Chapter 42: The Reminder of Rain

The patter of the rain seems endless, it woke her up. She looked outside and saw the flurry of rain that covered the whole valley. The valley produces a fog that made the blue autumn-like leaves strange. It is still spring season as she remembers. She stood up not bothering to wear her equipment. She steps outside only to see the tents of the party lined up under the trees. Did they not notify her? She was asleep and around the distance she saw a pit of fire. The pitfire seems to have been extinguished by the rain. Were they partying without her?

The moon was still up. But she could feel that the sun will rise sooner or later. The mana in the air tells her that. The raindrops colliding with the stream of water made the area cool and soothing. She sees the wild dances of the water in the stream. She liked the rain, it reminded of her the good old times when everything was not about training or fighting. The water calms her down enough to make her remember the good old days. The days where she could smile freely without being looked down upon as naïve girl.

Where did it all go wrong? She could not remember where or when that happened. Not like that it matters anymore. There are things that she could not change. The rain wetted her, each step she does dirty her boots. She could cast a protective shield around her but it did no matter at all. Wine, she craves for it and thus she tried to drink some. Taking her bota bag, she tried to sip some wine. It was empty. She felt disappointed and kept the bag in her belt.

The rain didn’t stop her from walking along the banks of the stream. The pitter-patter really calmed her down. The voices in the head or the ripples in her soul were being washed away. Facing the cool rain made her calm down. She saw a protruding boulder and went to it. Ambling silently, she climbed up the boulder and let her feet hang in the air. Her eyes followed the stream, reflecting the ripples like a mirror.

Stress has built up on her head. Confusion, regrets, and trying to deny it all made her even more of a wine drinker. Frustration, anger, and jealousy and all of it made her more angst. She did not wish for all of this. But since it’s either getting wed to an older man or becoming a fighter. She would rather choose to become a fighter all day. She hated being suppressed and dictated. And yet here she is, in some unknown part of the overworld, lost, confuse and in denial.

Pride, she held it tightly. And her pride doesn’t let her admit her mistakes. But honestly she just feels jealousy and her hate for bossy tyrants made her make the wrong choice. She wasn’t perfect, and she wasn’t a genius, and she achieved what she had due to her hard work. She remembered the days she sweated and coughed blood. She remembered the days where her eyes would hurt when reading a book with a lamp in the middle of the night.

Her bloodline was a proud one. So prideful that she wondered why such a creature like her was allowed to become a part of such family. Her brothers, her sisters, and her relatives were the greatest. She admired them truly with honesty but they all look down upon her. Being looked down made her want to prove herself. Yet, with all that is happening she feels like she has done things wrong again.

She bragged about succeeding all the time yet failed every time. Her own family calls her the most talentless in the new generation. They even hated her mother for such a minor noble whore that her father once had sex with. Her father only legitimizes her out of pride in his own blood. And if her father truly loved her or at least pretended to care about her. Then her father wouldn’t have brought such a cocky braggart that does nothing but subtly insult her.

Maybe she just needed to endure that humiliation and maybe things would have gone better. But her pride didn’t allow her to do so. She could never lower head, not to someone who would insult her mother right at her face. She may be born with a minor noble as a mother but her pride was as tall as her father.

She hid under the façade of an arrogant. Yet truly, her heart was simply that of a little girl who chose to be strong rather than become a trophy wife for some man who is thirty years older than her. She will never regret that decision ever.

Her eyes looked at the river once again. There she saw her baggy eyes and wet hair. She noticed how tired her face is despite the ripples making the image she was seeing rather blurry. She took a breath and felt that she was starting to feel cold. Her soul rippled, she felt mana embraces her and before long the coldness disappeared. She could not be bothered to move now. Everyone was asleep so she can herself. No need to hide what she truly was. No need to act like an arrogant noble brat that has nothing but failures on her lap.

There was nothing she can be proud of. Her name, her title, her power, and her skills were all mediocre. It was her fault, all her fault, she knows that but will never admit it. Right now, she only wanted to dwell in the rain that she loved. The rain is one of her allies. And in this world, she has no ally other than the one she saved once.

Failure, incompetent and the most insulted noble heir. She could hear people laugh at her and she will never cry. She will never admit that she was wrong. Because doing so would break her. To be strong, that was meaning of her name, and she will commit to it.

The rain continued. She walks through the valley enjoying the cool rain when she suddenly a figure looking at the horizon. She recognized the figure as the foolish magus who always looks at her with still water eyes. Never shows fear, and is always foolish. She thought that the insulting the man or making him see how ‘fearful’ she was would make him bow to her. But not even spitting on his face or showing off her power would make him bend the knee.

He was wet and his eyes were clearly looking forward to the sun. She hid near a tree and concealed her presence. She didn’t want to be seen by anyone especially this Magus who probably hated her. Her actions in the village should make this man hate her to the bones. The man was rather a servant of justice. Unlike her, killing a few peasants for her own survival seems like a rational thing to do. She thought that how could a man cry so easily. In her life, she never saw any man cry for others. The teachers that taught her and the instructors who instructed her told her that crying is for the weak.

She could never understand the man. And she will never do as long as he doesn’t bend his knee. She hates it that the man was stubborn. He should be dead by now but the man proves to be a survivor even without his magic. Well, she heard tales about him when she passes by the ‘war band’ of hers. Most of the men and women in the band respect him more than her.

She is quite jealous of him but she will never admit. She bit her lip. She then takes a long sigh as she thought how the man should never have opposed her. That war leader was a piece of garbage and she wished she could have poke holes on that man.

She saw the foolish Magus as a broken man, a man that she will never come to understand. It’s not like having to understand such a tool will allow her to gain anything. Her mood was now spoiled, she was about to turn around and go back to her carriage when she saw the man smiling when the sun’s light came about. That beaming smile, unlike the usual blank one, made her quite surprise. So he can smile like that too. The man must really appreciate sceneries to the point his smile could reach his ears.

What an odd man.

She thought, walking away from the place and silently heading back to the carriage of hers. Inside, she saw the maid of hers sleeping tightly, she saw her blanket on the floor, she grabbed it, put it on her and then proceed to dry her body by circulating the mana around her. Converting mana and turning it into heat was easy.

After that, she then sat in the same place she slept. Looking at the window while wondering what she will do.