Half an hour later.
"When will we be done?" Finnian complained.
"This is several times longer than our final exam," Ryan replied wearily, carelessly holding his wand and sending a piece of wood flying.
"Yes, because we not only need to get these pieces of wood into place precisely, but also use magic to support their weight. Besides, the bridge is not small." Isabelle concentrated, her face dripping with sweat.
Suddenly, a hand placed on Finnian's shoulder made him jump, the piece of wood he was controlling almost being thrown into the stream.
"Excuse me,… Can I help?" It was the familiar voice from earlier.
"Oh, yes, sure! Ryan, Issa, I found more people to help." Finnian signaled to the two.
The two greeted the young man, still moving their hands quickly with the wooden pieces until they saw the young man walking straight towards the bridge under construction. Seeing the man walking towards the middle of the bridge without hesitation, Isabelle panicked and shouted, "Finnian, stop him!"
As Finnian quickly ran out, the wooden pieces and the pieces Isabelle and Ryan controlled were pulled away. All thirty or so wooden pieces simultaneously aimed straight at the young man.
Following his steps, the wooden pieces quickly fell into place like a simple puzzle. As soon as they fell into place, the joints lit up and stuck together just in time for him to step over, turning the bridge into a homogeneous mass, making the front part of the bridge look not completely in sync with the back part.
Facing that situation, the carpenter wiped his sweaty forehead and quickly ran back to check the durability of the bridge as well as its structure. With an OK signal, everyone, one by one, then a group of people moved across the bridge safely to go to Aleph. Around, the people were excitedly talking: "What a wonderful magic."
Seeing him suddenly clutch his head, stagger and quickly take out a pill to swallow, Finnian and his friends then noticed and ran to him.
"You..." Finnian stuttered, running back to the other party. "You scared me to death! Do you often repair bridges like this?"
Ryan and Isabelle walked back to him, looking back at the sturdy bridge, she asked:
"You just cast a floating spell on nearly thirty pieces of wood at the same time and moved them one by one into a position at a very fast time without using intermediate items such as wands or magic items to direct and magnify mana. At the same time, you also know the alchemy method to join everything together into a single mass!" Isabelle excitedly chattered, "How did you do it?"
"...I read about it in the book..."
"Then show me!"
"...Remember the last coordinates of the wood and connect the starting point of the remaining wood. Create a chain of blocks at the same time instead of creating a loop that breaks the chain with each one. Then use the cohesion of the wood and connect them together like a tree growing and developing," the person narrated.
"...Can you tell me more?" Isabelle was stunned, rummaging in her bag for a pen and paper.
"Come on, Issa, he already helped me." Finnian interrupted the conversation.
"Yeah, he must have been tired enough using that much," Ryan said, "Thanks for helping us."
The person waved goodbye and walked away.
"No, he told me he didn't go to school." Finnian waved his hand.
"I think so too. The Hat of Wisdom is a kind of personal badge. If someone is that great, why would they choose to buy a souvenir hat to wear?" Ryan commented.
The three of them then continued to follow the group of people walking into the city. Passing by an alley, Finnian wondered, "Hey, do you guys notice that the person in this wanted poster looks familiar?"
"Finnian, the face of the wanted poster is almost torn off, I can't recognize it. And the wanted poster has been looking at it for a long time, I think the knight must have caught him. Besides, 150 Solars seems to me to be a common reward for petty theft," Ryan commented.
"But isn't 'life or death' for a petty thief a bit too much?" Finnian continued.
"... handsome," Isabelle spoke up, staring at the wanted poster for a long time.
"Issa... you're talking about a criminal," Ryan said, lightly nudging Isabelle's shoulder.
"Those are two different things," Isabelle clarified.
"Then his crime," Finnian spun around, making several heart gestures, "is stealing someone's heart!"
Isabelle and Finnian giggled. Ryan looked disappointed, leaving everyone behind. Finnian and Isabelle saw this and ran after him, laughing and joking: "Hey, wait for us!"
***
Recently, Ark had started to take on a few commissions in the city since the number of orders from Miss Miriam in the village had almost been completed. The doorbell rang, and he walked out of the pharmacy after receiving the stamp of the successful commission and a small tip for the speed of completing the job.
He didn't know when, but when he visited this city again after a while, he felt like someone was following him. But he ignored it and put it behind his mind, continuing his stride back to the village.
On the way back to the village, while walking back and forth on the winding gravel road around the mountain, Ark remembered the first day he returned to the village. He stopped and looked down at the steep slope right under his boots. Then he slowly approached, placing half of his boot dangling off the edge. "Just one more step," he thought, "and I'll see everyone again."
But suddenly, from below the cliff, a gust of wind blew, blowing his hat away. When he turned back to pick it up, he stopped when he saw the recent scars on the back of his hand. And he suddenly remembered. "Ah, it's time to go pick up Al."
Meanwhile, in Yvette's antique shop, Al sat listening to the truth.
***
When Al stopped by Yvette's antique shop, Yvette was sitting right behind the counter with her favorite wooden swivel chair. She was busy carving a small wooden statue as a hobby to kill time. Seeing him, she smiled and waved, "Hello, is that Al? Come sit next to me."
The two happily chatted with each other, until Al asked Yvette,
"So, Yvette, what is this antique shop for anyway?"
"Maybe it's just a symbol?" Yvette happily replied, "When Sylv and Al go on adventures, they always send back home a lot of souvenirs, even food and valuable items."
"Is the Sylv you mentioned Sylvie?" Al asked curiously.
"Why do you ask?" Yvette raised her eyebrows, feeling interested because no one had asked about Sylv's other nickname for a long time.
"Because Ark would mutter Sylvie whenever he had nightmares."
Yvette stopped her hand from carving the wooden statue. It seemed like she was thinking about something. But it didn't seem like a happy memory as her face showed sadness, accompanied by sighs.
"Sylvie, Sylv, or Sylvianne March are all the same person." She paused, taking a breath to gather enough courage to continue, "She was my real sister. And Sylv is dead. Her grave is in the backyard."
Yvette looked at Al before forcing a smile. She continued, "And it's not like you think. Although losing Sylvie was expected when she went on an adventure. But honestly, it's still very difficult to face her death,... for you and Ark too."
"But what kind of person is Sylvie?"
"Sylv was very curious. When I was little, she would take me to climb trees, walk around the village, even out of the forest. One day, she took me to the house next door." Yvette recounted, smiling to herself, "And we saw Ark. The Marches adopted him. So we played together ever since. But when we grew up, Sylv wanted to go on a long adventure, and Ark agreed. But I stayed." Yvette continued to skillfully carve her statue. "And that adventure was terrible. I still remember that day. When she and Ark both went home together."
With the rabbit's questions, Yvette turned to tell her story. In that story, she remembered the fateful day two years ago.
***
Two years ago.
Outside the door, the thunder tore through the sky, sending a storm of rain pouring down like hundreds of waterfalls. That night, like every other night, Yvette silently prayed for Sylv and Ark's safety. She hadn't received a reply from Sylv for more than half a year. Both her father and mother were slowly losing hope. But they still hoped for the best news, or no matter how bad it was, because everything would be better if they knew something about their adventure. When the knocks on the door sounded, it was already dark, and the sound of pouring rain made it difficult for anyone to hear anything, but Yvette did, probably because deep down she was always waiting, waiting for some news.
And when she opened the door, the scene before her eyes could easily make anyone freeze in fear. The thunder struck before her, revealing the shape of a black shadow standing right in front of the porch. The body was worn out, covered in thick layers of clothes that had long since been torn apart. The stench of blood mixed with the smell of sweat and rain. His cheekbones, exposed through the Wisdom helmet, were covered with wounds and scratches that were gradually festering, white pus was swelling and oozing thick fluids mixed with blood. He stood still, looking as if he didn't know what pain was. On his shoulder was a broken wand. And on his back was a large wooden box. His mouth trembled as he said, "Yvette... I, I'm sorry."
Only then did she realize it was Ark.
His shoulders slumped, his head following suit. His face crumpled, squeezing out the tears, causing the wounds and pus to stir. His tears had long since dried; he whispered his confession, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, everyone."
As if sensing something was wrong, Yvette panicked, "Sylvie? Sylvie, where are your sisters? You?"
"I'm home, I'm sorry." Ark shook his head repeatedly. "I couldn't save anyone."
"Where is my sister!"
Before her eyes, Ark bowed his head, sobbing. Yvette ran over, grabbing his cloak.
"WHERE IS MY SISTER!" Yvette shouted, her screams drowning out the rain.
Ark didn't say anything, just looked at Yvette. At that moment, Yvette stopped. His eyes were lifeless. The whites of his eyes were streaked with blood, but they were unfocused. She saw him, but he was just staring into space. His blue eyes were as hazy as the eyes of a rotten fish. How much suffering had he had to endure?
Ark took a deep, slow breath as if the air were a thousand blades, trying to form disjointed words, "You sister is dead. We have offended the god. Her soul shattered."
Yvette's ears were ringing, she tried to push herself up but the ground was pounding with waves. Her face was on fire. She looked at him, she knew he was in as much pain as she was.
She cried, because everything was so sudden. She looked at him, her emotions pushing the pain to its limits. Because her sister was dead. And someone had to be responsible for this. And that person had to be him.
"Why did you do this to her?" She trembled. She begged herself not to continue, but... "My sister should not have gone on this adventure with you."
She begged herself to stop, but seeing his silence, she immediately exploded. "You bastard. Go away! Go away! Never come back here again. Leave her here, leave my sister alone! Get out of my sight! Now!"
That night, she screamed so much that her parents were woken up. And when they stopped her, she kept hitting and trying to push him away. But it wasn't until she saw her sister's incomplete, wrapped body being carried to the grave. By the time everyone collapsed in each other's arms and cried, he had already left.
***
Yvette's hand holding the knife slipped, causing a small, bleeding wound at the tip of her finger. But she ignored it and continued working, unaware that her face was filled with tears, "I've waited for him for so many years and now looking back, I still feel a shiver. I didn't think Ark could have gone off to some remote place and died without knowing it. He even had the coffin on his back. Ha… But at least he's back now."
Al looked at the wooden statue Yvette was holding. The sculpture seemed to be a clear failure, filled with uneven, unpredictable bumps and dents. But Yvette seemed satisfied with it. She lightly touched the surface of the statue and commented, "Time can change a lot of people. So Al, just because Ark is a little grumpy because of his injuries doesn't mean he doesn't deserve to be loved, Al." After saying that, she placed the statue on the table, wiping away her tears.
Al was silent. Looking over at the table where she had just placed the wooden statue, he saw a wooden statue of Ark. A person wearing a cloak, wearing a wide-brimmed hat on his head. Although the hat and cloak looked tattered, its smile remained the same, bright.
"Back then,... what kind of person was Ark, Yvette?" Al asked.
"Ark?... He loved studying and reading books. He always wanted to go to a school in the Eastern Continent. But because he didn't have any money, Sylv suggested that the two of them go on an adventure and earn money to study. But no matter what, Ark was still very sentimental and kind-hearted. Although that personality made him easily bullied when he was at home." Yvette rested her chin on her hand, recalling the old memories and happily turned her chair. "No matter how much time has passed, I can still see that trait in him, it's just that he's put up too many layers of defense for himself."
Yvette happily patted Al's head. But remembering something, she whispered to the boy, "There will be a lot of apprentices coming down from Aleph to the blacksmith shop soon, so both me and my family will be very busy. So, can I ask Al to take care of him for me?"
Seeing Al frowning in thought, she laughed out loud, "You don't have to agree, just think about it thoroughly."
The doorbell rang. Ark had come to take Al home.