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The Undying Star

A star? I wasn't even close to being something as beautiful. But... undying? Yes. I was. Since death never ever accepted me into its embrace. So what if I live this story to its end one more time? Just one last time. I want to feel it, living, rather than death. Only once. What awaits me at the end of this never-finished draft, I wonder... Is it the cure to my curse, or yet another rebirth?

daniz_ · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
133 Chs

Shrine

"Where are you going?"

For some reason, this nobleman kept following Ian wherever he went, even when he was searching for the source of the rippling mana. 

Why couldn't he just get lost?

"Into the woods? Why? It might be dangerous!" Alaric rushed to his side, yapping nonstop. "The monsters and elementals are gone, but what about wild beasts? It might get dangerous."

A faint trail of strange mana was drifting in his direction, hinting on him to follow, as if a twinkling light was showing them the way they needed to take. Once he felt the flow, Ian didn't hesitate to rush at it.

Ian needed to examine whatever seemed different to be than normal. It wasn't solely because he was worried about the effects such changes could have on his plans. Why would he miss his chance of finding new entertainment in this boring life? Even experiencing a new form of death was welcomed, of course, he hoped that not happen this time around. 

"Let's not go there alone. Should I wake the others up? Probably Raven?" 

"Haaaah!" Ian puffed his cheeks in frustration, "Can't you just shut up," He paused, "Young master?"

Had to be courteous.

"I... Definitely can. But I don't want to."

As they walked, they left the village and entered the woods. The path they took didn't seem to be a frequent pathway, but there were fewer woods and a slightly paved ground on their way.

"Shouldn't you be resting? You seem about to pass out."

"No."

"Maybe wear some clothes? It's cold."

"Weak."

"Eh?"

Alaric folded his arms, rubbing his palm on his forearm to warm it up. A night in the jungle especially in the autumn was too chilly for anyone to wander around in pajamas. How was he weak for feeling cold? Ian just used any chance to disagree with him. 

Feeling helpless, he reached out a hand and cast a spell around them. A layer of shield was formed, followed by a region of warmth. 

Ian neither thanked nor said anything regarding his action. After a few minutes of silently walking into the jungle under the faint moonlight, he finally couldn't hold it up.

"Don't you really sense the flow of mana, or are you just pretending to be a fool?"

He was following the trail of mana when he wasn't a mage at all. So wouldn't someone with higher mana sensitivity feel the same flow, even better than him?

Hearing that, the nobleman's eyes went wide. 

"H-How did you know? You aren't a mage!"

Just as he expected.

"Haaah! Fool!"

"No, really, how did you know? I only felt something amiss once I got lost searching for the toilet."

Ian's steps came to a momentary halt.

"...You did really get lost searching for a toilet."

And why did he talk about it as if it was normal?

Ian decided not to think about it.

The trail of mana got stronger and more clear the more they walked into the jungle. Now Ian could approximately tell where the source of the storage ripple was.

"I thought I was just hallucinating and was on my way back to sleep... But is there really a problem?"

"I've got no idea."

Did such a thing happen before? Ian had no recollection of such an event.

Which meant this one was a first. 

Again.

That was also why he was tolerating this fool tagging along. Since Alaric was the key point in every one of the differences he'd encountered thus far. Good thing Alaric could sense the phenomena himself, or Ian would have to go through a hassle to explain it to him.

"Here..."

Where he found himself standing in front of after a few minutes of following the trail of mana was a tiny run-down structure. The place was covered in grass and run over by vegetation. The walls and pillars looked close to crumbling, and nothing much remained of the pointy edges of the stairs leading to it. Despite everything, the whole thing had somehow managed to keep its original shape.

It was an old shrine. 

'The abandoned elven shrine...'

The area was empty. No trees nor any thick vegetation. In addition to that shrine, multiple old buildings could also be seen, lined up one after another in an orderly manner. Some were houses, while some were other kinds of buildings used for multiple reasons. 

'The old elf residence.'

The village was built far in the distance, in ancient times. A place that was long abandoned by the race and left to rot and be destroyed. 

The current elves had forgotten about this place, to the point that most of them were unaware of its existence. It was natural, since the place wasn't somewhere they frequented, and they had no reason to visit it for generations. Even if some wanted to, it was mostly impossible to do so, as elementals usually prevented them from passing through this place. The location was a home to those creatures.

"Wow... Where is this place?"

The area was even colder than before. Alaric, finding it impossible to resist the chills, cast another heating spell on top of the previous ones. Instantly, a warm wind began swirling around them. 

"Weeeh... This is a true scene out of a horror movie!"

"..."

Out of a what?... No. Nevermind.

SWOOSH

A sudden cold breeze wheezed from nowhere. The tree leaves whistled, and the grass swayed restlessly. 

Alaric almost jumped up in fright. 

"I-I-Ian! Let's go back. Let's go back and bring Raven with us! Please, please, please!"

"Shh."

Ian ignored his master's ramblings and approached the shrine. The rundown and old building had been abandoned for ages, with no one to visit or pray there. 

Yet, there he could see, the clear and evident trail of footprings. 

And something lying down at the altar of the shrine. 

'Someone came here... But who?'

He looked around, but couldn't find anyone. Neither human nor elf, no one was there. He even used his Aether to do a better check, but no trails of a lifeform could be felt.

How strange.

Wondering about the identity of the visitor, Ian walked up closer to the shrine. The other boy had no choice but to stick to him out of fear. 

'Why now? Nothing changed in the outcome of the village's battle with the elementals... I've repeated the same scenario multiple times...'

He sent a sideways glance at Alaric as he entered the shrine. The boy was stuck to him the whole day. No way he could've done anything out of the ordinary to change the flow of events. 

'And they left... a book here?'

As he walked closer, he could see what lay on the altar. It looked to be a book or a notebook. The appearance, the style, the color of the papers, everything screamed its old age. Ian carefully touched its cover. Judging by the material used to build it and comparing it to the ancient Bibles and texts he'd seen in his life, the notebook was at least a few hundred years old. 

'What in the world...'

Ian carefully flipped the hardcover over. Even after so many years, the thing seemed to be in a good state, indicating that a spell was probably cast on it to keep it from rotting and getting destroyed. 

Everything was abnormal.

But what he saw on the first page was leagues out of his expectations.

"..."

Ian stared at the notebook, frozen stiff. After a second of shock, he flipped the pages. His heartbeat increased ever so slightly as he felt his blood surge. 

'Why is this...'

A language he didn't know. 

For him, who knew almost every language spoken on this continent, this was one that he couldn't even read. A new one he'd never seen in any ancient book or text.

But he was familiar with it. 

"Hey, what's that you're looking at?"

Alaric poked his head forward, curiously searching for what was making Ian so shocked. He wanted to see the thing that was giving away such a strong mana. 

"Wha..."

But then, he similarly froze.

Eyes instantly widened and jaw-dropping, Alaric stared at the contents of the notebook with a perplexed look. 

"What is this..."

To Ian, this looked like the very same language he saw Alaric scribe on the first day of his regression. 

The only time he'd never recognized a language. He kept a clear memory of that time in his mind. How could he forget it?

"..." "..."

The two of them stared at the contents of the notes before turning their heads, and locking eyes with each other. Despite being shocked, Ian's face recovered back to normal soon, but not the nobleman's. He was making such a face... 

"I... Uh, this..."

After a few seconds of deathly silence, Alaric finally reached out to flip the pages for a little bit. He then stuttered in a low voice, unable to contain Ian's continuous glare on him. 

"This is a diary... It seems..."

I demand comments!

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