“…Understood.”
Fern handed the mug back to Heiter.
It’s not that she disliked being treated like a child. She just wanted Heiter to recognize her as an adult as soon as possible.
That way, she wouldn’t have to worry him unnecessarily.
The coffee kept her awake that night.
Her eyes were wide open, and she tossed and turned in bed. But no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t fall asleep. So she got up from the bed. Carrying a lantern, she rummaged through the bookshelf. Magical history, herbology, barrier techniques… Heiter had left them here, saying they’d be educational. But the content was all too dense, and she didn’t feel like reading any of them.
Something warm… Maybe a hot milk would help her sleep, Fern thought. With that in mind, she took a lantern and made her way out into the hallway.
As she made her way toward the kitchen, she noticed a light emanating from Heiter’s room. It seemed he was still awake. Curiosity piqued, Fern approached the slightly ajar door and peeked inside. There sat Heiter at his desk, engrossed in a book. His rounded shoulders shifted as he turned the pages.
Not wanting to just linger in the doorway, Fern stepped into the room. Heiter swiveled around in his chair to face her.
“Oh, you’re still awake?”
“I couldn’t sleep…”
Fern placed the lantern on the shelf and moved closer to Heiter.
“What were you reading?”
“The grimoire of Erwig the Sage.”
Heiter displayed the book he had been poring over to Fern.
Fern had anticipated dense text but was surprised to find numerous illustrations filling the pages. However, she couldn’t decipher their meaning; they appeared as intricate diagrams or peculiar smudges.
“Is this a picture book?”
“No, it’s a cipher. The illustrations obscure the content’s meaning. The actual text isn’t crucial. I was simply trying to decipher it to pass the time.”
With a thud, Heiter closed the book.
“Anyway, if you’re having trouble sleeping, how about I tell you an adventure story instead?”
“Yes, please,”
Fern replied eagerly, settling onto Heiter’s bed.
Heiter, once a revered priest in the hero party that vanquished the Demon King, was known for his captivating tales.
“Just fond memories, really,” Heiter would always remark. Yet, as he recounted his adventures, he exuded vitality and joy, inspiring Fern to yearn for her own journeys.
“So, we reached the dungeon’s depths. We were battered and hadn’t eaten properly in a week. And what do you think was in the treasure chest?”
“Precious metals and jewels, perhaps?”
“A grimoire for ‘polishing your nails to a shine’! We tried it despite our exhaustion, and as we left the dungeon, our nails sparkled!”
Fern stifled a laugh.
Though a whimsical anecdote,
it was far from the typical tale of demon slayers. Yet, it entertained nonetheless.
“Please, share more of your adventures.”
“Yes, of course,”
Heiter said in a quiet voice, as if telling a fairy tale.
He recounted tales of nearly being executed by the king, of defeating a dragon for the first time, of narrowly avoiding a party wipe…
Fern could have listened forever, but an irresistible sleepiness overcame her, and her head started to droop. She tried to fight it, but her head kept nodding.
Unable to stay upright, Fern laid down on the bed. That way she could keep listening to Heiter’s stories. But soon her eyelids felt unbearably heavy, and…
“Goodnight, Fern.”
And that was the last thing she remembered.
Upon awakening, Fern found herself in her own bed, bathed in morning sunlight.
It seemed she had dozed off listening to Heiter’s tales, and he had carried her to bed.
Embarrassment washed over her groggy mind.
At this rate, she’d never become a true adult.
Fern lightly slapped her cheeks.
She resolved to redouble her efforts in training today.
READ THE ORIGINAL TRANSLATION AT GADGETIZEDPANDA.COM
After lunch, a knock sounded at the front door.
As Fern moved to answer it, Heiter intercepted. “I’ll get it,” he said, rising.
He swung open the door to reveal a bent old woman carrying a basket. Spotting Heiter, she gasped, covering her mouth in astonishment.
“You haven’t changed a bit…”
Grasping Heiter’s hand, the woman effusively thanked him.
This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence.
The heroes had aided many during their travels, and sometimes those they’d rescued would return years later to express their gratitude. While it didn’t directly involve Fern, witnessing Heiter’s revered status filled her with pride.
“Let’s not linger out here,”
Heiter suggested, leading the old woman inside.
Fern brewed tea, recalling it as a customary gesture of hospitality Heiter had taught her. It had become second nature to her.
As she carried the cups to the table where Heiter and the woman sat, the old woman exclaimed, “Oh my!”
“Thank you kindly, dear. What a lovely young lady. Is she your granddaughter?”
“No, I’m Master Heiter’s …… “”
Fern’s words trailed off.
What exactly was she to Heiter?
To her, he was a savior, a mentor, a surrogate parent.
Well then, Fern wondered how Heiter felt about her.
As Fern was lost in thought, Heiter offered to help.
“She is Fern, and she is like my… well, my top disciple, so to speak,” Heiter said.
“Ah, I see. So Fern is also a priest?” asked the person speaking with Heiter.
“No, it’s not like that. She has the talent to become a mage,”
“I see.”
Suddenly, the old woman grabbed Fern’s hand and looked straight at her.
“I’m sure you’ll become a great mage,”
The sudden closeness surprised Fern, so she gave a quick thank you and hurried back to the kitchen.
Alone, Heiter’s words echoed in Fern’s mind.
“My top disciple, so to speak.”
So, is Fern Heiter’s top disciple? It’s a strange feeling, hard to understand. Heiter himself seemed unsure, so Fern couldn’t take it at face value. Still, it didn’t make her feel bad.
Soon, the sound of the front door opening was heard. The old woman must be back.
Heiter came into the kitchen, carrying the empty cup.
“The tea was delicious. Thank you.”
“It was nothing special.”
Heiter placed the cup in the sink, then called Fern with a solemn tone.
Fern braced herself, wondering what was happening.
“You have the talent to become a mage,” Heiter said.
Fern had heard those words before, both just now and earlier.
“But as a priest, I can only teach you so much. If you ever meet a better mage, don’t hesitate to seek their guidance,”
Fern wondered why Heiter was suddenly saying this.
Nodding hesitantly, Fern was met with Heiter’s usual gentle smile.
Summer had arrived.
The soft spring sunlight was replaced by the relentless glare of the sun, scorching Fern’s skin. Standing on the tallest rock, she felt occasional cool breezes that soothed her sweaty skin, causing her to carelessly push up her sleeves.
Of course, the training continued, rain or wind, no matter how hot. But the heat seemed to take a toll on the elderly Heiter, and lately, Fern had been training alone. The exercises were mostly repetitive, so Fern didn’t mind Heiter’s absence – in fact, she hoped he could rest at home, sparing his body.
Fern focused her magic on the tallest rock.
A flash of light shot through the air.
“……”
She had improved, able to cast the spell farther than before. But the progress had slowed down lately. How many more years would it take to reach the rock?
“I need to work harder.”
Gripping her staff, Fern immersed herself in the training.
When her magic power started to wane, she decided to take a break in the shade. Placing her staff beside her, she leaned against the tree trunk. As she idly waited for her magic to recover, a sound came from above. Droplets fell on the leaves. The dripping grew louder, and in the next moment, a thunderous roar filled the air, like countless buckets being overturned.
A sudden downpour.
Sheltered by the tree, Fern stayed dry. The sky had become blanketed in thick clouds. Hugging her knees, Fern decided to wait for the rain to stop. Thunderstorms usually don’t last long.
The scent of damp soil rose from the ground. The birdsong had ceased, replaced by the croaking chorus of frogs. The wind carried a cool, moist touch.
A yawn escaped Fern.
Sleepiness was setting in.
There was still time before sunset. A short nap should be fine. By the time she woke up, the rain would have passed.
With that thought, Fern quietly closed her eyes.
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