The mercenary company traveled by carriage for a full day, finally arriving at Baron Grozia’s estate. They had departed at the crack of dawn, but upon arrival, the sun was already setting beyond the horizon, and stars were beginning to twinkle in the sky.
Yuric initially felt quite uneasy, but as he encountered the new environment, all his worries and anxieties vanished, replaced by anticipation and curiosity. He immediately wanted to capture this scenery on canvas, and his fingertips itched with excitement.
The mercenaries spent their final hours together at an inn that doubled as a tavern. The bond between the mage and the mercenaries would end that night.
While the mercenaries ate, drank, and chatted in the hall, Yuric ascended to his second-floor quarters and began sketching the cityscape visible through the window. He gazed wistfully at the moonlight, wondering if his brother was looking at the same moon.
Not long after, the mage returned to the room. “You’ve come,” Yuric said respectfully, attending to his master.
“Let’s sleep now. We need to leave early tomorrow.”
“Yes, Master.”
He didn’t ask where they were going, thinking it was too early to inquire.
The next morning, the two bid their final farewell to the mercenaries at the inn. The month-long camaraderie was summed up with a single handshake. Such fleeting connections are common. A few jolly members ruffled Yuric’s hair roughly, saying, “Stay alive, kid.”
Master and disciple then headed toward the carriage stop near the eastern gate of the baron’s estate. There, old horses retired from active service lined up with their coachmen, preparing for another arduous day. Though not particularly remarkable, this scene was a marvel and a wonder to Yuric, who had never left his rural village.
They boarded a carriage bound for their destination. After paying the fare, they climbed aboard, finding two passengers already seated inside. However, these passengers had crossed their arms and leaned their heads against the walls, already drifting off into dreamland.
Though half the seats were empty, the carriage departed without picking up more passengers. As a result, no one had to endure the unpleasant odors emanating from cramped bodies.
Thus, their journey continued for a full month, passing through four villages and two cities before reaching Mound Baron’s estate. From there, they took another carriage to the nearby floodplain.
And so, they finally arrived at the Sea of Forests, [Eldrover]. The mage’s sanctuary was located deep within a lush forest that seemed to reach endlessly upward into the sky.
The cozy yet mystical-looking cottage featured a well-tended vegetable garden and garden, resembling a painting itself.
Yuric inwardly marveled at how fitting a dwelling this was for a mage, though he knew he’d have plenty of opportunities to paint it later and didn’t rush.
“This will be where you’ll stay. Use that room.”
“Yes, Master.”
Yuric carefully opened the door his master pointed to and entered. It appeared the room hadn’t been used for a very long time; aside from a few belongings, it was empty and dusty. Still, having lived in a cramped space with several siblings, he was happy to have a room entirely to himself under any conditions.
He pulled back the curtains and opened the wooden window. The view of the sunlit garden and forest was artistically pleasing. From his bag, he retrieved a small sculpture and placed it on the windowsill. The figure of Yuric, Luke, and Yeri sitting side by side complemented the scenery outside perfectly.
As Yuric cleaned and organized his new room, someone visited the cottage. When he stepped into the living room, he saw a young girl talking with his master by the door. She looked two or three years older than him and had a cute face. Upon realizing there was someone else in the house besides the owner, her eyes widened in surprise—especially when she noticed it was a boy rather than a girl!
The girl remained speechless with her mouth agape for some time. However, the master continued speaking unperturbed by her reaction.
“Is that all you came to say?”
Only then did the girl regain her composure.
“Ah, yes….”
“Tell them I’ll visit soon.”
“I will. …Then, I’ll take my leave.”
After a light bow, the girl glanced at Yuric one last time before walking back down the path.
Yuric, surprised to meet a girl around his age in such a place, asked his master about her identity. The reply was brief: she was a fellow disciple.
“Are you done organizing your room?”
“Yes, I’m finished.”
“Then follow me.”
The master led his disciple to a secluded room in the cottage. Surprisingly, the room contained shelves filled with countless books. Yuric was astonished, his mouth wide open. Considering that even a single book was rare in most households, this collection could truly be called an ark of knowledge.
“This is where you’ll study. Practicing magic inside the house is forbidden. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Can you read?”
“A little, yes.”
“That won’t suffice. To learn magic, you must master mountains of knowledge. …It will be incredibly grueling for several years at least. Are you ready?”
“I am. No matter how long it takes, I will definitely do it!”
“Good.”
As the master turned to select a book for study, Yuric hesitantly spoke up.
“Uh….”
“What is it?”
“Well… since I’m your disciple now, isn’t there some kind of initiation ceremony…?”
The master stared intently at her disciple, then subtly raised one corner of her mouth into a radiant smile that likely ensnared many men over the years.
She extended her arm and placed her hand on his head, declaring:
“I, Hene, solemnly swear before mana to take Yuric as my disciple.”
Though not a formal ceremony, it held great significance for Yuric, marking his true acceptance as her disciple.
“Thank you, Master. I will become a disciple worthy of your expectations.”
“Good resolve. I don’t want to hear that Hene’s disciple is incompetent. So, work hard enough to kill yourself while considering your position.”
Thereafter, she skimmed through the bookshelf and pulled out two thin books, handing them to him.
“This is Common Tongue, and this is Rune Language. These are the fundamentals every mage must fully master. You cannot proceed to magical theory until you’ve completely learned these. I’ll give you a month. Learn while getting accustomed to life here.”
“Understood.”
“When you’re proficient enough with household chores, I’ll assign them to you. Your tasks won’t be too numerous.”
“Yes, I’ll learn quickly.”
Without expecting anything in return, Yuric was prepared for the hardest labor imaginable.
“Study then. I’ll be back shortly.”
“Yes, safe travels.”
Hene left the cottage and headed straight to the village of [Arphenheim], located within Eldrover. As the apprentice of the Great Mother who governed Arphenheim, the female mages in the town recognized her and bowed their heads first.
She entered the largest and most splendid building in the village. A sharp sensation of mana swept across her body as if inspecting her.
A witch in the lobby recognized her and flashed a mischievous smile.
“I heard you were coming. And that you brought something interesting along.”
To which Hene, internally amused at how fast news spread, responded casually.
“I’ve taken on a disciple.”
“You? …What wind blew you this way?”
Apparently, none suspected it would be a disciple, as the witch’s expression became startled.
“I guess I’m getting old and whimsical.”
“And it’s a boy! Hene, do you know what that means?”
“Does gender matter in magic?”
“We’re in Arphenheim!”
“There’s no law against it, and the Great Mother will decide accordingly.”
“You’re always… unpredictable.”
The witch shook her head disapprovingly, prompting Hene to chuckle lightly.
“I sometimes can’t understand myself either.”
“Enough. Wait here. Go ahead and see her.”
After briefly bowing to the other, Hene entered the room where the Great Mother resided. The woman sat at a table by the window, savoring tea.
At first glance, she appeared not much older than Hene, but she had reigned over Arphenheim for hundreds of years—a pinnacle of power.
The Great Mother.
Known simply as “Great Mother” without a name, she exuded an indescribable sense of eternity. Even the accomplished Hene felt infinitesimally small in her presence.
With lustrous black hair and elegant attire, the Great Mother gestured for Hene to approach with a benevolent smile.
“Teacher.”
Hene referred to her as “Great Mother” in formal settings but used “Teacher” in private.
“You’ve brought a boy.”
“Yes, my disciple.”
This caused the Great Mother’s smile to deepen.
“Unexpected. I thought you’d spend your life alone.”
“It wasn’t my choice. The child chose me.”
From her robes, Hene produced something and handed it to the Great Mother. It was a portrait Yuric had drawn on tree bark. The Great Mother’s eyes sparkled strangely as she examined it.
“Did the child draw this?”
“Yes. He knew nothing of magic. Yet, this drawing carries mana. It draws me in… beyond my comprehension.”
“Fascinated.”
“…Perhaps.”
Hm. Although outwardly calm, the Great Mother’s mind grew somewhat complex.
Hene was no ordinary person—she was the most talented among the Great Mother’s apprentices. That someone like her could be so captivated by a mere child’s drawing and go so far as to take him as a disciple was astonishing.
As the Great Mother continued examining the portrait, she felt an odd premonition. Having lived for centuries immersed in mana, her intuition was akin to prophecy.
This child would wield significant influence over Arphenheim in the future… perhaps even surpassing the Great Mother herself.
Many witches, including Hene, would worry and fret because of this child. Emotions would intensify… love and jealousy would arise!
Joyful and sorrowful indeed.
The Great Mother returned the portrait to Hene.
“Raising a disciple is no easy task. Nurture him well.”
