Chương 24: Frog in The Well

Only the fire crackled after Will and Syl left. Velyn opened her notebook again, though this time she did not write. Her pencil rested against the blank page, perfectly still. Arien had the uncomfortable impression that the page was waiting for him.

"Sir Samwell was careful with his account," Velyn said at last.

"Annoyingly careful." Arien kept his face blank as she continued.

"He told me there was an incident during the Storm of Morth. He told me you behaved with unusual composure for a child not yet five. He also told me that, when offered a reward, you specifically requested reading and writing lessons." Her pencil turned once between her fingers.

"He did not tell me why." Arien said nothing. Velyn's smile remained polite.

"So I will ask directly. Why?"

"Why what, Lady Velyn?"

"Why literacy?" she asked.

"In your village, reading is not a necessity. It is an expensive luxury, useful mostly to priests, officials, and merchants."

"I don't intend to spend my whole life in the village."

"So why not ask for combat training or a profitable trade? Why specifically reading and writing?"

"I want to understand this world," he replied truthfully.

"Books contain things no one in the village can tell me. If I want those answers, I need to read."

"Oh. That's very interesting. To understand the world," she said with a spark in her eyes.

"Maybe you would like to become a Scholar?" For a moment, he let himself imagine days in a library surrounded by real books, with people who actually knew things and were willing to discuss them. He had not had a conversation like that since his previous life. It was a pleasant thought, which was precisely why he did not trust it. He had already mistaken comfort for purpose once, and pushed the idea aside.

"I don't know. Probably not. I'd rather explore the world by traveling. Seeing its wonders with my own eyes, not through authors' words."

"Ambitious goals for a village boy. Being smarter than the children around you does not mean you understand the world beyond Three Meadows. The first person with more experience, knowledge, and levels could crush you. Perhaps staying here would be wiser. You might become village elder one day. For the fourth son of a farmer, that would already be an achievement." For a moment, he saw the years passing in the same tiny village: fields, harvests, marriage, children, then grandchildren.

There was nothing shameful in such a life. It was simply, painfully small. The thought pulled up an older memory. Mathematics competitions, the certainty that he was special, and the belief that effort would always be enough. Then came the regional finals and the realization that hundreds of people were smarter than him. Thousands, perhaps millions. The memory still stung. He looked at Velyn for a moment, whose tone had grown sharper. Why was she suddenly angry? Because he didn't want to become a Scholar?

Or did she think he was just arrogant? Or…?

"Maybe you're right," he said. Velyn blinked.

"Maybe I am a frog in a well." He looked down at his hands, then at the notebook in her lap.

"That's why I need books. I don't even know where the edge is."

"And if there is no edge?" Velyn asked.

"Then I want to know that too." Velyn studied him for a long moment.

"You don't sound very discouraged."

"I don't think you were trying to discourage me."

"No?"

"No. If you wanted me gone, you would have simply told Sir Samwell no." Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work! Something in Velyn's expression shifted, and the corner of her mouth slowly rose.

"It's possible that was the condition under which I agreed to teach. And it may apply to all three of you. My father owed him a favor, but not enough for me to waste my time teaching spoiled brats. And don't get ahead of yourself. For you, I am Lady Velyn."

"And what do you get out of this, Lady Velyn?" Velyn's pencil stopped for a heartbeat.

"Pardon?" Arien lowered his eyes.

"When Sir Samwell called you one of the people in his service, you didn't like it, Lady Velyn." Too late, he realized how little like a child that sounded. He picked at his sleeve.

"I mean… you went to the Academy. You're a Scholar. That sounds important." Velyn said nothing.

"And Sir Samwell lives out here, far from the capital," Arien finished more quietly.

"So why are you here, Lady Velyn?" She smiled, warmer than before and much less harmless.

"You miss very little, don't you? If you're so clever, you should already know the answer." Arien pondered. Talking to Velyn felt like walking on thin ice. Every question tempted him to reveal a little more, to prove that he deserved to be taken seriously. Part of him wanted to tell her about the System, about discovering mana years too early, about everything he had accomplished alone. He wanted her praise. That realization bothered him more than it should have.

Velyn was the first truly educated person he had met in Erador, and he wanted her to look at him and see more than a farmer's child. Then the desire sharpened. Tell her. Arien went still. That had not felt entirely like his own thought. He remembered Sir Samwell's Command. This was different. No order seized his body or bent his choices into shape. It was softer than that, and somehow worse, because it fed a desire already inside him.

"So, Arien," Velyn said quietly, leaning a little closer.

"You want me to believe there is more to you than a farmer's son. Show me." For one absurd second, he wanted nothing more than to earn her praise. Maybe if he showed her some magic, she would finally look at him the way he wanted. Arien went still. Why magic? Why did revealing one of his most dangerous secrets suddenly feel like a good idea? Only then did he notice how much mana was swirling around him. Why did he want to reveal his secret? Fear surged through him.

He did not understand what Velyn was doing, but the mana around him was wrong, and his own thoughts no longer felt safe. Arien turned inward, reaching for the familiar currents inside his body and clinging to the one thing he knew was his. How dramatic. Velyn kept her smile in place and watched the boy wrestle with himself as if the fate of the kingdom depended on his next answer. Children were always so large inside their own skulls. She almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

He was not even five years old, yet he had spent the lesson speaking to her as though they were equals, weighing her words and testing how much she would give away. The nerve of it was almost impressive. She had caught him studying her more than once, too. Not with a child's open curiosity. He watched for what she knew, what she might reveal, and when it was safer to hide behind the blank expression of an ignorant village boy. He wanted answers from her while revealing as little as possible in return.

Or maybe it was her Skills' fault? Magnetic Presence, was extremely useful, especially after its first development. It was a passive ability that lightly influenced other people, making them kinder and more helpful toward her. After further development, it could intensify its effect, encouraging people to open up and confess things. Very useful in her Profession. But she had recently spent a lot of time in the capital, where there was a high concentration of mana, Wards, and higher-level individuals.

She might have fallen out of practice in controlling it, and for people from the distant countryside, it could be too intense. And yet, the boy wasn't that bad. She could see a hunger for knowledge in his eyes. He wasn't trying to flatter her by claiming he would also become a Scholar. After all, it wasn't his fault he grew up surrounded by idiots. The Skill pressed gently, inviting trust, confession, obedience of the softer kind. Most children would have babbled by now. Arien did not.

His face tightened, then went frighteningly still. Velyn felt the first prickle of unease. He was not trying to impress her anymore. He was trying to escape. Then something in his eyes flickered, and the boy visibly calmed down.

"It's about levels," he replied, his voice slightly hoarse. He swallowed, then raised his eyes to meet hers.

"With three bright and eager-to-learn children, you should quickly gain more levels in Teaching. Probably a useful Skill, if you ever wanted to lecture at the Academy, my lady."

"See? You really are sharp." Velyn gave him her warmest smile.

"You can go home now. We start tomorrow at eight. Don't be late." The boy stood up and quickly walked away, disappearing into the hall. A moment later, she heard the sound of a door closing. She still had to decide whether to include Arien in her report. Her superior would be furious if someone else discovered him first, but reporting a clever five-year-old on instinct alone would hardly improve her standing. Better to wait, teach him for a while, and see what remained once the novelty wore off.

If he truly was unusual, she would have something worth bringing back. He was not as sharp as he thought he was, but a five-year-old who could actively resist her rare Skill might at least make this assignment less tedious. That did not make being sent here any less insulting. She still considered the whole thing an undeserved punishment for a failure that had not even been hers. It wasn't her fault that Count Serion had suddenly decided to break a twenty-year abstinence and drink wine meant for his wife.

Levels in Teaching and a position at the Academy. Laughable. The Academy had already made its opinion of her clear. Let the old fossils keep their lecture halls. One day, she would stand above them all. And when that happened, they would remember exactly who they had thrown away.