Ch.33. Beginning (3)

The next day, morning.

“…Ah.”

Waking up early out of habit, I found myself questioning the unusually soft bedding beneath me. Only after taking in the blurry scenery before my eyes did I finally recognize my current situation.

A luxurious mattress filled with wool, and a small room made entirely of wood yet crafted with exceptional quality. Even the soft fabric on the floor that appeared to be a carpet.

This was undoubtedly the view of my room—a hastily converted storage space that my master-to-be, Druid Dalia, had prepared for me.

‘…So soft.’

I marveled briefly at the quality of the bed, incomparable to the one I’d slept on for over six years in my former home.

After opening the small wardrobe next to the desk, I found what appeared to be indoor clothes, put them on, slipped into slippers, and opened the closed door.

Creeeeak…

“Did you sleep well?”

“Y-yes…”

Opening the door revealed Master Dalia in indoor clothes, brewing what looked like soup in the kitchen.

As the pleasant aroma tickled my nose and I stood there absentmindedly, my master, who had been looking at me with gentle eyes, ladled the soup into a wooden bowl, placed it on the table, and said:

“You must be hungry. Sit down and eat.”

“…Is it really okay?”

“Of course. How could I not do this much for the child who will become my disciple?”

My master’s face was filled with affection as she looked at me as if I were utterly adorable. Finding her gaze slightly burdensome, I deliberately avoided her eyes as I sat down in the chair.

The contents of the warm bowl were a well-seasoned soup containing what appeared to be cabbage and meat.

“…Yawn.”

How long had it been since I’d had such a good meal? As I was sincerely pondering this while scooping up the soup with my spoon… my gaze suddenly shifted to the bread placed right next to the soup bowl.

It was nothing like that wretched, black, completely tasteless lump of grain flour. This bread was soft and fluffy, perhaps due to the action of yeast, and quite tender, probably from being generously buttered.

For someone like me, whose best bread in this life had been merely a white wheat bread I’d once received at a temple, this soft bread that evoked memories of my previous life was nothing short of a lump of pure emotion.

“Is it delicious?”

“…(gulp). Yes!”

The texture of the bread, tearing along its grain however I held it, was a sensation I was experiencing for the first time in nearly six years. As I was engrossed in eating the bread and stew, my master handed me a cup.

“Here, it’s milk. Drink up.”

“…Thank you.”

After finishing the truly satisfying breakfast with a glass of milk my master had given me, she sat across from me and carefully asked:

“Gregory. Can we start a simple lesson now?”

“Of course, Master.”

“Good. Then… let’s start with this. I asked this yesterday too, but I’ll ask again. What do you think magic is?”

“Magic… perhaps it’s when people use their bodies and minds to directly handle mysterious powers…”

After I hesitantly offered my guess based on what my master had told me yesterday, she looked at me with a bright smile and affirmed my answer.

“While it differs in specific areas, your answer is correct for now.”

“Really?!”

“Yes. But when we delve deeper, your answer won’t be entirely accurate. To explain more precisely… let’s start like this. The source of all magic is mystery.”

“…Mystery?”

“Yes, mystery. It’s the miraculous power that is the source of all supernatural phenomena. …Is my explanation difficult for you?”

“No. I can understand.”

“That’s good then.”

Looking somewhat concerned, my master seemed relieved upon hearing my response and smiled happily. Then she placed her right hand on the table and… formed a glowing golden sphere above it.

“Wow… is this mystery?”

“Hmm, to be honest, I don’t know either. This is something I created trying to extract pure mystery as much as possible… But mystery is fundamentally an unknown concept.”

“Unknown…”

“Yes. No one has been able to explain what mystery truly is. Mystery is just mystery, nothing more, nothing less. If that’s hard to understand… think of it as all things containing greater or lesser mysteries.”

“…I see.”

This might be somewhat overwhelming content for a five-year-old child’s brain to fully comprehend, but from my perspective—having more or less intact memories of my previous life—it was easy to understand.

The various supernatural phenomena and fantasy creatures that make this world seem like a fantasy world have their origins in what they call “mystery,” and those who handle this mystery in various ways are called mages.

Then how do druids handle mystery? As I was pondering this, my master, as if reading my thoughts, unhesitatingly provided the answer.

“And we druids are mages who contact the mysteries of nature, become one with them, and handle mystery that way. For example… like this.”

No sooner had my master finished speaking than a change occurred in the wooden cup she pointed to with her fingertip. Green leafy branches sprouted from the outer part of the cup, and something that could only be called vitality… became abundant.

“Is this druid magic?”

“Yes. Magic that empowers natural objects, sympathizes with them, and communicates with them. …It’s a bit difficult to express in words, but once you experience it yourself, you’ll understand. Our druid magic belongs to the realm of intuition and instinct.”

Even as I listened to her words, I couldn’t take my eyes off the wooden cup that had come to life. The sight of branches rapidly growing from what had been merely a carved wooden utensil was quite mystical even to me, who had been a modern person.

“While mages are scholars who extract mystery based on their own logic and theories, we druids are those who become one with nature’s mystery, commune with it, and borrow its power. And this is the magic you will learn from now on.”

“…I…see.”

“Yes. Our magic exists in a different realm from that of mages. There’s no need to determine superiority or inferiority like ordinary people who don’t understand even fragments of mystery.”

Perhaps she had some unpleasant experiences related to this in the past? After briefly drifting into thought and digressing from the main point, my master soon realized the situation and returned to the main topic.

“Gregory… do you know how to read?”

“No…?”

“Good. Then we’ll start from there. Here.”

-Thud!

What Master Dalia lifted from the floor and placed on the table was a book. I couldn’t tell the specific contents, but… it was one green-covered book that looked quite old and another with a leather cover.

I guessed, based on my master’s words, that these were probably necessary for learning to read.

“…Master. Are those books for learning to read?”

“As expected, my disciple is quick-witted. Do you have any questions…?”

“Well, um. I know learning to read is important. They say knowledge is power, right?”

“That’s right. You understand well.”

“But you spoke as if learning to read should precede learning magic. So…”

“…I see.”

My master’s gaze, looking at me as if I were incredibly cute, was quite burdensome. Coming from someone who had never received such affection—even from my parents in this life who, despite thinking parental love was a luxury, were still top-tier parents for this era—it was very uncomfortable.

“Gregory. Feel free to ask questions whenever you’re curious about something.”

“Yes, I understand. Then… does reading play a major role in studying druid magic? Just from hearing about it, I got the impression of training in the forest…”

After speaking, I belatedly regretted that this wasn’t something a six-year-old would say, but my master didn’t seem to mind.

Rather, she focused on the content of my question.

“As you said, druid magic is acquired through training, not academic study. But if you truly want to walk the path of a druid… acquiring appropriate knowledge and cultivation is absolutely necessary.”

“Druid…”

“Yes. We are druids who handle and maintain the mysteries of nature. As my disciple, knowledge is essential… and even apart from that, learning to read can only benefit you. You know that well, don’t you?”

“Yes, knowing how to read is good.”

“Good. That’s settled then.”

After briefly stroking my tousled brown hair, she pointed to each of the two books she had brought out and said to me with apparent joy:

“This is a dictionary of the continent’s common script. If you master it, you won’t have trouble reading in most places across the western continent.”

The letters looked like English… or more precisely, like the Latin alphabet but with noticeable differences. After briefly showing interest in those letters, my attention turned to the older book with the green cover.

“Then what is this book?”

“Yes. It’s the ancient language used in druid manuscripts… or more accurately, the elven language. Since most books that aid in druid training are written in the elven language, you’ll need to learn the language separately.”

“…I see.”

Finding myself suddenly needing to learn this world’s script and an independent language, I was a bit taken aback. But however you look at it, this situation was far better than living as a prospective serf, never knowing when I might die.

So I… resolved in my heart to do my best.