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Allen,
How have you been lately?
It's been almost a year and a half since we last saw each other. Have you grown taller? You always claimed to be 160 cm, but that's clearly nonsense. Rudeus mentioned in his letter that you've grown quite a bit since last year...
He also mentioned that you told him your facial features have softened, and your hair is now long enough to tie into a small ponytail. Reading about it in words doesn't give me a clear picture, though.
I'm really curious.
Continuing from our last conversation.
I've been adventuring through labyrinths repeatedly, and perhaps because I've been doing it solo, I've gained some reputation. Surprisingly, I received an invitation from the royal family of the Shirone Kingdom to become the private tutor for one of their princes.
To be honest, I'm quite tempted.
Before my last labyrinth expedition, following your advice, I had a detailed discussion with Rudeus about how to enhance the power of magic. As expected... he's a genius. Some of his ideas were things I hadn't even considered. You... both have been a great help.
According to his letter, Sylphie has officially advanced to the rank of advanced mage. Her hair has grown to shoulder length, and she's matured a lot. She's become quieter, but it seems she still likes to stick close to you.
Although Rudeus spoke of it with disdain, I think it would be quite amusing to see this in person... Haha... I must say, Allen, you're still as popular with girls as ever...
I heard from Rudeus that Sylphie once asked if she should grow her hair into a braid like mine, but you flatly refused, saying something about how white hair should only be shoulder-length...
Do you prefer hair that reaches the shoulders? And what's this about white hair? Sylphie's hair is green, you know...
Ah... I've gone off-topic. Anyway, please congratulate Sylphie for me. Sending letters from three people at the same location would triple the cost. Once I'm settled in my new job and have a stable income, I'll send her more letters.
Speaking of the Shirone Kingdom, it's a country with some peculiar customs. Some people even ride elephants and wear turbans... This time, I couldn't find a suitable gift for you, but... a few months ago, while wandering the capital, I found something beautiful.
—In the rivers of the royal capital, there are many beautiful pink flowers. Unlike the ones we usually see growing from the soil, these float on the water, supported by green, disk-like leaves. Their petals are long and narrow, and when fully bloomed, they're quite charming. They're considered the national flower of Shirone...
Well, actually, I didn't know what to send you this time. I really racked my brain...
Then, just now, I... suddenly noticed that this petal I've been using as a bookmark is quite lovely... So, I'll send it to you. I hope you'll like it...
Hmm... I always seem to have this problem when writing letters. There's so much I want to say, but when it comes to putting pen to paper, I don't know where to start, so the letters always end up being short.
...
When will we meet again?
If you're writing back, please send one letter to the Adventurer's Guild and another to the Shirone royal court, just in case I miss your letter.
—Roxy.
Oh, and one more thing! Stop calling me "Blue Mama"!! What kind of nickname is that? Do I really look that old?
And you always say it's a term of endearment...
Do you really think that excuse makes me happy?
Honestly, it's baffling...
In the northern part of the Asura Kingdom, separated from the Shirone Kingdom by the Red Dragon Mountains, lies the village of Buena in the Fittoa Region.
For the snow and wind, a year is but a fleeting moment.
Last year, Allen read letters here as snowflakes danced outside the window.
This year, it's the same.
Thanks to the well-heated fireplace in the knight's house, the room isn't too cold.
Allen set down the letter in his hand, his gaze lingering on the last three lines of hastily scribbled words. He couldn't help but smile, imagining Roxy's flustered expression.
'In the original story, it's said that demons aren't very bright, but Roxy seems plenty sharp to me.'
'That must be a misconception.'
He turned to look at the snow outside the window.
'Another year has passed. Time flies.'
The passage of time had left clear marks on his rapidly developing body. His once sharp and youthful features had softened considerably over the past year. Even sitting in a chair, it was obvious he had grown taller.
His hair had grown long enough to tie into a small ponytail at the back, while the front was trimmed into soft, wavy bangs that framed his face. His eyebrows had lost their sharpness, and his eyes, tempered by a year of laughter and joy in the Greyrat household, no longer carried their former intensity. Instead, they now curved gently, giving him a harmless, approachable appearance.
The frameless glasses perched on his nose added a scholarly air to his demeanor.
Allen picked up the so-called "national flower of Shirone" from beside the letter and examined it.
It was a lotus petal.
In this world, there was no equivalent term for it.
Perhaps because Roxy had pressed it in a book for so long, it had become a dried flower specimen. The petal's texture was perfectly preserved, with no cracks or breaks from the drying process.
Allen gently ran his finger along the edge of the petal before carefully placing it next to Roxy's "figurine."
He then folded the letter, returned it to its envelope, and opened a drawer.
Inside the drawer was a stack of letters. Beside them, in an open wooden box, lay a collection of gifts: a gleaming fang from a magical beast, an intricately carved magic stone ornament, an exotic-looking cord for wrapping sword hilts...
And a grotesquely carved wooden figurine of a man with wild, swept-back hair.
Even though Allen had seen the figurine hundreds of times since receiving it, he still couldn't help but laugh.
'What is this supposed to be... Couldn't she have asked Rudeus for help and used earth magic to make a clay figurine instead? Blue Mama is as clueless as ever. Her sharpness must have been an illusion...'
It was worth noting that after Roxy's first birthday gift, Allen had sent her powdered seeds of the Barthel flower in return. Since then, their correspondence had naturally evolved into an exchange of gifts.
Allen shook his head, pulled out a blank sheet of paper from the drawer, and began to write.
Dear Blue Mama,
By the time you read this letter, it will probably be a month from now, as usual.
I imagine you've already started your job as a private tutor in the Shirone Kingdom. After all, they're offering quite a lot, and knowing you, you'd follow your heart after some consideration.
That's just how you are.
By the way, I've heard from adventurers from the south that the princes of the Shirone Kingdom have all sorts of bad habits. But... maybe it's just the spoiled behavior of the rich and privileged? They might not be bad people at heart? Just don't compare their magical talent to Rudeus too much. It might crush their confidence.
Of course, this is just advice from the perspective of a tutor's professional ethics. As for the prince's character...
I have no idea.
If he does anything inappropriate, like harassment, don't hesitate to hit him with a fire spell. Don't hold back.
About Sylphie's hair...
When you see her again, you'll understand. Sylphie, as an elf, actually looks better with shoulder-length hair that shows off her ears. It gives her a more lively appearance. Just like how your braid makes you look more... (scratched out) elegant and charming.
So, everyone has a hairstyle that suits them best.
As for the white hair thing, it must have been the sunlight that day. It made her hair look like that, so I just blurted it out...
What do you mean by "as popular with girls as ever"? Were there a lot of girls around when we were together?
Or are you just talking about Sylphie? You must be imagining things... Sylphie's still so young...
About the flower you sent me, I've actually seen it in a book at the royal capital's museum. According to the book, although the flower floats on the water, it actually grows from the soil.
If you don't believe me, check the mud under the leaves next time. You should find its roots.
Oh, and those roots, though they look dirty, are actually white when washed. They have holes in the middle and can be eaten if sliced.
They might not have much flavor, so they probably won't suit your taste. I suggest soaking them in sugar water before eating. They should be quite refreshing.
Uh... I read all this in a book, but you can try it if you want. I'm sure you're not afraid of poisoning, given how you've had me send you powdered Barthel flower seeds before.
As for gifts... I'm just as clueless as you...
Allen paused here. Although he wrote about being clueless, his face showed no sign of distress.
He lifted the letter with his left hand and suddenly opened the window.
Outside, the snow was falling heavily. A gust of wind blew in, bringing a flurry of snowflakes with it.
Allen quickly closed the window, waving his arm to disperse the snowflakes. At the same time, he extended his right index finger and poked at the air.
He wasn't poking at nothing.
It was a small, crystalline, six-petaled white flower. Using his Flow technique, Allen altered its trajectory. In his slowed perception, the flower drifted down slowly...
Down...
And landed perfectly on the paper, right below the unfinished sentence.
The paper absorbed the moisture from the snowflake, then dried.
The flower disappeared.
But its "imprint" remained on the paper.
In this world of swords and magic, paper was coarse, which made the watermarks even more pronounced.
The imprint looked like a flower-shaped seal.
Allen smiled, laid the paper flat on the table, and continued writing.
You sent me a petal, so I'll send you a flower in return.
It's a snowflake from Buena Village.
Also, I really like the figurine of the evil god you carved.
Please don't carve any more.
As for when we'll meet again...
...
Maybe on a summer night downstairs? Or perhaps in a forest in spring?
But one thing's for sure: we'll meet when the time is right. No need to worry. Just wait.
This feeling, I call it...
"Anticipation."
—Allen.
Oh, and I'm not going to stop calling you Blue Mama. I told you, it's a "term of endearment." It has nothing to do with age.
Don't you think it's endearing?
Allen's lips curved into a smile. He waited a couple of seconds for the ink to dry, then folded the letter, placed it in an envelope, and tucked it into the drawer. As he did, his hand brushed against a crumpled piece of paper in the corner of the drawer.
It looked like it had been balled up and smoothed out repeatedly.
The smile on his face froze, and his expression turned complicated as he pulled out the paper.
He unfolded it.
The page was covered in dense, chaotic handwriting, as if a swarm of flies had danced across it.
If you looked closely, you'd see that it was the same three words, rearranged over and over.
"Future Sight."
The three lines he had written a year ago were now completely obscured.
Allen stared at the words in silence.
"Wah~ Wah~"
The sound of a child crying came from outside the room, accompanied by faint, panicked voices.
"Oh no, why does Norn cry so much? She's so clingy... I remember Rudeus was so easy to take care of... Was it because Rudeus was just too well-behaved?"
That was Zenith's voice. She was at a loss with Norn, who cried at the drop of a hat.
"Not at all, Mother. Look! Luai~~~"
"Wah... Hee... Heehee..."
"See? Norn's stopped crying!"
That was Rudeus's voice. Whenever Norn cried, he would make funny faces to calm her down, and it always worked.
"Rudeus was indeed very well-behaved as a child... He still is now."
That was Lilia's voice, tinged with a hint of resignation. She was well aware of Rudeus's precociousness as a child.
"Wah!!"
A loud cry—this time from Aisha.
The commotion pulled Allen out of his thoughts. He crumpled the paper again, tossed it deep into the drawer, and left the room to go downstairs.
Downstairs, Zenith, who had noticeably gained weight after her pregnancy, was holding Norn, preparing to feed her. She smiled at Allen as he descended.
Lilia and Rudeus, who had been trying to soothe Aisha, now ignored her and instead nodded at Allen before turning their attention to Zenith.
Amid the crying, Allen walked over to the crib.
Aisha, with her red hair, was crying in the crib, but the moment she saw Allen, she stopped. Her eyes sparkled as she stared at him.
Allen couldn't help but chuckle.
Aisha had been mischievous since she was a baby. At first, Allen hadn't noticed, but after several instances where Aisha would start crying right after Norn, he began to suspect something.
He realized Aisha was doing it on purpose.
She wasn't crying because she was upset or uncomfortable, but because...
She was instinctively trying to "fit in."
If Norn cried, she would cry too, and that would get the adults' attention.
In that sense, "mischievous" might not be the right word. It was more that Aisha was naturally clever, or perhaps... she had an innate talent for reading the room and adapting to the situation.
Allen locked eyes with Aisha and smiled, leaning on the crib and resting his chin on his hand. He reached out and gently tapped Aisha's forehead, whispering,
"What's wrong? Bored?"
Aisha grabbed Allen's finger with both hands, her tiny fingers trembling.
Allen shook his head, picked up a spoon from beside the crib, and used his Flow technique to make it dance in his palm.
Aisha's chubby little face immediately lit up with joy. Her glassy eyes darted between the spoon and Allen's face, and she giggled uncontrollably.
After playing with the spoon for a while, Allen put it away and patted Aisha's head.
"Good girl~ Aisha's so clever~ When you grow up, make sure to speak up if you need something, okay? Don't keep it all bottled up inside~ That's not a good habit~"
Aisha, only a few months old with a short crop of red hair, couldn't understand Allen's words. She just held onto his finger and let out a series of babyish giggles.
Lilia, who was changing Norn's diaper nearby, glanced over at the scene with a gentle expression.
Outside the window, the snow continued to fall, scattering the faint sounds of conversation from inside.
"...Uncle... It's been days since Laws took him out... Has he not returned yet..."
"No... I heard... the forest... monster activity..."
That night.
In an inn in the royal capital of Shirone.
Roxy gazed out the window at the moonlight, her eyes half-closed with fatigue.
On the table beside her lay several lotus petals that had been turned into bookmarks. Most of them had flaws, and not a single one was perfect.
Roxy rubbed her tired eyes and sighed, tucking the petals into her current book before closing it.
"Time to sleep..."
"These bookmarks didn't turn out well... I wanted to make a whole flower, but after months, only one petal came out perfect... I wonder if Allen will like it..."
"Am I really that clumsy...?"
She blew out the candle on the table, took off her robe, and lay down in bed.
Then, she reached under her pillow and pulled something out, holding it in her hand. Soon, her breathing evened out as she fell asleep.
Moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating her hand.
In it was a delicate wooden figurine. Though not as finely crafted as the clay figurines Rudeus could make with earth magic, its expression—a flustered look as if caught doing something wrong—was remarkably lifelike.
Roxy clutched the miniature version of herself and drifted off to sleep.
At this moment.
It was the deep winter of the year 413 in the Dragon Calendar.
Allen had just turned eleven. Rudeus was six months away from turning seven, and Sylphie was two months away from her seventh birthday.
...
Half a year remained until the start of the original story's tutoring period.
Half a year remained until the end of the original story's childhood arc.
Note: So far this story is published up to chapter 115 on my patreon, go check it out and remember that if we reach the goal of 80 power stones I will publish the next chapter.