Chapter 4 - Omen
After encountering the red eyes, dreams did not come to Lawrence for a while.
When a week had passed without a single dream, it actually made him more anxious.
What if I can never dream again?
He realized now how ungrateful he'd been.
The world of dreams was the only drawbridge connecting Lawrence to magic.
After all, it was because of the dreams that he was able to learn magic in the first place.
If not for his dreams, he would never have come into contact with magic at all.
Fortunately, as if understanding the boy's feelings, the dreams returned.
The fairy friends welcomed Lawrence back.
He was so happy—relief washed over him, and tears welled in his eyes.
From now on, I need to be more cautious.
All of this happened simply because he knew so little.
Lawrence hadn't understood anything about the world inside his dreams.
This most recent incident was just an extension of that ignorance.
Because he didn't know, he had faced unknown dangers.
He'd always vaguely believed that anything was possible in his dreams.
After all, these were dreams he himself was dreaming.
He'd never imagined that such fear could be lurking there.
Deep inside, a tiny seed had taken root.
The fear that began sprouting after the encounter with the Red Eyes soon transformed into caution.
Now, whenever he dreamed, Lawrence didn't just play around aimlessly.
He carefully examined the scenes unfolding before him and made an effort to memorize the faces of each fairy friend.
Yet no matter how hard he tried, satisfying communication remained out of reach.
He still couldn't understand everything the fairies—who were always flitting about him—were saying.
The ominous Red Eyes were the same.
Just recalling those eyes, slithering like a snake, sent a chill through his blood.
Thankfully, there was some good news as well.
A cautious hypothesis he'd formed:
Whenever he was with his fairy friends, handling magic became much easier.
"Do you need our help? Are we playing together again today?"
"Sure! Just ask—it's fun for us too!"
He'd forgotten.
Every feeling the fairy friends ever expressed was always goodwill.
Thanks to that, in just the past few days, his Shadow magic had improved dramatically.
Now, even outside of dreams, he could maintain its form.
If anyone asked if he could keep it up for long, well—that was still a bit uncertain.
Still, Lawrence was satisfied
Compared to the beginning, just being able to summon a form was a huge achievement.
Having a form meant he could also touch it.
When he managed to push an object with Shadow, he even burst out laughing.
Meanwhile, Saint Charmant Monastery had gotten a bit busier.
It was because word had come that trainee priests would be visiting the monastery around the time summer approached.
"Trainee priests?"
"Didn't Sister tell you? You know the first floor where we stay? It's actually lodging for trainee priests, not for hired workers like us."
"Now that you mention it, I think I did hear something about that."
"You definitely forgot. If anyone told you, it had to be Aveline—not any of the other sisters."
Trying to hide his embarrassment, Lawrence quickly changed the subject.
This wasn't something he could ask Joan or Edith about.
"So, what kind of people are these trainee priests?"
"You really don't know?"
Marjorie's eyes went wide, as if she couldn't believe it.
"They're clergy who travel all over the continent. If you want to join the Order, you absolutely have to go through a period as a trainee priest. You know the clergy who pray in the chapel every day? After Mass, why do you think they spend all their time studying on the second floor? It's all to prepare for when they eventually become trainee priests themselves."
This time, it was Lawrence's turn to be surprised.
He'd always assumed that if you diligently completed your training at the monastery, you would eventually become a deacon or a head priest.
"So, are all the clergy on the second floor destined to become trainee priests?"
"That's half right and half wrong."
Marjorie, holding her bowl of potato soup, chewed her lip thoughtfully.
"To be exact, some become trainee priests and then set out on a pilgrimage, while others stay at the monastery or temple to continue their training. Usually, trainee priests who go on pilgrimage are held in higher regard. Those are the ones they call Pilgrims."
"I get the first part—but for the second, isn't that the same as the clergy in our monastery?"
"Sometimes, Lawrence, you really can be clueless."
"Come on, just tell me."
"It's completely different. Those priests are actually from our monastery. No matter how much they study or train here, they can't become trainee priests. If you want to become a trainee priest, it's normal to go to another monastery to prove your faith and get a letter of recommendation."
The girl frowned slightly as she continued.
"Think about it simply. 'I've done my training diligently at this monastery, and I can vouch for it.' It's something like that. Usually, the Butler or the head priest of the monastery does it for you. But honestly, I don't know all the details—just know that's how it works."
It seemed that even the clergy had quite a few complications to deal with.
"Take this chance to understand how it works. It'll save you trouble later."
"Trouble?"
"Yeah. Like it or not, you're living in a monastery. Sooner or later, you'll probably join the Order. Isn't it better to learn about this ahead of time?"
"Did you come to the monastery because you wanted to become clergy?"
Instead of answering, Lawrence asked his own question.
"No way. I can't stand such a stifling life."
"Then why did you come to the monastery?"
"They say women who have lived in a monastery are really popular as brides-to-be."
Marjorie shrugged her shoulders proudly.
***
One month later.
Five trainee priests visited Saint Charmant Monastery.
One of them was a pilgrim setting out on a journey.
A robe soiled with dust and dark stains. Beneath the robe, fluttering in the wind, you could glimpse leather armor. A sword hung at the waist. Slung across the back was a crossbow. I'd often seen bows in the village, but almost never a crossbow.
"May the Goddess's blessing be with you, wanderer searching for the path."
"May the Goddess's blessing be with you."
After exchanging greetings, the trainee priests made their way to the first-floor corridor.
The staff grew busier.
The usual cleaning rounds were skipped, and everyone focused on the trainee priests.
Thankfully, they didn't require much attendant care.
For example, there was no need to prepare bathwater for them.
They even came down to the underground dining hall themselves for meals.
The same went for cleaning.
It was enough to tidy up their rooms once before they arrived.
The monastery was only really busy for about a week after the trainee priests showed up.
Once life at the monastery returned to normal, Lawrence devoted himself to shadow magic again.
He'd been so busy with cleaning that he hadn't been able to practice magic for quite some time.
All he'd managed was a brief session or two before bed. It would be a lie to say that didn't bother him.
Magic won't run away from you, but your magic skills just might.
After all, even a sword will rust if it's left in its sheath too long. Lately, as his dreams had tapered off, Lawrence had started to get antsy.
He didn't know why.
Was there some condition to having those dreams?
Lawrence didn't know much, but he wasn't a fool.
He realized that the way his dreams continued was anything but normal.
That's also why he was careful to keep his newly budding shadow magic hidden.
Be cautious in all things. Who knows what could happen if someone discovered he could use magic?
Especially if that magic couldn't even protect himself.
Fortunately, there hadn't been any problems with his shadow magic skills. In fact, even though he'd taken a few days off, he actually felt more skilled.
It was different from cleaning, which was just the same repetitive tasks every time.
It was fun to move the shadow exactly as he wished. Now he could easily send it from the door around to the window and back without much trouble.
By the second week since the trainee priests had arrived at the monastery, Shadow had become capable of carrying and running with even small objects.
That night, the boy was able to enjoy his dream in a good mood.
Lawrence first looked around his surroundings.
The blue meadow and the lake.
He'd grown so used to seeing the fairies coming and going that now, it felt downright familiar.
Ever since the incident with the red eyes, checking for safety in his dreams had become a habit.
Fortunately, since that day, he hadn't fallen into any unknown places.
No forest where darkness seemed to slither.
No endless bramble thicket.
No red eyes shrouded in cloth.
So far, none of these had reappeared before Lawrence.
But it wasn't something he could just let slide.
If he let his guard down, he wouldn't be able to react when something happened.
***
"He'll be here soon!"
"Get ready. Get ready to greet him!"
However, the fairy friends seemed unusually busy.
"Prepare ■■■■ ■■ as well. Let's offer our greetings."
The commotion continued until the fairies had all gathered.
Once they were assembled on the meadow, something began to sprout.
Buds. Grass. Trees.
A tree began to grow rapidly, bursting upward in waves until it stood lush and towering. It was so vast, it seemed to blot out the sky.
Amazingly, that wasn't the end.
From the tree, stems and trunks intertwined to form a single figure.
Arms and legs made entirely of tree branches. Even hair, composed of tree vine, sprouted blue-green leaves at the ends. Whether or not this could be called a person was unclear, but there was no denying it was almost beautiful.
As soon as Lawrence faced this being, a sudden headache hit him.
A throbbing pain, as if his head might split open. It was similar to the pain he'd felt when looking into the Red Eyes.
"Welcome, Your Majesty the Queen."
"We present ourselves before the Queen."
The Queen? Could she be the queen of the fairies? Now that he looked, a crown of flowers, almost like a tiara, rested atop her head where blue leaves had sprouted.
"■■ ■ are ■■■ ■ ■■■ inside ■■■■. Did ■■ come ■■ for ■■■?"
The pain intensified.
Just like with the Red Eyes, he couldn't understand a word she said.
"Yes! Everyone's having fun. ■■■■ ■■ is here too!"
"Will you stay and play with us, Your Majesty? It'll be even more fun if you do!"
"■■ ■■, but, ■■ is ■■■■ ■■■."
In response to the fairies' chatter, the Queen turned her gaze to Lawrence.
The headache grew so severe his head drooped.
Now he understood.
This pain, this throbbing, was a warning sign that appeared whenever he encountered such beings.
The Red Eyes hadn't tried to threaten the boy.
The Fairy Queen was the same.
Just by facing them.
Just by hearing their voices, his mind screamed in agony.
"■■■■ ■■. Are you hurt somewhere?"
"What's wrong? Is something the matter?"
It was the Queen who offered a helping hand.
"■■■."
A single spark flared to life. The flash burned a vivid trail through the darkening world of the clock.
When he came to his senses, the headache that had gripped his mind was gone.
The dream, too, vanished without a trace.
All that remained was Lawrence, drenched in sweat.
The boy climbed out of bed and brought his hands together in front of him.
He had to recall it before it faded away.
The flame the Fairy Queen had conjured.
He hadn't heard what she said, but he understood what those lips were invoking.
What rose in his mind was a handful of light blooming in the darkness.
During those nights wandering the back alleys.
The beginning of hope he had waited for, fleeing from the cold and the dark.
The morning light gave him the courage to keep going once again.
"Fire."
Like hope itself rising, flames flickered to life at his fingertips.
Compared to the flames the Fairy Queen had conjured, his own were weak and faint.
Still, he felt no disappointment. Instead, his heart brimmed with pure joy.
He had done it. It wasn't just a fluke. He could use magic other than Shadow.
That fact filled him with boundless happiness.
The fire he created was different from the Fairy Queen's. It was smaller, and didn't seem nearly as hot. Most of all, his flame glimmered with a dark red hue.
Fire was unlike Shadow. Shadow would bend to Lawrence's will, but Fire acted like a dog straining at its leash, eager to go wherever it pleased.
If he lost control, the whole room could go up in flames. His razor-sharp focus kept a tight grip on Fire's leash.
That day, Lawrence became so absorbed in practicing Fire that he completely lost track of the sunrise.
The biggest change after learning Fire was that he could finally wash himself with warm water
The method for heating water was simple.
All he had to do was heat up a stone from the stand with Fire, and that was it. Once he put the hot stone into the wooden tub of water he'd filled, the water would quickly become warm.
Thanks to this, he could wash himself with warm water as much as he liked.
At first, he doubted whether the water would really get hot. After all, when he touched Fire directly, it felt more warm than hot. But his doubts vanished the moment he transferred Fire to the stone on the ground.
Smoke and flames rose up. In short, Fire wouldn't bite its master.
There was one more bit of good news. He had thought it might be the case: whenever he encountered that mysterious being in his dreams, his magical abilities seemed to grow stronger.
That was true with the Red Eyes.
The same thing happened with the Fairy Queen.
At first, he'd been so afraid that he couldn't judge anything objectively.
Now, though, he was beginning to think that maybe it wasn't such a bad thing after all.
The most important thing when using magic going forward was pain.
Especially the headaches that signaled his limits—they could strip him of the ability to think straight.
It was far from an enjoyable experience. When he'd faced the Red Eyes, he'd honestly thought he was going to die. The headache had been just as terrible when he met the Fairy Queen.
But in exchange, he'd gained better control over Shadow.
As Lawrence moved his hand, Shadow followed. His hands and feet flowed smoothly, mimicking a person's movements.
The motions were much more distinct now.
It was real progress, if you could call it that.
Still, compared to Fire, it felt a bit lacking. Even right now, Fire was proving useful in his everyday life.
He could light up a dark room, just to name one thing. He could also use it to heat water.
On the other hand, Shadow was weak and small. He tried to reassure himself that even though it was feeble now, someday it might grow—but lately, even that belief had been shaken.
Don't compare them. Fire has its own advantages. Shadow has its own strengths, too.
The problem isn't the magic itself, but Lawrence's ability to handle it.
Shadow and Fire. Controlling both magics at the same time was impossible.
It wasn't as if he hadn't tried. But after several failed attempts, he gave up. To put it another way, it was like trying to look left and right at the same time.
To be blunt, it just wasn't possible.
Don't get greedy. Overreaching leads to trouble. If he could just manage what he had, that would be enough.
Honestly, he felt frustrated because there was no one to ask. With no one to give him clear answers to his questions, he had to proceed slowly, testing each step like crossing a river on uncertain stones.
Still, it wasn't such a bad feeling.
Encountering the unknown was enjoyable. Right now, simply discovering more about magic was a pure joy.
As summer approached in full, Blackwell called for Lawrence.
"A novice priest?"
"Yes. I wanted to hear what you think about it."
It was an unexpected proposal.
After pausing to gather his thoughts, Lawrence spoke carefully.
"Um… Could you give me some time to think about it?"
"Of course Let's see. A week should be enough, right? Take your time to think it over before you answer."
"Thank you for your consideration, Butler."
Leaving Blackwell's office, Lawrence was deep in thought.
A priest of the Holy Cross Order. In some ways, the phrase sounded just as sweet as the title of magician. Especially for Lawrence, who grew up an orphan, it carried a special significance.
He had spent his whole life with no one to rely on. Even when he was working at the inn, it was the same. Now, at the monastery, all it would take is a word from someone above and he'd be thrown out onto the street.
That was Lawrence's reality. It wasn't something you could just change by wanting to. He had already known since he was a child that there was a gap between birth and status.
Lawrence wasn't the only one who used to stare up at Hilton Castle from the back alleys with longing.
Blackwell's offer was an opportunity that didn't come easily.
If he had still been that boy from the past, he probably would have nodded eagerly the moment he heard the offer. As a priest of the Order, he could introduce himself with pride wherever he went.
Love and mercy. Just words, meaningless when repeated out loud, but the priests of the Order entrusted their beliefs to them.
The hardships endured by the clergy hardly need mentioning—they are notorious.
A life of restraint and simplicity.
Service without expecting anything in return.
In reality, the ascetic lifestyle was so demanding that some clergy simply couldn't bear it and left the monastery behind.
But that was precisely why the ideals of the Order held such power.
So why couldn't he give an immediate answer?
The week Blackwell had given passed in a flash.
In the end, unable to make a decision, Lawrence went to his room.
"You still haven't decided?"
"I'm sorry."
The boy bowed his head.
Upon seeing Lawrence's apology, weighted with both concern and regret, Blackwell spoke.
"It's not an easy decision to make. In fact, I'm rather glad to see you struggling with it."
"…Aren't you disappointed in me?"
"Disappointed? Why should I be? Just because you can't answer now doesn't mean you'll always be unable to."
Blackwell stood up and handed him a book from the back of the room.
"I'll give you three days. Etch it deeply into your heart."
"Three days?"
Lawrence repeated in surprise.
The book he had been handed was far too thick to be read in just three days.
He knew what book it was.
It was an item the clergy of the Order valued more than their own lives.
It was none other than the Holy Scripture of the Holy Cross Order, inscribed with its doctrine and teachings.
"I'm not asking you to memorize the whole thing."
"I understand. I'll do my best."
Hearing Blackwell's firm tone, Lawrence understood.
Refusing was not an option. Blackwell had met him halfway—now it was his turn to make a concession.
With the scripture in hand, the boy left Blackwell's room.
The problem, once he returned to his own room, was that the scripture was every bit as daunting as it looked.
After just the first two pages, his head started to ache.
Difficult words filled every line.
Even though Marjorie had taught him to read, each page was riddled with dozens of words he simply couldn't understand.
Still, he forced himself to keep reading, but on the first day, he couldn't make it past twenty pages. That effort was only because he didn't want to see Blackwell's disappointed face.
Since the scripture was so difficult to read, his thoughts kept drifting elsewhere.
He kept thinking about Shadow and Fire. From then on, Lawrence started to study magic alongside the scriptures.
When studying the scripture became too hard, he practiced magic. When his heart ached, he went back to studying the scripture.
In the blink of an eye, the promised three days had passed.
"How was it?"
"I'm still not entirely sure."
In response to Blackwell's question, Lawrence answered honestly.
The doctrines written in the scripture.
The words of saints throughout history, and the great miracles. It was simply too soon for him to truly understand it all.
He couldn't possibly become a priest with these feelings. More than anything, to walk the path of faith required sincerity.
"So, you don't know? That's all right. I suppose that too can be an answer. I've spent half my life reading and studying the scriptures, and I still don't understand what is right and what is wrong."
Blackwell spoke as if he could see right into Lawrence's heart.
"I'm sure our priest thinks the same way. How could we, mere servants, ever fully understand the will of the Goddess? That's why all we can do is keep searching and striving without end."
"What if we still don't understand, no matter how much we try?"
"That's all right, too. Even just the footsteps you take towards enlightenment are a great accomplishment in themselves. Just like you are now."
It felt as if that answer perfectly fit his current self.
That was how it was with the magic Lawrence had learned through his dreams.
An unknown discipline, with more questions than answers. There was no teacher to guide him, and like a buoy drifting in the vast ocean, he could only sway and move forward on his own.
But even the path he had already traveled held meaning.
Shadow, which he drew out of the darkness and gave form. The deep red Fire had already blended into his daily life.
He just needed to keep going as he was. It felt as if Steward Blackwell himself was the one telling him this.
"It seems you already have a dream set in your heart."
"Well… I'm sorry."
Through that brief exchange, he realized his own feelings.
Lawrence wanted to become a mage.