Early Departure

That year, Naobi's departure at dawn was celebrated by the first breath of winter's veil. It was an embryonic whisper, none expected it. The majestic Meru itself gnawed underneath the misty guise, and the village in its early slumber, prayed to the Herald of long nights: Emoinu Ahongbi.

Korou in a dazed awakening, knelt by the altar in his home. His hand clasped, praying for his Master's safe travel. Behind him, his mother, Anemone, chanted spells in the rhythmic Lamphi lon, directing the cooking quickly. She worked with a scowl. Her disdain towards magic, pertaining to housework, was no secret. But today was an exception.

The erum door creaked in Nongyak's arrival. With it entered misty eddies. Korou tugged at the sleeves of his Chuba, guarding his quaverig skin. His father took quick steps to deliver the 'Pengba', indigenous fish of Lamphi, once fried, a toothsome treat. Naobi loved them.

"It's the first time since the Sun Emperor's descent that we got snowfall as early as this," said Nongyak, with a soft knowing smile.

"Unified Ukiyan era?" Korou queried with a sneeze. He was sure it was way later but had to say something. An old habit of his.

"Centuries after that," confirmed Nongyak, draping Korou in his frost-wolf coat. "Early years of the Fifty-Year War, to be precise."

"Contemporary mages era." Korou snuggled within the warm layers of silver fur. "Didn't we have an ancestor in that war? A general within the Imperial army?"

Nongyak's gaze glowed with pride as he sat cross-legged beside him. "My great-grandfather." He nodded. "He led the Crimson Light Brigade."

Korou knew his modern history. Fifty-year war, a century of turbulence, a battle between two sects of the Sophian church and a devastating blow to the Ukiyan economy. Athongba Leina had drilled it all. Although the redundant glazing over the roles of Kangleipak Shamans always felt like Provincial propaganda rather than facts.

"We read about him, fought the Greater Demiurge in the South, and slayed the Narwhal." Korou recited his scrolls. "He was also responsible for victory at Lichtflamme."

"They teach you that in a Monastery?" asked Nongyak in awe.

"In great detail," Korou added with a sigh. "They are fun tales, but lack facts."

"Tales have roots in reality, don't dismiss a claim just because you couldn't see the evidence." Nongyak gave him a pat and smiled. "Athongba Naobi tells me, you have a bad habit of that."

Woosh

Overhead, a kukri flew by, its edge brushing past his father's hair. Korou gasped. His mother stomped in annoyance.

"Holy Pakhangba! This is why I hate using magic!" She grabbed the hilt and chopped the freshly skinned Crownbill. "Nono! Korou! You guys are useless when it comes to helping! Just sit at one spot for God's sake!"

Thus, their morning conversation came to an end.

"Do I need to be the one to deliver?" Korou cast a strained gaze over the neatly packed lunch box. He was sure his mother had put in much effort, but it was too cold.

"She is your master," Anemone replied with a stern gaze.

"But it's cold, ma." Korou cried and shot a pleading gaze at his father. He was too busy frying the 'Pengba'. And after the knife incident, he had quietly joined in the cooking effort.

Anemone rolled her eyes and chanted in Teutonic. Each word spoken carried a gravity that Lamphi Lon lacked. It was neither melodic nor rhythmic; the sounds never changed. It sneered on the edge of hostility. And then it ended.

The shivering in his skin languidly dissipated in its place, trickling warmth.

"I presume you no longer bear any complaint." She shot him a quick grin.

"If you knew such a spell, why did you not use it before?" Korou scowled and crossed his arms.

"Visualisation is a pain, and I can't have my lazy son always get cosy." She shot a playful wink and pushed the package towards him.

"It's called being efficient." Korou retorted.

"Once you are done with your preliminary Readings, I will teach you," Anemone assured him by shushing him away. "Now leave, or you'll miss her."

Korou raised his brow. For a morning delivery, his mother was being overly pushy.

"By any chance, did Master set you up for this? A test? Or discipline?" He whispered through the closing door.

"Maybe?" Anemone grinned and shut the door on him.

"You too?" Korou shot Atla a sympathetic gaze. They were strolling down the long, winding Umang. She carried a tower of timeworn tomes. Courtesy of Naobi.

"I don't want to talk about it." She skipped a step, her sandal clicked against the gravelled path. Crimson butterflies were swaying with joy, with Cyan trails swirling in circles over them. A greeting perhaps?

"It might help," Korou rattled his satchel. "I am in the same boat as you."

"No, you are not." Atla shot back.

"You are delivering those books to Master, I am the lunch boxes-"

"Korou," Atla shot him a trembling smile. It lurked on the edges of evil. "With all due respect, shut up."

Korou, much obliged.

On the sand-worn floor of the training ground were geometrical shapes drawn with chalk powder. It resembled a nonagon. Some lines ran in between connecting each vertex to the centre, and over them were symbols, some in Lamphi lon, others maybe in Teutonic and Eternan, but what caught Korou's attention was the pictogram of a closed eye with an alphabet that resembled Hokkaido Shinyobun.

Over the centre, treaded five Athongbas, their feet carefully placed away from the lines and inscriptions. Their gazes were locked, as they discussed terms such as: wind speed, flight distance, weight distribution and altitude control.

Over the eastern periphery, adjacent to them were Laishram and Iromi. They held a windsock. Ibo was present as well, but he was slumbering behind his siblings.

"Is the master's departure some kind of special event?" Korou queried.

"No, it's an annual vacation," said Atla in a sneer. Whatever Naobi had directed the girl to do, Korou wasn't intent on knowing. "However, flying long distances is a treacherous affair."

"Can't she just zoom through the sky?"

"You are the smart one, just guess why that isn't feasible."

Despite the whimsical visuals, Korou knew this world's magic was grounded in laws of practicality. It was disheartening to his innocence, but reassuring to his intellect.

"Air resistance?" He tried.

"Close but not enough." Atla placed the bundle over the erum table and stretched. "Grandma has added the handbook on flying by Megastheles to the reading list. You will find answers that satisfy your needs in there."

"Is that what you were doing the entire night?" Korou picked up the first book from the pile. Its cover was worn, its pages rusty, as he riffled through the pages. It was in Teutonic script, so he couldn't read the texts, but the appearance of numbers with symbols like √π, ÷ and × made its content clear.

"I am not sure whatever you are implying." Atla turned her gaze towards the towering Pagodas. The central one, the void chamber, flashed red light. "Also, that is a signal for no flight-"

"You didn't have to bother yourself with retrieving them, Atla," Korou placed the book with a thump. "I would have done it myself..."

"It wasn't a bother, honestly," lied Atla, playing with her loose strand. "Most of the readings were what I must read for Parīksā anyway. Plus, these volumes were not available in Sanctorum anyway; I had to dig them from within Grandma's personal collection."

Korou pulled her into a hug. Atla was the kind of person who would put others over her own well-being; it was a flaw and her greatest asset. And something Korou deeply respected. Someone very dear to him in his previous life carried a congenital virtue. Back then, he couldn't appreciate her, but now he opposed repeating the errors of another lifetime.

"Thank you." He mumbled.

"I wasn't aware that pointing out your communication flaw would make you this open," grinned Atla. Her palms gently caressed his back. "And you are welcome."

"Did you catch some sleep at least? Don't you have an evaluation today?" Korou was frantic. He was mad, then he was grateful, and now he was panicked.

"Calm down, dumb brat. This girl knows her limits."

"Shut up, dork warrior," He pulled away and gave her an accusing stare. "Limits, do you even understand what that term means. I am sure you spend the entire night comparing the Master's barely passable scribble and the book titles."

"Oh shut up, dumb brat." She spat back with flushed cheeks. "It wasn't me who wrote an exam with his right hand tied out of spite."

"That was...ugh, just a phase." Korou defended. He knew he would lose ground here if Atla started pointing out his flaws. Heck, she knew everything about him. "But this is not about me, it's about you!"

"Wow," Atla shot him a glare. "I spent my precious sleep retrieving your books, because Pakhangba knows how much you have been looking forward to reading them, and suddenly it's not about you!"

"This doesn't make any sense."

"Then make sense of it, you are the smart one."

"Alright, you two," Naobi thumped her staff over the earthen floor, breaking their contention. "It's too early to indulge in amorous disagreement, at least wait until he is thirteen, granddaughter."

"What?" Atla's eyes widened as her cheeks heated up intensely.

"I think you are confusing the nature of our relationship, Master. She is simply my caretaker," replied Korou with unnerving confidence. "Also, I am seven, don't you think such a claim should be left until much later?"

That earned him a tight slap over his head from Atla and an amusing smile from Naobi.

Korou later learned that to fly, one needs to follow international bylaws penned down by Megasthenes. An Eternan scholar who lived during the Unified Ukiyan Era.

"Speed and weight are heavily correlated," Naobi explained, as Korou placed the ice pack over his swollen cheeks. "But what matters the most is the weather. When travelling long distances, if the flyer can't predict changes in the synoptic pattern, it can cost them their life."

"I get the concept," Korou gave her a nod. "But what about the spell? Is that included in his works?"

"No, that's courtesy of Zaüber," Naobi concluded. "One can't learn the hypothesis behind flight unless they enrol there."

"Thank you for the lunch." Naobi pushed the lunchbox into her satchel and then picked up her portmanteau.

"Thank Ma, not me," Korou waved his hand in dismissal. "She was the one who had been at it since dawn set in."

"But you did deliver it." She reasoned.

"Only because you set up Ma for it."

"But you did follow through." Naobi didn't deny his claims.

"You could have asked directly." Korou sighed. The light from the void chamber was now a blinking yellow. And the Athongbas had finally concluded the pre-flight checks.

"It wouldn't be as fun." She shot him a cheeky grin.

"Define fun so I know what to expect from you, master."

"Stubborn you are."

"Like you are one to speak."

"Fair enough." Naobi broke out in a light giggle.

She was far from the intimidating headmistress he had encountered three months ago. Her demeanour did carry the dignity of someone of her stature, but her persona was more approachable. He really wished they could have had their classes as planned.

"I apologise for the classes," said Naobi after a pause. "It wasn't my intention to give you a delayed intimation, and honestly, it did slip my mind."

"Oh...umm." Korou wasn't sure what he was supposed to say. Apology accepted? But he wasn't sure if Naobi had done anything wrong. Heck, in his previous life, it happened all the time. The prolific professors, except for some sincere ones, are notorious for last-minute cancellations. He wasn't a big fan but understood the circumstances around it.

"Just accept the apology and move forward, dumb brat," muttered Atla with puffed cheeks. She was still mad about what had happened before. And Korou is oblivious.

"Thanks?" He replied in uncertainty, but Naobi smiled back.

"You are welcome." The flickering yellow turned to a still green. Ibo, computing some numbers that Athongba Yaiphabi had provided, gave a thumbs up to Iromi and Laishram.

The two pushed the windsock up, measuring the direction.

Naobi shot everyone a glance and then nodded. With a joyous sway, she rapped her staff and walked into the nonagon.

"Korou," Her gaze was cast downward as she mumbled. It was barely audible with the Cyan trails swirling around her feet. "Regarding magecraft, it's better you don't speak too much of it."

His brows knitted in confusion as he tilted his head. "Why? Is it taboo?"

"No," She shook her head with a rueful smile. "People here are simply too attached to the past."

And with that, Korou's first class supposedly came to an end. The wind around her erupted in an upwards spiral, as the Cyan trails dissipated, forming a veil over her body. The lines and symbols at the nonagon glowed in golden light, and with a roar, Naobi took flight.

That was the last time Korou saw his Master that year. Her return won't happen until two seasons later.