“Ah, but before that, Chief.”
There was something I needed to take care of now that I’d agreed to teach Ben.
“Is something wrong, Teacher?”
“It’s about those human traffickers. What do you plan to do with them?”
“Why, we’ll contact the mainland and hand them over to the soldiers. They sold our people without the lord’s permission—they won’t see daylight for a good long while.”
“It’s not that. I think there’s something they haven’t done yet.”
“Hmm?”
“They haven’t been searched yet, right?”
“A search? You mean…?”
“I need to retrieve the deposit money they took. They might be hiding something dangerous, so let me help!”
With a sly grin, Patrick approached the bound trio. The con artists couldn’t help but shiver all over.
“The deposit’s in the pocket at my left hip!”
“Heh. Think you can settle the principal like that? What about interest, pal? The world doesn’t work so kindly, see?”
Their tone made it impossible to tell who the real villain was.
Patrick returned the advance from the village fund—money the chief had generously added from his own pocket—untouched. But beyond that, the trio had some surprisingly useful loot.
Two decent longswords, a pair of shoes and a belt made from monster hide, a robe lined with fine cloth, and crystal ornaments.
And, most importantly—
“A detection spell scroll?”
“Yes, sir. The soldiers said the village bought a few detection spell scrolls to test if any child had talent.”
“I see.”
“We confiscated four of them, but one turned out to be real so we had to use it to verify. Sorry about that.”
“That’s understandable. A wizard needs to verify, after all.”
“So this one is genuine?”
“Yes.”
The soldiers who’d rushed over lit up at Patrick’s words. They’d always impressed him with their flexibility.
“Three remain, then… We’ll take two as evidence. And as a reward for the tip, we’ll give you the last one. How does that sound?”
Obviously they meant to pocket two and hush the wizard with one. Patrick merely nodded.
“I’m grateful you’d leave even one.”
“Glad we understand each other.”
“And this. It’s small, but please accept it.”
“What’s this?”
The soldier peered into the little pouch and broke into a grin from ear to ear.
“You came all this way—shouldn’t you have something to toast with when you return?”
“My, my! A polite wizard is a first for me!”
The items seized from the trio were sold off to the merchants who’d accompanied the soldiers. Patrick then set aside part of his earnings to hand to the soldiers.
‘It hurts to part with coin, but better this than a grudge later.’
Bound to the island and unable to leave freely, he knew it was vital to maintain good relations with the soldiers who could grant him favors.
“I saw you studying those scrolls earlier.”
A soldier, now in a good mood, tried to make small talk.
“I’m thinking of getting a few more seeds and seedlings. Maybe a magic book while I’m at it.”
“Magic book? I heard those are outrageously expensive.”
“Luckily, the entry-level tomes aren’t too dear.”
“Entry-level? Oh, right—you said you were teaching a village kid?”
“Yes. I’m no grand master, but I can teach the basics.”
“True enough. If the kid shows talent, he can get another tutor later. Do your best, then! We’ll see you off!”
Despite the soldier’s thinly veiled condescension, Patrick chuckled and bid him farewell. Ben, who’d overheard, looked uneasy.
“Kid.”
“Yes, Teacher?”
“You’re not here just to watch adults, are you?”
“But…”
Patrick ruffled Ben’s hair as he trudged back to his house, as if to say, “Get on with it.”
“Master! Make me sweet potatoes again!”
“You’re asking for sweets first thing in the morning?”
Since that day, Ben had begun treating Patrick’s house as his own.
“But I brought sugar!”
“That’s this month’s tuition.”
“You teach hardly anything.”
“I’ve told you a dozen times—you need to feel the mana in nature first.”
“I don’t care about that! I want those magic circles and incantations!”
“You can’t run before you can walk.”
Realizing he was no match in their banter, Ben puffed out his cheeks and threw himself into a sulk. Patrick pretended not to notice.
“Get outside and get some fresh air. Now.”
“What if I catch a cold?”
“I’ll have a parent-teacher meeting if you don’t behave.”
“Wow, that’s harsh!”
Invoking imaginary parents was an unbeatable card.
Once Ben was out the door, Patrick began writing a few words on scraps of paper.
‘Careful. Careful.’
The paper had cost a small fortune, so a slip was unthinkable. After neatly writing dozens of cards, he used flour paste to affix them onto a flat wooden board.
“All done.”
He’d created a set of word cards.
‘First we teach letters, then he can read the tomes—if they ever arrive.’
On his first lesson, Patrick hit a roadblock.
― He can’t read…
Without the entry-level book yet delivered, Patrick had scratched some phonetic notes in the dirt. Ben, hand on hip, had proudly revealed his illiteracy.
― Is that something to boast about…?
― I’m not ashamed. None of the village kids can read.
― ……
Thus, before teaching magic, Patrick would have to teach letters.
It felt like a university hopeful who couldn’t even add was handed a first-grade math book.
‘My lot in life.’
He wondered if taking Ben as a pupil had been the right choice.
“Waaaah!”
“Kya-ha-ha!”
With his teaching tools ready, Patrick went out to fetch Ben—but found the village children had gathered to play tag.
“What are you all doing out here?”
Ben’s daily visits had emboldened them; one by one they’d crept closer until the gang was here.
“Ben, come along for class.”
“You’re really going to teach me now?”
“You’ve got to learn letters first, kid.”
“That sounds boring.”
“If you learn letters, you can read the tomes!”
“Okay!”
As Patrick led Ben indoors, he felt a tap on the back of his head.
“…”
Turning around, he saw the other children staring at Ben with envy.
“…Want to join? It’s letter-learning, not magic—anyone can take part.”
“Can we?”
“We will!”
With a simple invitation, the children swarmed around.
“What’s this? You really want to study?”
“I want to learn letters!”
“Me too!”
“When I grow up I want to be a merchant. Teach me numbers too?”
“I want to leave for the mainland—can I if I learn letters?”
Taken aback, Patrick paused. But he understood their hopes. Though he’d longed for rural life, others dreamt of the city—everyone envies what they lack.
“Is it not allowed?”
“If you misbehave, I’ll kick you out.”
“Waaaah!”
“Thank you, Teacher!”
Before his first proper lesson, Patrick’s class had grown.
“No, no! This reads ‘sky’!”
“I—I know that one!”
“Ben, what about this?”
“That’s ‘sea.’”
“Tough.”
“Told you.”
After repeating a few cards, Ben memorized them and began writing. His progress left the others in the dust.
‘Not bad at all.’
Watching him, Patrick realized he’d forgotten something.
‘Lunchtime is coming up.’
Thanks to odd jobs around the village, his larder was modestly stocked—but not enough to feed this many kids.
‘Can’t be stingy with grub.’
Few things look worse than an adult scoffing down food in front of hungry children.
‘Tch—no choice. Time to use the flour.’
He decided to raid the sack the chief had given him. Though he’d been rationing it, he couldn’t feed the children on weeds and fish alone.
Thunk—thunk—
“Am I doing this right?”
Struggling with the flour dough for the first time, Patrick fretted over its consistency when the children peered in through the door.
“What—why are you staring?”
“Is that a rock?”
“Shh—”
“We’re just curious.”
“I’m making noodles. Since it’s for you, help out: is this firm enough?”
“That’s a rock!”
“…Should I add water?”
“Yes. Definitely.”
He hurriedly added water and worked the dough back to life, but it wasn’t easy.
At least he was trying.
“Teacher.”
“Again?”
“Will you make pasta for us?”
“No—kal-guksu.”
“What’s that?”
“Noodles boiled in broth with vegetables and shellfish. Perfect hangover cure.”
“Mushrooms go in too?”
“If we had them. But we don’t.”
“Why not? We could just pick some.”
“…Do you know how to identify mushrooms?”
“You can’t, Teacher.”
“Right.”
“I can teach you?”
Now the student had become the teacher.
‘If only I could find a matsutake.’
Patrick’s ambitions soared.