Chapter 15: 3.3

3.3

Clip. Clak.

The clacking on the hooves deliberately came to a halt as the coachman pulled the reins. A carriage painted in red and gold parked itself in front of Harvest’s residence. Twilight shone into the cushioned coach where two people sat across, facing each other.

“It seems that we reached your place, Miril.”

“Already, Mr Olbaz? I wanted to talk more,” Miril said disappointingly.

“Call me Aron, I insist,” Aron gave a polite nod.

The older gentleman was unlike what Miril had first encountered him. Aron, now had his white hair cleanly cut, his beard trimmed to fit his square chin. Despite having barged into Miril’s room like a lunatic in the past, the Aron now had the etiquette of a noble of Deazarith Empire.

“Yes,” Miril kept his head low.

“Ha, there is no need to be polite with me Miril. We would be spending our time together very soon. In fact, I fully support the directness that you have showed me the first time.”

“T-that’s when I took you for a thief. And my p-potions are very precious to me, that’s why I got irritated.”

“That is precisely why I need you to be your usual self, if you weren’t passionate about making potions for your mother’s sake, I would have never got interested in them. Ha!” Like a snobbish child, Aron placed his hands on his sides, nose pointed upwards as he haughtily recalled that memory.

“In any case, Aron, I can’t thank you enough for letting me accept your generous offer.”

“It’s my pleasure, Miril. The mere thought of having you accompanying me with my research while you train to be a pharmacist, was a blessing itself.”

“Are you sure that it is fine that I am paid seven gold weekly? That is beyond what my father can make in a month...” Miril fidgeted.

“The empire has too much gold to spare. They don’t have to know about anything as long we fulfill our duty. Won’t they, Miril?” Aron gave the boy a pat on his back along with a cheeky wink.

“Yes, thank you very much, Aron!”

“Now, don’t keep your family waiting for your return, go on,” Aron opened the door to his right, gesturing Miril with a crinkled smile.

Setting one foot on the step to the carriage and the other on the cold dry ground, Miril got off the coach.

“As planned, I would have someone to pick you up when winter ends, about 9 weeks from now.”

“I will remember to bring my belongings with me. Don’t worry about that, I have decided to become a pharmacist, I won’t let this opportunity pass by. I will give my best efforts to you, Aron.”

“Let us be on our way then, coachman. Until we meet again, Miril.”

Miril waved at the old man as the horses began to gallop once more, taking their departure. Only once the beautiful carriage have disappeared out of his sights did Miril went back to his house.

The exchange left Miril’s heart beating in excitement, his cheeks flushed as a grin curled all the way on his face. He couldn’t believe it, seven gold per week, and all expenses paid for the very moment he would start his apprenticeship with Aron Olbaz.

“This is amazing! Hahaha!” his rubbed his hands together, warming them as he panted heavily. “And in a month’s time, Aron said that it would increase to ten gold pieces. That’s enough to buy all the stuff we sold all on its own!”

Miril slapped his cheeks and straightened his clothes. His face returned to the tranquil expression he usually wore.

“Mera and Meli would be so proud of me. And mom, she would no longer have to suffer… I’ll surprise them with this news. I bet dad couldn’t imagine that I would earn the amount of the echo laces we picked. Goodbye, Reperane Woods and hello the good life!”

Miril stood in the front of the door that he was so used to seeing and gave it three steady knocks.

“It’s Miril, I am home!”

Regular pacing of footsteps can be heard from his direction.

“Mera? Is that you, Meli is in the bath isn’t she—”

The door swung open.

Expecting his sister, Miril however, was greeted by his mother, Itzella.

“M-mom? Y-you...”

Her cheeks were no longer hollow or vulnerable, her face radiated the youth that she once lost. And more importantly, her ruby eyes that were akin to his, fixed themselves at him for the first time in years.

“Welcome back, Miril. It’s great to see you home.”

The kind smile that Itzella gave to her son stunned him in place, mouth agape.

“You still look the way I remember you,” Itzella brimmed.

“I-I don’t understand… How? How are you…”

“It’s alright, I don’t too. But he made it possible.”

“Who is he?” Miril spoke quickly.

“Come, I’ll show you.”

Miril hastily kick away his boots and hung his coat on one of the hooks that he had installed by the entrance. He followed Itzella quietly as she walked on her two legs without staggering.

An apron? Does this mean that mom can cook? What is going on?

One moment Miril would take in multiple shallow breaths, the next the would release all of them with a strong exhale. The gears in his brain that he never knew he had started to turn and grind in bewilderment.

What sort of person would be able to do something as that a high grade potion had failed to do? Even church priests would have a hard time producing such a miracle with the help of their many apostles.

His heart thumped loudly from just standing by his mother’s side, everything became surreal to him.

Only heroes chosen by destiny could achieve such a feat with guaranteed success. For the greatness of their powers were untold, they were the beacon of light that led all races of good.

But they were never to be seen in remote areas like Parac Village.

A vision from years ago came into Miril’s mind. It was a time when Meli could barely speak and cried a lot. He remembered a tall slender man, skin paler than anyone he ever met, even if it was a brief moment, Miril caught a glimpse of the unusually sharp teeth that was behind those tight lips of the man.

According to his parents when Miril had asked them about the pale man from the day before, they claimed that he was merely a distant relative from his grandparents. The explanation did make sense to Miril at the time. But what happened soon after disturbed him greatly.

His mother, who never caught a cold even in the harshest of winters, was bedridden.

Miril’s shirt was damp when he noticed it.

“Ah, there he is.”

Itzella brought Miril out of his daze with a light touch on his shoulders. Her soft voice, like how it was when Miril was a child, reassured that there was nothing worth for him to ponder that much into the past.

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It was a mere coincidence. Nothing more. He tried convincing himself that it was the case with his mother, that she was unfortunate enough to have been ridden with that horrible disease of hers, one that brought many doctors much confusion. But...what if...

“John, this is Miril, the eldest of our children.”

Atop the table was a young man with a oval face with distinguished features. His features were somewhat bizarre to people native to the empire, but Miril found similarity of John’s dark eyes and hair with some of the people when old man Olbaz was bringing him around.

John had genes that came from the eastern continent.

The noticeable aspect was the way John carried himself. It was evident that John was older than him, in fact more handsome than Miril would admit to himself.

The underlying sharp gaze behind his dark eyes, the way he steadily moved the spoon to his lips without much care, was all the proof that Miril needed to deduce John’s background.

An adventurer.

“...”

Having called out by Itzella, John paused his actions and raised a hand at Miril “H-hey. Thanks for saving me and all that… I didn’t know what would happen if I was left in the forest.”

Miril couldn’t help but notice the familiar tunic hung on John who sat by the table.

“Why is he wearing my clothes?”

“Meli said you don’t use them anymore. And there isn’t much to go around,” Itzella explained.

“But mom, I never said—”

“He is the one who healed me. I thought I was a goner when I started coughing blood nonstop earlier. And your father wasn’t home then, John here used his healing magic on me. The illness was gone when he was done and I felt like my body was healthy like it was a decade ago. Miril, I regained my sight after all these years, something that I never imagine would happen.”

“But what heavy fees will he ask for? Magic users are not exactly common, and they charge a lot,” Miril pointed his index finger at John.

“It’s because you and your father saved me from dying, I healed your mother as my gratitude. If it’s anything, I am the one who should apologize for freeloading in your house. There is nothing more,” John bowed his head.

“Fine...”

“Now, Miril, try to get along with John. He helped us in more ways than just healing me. I won’t be a burden to any of you anymore, isn’t that wonderful?” Itzella hummed as she left for the kitchen with springy steps.

Miril who was still suspicious of the young man slid a chair out and sat across him, arms folded.

“Two words: Magic and How?”

“That’s three.”

“That’s thre— Hey, don’t mess with me.”

“Hahaha, fine.” John chuckled. “I can use [Heal]. In fact, that’s the only spell I know how to use.”

“Spell?”

“Yeah, you just pour the mana you have in you while you chant a spell that you can use, usually that’s how it goes, but I am only cursed with one spell… Once you know your affinity maybe you can—”

“Bullshit.”

John furrowed his brows, and look at Miril.

“What do you mean? In the first place everyone has mana, you just have to chant longer while you cast a spell, I think.”

“Not everyone can manipulate mana like you, John. To normal people like me, it is just a distant dream. That’s why I am asking.”

“You asked me to explain, and so I did.” John said calmly, not letting his face scowl. “That is the norm from where I grew up.”

He is just a kid, I mean, I was somewhat like this with Rai—

John cut his thoughts short as he stared at the table, heart adrift in an ocean of questions.

“I asked, why do you know magic? How is it that you are able to do something that even high grade potions couldn’t? How did you cure my mother’s blindness that easily? When I saw you in Reperane Woods, you were covered with blood, but there was no visible injury. And even after not waking up a few days, you are completely healthy right now, John.”

“L-like I said, I simply used [Heal], it recovers all organs, even lost ones. I used it before I collapsed.”

“That is a surprisingly powerful spell,” Miril nodded. “And awfully convenient.”

“I can show you how it is. Maybe that will convince you.” John opened free right palm in front of Miril. “[Heal],” John smiled smugly as blue aura flowed from his hands like mist.

“I believe in that magic of yours,” Miril affirmed John. “That isn’t my main concern. As the eldest son of the Harvest family, I need to ask you a few more questions, before I know we can trust you.”

“Ah, sure. I understand where you are coming from, a stranger like me living here all of sudden. I do owe an explanation, especially to you.”

Though Miril can be hostile in his speech, John related to the tall boy and his reasoning. If a stranger were to make John use [Heal] to help them, he would think twice before mindlessly obey, just because it was his talent did not mean that he would be used as a tool. Miril was simply being rational with the abrupt situation he was put in.

“Do you desire anything from my family?”

“I just need a place to stay for the time being, until I have sorted out my situation… Other than that, I don’t need anything. Maybe food and clothes? Of course, I will help out around the house with that,” John rubbed his chin.

“There is no problem with any of that, you have earned your keep with that magic of yours. Next, question. What do you do for living before this. Were you an adventurer? Or are you a criminal?”

“I was a scribe and a healer. Not an adventurer, I don’t particularly love exploring.”

What’s with these questions?

“Do you wish any harm on my parents, Mera, Meli, or on me?”

“No, that’s not even something you need to ask, you can rest assured. I am not a monster.” John retorted.

Miril nodded at every John’s responses, none of them were hostile thus far. Miril knew that John was sincere because not once did he flinch from his questions, it was the conviction from his dark eyes that conveyed that to him.

Even so, I want to hear it from him.

The image of the pale man once again showed up in Miril’s mind. The way John talked, the sincerity in his speech, although Miril wasn’t elated about the fact the way John was regarded, he understood that John bore no malice to his family.

“Then, are you a demon?”

“…”

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