There are moments in life that defy words, a silence so heavy and awkward it feels like a physical weight. Boran was in one of those moments now.
Should he apologize? "I'm sorry for being born with the blood of your enemies," perhaps? But that was absurd. These were relatives he’d never even met. Still, to pretend he knew nothing felt like a coward's path. After all, the immense magical power thrumming in his veins was a direct inheritance from that same Lineage. It was like claiming the riches of his ancestors while insisting their debts had nothing to do with him.
How long had the terrible quiet stretched on?
Finally, Batyr gave Boran’s shoulder a hearty pat. "Don't look like you're about to keel over! It's not like you fought in the war, did you?"
Boran thought it was Batyr who looked like he was dying, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. He just nodded silently.
"There's no sense in your generation getting tangled in the messes of the old one," Batyr continued, though the bitter twist to his mouth didn't fade. "If you try to wash blood with blood, the fighting never ends. And it's always the common folk who suffer for it."
Boran asked quietly, "Do you regret it?"
"Regret what?"
"Telling me to go down the hill."
If Boran were to pursue his power, joining House Kulan was almost inevitable. The great houses were built around their Lineage abilities; it was the only way to become a core member. This put House Samarkhan, the house Batyr served, at enormous risk. A powerful wizard suddenly joining the ranks of their old enemy could be a fatal blow.
But to Boran’s pointed question, Batyr simply shook his head.
"I trust your character," he said. "The kindness you showed a stranger, going so far as to reveal the identity you’d hidden just to help me… If someone like you joins House Kulan, maybe even rises to lead it, you might be the one to prevent another monstrous war from ever happening."
Boran thought Batyr was giving him far too much credit. He had treated the old knight well because his mother had taught him to, and because he’d been starving for a conversation that wasn't laced with hostility. He’d saved Batyr’s life because he couldn’t stand to watch someone he’d enjoyed talking to die. If Batyr had been cold or dismissive, Boran probably wouldn't have cared if he lived or died.
As Boran stood lost in thought, staring at the ground, Batyr shook his head. "Well, no need to get so serious about it. You haven't even decided to join them yet, have you?"
"That's true."
Honestly, wandering around hunting magical beasts like Batyr did sounded more appealing right now. He had no desire to be tied down, and this way, he could see more of the world. Besides, everything he’d just learned about House Kulan had left a sour taste in his mouth.
"In any case, I'll stay here until your wounds have healed. I'll think about it until then."
"Wounds?" Batyr boomed with a hearty laugh. "This is hardly anything! Just a few scratches, really!"
While Batyr recovered, Boran decided to formally learn about magic from him. He had only ever wielded his power recklessly, with no real understanding of its principles. There was much to learn.
"Magical power, or mana, is often called the 'Key to Omnipotence'," Batyr began.
"The Key to Omnipotence..."
"But it's not truly all-powerful, despite the name. To be precise, every feat requires a proportional price in mana. You've surely felt that yourself."
"What determines that price?" This was the very question that had always stumped Boran.
At his inquiry, Batyr cleared his throat and held up three fingers. "The difficulty of any magic is determined by three major factors. First is Lineage, second is mastery, and third is causality."
Lineage, mastery, causality. Boran sat still, engraving the words in his mind.
"The first, Lineage, is simple enough. It’s the innate ability you’re born with, so it doesn't apply to knights. For example… it would be difficult for you to heal my wounds, wouldn't it?"
"Yes."
"Those with the Apsara Lineage—the Healer's Lineage—in the southwest can use healing magic naturally, without any special training. The strongest among them can reattach severed limbs and cure any disease. But for someone of a different Lineage, achieving that is nearly impossible, no matter how hard they try. That's Lineage at work."
The first thing that came to Boran’s mind was his mother. If he had been born with that power, she wouldn't have died from her illness. He bit his lip, pushing the useless thought away.
"Then what does the second factor, mastery, mean?"
"You could also call it proficiency. It just means a wizard finds it easier to do things they’re already familiar with. A wizard who often swings a sword will find it easier to create an incorporeal blade or magically strengthen a real one. A wizard who loves to swim will find it easier to move through water with magic."
"Is that why I throw flames like I'm throwing stones?"
"Sharp lad. Exactly. If you'd just tried to project a simple flame, it wouldn't have had nearly that much speed or power."
Having experienced it himself, Boran understood immediately. Batyr smiled, looking pleased with his quick-witted student, but then his brow furrowed.
"The third and final factor, causality, is the most important and the most complicated. To be honest, even I don't fully grasp it. Put simply, it's the idea that more 'natural' events happen more easily…"
Batyr stroked his chin for a moment, searching for the right words. "What do you think would happen if you used your mana to try and kill me right now?"
"Your head would probably just glow a little, and nothing else would happen." Boran pictured what had happened when he’d tried to use magic directly on the magical beast.
"Exactly. That's a lack of causality. It happens when there’s no proper cause for the effect you want, or when the task itself is just too difficult. In your case, it would be both."
"I think I understand what you mean by 'cause'."
"Explain it."
"If I wanted to kill you, I couldn't just spend mana and wish you dead. I would need to provide a cause for your death, like creating a fireball and shooting it at you. It’s more 'natural' to create and launch the fireball than it is to just make fire appear on you."
It was a conclusion Boran had drawn from his fight with the undead creature.
Batyr clapped his hands, his expression full of admiration. "Perfect! You have the mind of a scholar, not just a wizard. Your understanding is exceptional. And you're right, establishing a proper cause can drastically reduce the mana you consume."
"But why can I kill or control ordinary wolves and sheep with no trouble, but magical beasts are different?" Boran had always used his magic to deal with dangerous animals quickly and had never met any resistance. The magical beast was the first time.
"That's because creatures with mana develop a resistance to magic proportional to how much they possess. However, if you hit them with a spell that’s already been formed, you can bypass much of that resistance. Of course, if the power gap is too great, the spell might still fizzle out, but that's another matter."
Batyr explained this was also why Boran's fire had instantly incinerated the undead spirit, while his own spell had barely singed it. In short, casting magic directly on another wizard was a fool's errand.
After listening for a while, Boran felt a headache coming on and pressed his thumbs to his temples. "Magic isn't simple, is it?"
"A great wizard isn't just someone with a deep well of mana. Understanding the principles, knowing your own limits, and using your surroundings—those are just as important."
Boran closed his eyes, reviewing everything Batyr had taught him. As he did, he realized there was one thing he hadn't asked.
"Come to think of it, does the Kulan Lineage have a special magic?" Batyr had mentioned their keen sense of smell, night vision, and aim, but none of those seemed like a magical ability.
At Boran’s question, Batyr nodded. "It does. Kulan wizards excel at Concealment and Tracking. Have you ever tried either?"
"I've used Tracking a few times. Never Concealment."
Boran had used Tracking to check on his mother's safety or to hunt the wolves that roamed too close to the hill. It was the same magic that had led him to Batyr. But he’d never had a reason to hide from anyone on the hill.
"Try it now. Many wizards with an aptitude for it can manage basic invisibility, but true Concealment—erasing yourself completely from perception—that is an ability exclusive to the Kulan Lineage."
Boran immediately focused his mind. I don't want to be seen. I don't want to be heard. I don't want my scent to be noticed.
As soon as the thought formed, he felt his mana draining away at a startling rate. He looked down at his hands and body, but nothing seemed to have changed. "Did it work?"
Instead of answering, Batyr stared blankly toward him, his eyes unfocused. "It worked. I can't see you. Are you still there?"
Boran stood and walked slowly around the room. Batyr’s gaze remained fixed on the empty chair where Boran had been sitting. Even when Boran stomped his foot or snapped his fingers, the old knight gave no sign he’d heard a thing.
Satisfied, Boran let the magic drop. Batyr’s eyes immediately snapped into focus, glaring at him. A moment later, he let out a long sigh, the tension leaving his body.
"It's been a long time since I've seen that," he said, his voice grim. "It's as terrifying as I remember. During the war, the Samarkhan knights used to pray the sun would never set. Too often, we'd wake to find the men in the neighboring barracks all had their throats slit."
"This… this seems completely unfair." It was a horrifying power, a world away from the gentle healing magic he’d wished for earlier. How could you possibly fight an enemy you couldn't even perceive?
Batyr shook his head. "It's not invincible. Certain high-level magic artifacts can pierce Kulan's Concealment. You can also raise the mana cost by bathing an area in light or just blasting it indiscriminately. Of course, even with countermeasures, it's still a fearsome ability. It's why Kulan became one of the great houses."
The only real drawback was its massive mana consumption. But that could be overcome by hunting enough magical beasts to increase one’s reserves. And with practice, the cost of maintaining Concealment would gradually decrease.
"Well, that's enough theory for today," Batyr said. "From now on, I'll teach you some practical training methods…"
In the three days it took for Batyr's wounds to heal, Boran learned about much more than magic. He learned about the shape of the world—though Batyr admitted his knowledge was patchy—the names and locations of the great wizarding houses, and the basic skills needed for a life on the road.
On the morning of their departure, Boran packed a leather rucksack with dried rations, a change of clothes, a small cook pot, and his mother's keepsakes, then stepped out of the house.
Batyr was already outside, soaking in the morning sun. "You look troubled," he observed.
"I'm leaving the only home I've ever known."
"Don't take it so hard. If you don't like the world out there, you can always come back."
Boran gave a bitter smile and shook his head. No matter how much he hated the world below, he would never return to this wretched place. He would find somewhere else.
They walked down the hill together. Boran's first stop was the village chief's house, where he announced his intention to sell all the sheep on the hill.
The chief’s eyes went wide. "Sell the sheep? And leave? Who's going to shepherd them?"
"That's for you to figure out. Just give me a fair price. If you don't, I'll walk back up that hill and set every last one of them free. You can try to round them up again, but I imagine it'll be quite the hassle."
Fortunately, the chief didn't try to haggle. He offered a decent price, likely because he knew from experience that Boran was a man of his word. If Boran said he’d break an arm, an arm got broken. If he said he’d smash a head, a head got smashed.
Leaving the village, Boran jingled the pouch of silver coins. "By the way, they never gave you your reward. Want me to go back and collect it?"
Batyr just laughed it off. "I wasn't going to take it anyway. The beast turned into an undead spirit, so I have nothing to show for it. Besides, you're the one who killed it in the end." The old knight wasn't hurting for money; his severance pay from his house was more than generous. He had only come to hunt the beast as a favor to begin with.
They walked on, chatting idly, until the path split in two.
Boran’s voice was a little subdued. "I suppose this is where we part ways."
"That it is. You're heading south, so you'll want the path on the right."
Boran had wanted to ask if he could travel with Batyr for a while, but the knight had already turned him down, saying he preferred to travel alone. Boran felt a pang of disappointment but didn't let it show.
"Well then, take care, Boran. I hope we meet again, smiling."
"Thank you, sir. For everything."
After their farewells, Batyr started down the left path without a single backward glance.
Watching him go, Boran finally understood why he had never wanted the old knight to use formal, polite words with him. Though he’d never lacked his mother’s love, deep down, Boran had always longed for a father. Someone warm and steady, someone who could show him what kind of man to be.
He stood and watched until Batyr’s figure was just a speck in the north, then vanished entirely. Only then did Boran turn and slowly begin to walk south.
An unknown world was waiting.