NOVEL NEXT 6
Coming to the library on a day off probably meant the kid really liked books.
Satin softened his footsteps, carefully wandering between the bookshelves so as not to disturb anyone.
“Satin?”
A kid crouched in the corner reading a book spotted him.
“Hey.”
Satin gave a small smile and sat down beside him. He wasn’t exactly sure how to deal with kids, but being kind should do the trick.
The kid looked to be around fifteen at most. Maybe even younger. Possibly a tall twelve-year-old who just hit a growth spurt.
The kid asked, “Did you come here to read?”
“Not exactly. I wanted to find something out.”
The kid tilted his head. Judging by the look on his face, he hadn’t heard about Satin’s amnesia yet. Maybe the kids who played outside kept that information to themselves.
Satin thought for a moment, wondering how to bring it up naturally, then opened his mouth.
“Did you hear about me going into the Confession Room?”
“Yeah, I heard about it from Tim this morning.”
The kid nodded without any sign of suspicion. It seemed there wasn’t some kind of factional divide between the indoor and outdoor kids.
“Did he tell you why I went in?”
“No idea. Didn’t you make the teacher super mad or something?”
“I don’t know either. The truth is… I don’t really remember.”
At that, the kid’s eyes widened in surprise.
“What do you mean?”
“Something’s wrong with me. I don’t remember anything from before. So I’ve been going around asking people to see if anyone knows something.”
“What do you mean you don’t remember anything? You don’t even remember me?”
“Honestly? Yeah.”
The kid’s mouth fell open. His limbs were long and lanky, but his face looked round and puffy, like a bread bun.
“My name’s Rogers…”
Rogers leaned in, trying to see if Satin was messing with him. Satin gave an awkward smile. In contrast, Rogers’ expression grew more serious. His eyes darted back and forth as he tried to reason it out.
“Maybe you were doing magic research with the teacher and that’s what happened. Like, maybe you hit your head using some dangerous spell or something…”
Same theory as Rufus. Apparently, everyone seemed to know that Satin had been involved in the teacher’s research.
“Did I ever mention what kind of research it was?”
Satin’s question made Rogers shake his head—then he paused, like he just remembered something.
“Did something come to mind?”
“You said something before. Something about how it wasn’t going well. Maybe you meant the research?”
“Not going well?”
“It was around the time the whole mood at school got weird because of Maggie… Could’ve been related.”
Maggie?
Before Satin could ask, Rogers trailed off and shook his head.
“I’m not really sure.”
Satin didn’t push further. Pressuring someone who didn’t know anything would only leave a bad impression. And he wanted to come across as friendly.
“Thanks for telling me. I’ve been really anxious not remembering anything.”
Luckily, he must have come across well. Rogers looked a little shy at the thanks. He gave Satin a light push on the shoulder, saying he should go now so he could read.
Satin left the library, figuring it might look weird if he went around questioning too many kids at once.
He passed the kitchen where Rufus worked and the empty dining hall, heading down the west corridor. There was a single classroom, and across from it were the washroom, the bath, and the laundry room. With only twelve students, maybe one classroom really was enough.
Satin thought back to the last school he had attended
Compared to back then, a single classroom really did feel inadequate. The kids weren’t even the same age. Just take Satin—he was eighteen. It didn’t feel right for someone like him to be attending the same classes as little ones like Tim or Heather.
Then again, this place doesn’t have compulsory education, does it?
Even in Korea, it hadn’t been that long since children were systematically educated based on age. Not even a hundred years. If this world was modeled after the 18th or 19th century, then maybe this kind of education system wasn’t so strange after all. Learning itself would be considered a blessing.
For now, Satin stepped out of the front entrance to look for the kids playing outside. The first thing that caught his eye was the dense forest surrounding the school grounds on all sides.
Yeah, it’d definitely be creepy walking into that at night.
In the dark, he probably wouldn’t even get ten steps in before getting lost. There was a path, but it was rugged—definitely not something people or vehicles traveled frequently.
Why on earth would anyone build a school out here? Sure, it looked pastoral…
As he took in the scenery, Satin followed the sounds of children’s voices.
“Satin, is it true you have amnesia?”
A group of four or five kids were playing around a big tree. Someone had tied a swing to one of the thick branches, and the one who’d just called to Satin was currently sitting on it. Tim, who was pushing the swing from behind, grumbled.
“I told you he does.”
“Really?”
The kids all rushed over and gathered around Satin. Maybe because they were so young, they didn’t seem worried—they just looked like they’d stumbled on something exciting. Their faces were bright with curiosity.
Satin hesitated, letting out a soft, “Uh…” as he struggled to react, and Tim pouted.
“Satin, tell them it’s true already! They think I’m lying!”
“Yeah, it’s true.”
“See! I told you! Satin doesn’t remember anything—he’s a total idiot now.”
He’s not an idiot, he just lost his memory…
Satin felt a bit sour about that but couldn’t really argue with a bunch of kids. If he got too serious, he’d just come off as the annoying adult who didn’t know how to take a joke.
Tim, thinking Satin had agreed with him, lifted his chin smugly.
Anyway, if everyone already believed he had amnesia, that made things easier.
“Hey, do any of you know why I ended up in the confessional yesterday?”
The kids looked around at each other, asking and answering with shrugs and glances. Eventually, one of them spoke up on behalf of the group.
“Nope. But you must’ve done something wrong.”
“Why?”
“’Cause the teacher wouldn’t punish you unless you deserved it…”
The kids nodded among themselves—yeah, that’s true, totally true.
“You all really like the teacher, huh.”
At that, one kid burst into laughter.
“Of course! I don’t even want to think about life before I came here.”
“Same here…”
“Yeah, it was really bad.”
One after another, the kids started pouring out stories about the tough times they’d had. They were all orphans or runaways with nowhere to go, and it sounded like they’d gone through a lot trying to survive on the streets.
If they all liked the teacher this much, why did Cain hate him? There was that line in Dark Age about Cain almost becoming a test subject, but at this point, he shouldn’t know anything yet.
Satin glanced around, then casually asked,
“What’s Cain like?”
One of the kids tilted their head.
“What about Cain?”
“We share a room, but I don’t think he likes me very much. I was just wondering what kind of person he is.”
The kids looked like they were thinking it over, then started talking over each other. Their high-pitched voices—still untouched by puberty—sounded like chirping birds, regardless of whether they were boys or girls.
“Cain didn’t like the teacher from the start.”
“He’s probably gonna run away.”
“Cain’s mean. The teacher needs to find out fast.”
Mixed in with the gossip, some of the comments struck Satin as oddly specific. He cut in to redirect the conversation.
“What do you mean, he’s gonna run away?”
Tim replied.
“Sometimes kids run away. I don’t really get why, though.”
“Can’t they just leave? Why run away?”
Tim and the others looked at each other and shrugged.
“Yeah… good question.”
***
Two years ago, the wizard Laigeis first appeared in Cloverland. Cloverland was a city of moderate size—not too big, not too small—and had almost no wizards to speak of.
There were only a few elderly wizards, and they all held honorary positions in the government and the constabulary, living in luxury like aristocrats. In truth, aging wizards were pretty much the same wherever you went.
Laigeis, however, was a rather unusual wizard. Despite his hair having turned completely white with age, he showed no interest in cozying up to government offices or security agencies. He didn’t flaunt his power with arrogance, nor did he accept commissions for outrageous fees.
The first thing Laigeis did upon arriving in Cloverland was look for a building. At first, he checked out mansions near the city center, but when none suited his needs, he scouted out the surrounding villages. Eventually, he purchased a run-down mansion deep in the heart of a forest no one ventured into. It was a forest infamous for getting people hopelessly lost, so the property had been listed at a dirt-cheap price.
The place was uninhabitable without repairs, so Laigeis hired a few laborers. Because it was smack in the middle of a forest everyone avoided, he had to pay them handsomely.
Laborers from Cloverland and nearby villages spread the rumor as they worked: A strange wizard was planning to build a school.
Soon, not just Cloverland but even people from other cities began showing up. They came with children in tow, frequently visiting the construction site. Some even bribed the workers to try to get an introduction to Laigeis.
And it was no surprise. Most wizards only trained a single successor—maybe two at most. Wizards believed their rarity was their true source of power.
Because of that, while many people dreamed of becoming wizards, the path to becoming one was narrower than the eye of a needle. Parents desperate to get their child into a school that taught magic would have sold their very souls for the chance.
But Laigeis turned everyone away. He was planning to build a school, yes—but not one for training wizards. Disappointed, the hopefuls returned home.
In the midst of it all, someone asked:
“What, then, are you going to teach?”
“Anything and everything. I plan to take in children who are poor and have nowhere else to go, and teach them whatever I can.”