With a Love Sorceress, I’ll Meet My Hero

“Cursed?” I mumbled again under my breath. What did that mean? Was Mia’s family in some sort of trouble? I never remembered Amamiya’s family having any issues back in Japan...

Hastily, I pulled the opal-like stone from my pocket. I tapped on its surface, but instead of a bird appearing, it just glowed a bit brighter.

The stone echoed Claire’s voice. “Did you get lost already, Roki?” she chuckled

“No!” I refuted. I shook my head. “I just overheard some merchants talking, and I wanted to know if Mia was, well...cursed?”

“Cursed?” Claire sounded surprised. “Why, no, not by any magic.” The sorceress then was silent for a moment, before adding, “But it is something you and Mia should discuss when you get back.”

I let out the nervous breath I was holding.

As long as Mia wasn’t in any immediate danger, I could go on with my day.

Reassured, I kept towards the settlement of Sivan. With my hat of illusions, no one would know I was an elf. If I brought Mia there on a date, she and I could talk more freely. Maybe I could ask about the rumor then.

Distant mountains were blue in the haze, while nearby orchards filled the summer air with the scent of fruit. I brushed the sweat from my brow, wondering just how far away this settlement could be. I’d been walking for an hour at least, and the rising sun was only making the day hotter. Though I had better stamina as an elf, I was still pretty sure I’d get a nasty sunburn if I was out here much longer.

Thankfully, the sight of buildings soon appeared on the horizon. My spirits rose as I rushed into the town walls. Sivan was a much larger settlement: its borders surrounded by a brick wall, and its streets lined with cramped buildings. The homes here were made out of red clay, their rudimentary arches reaching for the sky in three-story households. I was reminded of the tight and winding streets I’d seen in travel brochures for Italy. And luckily for me, just like in those brochures, Sivan’s main street was practically a marketplace: with little bakeries, shops, and produce carts lining the cobblestone road.

Suddenly, I understood why Claire sent me here. It was a long walk, but this was clearly a perfect date spot!

The only problem now was the crowds. Standing there on that main road, taking it all in, I was shoved aside by the constant stream of people. Carriages and merchants pushed their way through, hurrying to go about their business.

I spied a poster hanging on a wall, advertising the play in town. No wonder Mia didn’t want to go. Even the streets of Sivan were busy! I’d have to find someplace quieter to take her if I wanted her to be comfortable.

Holding onto my hat, I dove into the thoroughfare. Although I’d hoped to find a café, it seemed such things didn’t exist in this world yet. A bakery was a close second, but after the walk, I was dying for water. I decided to duck into a tavern first to catch my breath before continuing my search.

Considering that it was mid-afternoon, the tavern wasn’t too busy. I sunk into a chair at the bar, grateful for the cool shade of the indoors.

“Water, please,” I requested. I shuffled through my coin satchel and placed a copper on the counter (careful to avoid showing any of those frightening gold coins.) Upon seeing this, the waitress took the coin with a smile and brought me back a whole pitcher, complete with ice.

Just what insane amount of money had Madam Claire given me?

Still, I sat there and drank the water straight from the pitcher, silently grateful for Claire’s foresight.

“Did you hear about the elf?”

I nearly spat out my drink.

The rumors had spread even here? I frantically spun around, realizing the sentence wasn’t directed towards me. It was from a table just to my left, where a group of adventurer-looking types were talking to each other.

“Elf?” The gruff man of the group chuckled. “Nothing worth talking about, they’re just sheltered wise-men and nothing more.”

Next to the gruff man, a woman in armor clicked her tongue. “Remember, they can cast magic.” She shivered upon saying the word.

“Blasted mages,” a younger, spiky-haired man spat.

Wait, was magic not considered a good thing in this world? Were people afraid of mages?

More importantly: since I was an elf, did I have magic? My inner child suddenly wanted to shout out an attack name just to test the theory.

But the spiky-haired youth grumbled and spoke again. “I’ve heard the elf is living with the Faralind family. Of all the households, why them?”

The armor-clad woman laughed darkly. “Well, I heard Miss Faralind proposed to the elf! Gold-digger that she is! Didn’t they already get enough with the inheritance?”

Suddenly, I clenched my fist against the bar top.

The gruff man let out a scoff. “Disgraceful, that Faralind lot. Should have gone down in the fire with their one useful family member.”

I shoved back my stool. I raised a fist, wondering how far an elf could punch a man.

But I never had the chance to find out.

When I turned to face the gossiping group, my eyes widened in shock.

Someone else’s foot was in direct contact with the gruff man’s face: drop kicking him in slow-motion before my eyes. The boot made contact and echoed through the man’s cheek.

The gruff man went tumbling onto the floor.

The kicker landed with a thud, clapping his hands free of any dust, grinning with a smirk. The smirk didn’t last for long.

“Toren!” The waitress from behind the bar admonished the kicker, yelling his name while brandishing a broom. “How many times have I told you to stop attacking the customers? You freeloader!”

“Whoops!” The kicker, presumably Toren, ducked down as a broom whooshed over his head. Toren frantically hid behind me to escape from the waitress’ wrath.

Then, the gruff man on the floor started to recover. He and his companions turned towards me, reaching for their weapons.

“H-hey,” I stuttered, putting up my hands defensively, “I’ve got nothing to do with this.”

I was just an office worker. Sure I’d thrown a few punches at my friends before, but I didn’t know how to handle an actual bar fight.

Yet, the gruff man approached and took a swing with his burly fists, aiming right for my face. I scrunched my eyes closed, prepared for the pain.

Then, when no pain came, I felt a rush of wind. I opened my eyes, only to see that Toren had grabbed me and carried me away in his arms.

“Sorry about this!” Toren laughed, heading for the door. “Time to go!”

“What?!” was all I could manage to scream back.

Looking over the events, I suddenly realized...wasn’t this how the lady was supposed to be saved by the dashing rogue?

We reached the busy roadside, away from the sight of the tavern. The second we were in the clear, I punched Toren in the forehead and jumped away from the interloper.

“What are you doing?” I yelled at him.

Toren held his head, rubbing it in pain. “Y-you’ve actually got a rather strong punch there, fellow. I took you for the frail type. Didn’t want you getting caught up in my problems.”

Nervously, I fixed my hat to make sure it hadn’t fallen off. “Why are you drop-kicking people in the middle of a tavern?” I sighed.

He put a hand on his waist, frowning. “Didn’t like the way they were talking,” he grumbled. “You were about to sock ‘em too, weren’t you? I saw that fire in your eyes. Figured I’d kick first, since I’m known for causing a mess.” Toren laughed and held a boyish grin. “This way, you can blame it all on me. Just tell ‘em ‘Toren did it’ and trust me, they won’t even remember that you were there.”

I glanced up in surprise. Did Toren do that to prevent me from getting in trouble?

The young man let out a disappointed breath. “I’ll have to find another job, but that’s nothing new.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

It was then that I noticed that my savior had a pair of cat ears on top of his head, and a tail to match.

This took a moment to processes.

“Seriously?” I cried.

Toren glanced at me with his yellow cat-like eyes, confused.

“I could’ve been a cat boy in this world?!”