As they drew close enough to make out her features, the seasoned village headman realized who their visitor was, and at once removed his hat and bowed low.
Medipl did the same, and when the headman and the sharp-eyed elf teacher followed suit, all the villagers standing at the entrance copied their movements.
When the woman reached the entrance, she dismounted and said,
“Please, raise your heads.”
At her words, everyone looked up, and the headman stepped forward to greet his guest.
“I am the headman of this village.
What brings a mage of the Grand Fief all the way to a humble place like ours?”
“It is a pleasure to meet you.
I was appointed only last year, so this is my first time in your village.
Well, for that matter, every village I visit for a while will be my first time.”
“Please, speak to me informally.
A mage who is the only one in the Grand Fief of Atal using honorifics to a commoner is more than I can bear.”
“I will decide how I speak, so you need not worry about that.
Wow, this is impressive, though.
I have arrived at villages at night several times, but I have never seen all the children gathered together like this.”
“We were fortunate that teacher Medipl happened to be here.”
Recognizing Medipl, she gave a small nod and said,
“I see.
Ah, listen to me, where are my manners.
My name is Gladeborah.
As the old gentleman said, I am the mage dispatched by the Magic Society to the Grand Fief of Atal.
And judging by the way you have gathered the children, I suppose you already know this, but I have come to test the children of this village to see if any possess magical talent.
Oh, and this harpy and the pixie are not dangerous at all, so you do not need to be concerned.
I am rather tired of repeating this in every village, but since this is your first time hearing it, there is no helping it.”
Only then did Rimas realize that the tiny creature inside the lantern fixed to the front of her saddle was the pixie.
A pixie could give off light whenever it wished, and this female mage named Gladeborah had ridden here using that glow as her illumination.
Gladeborah walked toward the place where the fifty-nine children—everyone except Rimgaile, who had followed the headman—were gathered.
It was common knowledge that children who were too young could not yet be tested, and that no matter how early one tried, a child had to be at least five years old before anyone could tell if they had talent.
If people had known beforehand that this gathering was to test for magical ability, the households with only children below that age would not have brought them.
However, since Medipl had merely told the headman to bring out the youngsters, the headman had given brief instructions to that effect, and as a result all the children who had been in the makeshift classroom earlier, right down to babies in arms, ended up assembled.
When a child turned ten and finished primary education, their path diverged in various directions: they might become an artisan’s assistant, or advance to a higher school.
In a village like this, most would end up as farmers, miners, or stonemasons.
But if one had talent as a mage, one became a mage.
As with the other MOW classes—cleric and warrior—becoming a mage meant stepping into the ranks of the nobility in a single bound, earning a great deal of money, and rising in the world, so no one who had the gift ever chose any path but that of a mage.
Mages were so rare that there was not a single one assigned to either the minor or the median fiefs, and because of an Imperial legal requirement, one was dispatched to each Grand Fief at least.
Across the entire Empire—counting both Imperial domains and vassal kingdoms—there were six hundred and sixty Grand Fiefs, so at least six hundred and sixty mages were needed, and that figure amounted to more than a third of all mages.
Among the more than eight hundred and thirty million Imperial citizens, there were only about two thousand mages, which shows just how rare they were.
Accordingly, for a single mage assigned to each Grand Fief to test all the children in that fief for magical aptitude required an enormous amount of time.
They therefore established a rotation and toured every village belonging to the Grand Fief, so that they visited each village roughly once every three years.
Children entered school at seven and attended until the age of ten, for a total of four years, so most of them were tested while they were still enrolled, and by the time they graduated they knew they had no talent for magic and could choose another vocation—or another class, perhaps, if such things existed for them.
When a child was found to have magical talent and was at least seven years old—that is, old enough to begin primary schooling—they were immediately admitted to the magic academy.
The Magic Society had followed this practice since before the founding of the Empire, and in deference to that tradition the Empire wrote an exception into its laws, allowing the rest of the child’s primary education to be carried out in parallel at the academy.
In fact, the place where primary education had originally been conducted best was the magic academy itself.
The Empire’s primary curriculum was essentially adapted from what the academy had long taught and then applied across the entire realm.
At the magic academy, tuition was free, and the Magic Society bore all costs of food, clothing, and dormitory.
Of course, once a student was admitted and became a mage, they were bound to obey the rules of the Magic Society for life.
This had been the inviolable law of all mages since before the Empire existed, and so, where mages were concerned, the internal regulations of the Magic Society took precedence over Imperial law in all matters save direct treason against the Emperor.
If a child was very young, their parents might be relocated near the academy and provided with employment, so the child could commute from home; if the family was wealthy, a personal attendant could even be assigned to look after the student during their studies.
In short, the Magic Society extended every possible convenience to its students.
In other words, it was a profession everyone envied, and thus every parent hoped their child had been born with magical aptitude.
The parents of Whitestone were no exception, and as they watched the test that had returned to the village after three long years, they fixed their eyes on Gladeborah, hoping that this newly assigned female mage would choose their children.
Yet such hopes could almost never be fulfilled.
Children born with magical talent came into the world at a rate of perhaps one in a million, if that.
Even if both parents were mages, their children did not inherit the gift.
According to records that Medipl had read, over the last four hundred years, among all those in whom magical aptitude had been discovered, there had not been a single case in which both parents were mages, and only three in which even one parent had been a mage.
The emergence of aptitude for the three MOW classes—mage, cleric, and warrior—showed no pattern and no consistency whatsoever.
The only way to know was for another mage or a cleric to come into contact with a child and perform a test, at which point they could tell whether the gift was present or not.
Every attempt to increase the odds or identify the conditions under which such a child might be born—whether by manipulating the parents’ faith or religion, their level of education, their physical condition or time of conception, their diet, their environment, and so on—had ended in failure.
The books Medipl had consulted said that at last a high cleric had put the question to the Creator god he served, and that the oracle he had received had definitively established that this gift was a blessing bestowed at random, without any governing law.
Since then, they merely sought out children with talent, and abandoned all other attempts.
Gladeborah walked toward the gathered children.
She left the horse, the harpy, and the pixie where they were, but even without their owner, all three remained in place and stayed quiet.
She simply swept her gaze over the children from one end to the other without saying a word.
By chance, because they had gone with the headman to the entrance and were only now returning, Rimgaile and Rimas were standing about two meters behind Gladeborah, unlike all the other children.
Rimas was not a child of this village, but in any case he was due to be tested within the year, so he meant to step forward and join the group of children.
He turned to urge Rimgaile to come with him, only to see her suddenly raise her left hand high as if she were about to ask a question.
He was about to tell her that it was no use since they were behind Gladeborah and she could not see them, when Rimgaile lowered her left hand, turned her head to the left, and stretched only her right arm out straight in front of her.
Rimas had no idea why Rimgaile was doing this and could only stare in bewilderment.
Gladeborah turned to the headman and began to speak.
“I am sorry to say there is no child in this village with magical—”
Mid-sentence, Gladeborah’s gaze locked onto Rimgaile, who was now standing in a strange pose, her head turned to the left and her right arm stuck straight out in front of her.
Gladeborah broke off and began to walk slowly toward her.
Then, all at once, Rimgaile spun twice to the left and began hopping in place on one leg, lifting her right foot high with each jump.
Gladeborah watched her, then came right up to Rimgaile and said,
“That will do.
That’s quite enough.
You may stand at ease.
As I said, my name is Gladeborah.
What’s your name?”
“My name is Rimgaile.”
“I see.”
She scrutinized Rimgaile’s face, then reached out and lifted her eyepatch to look at the eye beneath.
She did not ask for Rimgaile’s permission, for a mage’s status was as high as that of a noble.
No one would complain even if she went so far as to beat a commoner, so touching the girl’s face like this was only natural.
After examining Rimgaile’s injured eye, Gladeborah said,
“Just from looking, I cannot be sure whether I can heal this eye with magic immediately.
But once you are at the magic academy, it will probably be possible.
Even if not at once, once you reach as little as Tier Seven, reversing an injury like this on your own will be nothing to you.
Now, how did this happen?”
“When I was little, I went outside the village and was attacked by a monster.
I was a foolish child, running out that far to meet my hunter father on his way home.”
“And I imagine you were clever enough to slip past the eyes of whatever adult was supposed to be watching you.
Of course, the cleverness of a child that age is full of holes, so you were unlucky, but at any rate, you are fortunate to have survived.
And from the looks of your face, once you receive treatment and your eye is restored, you will be more than pretty enough to make the most of your looks as a socialite mage in high society.”
“What is a socialite mage?”
“It is a term for the different inclinations of mages.
Some are inclined to bury themselves in laboratories and do nothing but magical research.
Others specialize in combat.
Most mages are more generalists, doing a little of everything.
But among women mages whose appearance is pleasing, some make their way into high society—the world of noble gatherings.
Ah, of course there are also male mages of ordinary appearance who become socialite mages.
But beautiful female mages do have an advantage.
Because of that, there are those who feel it is unfair for a man of plain looks who wishes to become a socialite mage.
In any case, even an ugly man is welcomed anywhere if he is a mage, and noble society is no exception.”
“What do nobles and mages do together?
‘High society’ makes it sound like you are not serving as their bodyguards…”
“That does not sound very mage-like.”
“From the way you speak, I can tell your comprehension is high and you have studied a great deal.
That is only natural for someone with magical talent.
And as for socialite mages, you would not say that if you knew more.
They are not weak in magic.
Do you know who currently dominates the Imperial House of Lords?
It is duchess Cally Owyn.”
Rimgaile could not help letting out a little gasp.
Seeing this, Gladeborah said,
“So you have heard that most august name before.”
“I have read about her in books.
She is the oldest of all living mages, a legendary mage, and they say she has no equal among all who are not gods.”
“The other MOW classes would not be pleased to hear you put it quite like that, but in any case, do not let prejudice color your view of socialite mages.
Prejudice kills mages.”
“Yes, I understand.”
The two had been talking away in a world of their own, until Gladeborah finally turned back to the headman and said,
“Amazingly, and fortunately, there is a girl with magical talent in this village.
Are her parents here?”
“There they are.”
She followed the headman’s gaze and said,
“I will speak with her parents, and if possible I will take the girl with me as early as tomorrow.
If everything goes smoothly, we will head straight for the Imperial Capital; if things get complicated, she may have to stay with me until December, but I will make sure she leaves for the Capital no later than Tredecember.
As you know, the magic academy starts its new term in early January each year and takes in new students then, but in practice, training can begin the moment a talent is found, under the guidance of a regional mage like myself.”
So saying, she led Rimgaile over to where her parents were approaching.
Her horse, unbidden, moved as well, and followed at a slow pace behind its owner, Gladeborah.
Watching the whole spectacle, Skelvis mustered his courage and stepped forward.
“Excuse me, Lady Mage.”
At his voice Gladeborah turned and said,
“I know what you wish to say.
That boy who was standing near this girl would be your son, I suppose?
You are worried that, because he was behind me, I may have missed him and failed to test him.
I regret to say that is not the case.
Your son has no talent as a mage.
I have already confirmed it.
To explain in more detail, mages who possess magical aptitude can communicate with one another without opening their mouths or making a sound.
This is called telepathy, and without it, there is no magical gift.
It is an inborn ability, present even before one has learned any magic at all.
When I conduct a test like this, I silently call out in all directions, telling the children to perform movements they would never make otherwise, if they could not hear what I was saying—because there are always one or two who try to bluff their way through by pretending to understand and replying aloud with something like, ‘Yes, I understand,’ even though they cannot actually hear me and will be found out anyway.
To a mage, it is a tremendous sound, but ordinary people cannot hear it at all.”
With that, she walked over to Rimgaile’s parents.
After speaking with them briefly and sending them home ahead of her, she turned to Rimgaile in front of the house.
“This may be sudden, but tomorrow you and I will be leaving this village.
It is your last night with your parents, so spend it well, and pack your things when you wake up in the morning.
There is no need for us to set out early.
As I told your parents just now, until you enter the magic academy next year, they can stay with us at my house as well—so long as doing so does not make it impossible for them to keep up their own work and livelihood.
While you are there, I can provide food, clothing, a place to stay for you and your parents, and even a small allowance.
Still, they do have their own work to think of, so it may be difficult for them to stay that long.
In any case, I will make sure you have a chance to see each other again before we depart for the Capital, so try not to worry too much.”
When Rimgaile said she understood, Gladeborah went on,
“I will take care of my own lodging, so go on inside, be with your parents, and get some sleep.
I will see you tomorrow.”
With that, she leaned in, pressed a gentle kiss of blessing to Rimgaile’s forehead, and walked away into the night.