《The Fate of a villain (But not really)》85.1 - Limβurs

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Simply put, the city was alive. As they rode into the city, they passed through a barrier. Up close, it shimmered and the hexagonal pieces moved as if it breathed. Towering spires loomed over them.

“Holy shit.” Even Hye-Sung was taken aback.

She helped Frances down. In the blue sky, a thin bridge formed as a man walked across, from his spire to another. The cobblestone shifted back and forth, floating on a river of oil. One of them even adjusted itself to save Frances from slipping. She gripped the black suitcase handle.

“This is what you can do with magic?”

“Not a single mage. This is a community’s work.”

“Can you do this?”

“Shooting magic as spells and creating magic items are about as different as prescribing painkillers and surgery.”

“Isn’t it just magic?”

“That’s what all non-mages say. By the way, remind me to try to make more medicine too.”

“Aren’t you a surgeon?”

“Still trained in medicine. Your period’s coming soon.”

“Why in the actual fuck are you keeping track of my cycle? In what world does that help you?”

The mage refused to answer. She simply walked around in the magical city. The metal street lamps that dotted the roads radiated heat. Unlike the world outside the greenhouse, snow was a foreign concept.

“C’mon. Stop worrying about how much I’ve breached your privacy. Lets just enjoy this place instead.”

“God damn it.”

“Let's go!”

Hye-Sung held her hand and nearly danced through the city. Witches and wizards milled around. Even in this bubble, fashion trends fought wars. And for Limβurs, it seemed to be concerning hats and robes. Pointed hats, and a matching star pattern robe that gave off an innocent, easy going vibe. The other side was far more mature. A large brim hat sat atop their heads. Their black, galaxy-like print stayed buttoned near their breast and collar.

“So what’s your real objective here?” Hye-Sung pointed at a shop selling customised staves as she posed her question.

“To find out how they make those stones. The translation ones.”

“Got it.”

Despite their status, no one cared about them. The witches continued about their business. They stopped in front of a water fountain and took a seat on a marble bench. It was cool to the touch.

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“You wanna see a magic trick?” Hye-Sung asked.

“Isn’t everything you do one?”

“I’m being serious. Focus your eyes on the fountain there.”

Frances sighed. She turned her attention to the water pouring out its marble holes. As she looked closer, she came to a conclusion. It wasn’t water.

“What is that?”

“That’s illusion magic. Probably to save water.”

“Smart. Now, should we head to the inn?”

“Did you make a reservation?”

“What, you think we’re back at home? They have no email, or even a number. Let's just walk in and try.”

The sun hung low in the sky. The orangey haze covered the clouds. Hye-Sung held Frances hand tight, and they walked towards the buildings. It was rather obvious which one was the inn. A sign hung above each front door. Getting rid of language altogether, they used pictograms and glowing runes. It was vaguely reminiscent of the neon signs in big cities. A mug of beer, a bed, and even what seemed like a brothel or a strip club. Either way, it was a pair of lips, and a big red heart. The others weren’t quite so obvious. Still, they pushed the door with the bed open.

“Ah! Welcome!”

“Room for two?” Frances asked.

“Oh, I’m sorry. No more rooms. A big group came by yesterday.”

“Nothing? Not even one?”

“Really. I’m sorry, but we’re out of rooms. If you want, you can have a meal here though.”

“Any other inns nearby?”

At the keeper’s directions, they tried to find an empty room. But the first was full. And so was the next. And the next. At their fifth attempt, just as they started to walk out, a timid voice called out to them.

A member of the pointed hat faction. He twirled the strands of black hair in front of his face. The timid mage reached out with callused, burned hands.

“Could I have a moment of your time, please?” He stammered over his words.

“Does it have anything to do with us having a room for the night?” Frances scanned the man from head to toe.

He was a spindly man. A greyish green robe stayed buttoned at his collar, and went down all the way to the middle of his calves. Underneath his coat, it was far less modest than one would expect. A pair of dark blue jeans that go down to his ankles, and a black cropped shirt that showed off his midriff and a stylish navel piercing.

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“Yes, actually! See, I’ve analysed your mana, and you two are a strange pair indeed.”

“Right, two women. Move along now.”

“No, not that. We have dragons flying around, who cares about who loves who. But instead, the lady on the left has a rigid mana stream, but it's very well restrained.” He was obviously talking about Hye-Sung. “But! And this is far more interesting! You have no mana at all.”

“Ah, of course. A noble and a peasant.”

“What? No, please just hear me out. I have a free guest room at my atelier. You can stay as long as you’d like.”

“Anything suspicious about this guy?”

“Just a weirdo.”

“Let me know if he does anything weird.”

“State your proposal,” Frances stared at his face.

The man’s eyebrow twitched. He bowed his head. Beads of sweat bubbled through his forehead, and he wiped it with a small white handkerchief.

“What I’d like is for you two to stay with me for the time being. You are a most fascinating specimen. Are you perhaps restricting, or hiding your mana?”

“What does that mean?”

“I’ll give you the lecture later.”

“Can your atelier accommodate 2 people?”

“Of course. Do you have any issues staying with my apprentices?”

“We’ll see. Lead the way.”

It was quaint, to say the least of it. Green tiles covered the roof. Located on the outskirts of Limβurs, the atelier was far quieter than the city itself. A few children stood outside, practising and playing with each other. They sprayed water, and blew gusts of wind. But as the three of them approached, the children stood at attention. Influenced by their mentor, they wore the same pointed hat, save for the size differences.

“Are those your apprentices?”

“Yup.” He waved at them from afar. “Hey! Stop fooling around and get back to studying!”

The children ran back inside. They seemed to be of an even spread. Either two boys and one girl, or two tomboys and a tomgirl.

“Speaking of which, how did you even find us?”

“I passed you two by, and analysed your mana just for fun. Then I followed you two and realised that you needed a place to stay.”

A set of stairs presented itself. Tucked into a neat compartment, flush with the wall, it saved a great amount of space. The front door stayed at least half a metre above the ground. A set of 6 wooden pillars supported the entire atelier. And above, a large telescope loomed out from the balcony.

The children peeked out from behind the door. They pushed and pulled, as children often did. But one of them used too much force, and the middle child, a boy, fell out of the door and onto the ground.

“Ow ow ow...”

“Now kids. Play nice. These are our guests, and they’ll be staying with us for as long as they need to.”

The children bowed their heads, their hats dropping off as they tilted their necks. The girl possessed locks of brown hair, curled and spiraly. The boys meanwhile had the standard short black hair, though one of them seemed to be in process of growing it out. Barely 11, at best.

“Introduce yourselves, kids.”

The first boy, a standoff-ish type, tilted his head. He turned his head away, and took a step back after doing the bare minimum. The glare in his eye spoke of an antisocial person, to keep to himself and isolated save for a few friends.

“Roy.” Short and to the point. No further elaboration.

The second boy, however, was the complete opposite. Radiating warmth and curiosity, his face was gentle and welcoming. Perhaps he was one of the friends that could pierce Roy's walls.

“Hiya! I’m Markus Troyson. Are you two mages?” Bright.

And last but not least, the girl. She bit her lip, nodded, and walked away. Retreating back into the safety of the atelier.

“Come on, don’t be like that.” Markus chased after her.

“Don’t mind Ange too much. She’s always like that around strangers,” the teacher defended.

“You fool.” Roy shook his head and walked in.

“Right, by the way. Your name is?”

“Ah! I’ve been foolish indeed. I am Yohnas. Professor Yohnas, if you will.”

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