'Sir, Zephyr! Even I, a worthless mage, am so well respected. And why is he talking to me?'
Zephyr turned to look at the person who called him.
It was an older man in his forties. Compared to Zephyr, he was more than twice his age. And yet, the person bowed when Zephyr turned around and scurried forward. In this world, where all mages are considered nobles, he was trained to be respectful to them. After all, just the title of a mage was something worth respecting.
'As expected of a feudal kingdom.'
Zephyr nodded when the man approached him.
"What do you need?" He asked in his usual, detached tone.
The man panted while speaking.
"The chief asked if you could come to the village hall. He seems to have something to say to you."
"Me?" Zephyr raised an eyebrow.
'Wasn't I supposed to be 'well-respected'. So, even if the chief had something to say, shouldn't he come to me?' Zephyr wondered.
In this feudalistic world, people are divided into distinct social classes. For example, the nobles are classified as baron, viscount, count, marquess and duke in order. The lowest-ranked among the class is the baron, and the highest is the duke.
Below the nobles were the knights and free people. And below that were peasants. The lowest class is a slave.
A mage who can use mana, by default, is considered a noble. Though there exists no title, even the weakest mage is regarded as the same rank as a baron.
So, a village chief, a slightly more important peasant, calling him to appear before him seemed a little off.
Although Zephyr doesn't care about the class system, he didn't understand the village chief's thought process. After all, he was considered just below the rank of the lord of the land, Viscount Whitewater, in hierarchy.
'Perhaps something important happened, and he needs my help. If so, he should have led with that.'
Zephyr gazed at the person who was standing before him, scrutinising each and every action.
'He does not look like he meant to show disrespect.' Zephyr stayed silent for a while before concluding.
"What does he need me for?" He asked.
In this world, everything and anything could kill him. So, he had to be extra careful before doing anything.
Zephyr inquired, looking straight at the man.
"Did something happen?"
His voice was calm and cold, sending a chill down the spine of the older man. The older man wiped the sweat building up over his forehead and answered.
"Um! Sir, I heard that the fishermen who went to the sea today saw unusual crab activity near the islands."
"Which island?"
"The ones nearby."
"Okay." Zephyr frowned. "But what does that have to do with me?"
The man standing in front of Zephyr swallowed hard nervously before promptly replying.
"Sir, the arrival of the storm season is signalled by the abundance of crab. The summer is near its end, and the sea winds are about to change. So, we believe the storm season is about to begin. That might be why the village chief called you."
In a single breath, the older man explained.
Zephyr waited patiently, hearing everything the man had to say. His eyes then darted towards the expansive sea and the sun slowly sinking into the western horizon.
'The storm season! That's new news to me. There is no memory of anything about that in my head.'
Zephyr tried to recall any pieces of information he could. But his mind was blanking. The original Zephyr appears to have no information available about it.
How could he, when he took on the job of storm keeper just a few months ago?
Before becoming a stormkeeper, Zephyr was just a failed student of the storm tower. He was considered an eyesore and was often given menial jobs. But once he came of age, he was promptly kicked away from the safety of the tower, erasing his presence.
'Storm season, Stormkeeper. It kind of makes sense.'
'Storm season might be dangerous.'
'Why else would a small village need a mage to work for them?'
'Anyway, it gives off a bad vibe. Should I escape before the storm season begins?'
Zephyr wondered.
It made sense when you consider his strength. Till now, he has yet to even experiment with mana-gathering spells. Shortening it would take a considerable amount of time. Even then, he couldn't be sure of anything.
Staying in the village while knowing all that didn't really make sense.
Escape was a viable option.
"Sir…" Seeing Zephyr immersed in his thoughts, the older man called out again.
"Yes."
Zephyr snapped out of his thoughts and glanced over at the man. Then, as if he had made a decision, he asked the man to guide him to the village hall.
Soon, they began to walk towards their destination.
For some reason, after thinking for a while, Zephyr decided against running away.
Though this world was dangerous, it also held incredible opportunities. He decided to hear out the village chief before deciding what to do.
—
A few minutes later, breathing heavily, Zephyr reached a thatched building made out of brick walls. It was situated a few hundred meters away from the beach, below the hill, overlooking the village.
Near the village hall, a few people wearing coarse clothes were walking around. Most of them were fishermen.
Zephyr could instantly recognise their occupation because of the bronze tan they had, unlike his pale white skin.
As they saw Zephyr arriving, they made way for him and invited him to the village hall.
Zephyr was not used to the warm welcome. To hide his shy nature, he froze his facial muscles as he walked. This caused the fishermen to think Zephyr was a stern person.
Although the truth was completely different, none dared to test it.
The wooden door of the village hall was open. So, Zephyr walked in, avoiding the gazes of the people nearby.
Once he was inside, he saw an elderly man standing near a table, marking something on it.
'That is the village chief.'
The elderly village chief appeared to be in his sixties. Similar to other fishermen, he had tanned skin, though his tan was much deeper.
As Zephyr walked closer, he noticed that the entire table was a giant map, carved onto the wooden surface by someone.
The elderly man, with a head full of grey hair, was looking over the entire map, thinking hard about something while placing small pebbles as markers on the table.
'What is he doing? Is this the map of this land? It looks like it includes the sea.' Zephyr wondered, but stayed silent, letting the man complete his work.