, why... why was there a green light around you? It's fire magic, right? Why wasn't it orange or red?"

'Good job, Alan. You're an absolute genius. This world desperately needs more minds like yours.'

Shergen started walking toward his horse. "What's unusual about it? It's Elemental Magic, it's all like that. Personally, I've never seen an orange aura." He stopped by his saddle and turned to Alan. "And a red aura is the color of Physical Magic." The man hoisted himself onto his horse.

Alan blinked.

'So that's how it is... alright. That's it. I don't want to think about anything else anymore. I want to sleep... and eat... and sleep some more.'

Gothwald yawned. "Got it..."

Kamelia walked up beside him. "Since we are finished here, it is time to return to the castle. We have been out here for days..." She narrowed her eyes. "And in two weeks, we will see the fruits of your labor."

Day 11 Since the Summoning

Alan was sitting at a table that had been dragged into the small throne room. Instead of his old suit, he was wearing a brown tunic, standard gray trousers, and black boots. The dark bags under his eyes hadn't faded, even though he'd been sleeping plenty.

Kamelia sat next to him in her usual dark-gray military tunic, hands folded on the table.

Sitting across from them were six advisors, men ranging from thirty-five to forty-five years old.

One of them, a forty-something man with thinning, slightly graying hair, sat up straight. "Your Grace, permission to begin the report?"

The girl nodded. "Granted."

"Ahem..." He unrolled a sheet of parchment. "First of all, Your Grace, Baron Ekkurn expresses deep concern regarding your recent, unannounced interventions. Furthermore... he expresses extreme displeasure regarding the village you burned down within his lands."

Kamelia cast a sideways glance at Alan and gave a barely perceptible nod. The guy's eyes widened slightly.

'Ah... so that's why you dragged me to this meeting... so I could watch the fallout.'

Kamelia cleared her throat. "It was a necessary measure to prevent the spread of the sickness."

Another advisor, about thirty-seven with slicked-back black hair, raised an eyebrow. "My Lady... I do not doubt you, of course, but... are you certain you chose this course of action entirely of your own accord?"

Alan's hands tensed up.

'Fuck. He's talking about me! Dammit, look at how carefully they're steering the blame directly onto me... should I say something? Absolutely! Or... will I just be pouring gasoline on the fire? FUCK!'

Kamelia folded her hands on the table. "Naturally, I did not. Alan Gothwald advised me on the matter."

One of the advisors narrowed his eyes but remained silent. The slicked-back advisor's face remained completely unreadable.

The gray-haired advisor let out a quiet breath through his nose. "My Lady, are you... confident in his words? Even if he is a... hero, burning down an entire village and placing the other five under strict guard... seems excessive to me."

A mustached advisor waved a hand dismissively. "Agreed. The sickness is a terrible tragedy, of course, but we face it almost every year. For example, four years ago, after a priest from the capital visited and blessed our lands, there was no sickness. Perhaps we should simply summon him again this time?"

Alan clenched his fists under the table.

'You idiot! What fucking priest and blessing?! That was just a coincidence, nothing more! Argh... and there is no way to explain that to him... alright, just keep your mouth shut and look smart, Alan. Don't add your two cents.'

Kamelia raised a hand. "Alan Gothwald promised that the sickness would be stopped two weeks after these measures were implemented. As a sign of his confidence, he..." she closed her eyes. "He staked his life on it. If the sickness does not stop, he will be sentenced to execution."

The advisors instantly froze. Alan froze right along with them.

'Uh-oh... alright, I'm fucked. It was one thing when only she and a few guards knew. I could've... I could've talked my way out of it somehow... but she just declared it in front of the entire council...'

He swallowed a heavy lump in his throat.

'This is serious now. Very serious... she's not just... FUCK! What if I messed something up out there?! What if some peasant slips past the guards and grabs water from the river?! Or what if they share the same dishes or latrines?! What if they didn't memorize how to build the filter?! Or what if they forget that you ABSOLUTELY have to boil the water after filtering it?! THERE ARE NO FUCKING GUARANTEES!'

Every eye in the room immediately snapped to Alan.

"Is this true, Lord Gothwald?" one of the advisors asked.

Alan didn't answer. He just stared with empty eyes at the wall somewhere behind the advisors. One of them briefly glanced over his shoulder to see what the guy was looking at, then turned back to the table.

Kamelia reached under the table and pinched Alan hard on the thigh.

He jolted slightly. "Huh? What?"

"The advisors are asking if your promise is true," she hissed through her teeth.

Alan nodded rapidly. "Ah, yeah... it's true."

The men across the table gave varying nods of acknowledgment. Then the mustached one straightened up. "We will relay this to the baron and the knights who hold those lands. Two villages down. Is there anything else, Your Grace?"

Kamelia shook her head, then stood up. "No. You are dismissed."

The advisors stood up in unison, offered brief bows, and filed out of the small throne room one by one.

The door clicked shut.

Kamelia slowly turned to Alan. "Where... where exactly are you? Are you here, or are your head in the clouds?" she asked, her voice completely even. Far too even.

Alan was breathing rapidly. "That doesn't matter right now." He took a step closer, holding his hands up. "Kamelia, we need... we need to tighten the quarantine immediately! Because if even one person breaks it... everything is going to shit!" He took another step forward, his eyes wide. "We need to go back out there! Send more guards, repeat the filter recipes, explain it to them more thoroughly so nobody breaks the rules and the disease doesn't spread again! We need to..."

"Alan," Kamelia said, closing her eyes. "Calm down. In two weeks, everything will be clear."

Alan dropped his hands, then scowled. "But the human factor plays a massive role here! You can build the perfect plan, and then some idiot takes a sip of water from the river and the whole village gets infected again!" He threw his arms wide, his voice rising to a shout. "I guarantee you they won't all listen! The measures work, but they're useless if people simply don't follow them, and..."

Kamelia stepped right into his personal space. "Are you that afraid of dying? You fed me a bunch of nonsense about burning and some 'dysentery', and now that you know for a fact you'll be executed if your plan fails, you decided you need to go fix everything? You spouted madness, and only now realized the severity of your words and your promise?"

Alan froze. "What... No! That's not it at all!" A drop of sweat rolled down his forehead. "Listen, Kamelia..."

"Armenas," the girl interrupted. "Lady Armenas. Calm down this instant. You will be escorted to your room now."

She turned and walked toward the doors.

Alan took a step forward. "But... you don't understand what I'm trying to say!"

The countess wasn't listening. She just silently walked out and shut the doors behind her, the wood slamming shut with a bit too much force.

Alan stared at the doors for a solid minute, then slammed his fist onto the table so hard a dull thud echoed through the hall.

"FUCK!" he screamed, dropping onto the steps in front of the throne and clutching his head.

'FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! THAT'S IT! IT'S FUCKING OVER! SHE'S NOT EVEN LISTENING TO ME! THE QUARANTINE ISN'T GOING TO HOLD AND I'M GOING TO BE EXECUTED IN TWO WEEKS! FUUUUUUUCK! WHAT DO I DO?! WHAT DO I DO?! WHAT DO I DO?! RUN THE FUCK AWAY FROM HERE?! AND WHERE THE FUCK AM I GOING TO RUN TO?! THESE ARE FUCKING MEDIEVAL PEASANTS WHO CAN'T SEE PAST THEIR OWN NOSES!'

He started pulling at his hair with hands that weren't just trembling, but practically vibrating.

'I AM SUCH A RETARD! I DIDN'T EVEN BOTHER TO PROPERLY EXPLAIN TO THEM THE POINT BEHIND ALL THESE ACTIONS! YOU FUCKING IDIOT! THAT'S LITERALLY RULE NUMBER ONE! NOBODY IS GOING TO DO A DAMN THING IF THEY DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY THEY'RE DOING IT! I AM FUCKED! THEY ARE DEFINITELY GOING TO EXECUTE ME BECAUSE OF THIS STUPID MISTAKE!'

Day 22 Since the Summoning

Dawn was already breaking over the streets of Armenas's capital. Rays of sunlight flooded into Alan's room, illuminating the space.

Gothwald sat on his hard wooden bed, hugging his knees to his chest. His fingernails were almost black and bitten down to the quick; fresh blood was still oozing from one of his fingers. Sparse drops of blood stained the bedsheets.

His lips were also chewed bloody. His hair was a chaotic mess. Bruises dark as the abyss adorned the bags under his eyes, and his face was as pale as chalk. Though hidden beneath his clothes, his ribs were already beginning to show against his skin.

Alan had just been sitting like this for two entire days. The last time he'd gotten up was just to use the chamber pot in the corner.

'How much time has passed? How long have I been sitting here? Has it been two weeks already? They're going to execute me. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. They're going to kill me... they're going to kill me...'

The words had been looping in his head like a mantra for days.

A knock came at the door, and Alan violently scrambled backward on the bed.

'Who is it?! Are the executioners here already?! Are they taking me to the scaffold?!'

The door slowly opened.

Kamelia. For the first time in weeks. She scanned the room, then looked at Alan himself. Her eyes widened slightly, and her face contorted in a barely noticeable flinch. "Come on... we need to talk about... the villages," she said quietly.

Gothwald's heart plummeted into his stomach. He stayed silent for a few seconds,
then slumped his shoulders and simply walked toward the door.

Kamelia silently stepped aside to let him pass.

Five minutes later, they were back in the small throne room. The countess sat down at the table. Alan remained standing near the doorway, just staring at the floor.

"Sit," she said.

Alan jolted slightly, then slowly sat down across from her, folding his hands in front of him and automatically beginning to pick at his mangled fingers.

Kamelia closed her eyes. "Over the past two weeks, about a hundred peasants have died in the villages from the sickness."