Chapter 155: Serie's First Apprentice
To his surprise, she did not dismiss the girl with her usual cool indifference.
She closed her book and walked to the edge of the steps, looking down at the small elven child. "Are you lost?"
The girl nodded vigorously. "I was chasing a pretty butterfly, and then..."
"You have no sense of danger. You could have been eaten by a wild beast," she said, her critique as blunt as ever. But her gaze lingered on the girl, as if she were assessing her. She could feel a magical aura from the child. A natural talent.
But she didn't say anything. She just raised her hand, and a small, gentle light appeared at her fingertip, then shot off in a certain direction. "Your tribe is that way. Just follow the light."
The girl looked at the guiding light, then at her, her large eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and admiration. "Th-thank you!" she said with a bow, and then hurried off, not forgetting to look back at her one last time.
He leaned against the window, watching her go, then turned to Serie, who was once again engrossed in her book. "I thought you were going to just shoo her away. I didn't know you had a soft spot."
"I was just... being helpful," she said without looking up, her voice as flat as ever.
He just chuckled. Even if she hadn't, he would have.
A few days later, the girl appeared again.
This time, she was not lost. She was carrying a small basket of berries, which she timidly placed on the steps. When he saw her, she immediately ran off.
And then a third time, and a fourth...
Sometimes she would bring a pretty stone, and sometimes she would just stand from a distance and watch Serie practice her magic, her eyes filled with a pure and simple curiosity, a deep and abiding longing.
It reminded him of another young girl, from the first human village they had ever taught, a girl named Lisa.
Finally, one morning, when the girl had once again mustered her courage and was standing before their hut, her eyes fixed on Serie, the elven miss finally acted.
She stood and walked to the eaves.
"You," she said, her voice as cool as ever, "what is your name?"
"Ela! My name is Ela!" she said, her face lighting up.
"Ela," she repeated. "Do you want to learn magic?"
"I do! Please, take me as your apprentice!" the girl said with a deep bow.
"Alright," a small smile touched her lips. "I will teach you. You will be my first official apprentice."
The first time Ela, under her guidance, successfully managed to conjure her own mana, she almost jumped for joy. And even Serie's own eyes were filled with a flicker of satisfaction.
"What's with the sudden interest in taking on an apprentice?" he asked.
She was in the middle of showing Ela how to better control her mana. She paused, and then gave him a sidelong glance. "It's interesting, isn't it? To watch them stumble along, from complete ignorance to a powerful mage. The process... it should be interesting."
She had taught humans before, on their adventures, but it had always been a cursory thing, a few basic spells. Not like this, not a formal apprenticeship.
She returned her attention to the task at hand. "And besides," she said, as if to herself, or perhaps to him, "I have to find something to do. The waiting... it can be a bit lonely."
His reincarnations... they were getting longer. The first had been fifty years. Then fifty-five. The last had been sixty. He had said that he was still perfecting the spell, which was why it was taking longer. She didn't understand. If he was perfecting it, shouldn't it be getting faster? But even when she had asked, he hadn't given her a satisfactory answer. So she had let it go. As long as he came back, fifty years, a hundred... it was all the same to her. And in the meantime... she would find something to do to pass the time.
He looked at her, at the way she so patiently taught the young girl, at the way the sunlight caught her golden hair, and he saw it, a subtle shift in the once-proud and indifferent elven miss. A warmth spread through his own chest.
"Yes. Very interesting."
"Do you want to help? This child is a good material."
"I'll pass," he said, politely refusing. He wouldn't steal the title of 'most ancient magical master' from her. "But..." he drew out the word.
"But what?" she asked without looking up.
"But," he walked over to her and, seeing the look of frustration on Ela's face as her ball of light dissipated, he lowered his voice. "If a certain clueless human hadn't refused you all those years ago... that little one's place... it would have been mine, wouldn't it?"
Her hand froze in mid-air. She turned and looked at him, a long, searching look, her eyes a mixture of complex emotions. It was as if she was seeing, once again, the man who had stumbled into her life in that forest, who had so audaciously refused her, and had, in his own way, bound himself to her forever.
And then, she gave a strange, subtle smile.
She turned back to Ela and told her to concentrate. "That's different, Rhodes," she said, her voice so soft that only he could hear it. "What you have... is a much more important title than that."
Her voice was a whisper, but it sent a shiver through his own heart. He looked at her, at the back of her head as she focused on her new apprentice, and he thought of the long and winding path they had walked together, a path that had transcended the very ages.
Yes. He had a title that was far more precious, far more irreplaceable. And it was a title that no master-apprentice relationship could ever compare to.
He was suddenly glad he had refused her, all those years ago.
He didn't speak again. He just stood there, by her side, and watched as Ela, under her guidance, began her long and clumsy journey.
(End of chapter)
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