“We have a lot of time,” Karl gazed back with a smile, “and in this world, we can do anything.”
As he finished speaking, he elegantly flipped his pure white, slender fingers and produced a bright red rose, offering it to her. Nelly looked into his gem-like red eyes and read a thousand words. She said nothing, but she knew he completely understood her thoughts at this moment.
They sat in the noisy snack shop, facing each other across a not-quite-clean small square table, their gazes meeting.
In the end, they both just smiled.
【End】
☆、85 Sage Tower (Part One)
Gerard first met the Great Sage before entering the Sage Tower.
With a different imagination from the outside world, most Kalinsians, while revering wizards, do not wish for their children to become wizards. The price associated with this glamorous title is too high: sending a seven-year-old child into the high-walled Naissier, and then being unable to see the child for over a decade or even longer. Even if the child one day becomes a high-ranking wizard, it is uncertain how much affection remains with the family. Moreover, the path from apprentice to wizard is full of thorns, with only one or two out of ten completing it, which shows the extraordinary requirements for an apprentice’s talent. Therefore, if conditions allow, clan members would never send their talented children to the Sage’s Tower.
But this is the thinking of most people.
It has become a convention for Kalinsian noble families to produce a few wizards.
Gerard was a child almost destined to become a wizard from birth.
At four years old, Gerard first revealed his talent for spatial deconstruction and was chosen by the clan leader as the unquestionable candidate for this generation to enter the Sage’s Tower. This was the version others told, but Gerard’s impression of this life-changing event was vague: he only remembered an uncomfortable old man talking to him, asking many questions he couldn’t recall; the clan leader’s tone was kind, but even as a young child, he could discern the coldness and authority in the trembling of the snow-white beard and that voice.
After that, no one mentioned the clan’s determination of his future, but Gerard still felt something had changed. While lecturers taught him magic-related knowledge, his brothers and sisters played by the fountain in the garden; when other children went to sleep early, he had to follow his teacher to the gloomy basement to practice simple magic with gems.
Gerard had been confused and angry about this, but his father would only order him not to say another word, threatening physical punishment for any resistance; his mother would embrace him after the beating, telling him to be obedient. The young Gerard endured the pain and lay on his mother’s chest, occasionally looking up at her complex expression that made him feel sad. Following her gaze, he saw his silent father standing by the window.
To avoid making his parents sad, Gerard gave up resistance and accepted the arduous coursework.
In the overwhelming reading, Gerard’s mind matured rapidly. He gradually understood that he must become a Naissier wizard, the only requirement from the vast family he was part of. From the day he understood his mission, he began to call himself by name, just like his younger brothers and sisters.
This was his only resistance to the family responsibility.
After three years of preparation, the day finally came when the Sage’s Tower messenger arrived. The messenger would assess all children of appropriate age, but both sides knew the true candidate.
A series of seemingly ordinary small tests – drawing with sand, building fortresses with stones, finding answers in water waves – only Gerard, who had been trained, could truly comprehend the examiner’s intent.
Only Gerard’s sister, after the test ended, excitedly rushed over and grabbed his sleeve, shouting, “Brother, you’re so amazing!”
Gerard just smiled, patted his sister’s head, and followed the clan leader through the beautiful winding corridor to the front yard of the ancestral home he had never been to before.
“This time, it’s not just the messenger,” the clan leader suddenly stopped and said flatly, “the Grand Sage himself is here.”
Gerard immediately understood that this old man would definitely make a demand, and no matter how unreasonable, he would have to fulfill it.
“Please answer my question honestly,” the clan leader turned back, obviously hesitating, and with difficulty bent down to look directly into Gerard’s eyes. Each of his syllables carried a heavy weight, striking Gerard’s heart painfully. He asked, “Gerard, are you willing to enter the Sage’s Tower and become a wizard?”
Gerard tried to straighten his thin back, looking back into the elder’s black eyes.
He could see nothing.
“Gerard is willing,” the green-haired, slightly feminine-looking boy answered in a crisp voice, revealing a smile. But this was a coldness not belonging to a child, like icy water flowing from a deep spring carrying dark secrets.
The clan leader’s pupils contracted slightly. He stood up, nodding: “Very good.”
But Gerard could feel the gap between him and the clan leader had deepened, even covered with new frost. In the south of Kalinseia, there was neither frost nor snow – what he had seen was snow created by magic in the cellar. It was fragile and cold, each detail exquisite to the point of losing vitality.
Shortly after, Gerard arrived in the most elegant reception room of the front yard. He showed no nervousness and asked about the mosaic on the corridor floor and its story.
The clan leader told a story he had never heard before.
“This is a myth most people are familiar with,” the clan leader said, with a hint of compassion in his eyes.
Yes, a myth that a seven-year-old child should know, but Gerard had never had the chance to experience it.
The deep lineage of magicians was his reading material.
When he finally reached the door, Gerard felt a sense of dependence on the clan leader. The elder expressed kindness for the first time, patting his shoulder and encouraging, “Go ahead.”
The reception room was empty, and Gerard tried to tread lightly, but his footsteps were still clearly audible. Through the magic curtain woven with spells, Gerard could only vaguely see a figure in a linen-colored robe, unable to distinguish gender.
He recalled the etiquette for meeting the sage, hastily lowering his gaze and lifting his robe to perform the complex ritual.
The person behind the curtain quietly waited for him to complete the formalities, still not speaking.
Gerard knew the other was examining him. Perhaps the sage could see things ordinary people couldn’t and use this to assess his aptitude. At that moment, he regretted not losing his composure, as that would have allowed him to return to a normal life; even a life as a despised failure would be fine…
An ethereal female voice sounded: “Raise your head, come in.”
Gerard was instantly drenched in fear: Could the sage truly have mind-reading abilities? He stood up straight as instructed and slowly walked towards the mysterious curtain.
As if not giving himself a chance to retreat, he walked faster and faster, almost crashing into the space behind the curtain.
Then Gerard witnessed an unprecedented wonderful scene. Colors and lines danced around in the most perfect manner, performing a wild yet restrained dance. But the most beautiful thing was the magic hidden behind it. Gerard immediately found the pattern and murmured, “How pure, how beautiful the magic is.”
“Is this what you see?”
Gerard then remembered to look at the sage. It was a veiled woman, sitting cross-legged on a large stone.
“Yes, it’s the most beautiful magic Gerard has ever seen. Is this your magic?” This was actually very impolite, but Gerard had forgotten this.
