B9 - Chapter 33: Viola’s Grace

The ship docked, and the passengers were urged to disembark before the crew began unloading the cargo.

Viola had been dreading this moment, and now it had finally arrived. She had neither an entry permit nor any willingness to reveal her identity. It was a problem not even the party could help her with.

She followed the others down the gangplank, doing her best to appear as though she belonged.

An official waited at the bottom.

"Purpose of entry?"

"Trade," answered the merchant ahead of her.

The official waved him through.

When Viola's turn came, she hesitated only briefly.

"Mercenary work. I'm answering the Hohenheim summons."

The official's attention shifted to the single dagger at her waist, but he didn't comment on it.

"Independent or attached to a team?"

"...Attached."

"Name of the team?"

Viola's mind raced.

She had never asked.

"We don't have one."

The official grunted, clearly unimpressed but professional enough to keep it to himself. He continued to scribble away at the clipboard in front of him a moment longer.

"At the personal request of Lord Hohenheim, temporary entry is granted to all applicants until the recruitment period ends. Please register with the Hohenheim estate within the week."

He handed her a thin copper token stamped with a tower.

"Keep this on you until then. Anyone without a permit or temporary token will be detained."

That was it.

No identification.

No family name.

No questions about how, where, or why she had boarded the ship.

Viola closed her fingers around the token and stepped past him before he could change his mind.

The team was already waiting for her.

"All right," Sebastian said, stopping before the crowd could swallow them. "We're meeting at the Silver Kettle. Fourth Layer, eastern quarter. Before sundown."

"...Silver Kettle?" Bernard asked. "That's not our usual spot."

Sebastian nodded. "The Hohenheim estate reserved the entire tavern. We'll get a few days of free lodging once I sign us up."

Grent grunted. "Anything else?"

"No."

Irina looked toward Viola. "Caught that?"

"Silver Kettle. Fourth Layer, eastern quarter. Before sundown."

"Good. Try to make it on time."

Viola frowned. "Why wouldn't I?"

Irina glanced meaningfully at the city around them. "The place has a way of... Ah, no point explaining. You'll see for yourself."

Before Viola could even open her mouth to protest, the group dispersed.

Grent vanished toward a row of shops. Bernard and Irina wandered off together, still arguing about where to go first, while Sebastian disappeared into the crowd in the opposite direction.

Viola was left standing alone.

She looked around.

For the first time in as long as she could remember, she had absolutely nowhere she needed to be.

Her hand moved to the pocket where she had stuffed the coins earned from hunting monsters. A satisfying metallic clink answered her.

A grin spread across her face.

Nothing to do, and a pocket full of money to spend.

Could there be anything better?

Viola started her exploration immediately.

The lowest layer was unlike any city district she had ever seen. Merchants occupied seemingly every available patch of ground. Stalls spilled into the streets, signs competed for space overhead, and vendors loudly advertised everything from fresh fruit to monster organs.

Viola stopped more than once before she even made it out of the pier.

The first time was to inspect a row of brightly colored fruits she had never seen before.

Again, when she spotted a merchant openly displaying several Beast cores beneath a glass counter.

And a third time when she caught the unmistakable scent of grilled meat.

She bought two skewers.

Then circled back for a third.

From there, she browsed dozens, then hundreds of stalls. One merchant sold glass bottles containing clouds gathered from distant mountain peaks. Another loudly insisted that the enormous black heart on his table had come from a sea serpent, while the merchant beside him shouted that it was merely an oversized fish.

Porters hurried between the stalls, using crude bursts of Earth and Wind Magic to shift cargo through the crowds. Nobody spared the spells so much as a glance.

By the time Viola remembered that she had a deadline, the sun had already moved considerably across the sky.

She looked at it reluctantly before beginning to make her way inward.

The transition between layers proved considerably less dramatic than she had expected.

There were gates, certainly, but nobody stopped her. She simply followed the crowds through broad passages and up sloping streets, occasionally taking one of the mechanical lifts connecting the different levels.

With every bit of elevation, something changed.

The streets grew wider.

The buildings taller.

The shouting quieter.

By the time Viola reached the Fourth Layer, even the shops had transformed.

Across the street, a polished sign displayed three interlocking Mana formations. It read:

Marla's Artificing and Spellcraft.

Viola stared through the window.

Then she entered.

That was her first mistake. Her second was discovering that the neighboring establishment specialized in affinity crystals. The one beside it sold enchanted weapons.

The Fourth Layer, instead of exotic stalls, was crowded with such shops, each drawing her attention more than the last. One workshop sold enchanted household tools. Another displayed rows of Mana-conductive metals. A third offered custom-built foci for seemingly every affinity imaginable.

Viola spent nearly twenty minutes watching an artificer demonstrate a self-heating cooking plate.

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It was an absurd waste of Mana.

She wanted one immediately.

The automatic kettle next door was even more impressive.

Eventually, Viola found herself inside the affinity-crystal shop, examining a tray of pale green stones. None contained enough Wind Mana to be useful in combat, but their internal structures were surprisingly clean.

"Those are six silver each," the shopkeeper said.

Viola nearly dropped the crystal.

"Six silver?"

The woman behind the counter raised a brow. "Five if you buy three."

Viola turned the crystal between her fingers. Back home, a specimen of similar purity would have cost several times as much. Not because it was especially rare, but because anything related to Wind Magic was controlled by her family.

"What are they used for?" Viola asked.

"Beginner exercises, mostly. Children use them to practice Mana recognition."

Viola slowly returned the crystal to its place.

Children?

Could there really be a market for this outside the academies?

Before she could ask, she noticed how low the sun had gotten.

"Oh."

She hurried outside.

The Silver Kettle.

Fourth Layer. Eastern quarter.

Before sundown.

She was already going to have to hurry.

Viola had barely made it halfway down the street when she heard laughter from somewhere nearby. The voices sounded young. Normally, she would have ignored them, but then she felt a slight stirring of Wind Mana.

Her head turned.

Another pulse followed.

Viola frowned.

If she stopped now, there was no chance of reaching the Silver Kettle before sundown.

Another pulse of Mana passed through the air.

Sloppy.

Uneven.

Her curiosity burned especially fiercely today.

"...One look," she muttered.

The sensation came from somewhere behind the buildings. Viola glanced around before stepping into a narrow alley, then pushed off the ground.

The Wind caught her.

A moment later, she rose above the rooftops.

She found them immediately.

Five children had gathered in a small courtyard between the buildings. The oldest among them couldn't have been more than sixteen.

One boy stood atop a wooden crate.

"You're leaning!"

"I'm not!"

"You are!"

"Shut up!"

The boy stepped forward.

His foot met empty air.

Mana gathered beneath it.

The foothold formed too low.

The boy yelped, frantically poured more Mana into the spell, and bounced upward with an awkward hop.

Step.

Rise.

Wobble.

The boy managed another foothold.

Then a third.

It collapsed.

He dropped onto a pile of old sacks amid roaring laughter.

"That's it? Three steps?"

"That was three and a half!"

"It was barely three!"

The boy climbed back onto the crate, but another child shoved him aside and took his place.

Wind Mana gathered.

There was no instructor, no training equipment beyond a wooden crate and a pile of discarded sacks. Just five ordinary children practicing Magic in a backyard.

The longer Viola watched, the more irritated she became.

One mistake followed the next, with nobody there to correct their flaws before they became habits.

Wasn't this exactly why her instructors had always insisted that she never practice without supervision?

This was how one ruined their foundations.

Too much Mana.

Viola straightened.

The girl shot upward, twisted sideways, and lost control. Her first attempt to correct herself only made the rotation worse.

She was heading straight for the stone wall.

Viola's body moved before her mind had even caught up.

Before the girl could strike it, Viola appeared behind her and caught her by the collar of her shirt like a cat carrying its young.

Wind gathered around them, swallowing their remaining momentum.

Immediately, the courtyard fell silent.

All five children stood frozen in shock at the sudden appearance of a stranger in a long coat with her hood pulled low.

Feeling somewhat awkward, Viola released the girl's collar but used the Wind to dampen her fall, allowing her to land softly.

The girl stumbled away.

One of the boys stepped between them, while the smallest child retreated behind the crate.

Viola looked at the children, who were now staring back at her with fearful eyes.

"What were you doing just now?" she asked, more to break the awkward silence than anything else.

"...Just a bit of practice, ma'am," the first boy said. "Nothing more."

"Practice," Viola repeated. "Where is your teacher?"

The children exchanged uncertain glances.

"Ain't got no teacher, ma'am," the boy replied.

Viola's eyebrows knit together.

"Then who teaches you? Your Sponsors?"

The boy shook his head.

"None of us got one of those either, ma'am."

Viola's gaze slowly moved across the children staring back at her.

They didn't seem to be lying.

At least, not that she could tell.

But... that didn't make any sense.

They had all been practicing the same spell. That meant there had to be some sort of systematized education at work.

But with no teacher and no family backing them, how would these shabby-looking kids ever be able to afford spells? Unless they had illegally shared a stolen copy between them, but that didn't seem all that likely either. Any purchase was usually accompanied by a Sealing Ritual, making illegal distribution almost impossible.

The mystery only made her more curious.

Viola pointed at the first boy, who had been preparing to try again.

"You need to work on your control. You release your Mana just a beat too late. By the time the foothold forms, your foot has already started to sink."

The boy stared back at her with a blank expression.

But Viola was already looking at the second boy.

"And you..."

One by one, she pointed out every flaw she had observed in that short time, venting her frustration while giving the kids what she considered valuable insights.

Lastly, her finger pointed at the girl who was still standing near her.

"And you," Viola started. "Your control is by far the best, and yet you fail the earliest. The reason is your terrible sense of balance. Applied Magic is as much a physical task as a mental one. If your body can't keep up, there is no point in improving your Magic any further."

There was a moment of silence as the children's expressions shifted from fearful to confused, and then to contemplative.

Viola suddenly felt awkward.

Now that she had said her piece, she couldn't help but feel that she had overstepped. Approaching a group of strangers and offering unsolicited advice would naturally not be received favorably.

The first boy remained still for another moment.

Then, under the watchful eyes of the others, he cautiously climbed back onto the crate.

He stepped forward.

Viola noticed the difference instantly.

He released his Mana just a fraction sooner, allowing his foot to find purchase before it could even begin to sink.

One step.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Then he fumbled his timing once more and fell to the side.

Viola waved her hand, and a gust of Wind pushed him upright before he could crash into the ground. Just like the girl, he landed gently on his feet.

He stared at Viola with wide eyes.

Then he smiled broadly.

"You're the best, sister!"

"I'll go next!"

The one to yell was the second boy, who had trouble constructing a proper spellform. His progress was less explosive, though Viola found that he still broke his earlier record.

One by one, the group of kids lined up to try their luck.

These children... were strange.

Each one of them improved after no more than a few words from her. They absorbed her instructions like eager little sponges, as if they had been starved for them.

More surprising, though, was the complete absence of the wounded pride she had expected. Instead, each and every one of them looked at her with shining eyes after every attempt, waiting eagerly for more.

Viola didn't hold back either.

The moment she realized these kids wouldn't hold it against her, she criticized them to her heart's content. Every tiny flaw was pointed out.

Posture.

Mana Control.

Manifestation.

She didn't even notice when the sun dipped beneath the horizon and the city's artificial lights took over.

"...Your control is still lacking," she said to the third boy. "Why aren't you using an incantation?"

The boy rubbed his head awkwardly. "They taught us not to. Said it was a crutch."

"...They?"

"You know? During the lectures...?"

Viola tilted her head.

Lectures?

Were they part of an academy after all?

It didn't seem like it, but then who were these lecturers?

"I'm new to the city," Viola admitted. "Can you explain? Or is it a secret?"

The first boy stepped forward. "It's not a secret, sis. Everyone in the city knows about it. He's talking about the free Magic lessons."

"Free... Magic... lessons...?"

Even saying the words aloud felt strange.

Who, in their right mind, would ever do something like this?

"Whose...?"

"The Hohenheim family, sister," the girl answered.

Viola felt her entire body go rigid.

"Are you certain?"

The first boy answered confidently. "Absolutely, sis. I was there myself during the very first one. Back then, it was none other than the Merchant Lord himself who taught us."

"Zeke... did?" she muttered, the words so soft they were barely audible.

This didn't match the wrathful man she had seen in her dream.

It reminded her of the old Zeke.

The kind, caring boy she had known.

Had he... found his way out of that darkness?

Viola cleared her throat.

This wasn't the time to get emotional.

Especially not in front of these kids.

"Is that where you learned the spell?"

The group exchanged confused glances.

"The spell?" the first boy asked. "We bought it."

"...All of you?" Viola asked in disbelief.

"Naturally," the girl replied proudly. "It's the first Wind spell of the Hohenheim Hundred. What else would we do?"

Viola felt more and more as though she had somehow wandered into a strange dream.

Nothing these kids were saying made any sense.

"...Hohenheim Hundred? What's that?"

The first boy frowned, evidently deep in thought, before his eyes suddenly lit up.

"Officially, I think they're called Maximilian von Hohenheim's One Hundred Free Spells."

Viola's breath caught.

"Free? But you just said you bought it."

"The spell is free," the boy explained. "The Association only charges for the parchment, the copying, and the registration."

"And there was no Sealing Ritual?" Viola asked.

All five children stared at her blankly.

"...Why would there be?" the girl asked.

Viola had no answer.

"Could I... take a look?"

The children exchanged glances before they all nodded in unison.

The girl stepped forward and produced a worn piece of paper from her pocket.

"...Just for a moment, though," she said. "I need it back."

Viola nodded absentmindedly as she accepted the clearly worn-out parchment.

Carefully, she unfolded it.

The first thing she saw was the spellform.

Simple.

That was the first word that came to mind.

But the longer she looked, the more another word replaced it.

Elegant.

The spell was as basic as it could be. It created a temporary cushion of air, lasting just long enough to step on.

However, Viola's years of experience told her something more.

The spell contained all the fundamentals of Wind Magic.

In a sense, it was a perfect vehicle for mastering more complicated spells later on.

Speed.

Balance.

Control.

It contained just the right amount of each component to prepare a young Mage for a promising future without overburdening them.

There was something else too.

Something strangely familiar in the way the spell prioritized motion over stability, demanding that the caster trust their next step before the previous foothold had even disappeared.

It was... graceful. Just like wind was supposed to be.

Finally, once she understood the gist of it, her eyes drifted toward the top of the page, belatedly reading the title.

"...Sister?"

A single tear slid down Viola's cheek.

She didn't even notice.

Her eyes remained fixed on the single line written at the top of the page.

Wind Magic, Level 1:

[Viola's Grace]