Chapter 236: The Magic to Make a Field of Flowers
She lingered at the flower shop, looking at this one, and sniffing that one, a pure and a simple joy on her face. And he, he just smiled. In that moment, she was just an ordinary human girl who loved flowers. And her own, unadulterated love of them, it brought back a distant memory, a memory of another world, of another story. In that story, a certain red-haired girl had loved a certain spell, a spell that could create a field of flowers, a spell her own parents had taught her. So it had started so early, had it?
He watched as she gently stroked a delicate red velvet rose. "You seem to really like flowers," he said.
"Yes, I do," she said, her face still bright with a childlike wonder. "They're so beautiful, each one with its own unique shape and fragrance."
She paused, and a new and a different kind of a seriousness came over her. "Actually, teacher, I have a dream. My parents once taught me a spell that can create a field of flowers. And I want to improve upon it, to create a new spell, a spell that can make any flower bloom, at any time, in any place. Not just any flower, but the ones I want to see, even the rarest of them. A sea of flowers that is all my own." As she spoke of her dream, she seemed to glow, a light that was born of a deep and a true love.
He listened in silence. He could feel it, the sincerity behind her words. It was more than just a mage's pursuit of power.
"A spell to make your own flowers bloom?" he said with a smile. "An interesting idea. And a difficult one. It would require a great deal of a 'imaginative' power. With your own talent and understanding of magic, you might just be able to do it. And if not... I could always—"
He was about to say that he could help her, could even create the basic structure of the spell himself. It would not have been a difficult thing for him. But she, she shook her head, a new and a firm resolve in her own eyes.
"No, teacher," she said, and her own voice was now a gentle, yet stubborn, thing. "Thank you for your kind offer. But I want to create this spell myself. I want to, with my own two hands, with my own heart, discover the secrets of a flower's bloom. The process itself... that is the greatest joy of magic, is it not? I do not want to miss a single step."
He was taken aback, and then, a new and a different kind of a pride, a pride in his own student, now welled up in him. He nodded. "You are right. And I will look forward to the day when I can see your own, unique, 'flower-blooming' magic."
At his words, she smiled even wider. "And besides," she said, "I'm already working on another spell."
"Oh? What is it?"
"A spell to disguise, and even change, my own magical aura," she said, her own voice a low and a conspiratorial whisper. "Just think, teacher, if I could change my own aura at will... it would be so useful in a battle with a demon, wouldn't it? They wouldn't be able to sense my own, true strength. And it could also be used to evade tracking spells."
He now understood. To disguise one's own magical aura. It was a spell he himself had thought of a thousand times before. But he had always held back. He had wanted her to create it herself. And now, she had.
"That is a fine idea," he said, and his own voice was now filled with a genuine and an unfeigned admiration. "And a difficult one. But if you succeed... it will be a powerful weapon indeed. The demons are a cunning race. When they encounter an opponent they cannot defeat, they will flee. And so... you must be even more cunning than they are. And this... this is a fine idea."
Her own face was now a deep and a brilliant shade of a red, and she felt as if she were floating. "Really? I'll do my best," she said, and then, in a quiet and a secret part of her own heart, she added, and with this spell, I can get closer to you without you even noticing.
They lingered at the flower shop for a little while longer, and she, in the end, bought a small and a beautiful bouquet of a honey-word flowers and a white chrysanthemums, and held it to her own chest. The sunlight fell on her own, now happy and a contented, face, a picture of a pure and an unadulterated bliss. And he, he watched her, and a new and a different kind of a peace now settled over his own, restless heart.
Perhaps this is good, he thought. To just... be, to be a normal person, and to watch his own apprentice shine with the light of her own, simple dream.
But what he did not know was that beneath that beautiful and a peaceful surface, a new and a fervent love, a love that was as bright and as beautiful as the flowers in her own hands, was now blooming, and growing stronger with every passing day.
She felt it, the distance between them, a distance that was now, slowly, but surely, beginning to close.
And in that moment, in the bustling and a crowded street, it was as if they were in a world of their own, a world where there was no Serie, no Ela, no Frieren, just the two of them. And she wished that that moment could last forever.
In Serie's room, she slowly opened her own eyes, a slight headache now a dull and a throbbing thing in her own head.
She sat up and looked around. The room was a quiet and a silent thing. "Rhodes?" she called out, a force of a habit. And there was no answer. Oh, that's right, she thought. This is not my own hut. He is in the room next door. I should go and find him.
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