Chapter 9 - 1-9
"I've returned."
Laje Jink perched a crow on his left arm and opened the door with his right hand.
One-Eyed Zarko had his upper body bared, repeatedly rubbing his skin with a dry cloth. He was rubbing with a rhythmic shush-shush sound. He had learned it somewhere, but he believed that doing so was good for the body.
The crow fluttered from Laje's arm, flying around the room and shaking dust from the beams.
You idiot, you idiot, One-Eyed Zarko, you are an idiot.
"Shut up!"
Zarko's white cloth struck the air like a whip. The crow deftly dodged it, gripped the built-in perch, and let out a series of gya-gya cries.
"Laje, let's eat." Zarko's breathing was heavy, as if he were exhausted.
Laje Jink was the son of a Viscount and had never laid a finger on housework, but since meeting One-Eyed Zarko, he had become capable of handling most cooking and laundry. He had learned it while tending to the needs of this elderly mage wearing a black eyepatch. Though, ever since Zarko had been expelled from the Magicians' Association and withdrawn into the Great Forest, the opportunities to look after his daily affairs had become fewer.
"How do you view that red planet?" Zarko said.
"You mean Luv-U, which is said to cycle through our heavens every three thousand years?"
He answered while dropping the chopped vegetables into the pot. When he leaned down to peer into the hearth, it seemed no fire had been lit for a long time. He chanted an incantation to kindle the charcoal, then pulled three or four pieces from the pile of firewood and tossed them into the hearth.
Zarko sat solemnly in a chair. It was a chair made of nothing more than a cut log. A bottle of liquor sat on the wobbling table. His upper body remained bare. Laje called out to him, saying he would catch a cold, and then sat in a chair himself.
"I want an apprentice," Zarko said.
Laje felt a pain as if his chest were being squeezed. To hide the pain, he dropped his eyes to the floor and scratched his head.
It was not once or twice that he had clung to Zarko's robes and pleaded to become his apprentice. Zarko had never once nodded in agreement.
Laje Jink had been permitted to enter the Argis Magic Academy at the age of ten. He possessed the pride of knowing he was not inferior to any outstanding mage candidate. He had read all of Zarko's papers and understood them. Above all, was he not devoting himself this much?
He looked up with complicated feelings. His gaze collided with Zarko's single, round eye.
"It won't work, Laje. You will become a fine mage. If you were to become my academic successor, I would be truly happy. I should say I am blessed. But, you see... the one I want to live with, to pour my heart and soul into creating, is a practitioner. Someone who uses magic like a juggler tosses balls, and can withstand the torrent of mana that pushes the world along. That is the kind of apprentice I want."
"I am good at practice. I am even better at it than theory."
Practice, practice, the crow cried overhead.
Laje glared at the crow on the perch. The crow fainted and fell, its legs splayed out. Once it hit the floor, it woke up, scattered feathers everywhere, and fluttered back toward the ceiling.
Zarko picked up a single feather that had drifted onto the table. He narrowed his left eye and stared at it, his mouth turned down in a grimace. Eventually, he spoke.
"Three thousand years ago, when the red planet appeared in the northern sky, the Bupka Dynasty perished. Our ancestors, who lived in the valleys of Siddim, were forced into wandering until they founded a nation in this northern land. To the people of Siddim, that star is nothing but an ill omen."
A man with power strong enough to protect this country.
"That is what is needed."
"So you are saying I lack the strength."
"It's not a matter of being the right fit. What I want is someone wild, cunning, and capable of surviving in an era of chaos."
He did not want to show a wounded face.
"I'll go check on the pot."
It seemed he was not suited to be Zarko's apprentice. That was what it meant.
He shook his head while stirring the pot with a wooden spoon. He wondered why he was stirring such a thing. It was ridiculous. He had known all along that he couldn't become an apprentice. He had been rejected many times before. Even so, he remained here, stirring vegetables.
The soup was giving off a pleasant aroma.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing."
"You were laughing, weren't you?"
"Well, you see," said the magic prodigy Laje Jink, looking back at Zarko. Zarko was in the middle of pulling his undershirt over his arms. "I won't give up on becoming your apprentice. I will come here again and again. I will keep coming until you make me your apprentice."
The old man made a face as if he had swallowed vinegar.
Since it was the sour expression he had imagined, Laje laughed again.
—That's right. I don't care. As long as my will does not break, I can come here as many times as I want.
"More importantly, who are those old men?"
"They are looking for a King. That star indicates that a King has been born. A King who destroys, dominates, and creates something new. Those old geezers might be planning to embrace that King to do something."
"Do something... like what?"
"Magic. Isn't it obvious?"
"Will they come here?"
"They won't. Where they are headed now is the underground labyrinth."
"The underground labyrinth? Why?"
"They'll probably turn it into a grave. Enough, let's just drink for now. There is little we can do."
Nomo, nomo, gya-gya.
Laje suddenly became worried and leaned toward the window.
Laje had certainly seen it too. One year ago, the red star that burned in the sky for only three days.