"Leave the house?"
My uncle rarely summoned me. When he did, it was never for anything good.
"Even though you're my brother's child, I can no longer allow you to remain under the Laguna roof," he said, trimming his neat beard as if the act could trim away the awkwardness.
"So I'm being banished. Grandfather's decision?"
"…That's right. Shin, you are expelled from the House of Laguna."
At last, the day had come.
My small dream—surprising Uncle and Grandfather by unleashing a spell—vanished with those words. Too slow. Or perhaps far too late.
"You're sixteen now. You can survive on your own," he added.
"My birthday is still six months away."
"Mm. Not much different."
It had been just over five years since I'd been judged talentless and moved into a shed. I'd always known this day would come. I just didn't know whether it would feel swift or sluggish. Turns out it felt like a door I'd been standing beside for years finally opening.
"And one more thing: you are not permitted to call yourself Laguna."
"I know."
Of course. The Laguna family worships Talent. Without it, I'm not one of them.
"Take that," my uncle said, pointing to the desk.
There were ten crisp notes laid out. Imperial paper money.
"One hundred thousand ersals. That should last you a month."
"Uncle… may I have one book as well? Just one."
"A book? Take whatever you like."
Good. That was the one thing I truly wanted.
"Thank you for everything," I said.
"…Mm."
He turned his back. That was our farewell.
I thought briefly of seeing my grandfather before I left, then let the thought drift away.
Even hearing I was expelled, I didn't feel much of anything. Maybe there never had been a place for me to begin with.
And more importantly, I had a new dream. I hadn't achieved my goal of shocking them with magic, but there was something I wanted to see.
I wanted to see a steam locomotive.
A new invention, recently put to practical use—coal stoked by fire magic, boiling water into steam to drive iron wheels. A miracle of noise and heat and speed. I had to see it.
"Then I'll leave by the end of the day," I told myself. "Yes. I will."
On my way back to the shed from the main house, someone stepped into my path.
"Shin, what were you talking about with Father?"
"It's obvious, isn't it? He probably told him to run some errands."
"That suits you, you worthless brat! Ahaha!"
My uncle's sons—my three cousins.
Julis, the eldest: tall, symmetrical features, almost painfully handsome. Fire magic poured from him like sunlight—people whispered that one day he might inherit Grandfather's Divine Fire, Agni. He hid a calculating cruelty behind a lazy smile. His eyes were sharp now, fixed on me.
Marl, the second: talented in all four basic elements—fire, water, earth, wind—a gifted generalist. Thin to the point of worry, with a pride so brittle it cut. In his mind, anyone not noble wasn't quite human.
Ingvar, the third: foul-mouthed, quick to violence, and brilliant. The servants flinched when he neared. Rumor said his magical aptitude outstripped both brothers.
"It's rare to see all three of you together," I said.
They were older than me and already working for the family; we didn't cross paths often.
"That's enough," Julis said softly. "Answer the question."
His mana rose, heat rippling, and the air around us went brittle.
"Grandfather ordered me to leave the house," I said. "I'm to be gone today."
"…I see."
"Hey, hey!" Marl laughed. "I was just thinking of making you my personal errand boy!"
"Boring," Ingvar sneered. "Why don't you die somewhere? You're worthless."
As always, then.
A ring of fireballs flared to life around me, their orbits tight and taunting.
"Cousin Julis," I said mildly, "what is it?"
"I think you know," he replied. "Don't call yourself Laguna. Ever."
That, at least, matched Uncle's words. Also: his control of fire was precise. The fireballs circled me like trained hawks. Impressive.
But… dangerous.
I reached out and closed my hand over one of the flames. Heat bit my skin. I whispered a simple cancelation circuit beneath my breath, pinching the flow of mana.
The fire imploded with a soft hiss.
"There'll be a fire on the grounds if you're careless," I said, letting the warmth fade from my palm.
"—!"
I turned my back to them. This, most likely, was the last time we would ever speak.
"If I see you outside, I'll bully you," Ingvar called after me. "So get as far away as you can."
It's fine. I have no intention of meeting you again.
◇ ◇ ◇
"This is fine."
I tucked the book and the one hundred thousand ersals into my small bag. That was everything. The emptiness of the bag was a little sad.
"Where should I go first?"
Use the money to get as far as I could, and then…
"Should I get a job?" I muttered.
Everything costs money. That much I knew.
"I've never been outside the estate," I admitted to the empty shed.
Books had told me plenty about the world, but I wanted to see it for myself.
I set my goals, simple and clear:
First, see a steam locomotive. Second, earn money. Third—eat lots of delicious food.
Settled.
It was still early evening. If I followed the road before night fell, I could reach a coach stop and catch a ride somewhere.
I crossed the broad grounds toward the gate. Two Laguna soldiers stood there like statues, eyes sliding past me. They must have heard; no one tried to stop me.
"Goodbye, everyone," I said to no one in particular.
They called it banishment, but truthfully, that had happened when I was ten. Today was something else.
Independence.
◇ ◇ ◇
I followed the road toward town.
Perhaps I'd misjudged the distance. Night had already soaked into the fields.
"Did I get lost?"
I'd thought town would be close. I was wrong.
The clop of hooves and the rattle of wheels came up behind me. A carriage.
It slowed, then stopped alongside me.
"Hey, boy," called the driver, an older man with a cheerful voice. "What are you doing out here?"
"I want to get to a town," I said, honest as a stray dog, "but I can't seem to reach one."
"Heh. There's nothing ahead," he chuckled.
Ah. So that's why.
"How about it? Want a ride?"
…Was this real? A kind person?
"Is that okay?"
"Must be fate we met here," he said. "No charge. Hop on."
I couldn't remember the last time someone had been kind to me. My throat tightened.
"Thank you!"
"What? It's nothing."
The old man smiled. Gratitude bubbled up and I nearly bowed in the doorway. I climbed in and thanked him again and again.
And then the kindness went further. He handed me a small wrapped bundle.
"Hungry? Eat this."
Inside was bread and dried meat.
I stared, stunned. I didn't think there was another person like this left in the world.
"Thank you very much!"
The bread was thin but fresh, the dried meat small but free of that sour smell that meant trouble. My first bite warmed my whole body.
"It's delicious! Uncle—where is this bread from?"
"Oh, nowhere special. Just regular bread."
"It's so good I could eat several!"
"Heh… I'm glad to hear that."
I finished every crumb. Maybe my luck had turned the moment I stepped outside the gate.
"…Mm."
Sleep crept in as it always does after a warm meal. I'd stayed up late the night before reading. I felt a little bad about dozing in a stranger's carriage, but—
"Boy? You look pale," the driver said.
"Ah, no. Just a little sleepy."
The steady sway of the coach made it worse. My eyelids drooped.
"Go on and sleep," he said kindly. "We'll be in town by the time you wake."
"I'll… take you up on that," I murmured.
I leaned back.
…
...
...... Zzz.
◇ ◇ ◇
…
…Cold.
"Mm?"
I sat up and rubbed my eyes. A chill crawled over my skin.
"What—why am I not wearing any clothes?"
I looked down. Naked. Not even underclothes. My face went hot with a different kind of cold.
"Huh? Where… is this?"
The air was damp and stale. Mold and earth stung my nose. Iron bars loomed in the half-dark.
A cell.
"Why… a jail?"
I didn't understand.