Chương 53: Ugh, Whatever

The inner courtyard of the palace was enclosed by walls on every side. The reception-room door Kichan had come through was behind him. Across the wide stone yard ahead, soldiers were forming a semicircle. Ren stood to his left, the queen's confidant was behind him to the right, and the Tower Master's people had gathered in the shade at the far end of the courtyard. Doors leading into the courtyard opened, and armored men formed ranks. Some carried nets. Others held sealing orbs.

Members of the Imperial Palace Magic Institute stood in the rear. The queen's confidant watched silently from one side, and the temple people remained farther away. As Kichan looked at them, he thought of the Tower Master. The dead light at his fingertips. The falling characters. The magic formula that had failed to produce anything. It all remained in Kichan's head. He asked quietly,"That man." Ren looked at him. His face was stiff, his lips parted without finding an answer.

"He can't use mana anymore, can he?" Ren could not answer. His gaze flickered toward the door through which the Tower Master had disappeared. Kichan looked at his own hand. There was nothing in his palm. No blood. No wound. Yet his fingertips remained cold.

"Did I do that?" Again, Ren could not answer. His fingers moved toward the place inside his clothes where the coin purse rested, then stopped. The soldiers closed in by one step. A man in the front rank tightened his grip on his net, fear plain on his face. Kichan stepped back.

"Don't come any closer." This time, the soldiers hesitated before Ren could translate. They did not understand the words, but they could see his face. They were afraid of Kichan. Even so, the orders were behind them. One of the soldiers raised his net. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. The inside of Kichan's throat grew hot. No. Not again. Something was trying to come out. Kichan gritted his teeth and pressed a hand to his throat.

The fragment inside his clothes burned hot, and the back of his head rang.

"Ah." A breath escaped him. A soldier carrying a sealing orb came closer. Kichan closed his eyes.

"Ugh, whatever." The words did not break apart. They became a song. At first, it sounded like breath. Then it rang thinly, like a wet finger circling the rim of a glass. A moment later, a melody clearer than any human voice filled the courtyard. Everyone stopped. The nets, the sealing orbs, the recording boards—nothing moved. Somewhere, a white owl spread its wings. Kichan felt his back grow hot. Light opened behind him. Someone caught their breath.

For a moment, all calculation vanished from the queen's confidant's face. When a faint ring of light appeared above Kichan's head, someone dropped to their knees. Ren reached out.

"Kichan!" Kichan heard him. Then his feet left the ground.

"Huh?" Something large moved behind his back. Wind burst across the courtyard. The soldiers' nets flipped over, and one sealing orb rolled across the stones. The water droplet spread like a shield before Kichan, then scattered into smaller drops as the light swept through it. Dust flattened itself against his shoulder. Everyone looked up. Kichan looked down. The ground was moving away.

"Wait." His voice disappeared into the song. A soldier on the wall shouted,"An angel!" The word crossed the courtyard. Someone else repeated it. Another person dropped a recording board. The queen's confidant froze with the jewelry still clenched in her hand. The people from the Imperial Palace Magic Institute looked between the Tower Master's side and the sky. The temple people could not decide whether to kneel or give chase. Kichan had no idea where he was going.

He only wanted to get away—from the crowd, from the hands reaching for him, from the eyes demanding to know what he had done. The wings moved again. The city sank beneath him. The song lingered, thin and clear. Kichan gritted his teeth and muttered,"Stop." The wings did not listen. He crossed the city wall. Roads vanished beneath him, fields passed, and a forest rose ahead. The wind brought tears to his eyes. He could barely keep them open. Then all the strength left him at once. His body dropped. Branches snapped.

The smell of earth struck his face. Kichan rolled across the wet ground. For a while, he heard nothing. No city. No people. No song. He lay facedown and breathed. He felt along his back, but there were no wings. He reached above his head as well. Nothing. Dust fell from his shoulder and rolled beside him. The water droplet popped out at the end of his sleeve. It was a long time before Kichan spoke. His voice was hoarse.

"Did I... fly?"