Chapter 10

Stunned, I stared at the woman's exquisite face. She was beyond beautiful, like… I don't even know. I was lost for words. I just knew she couldn't be an ordinary person—perhaps it sounded shallow, but even putting her abnormal hair color aside, I'd never seen anyone like her.

It was the pair of blue eyes underneath silvery eyebrows, sparkling like clear ice, snapping me out of my daze. She caught me looking, yet I was still slobbering over her like a neanderthal—it was fucking embarrassing.

Hurriedly looking away, I elbowed Erik in the ribs.

"Hey, come on—I can stare, but you can't. What would sister-in-law think? Besides, it's rude."

My words had some effect, but not to a great extent. Erik's mouth moved sluggishly, but he didn't say anything, nor did he look away.

I actually had to reach up and grab his face, pulling his head toward me to get his attention. Looking into his eyes, I saw his pupils completely dilated like someone on ecstasy.

He struggled to focus on me, his blurry eyes only turning clear after a second-or-two.

"…who is she?"

His voice was low and hoarse.

I shook my head, patting his shoulder.

"Get yourself together, people are staring. It's better to talk somewhere quiet."

Erik startled, then after confirming my words, he nodded shakily.

I felt sympathy for the poor guy—God knows, if I ran into a girl like her at his age, I wouldn't have stood a chance. I've fallen a lot harder for worse-looking women, that's for certain.

Unlike earlier today, I supported Erik, all but carrying him toward our little fire. Soon, we were both seated, huddling close for warmth. Fortunately, the caravanners seemed more interested in the new arrivals than our departure.

I half-expected to be bombarded with questions immediately, but that didn't happen. Instead, my brother was dead quiet, staring absentmindedly into the flames.

Finding it rather concerning, I wanted to say something, make a joke to lighten the atmosphere, but I couldn't think of anything. On top of that, Erik was giving me weird vibes, almost like Jed in one of his black moods.

Eventually, he took a deep breath, looking up at me.

"Who is she?"

Unlike before, his voice was even. I got the impression he wouldn't accept 'I don't know' for an answer.

My gaze met his.

"I don't know."

"…"

Give me a break, alright—since I really didn't know, there was no point in lying.

Erik frowned.

"I saw you talking with them."

His voice was vaguely accusatory.

I shook my head, wearing an exasperated smile.

"Not really. That guy was looking for mister Westley, and we shook hands. I never spoke to the… girl."

Not wanting to complicate things, I kept the mage's identity a secret. I got the impression he didn't want to make a scene, and there was nothing to be gained from getting on his bad side.

Resting his chin on his knuckles, Erik stared at me.

"Okay… alright. I'll greet her-… them tomorrow. They should be staying for a while. Yeah, that's right…"

Though my brother pointed his gaze in my direction, it felt like he was looking through me. His mumblings too—he was basically talking to himself.

I looked at him concernedly. His behaviour was starting to worry me. Hopefully he wouldn't develop an obsession.

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(Erik POV)

That night, Erik tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep.

It wasn't unusual, given the weather. Not only was there a chill in the air, but the persistent drizzle soaked the soil, tuning the earth into a muddy sponge. Covering the ground with rocks, branches and leaves only helped to an extent—one wrong move and you'd be filthy and soaked.

However, tonight's sleeplessness was for a different reason; he just couldn't get her out of his head. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the girl's face, clear as day. Her pale, beautiful skin, bejewelled eyes, hair like liquid silver spun into threads—she was seared into his mind.

Just the thought of that otherworldly fairy made him breathless, his heart racing and his body feverish. He didn't know what to do with himself.

Even thinking of Grace, his childhood sweetheart who he'd grown up with, barely helped. He was fond of the cute, freckled blonde, but she never made him feel like this.

Compared to the roaring inferno in his chest, his feelings for Grace were barely a flickering candle.

Was this what it felt like, truly being in love? Erik didn't know what else it could be. He wanted to see her again, introduce himself, ask for her name—he was certain it'd be beautiful, just like her.

It was only after midnight that he drifted off into a fitful sleep.

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(Arne POV)

I woke up blearily the next morning, practically laying on top of the fire. It went out at some point during the night, and I'd unconsciously drawn closer in search of warmth.

Concerned for my clothes, I hurriedly got up, patting myself down. Fortunately, they were just ashy, not having smouldered—I only had three pairs as it was.

"Hey, Erik…"

I spoke over my shoulder, absentmindedly checking my belongings to make sure nothing went missing.

However, I didn't get a reply.

"Erik?"

Turning around, I looked for my brother, but he wasn't there.

'Taking a leak, maybe?'

After scratching my head, I decided to wait for him here. At least, I wanted to greet him before staring my day.

Yet, as minutes passed without him showing up, my patience ran out. It went without saying, but I was extremely eager to start pestering the wizard—I felt about ready to burst from all the questions I'd bottled-up.

Shouldering my pack, I made for the centre of our camp. The sun had just risen, but the caravan was already bustling.

Greeting the caravanners, I kept an eye out for Erik, but didn't spot him—nor the wizard, for that matter. However, I did run into a familiar face—a mangy, unkept fellow, appearing in his forties. It was Jim, a crusty old mercenary, covered in scars and with a few missing teeth.

"Jimmy. Hey, Jimmy."

Walking up behind him, I pulled on his moth-eaten coat.

The man looked up from his task, in the process of harnessing the mules.

"Whassit?"

Though a few paces separated us, I smelled something foul—a mix of rotting teeth and alcohol morning-breath. I actually had to take a few steps back.

"Uh… I'm looking for Erik. Have you seen him? And that red-haired guy, the one from last night."

Jim just looked at me, giving me a proper stink-eye.

"I aint seen nothin'."

I sighed, crossing my arms. Jimmy was a difficult person to work with, but he wasn't that bad—the hard on the outside, soft on the inside sort.

"Come-on Jim, help me out here."

Unfortunately, he seemingly wasn't in the mood, judging by the half-kick-half-shove he sent my way.

"Sodoff."

Keeping my expression neutral, I retreated. Was making friends always this hard? I had no idea. Maybe I was just out of practice—at least I hoped so.

It was only after a bit of roaming that I finally found who I was looking for—one of them, that is.

On the camp's outskirts, Willem sat on a rock with his legs outstretched, smoking a wooden pipe. He was a lot less mysterious in the daylight, even having somewhat of a greasy uncle look.

Surveying our surroundings, I didn't see his companion, feeling both regretful and relieved.

"Hey, magic uncle."

Given we were alone, I half-shouted in his direction, not too worried about upsetting him.

Willem turned his head toward me, his eyes red. Clearly, negotiations went well last night, maybe a little too well.

"Huh? Oh, it's you—the weird kid."

He gave me a thoughtful look, sucking in and exhaling a lungful of blue-ish smoke.

Seeing my presence wasn't exactly unwelcome, I approached carefully.

"What was that last night? Was it… some kind of spell?"

On one hand, I felt like I was jumping the gun. On the other, I was too damn curious and impatient to beat around the bush.

Willem raised a bushy eyebrow.

"'Spell'? You have a real active imagination, brat. Anyway, unless you have something important to say, I'd prefer if you pissed off. My head's killing me."

The red-headed man rubbed his face with both hands, looking incredibly hung-over.

I bit my lip, jumpy and jittery from excitement. If I had the strength, I'd have wrung his neck until he talked. I couldn't do that, but there was no way I'd let him weasel out of this.

"I'm a kid, not a retard. I know what I saw."

Willem snorted.

"What did you see, then?"

I felt my eyebrows scrunching together. The guy was clearly playing with me.

"You did something to me, messed with my head."

The red-haired man chuckled, tendrils of smoke exiting his nostrils.

"You have any proof?"

His tone was teasing.

I just looked at him, feeling a vein protruding on my forehead. However, blowing my top wouldn't get me anywhere. I needed to calm down.

After taking a deep breath, I continued.

"Look, I'm not here to make trouble. I just want to know…"

I clenched my jaw, hesitating, full of expectation and dread.

"…is it possible for me to learn magic? To become a mage?"

Clenching my fists at my sides, my body trembled faintly.

Willem just looked at me with narrowed eyes. Then he smiled thinly.

"No."

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