Chapter 19: The End of a Day (5)
When she asked me, “What looks tasty?” I froze.
I had no idea what any of the food here tasted like, so how was I supposed to recommend something? My mind went completely blank.
And typically, when someone asked that question, it was less about seeking advice and more about subtly prompting me to guess the one dish they already had in mind. It was like mind-reading in disguise.
“Cold food is a no. Anything with a minty scent is even worse. This section looks like it’s full of those, so there’s no need to bother with it. Let’s move on.”
“The flavor’s too mild, and I dislike overly sweet things. If it’s something savory, I might consider it.”
“The aroma passes, but anything from the sea is out. Let’s find something else.”
Thankfully, Hoyeon was very specific about her preferences.
No desserts, no seafood, nothing sweet. Preferably salty, with bold flavors.
Once I narrowed down the options, only a few choices remained.
Most of them were dishes laden with bright red oil or exuding strong scents.
As I picked them out, I couldn’t help but wonder, Is she really going to eat this? But as she piled her plate high and licked her lips in anticipation, it seemed I’d chosen well.
Still, her preferences struck me as unusual for a girl. I’d never met anyone—especially a girl—who disliked sweet or cold foods and didn’t care for desserts.
Her plate consisted almost entirely of oily, spicy-looking meats and carbohydrates.
I couldn’t help but wonder how she stayed in shape eating like that, but I figured she had her own methods.
We didn’t exchange much conversation while eating. She seemed entirely focused on her meal, while I was preoccupied organizing my thoughts.
First, about the gods. The deity she mentioned clearly wasn’t the goddess revered by the Holy Church. Her description of divine power as “twisted Magi” raised plenty of questions.
Moreover, her evasive answers when I asked about the gods suggested that her beliefs weren’t exactly acceptable on this continent.
I wasn’t sure how much she knew, but it brought to mind certain aspects of the world’s lore:
Demons and Magi.
There was the established idea that demons and their followers used Magi, that divine power suppressed Magi, and that this continent was saturated with divine energy.
Given her constant discomfort, it wasn’t unreasonable to suspect Hoyeon might use Magi or, at the very least, be connected to it.
But that felt like too big a leap.
Take Stefania, for example. She didn’t use Magi herself but instead turned her followers into Magi users and exploited them. That workaround let her avoid the adverse effects.
Her followers, on the other hand, weren’t so lucky.
They described it as feeling like inhaling scalding sand with every breath. Strong or weak, every Magi user ultimately suffered the same fate, wasting away until death.
If Hoyeon were using Magi, she wouldn’t be calmly eating right now.
Her small but steady bites, her expression softening slightly as she ate—she genuinely seemed to be enjoying her meal.
It made me wonder how someone like her could come from those parents. One spent their life waging wars of conquest, and the other wasn’t even human.
It was hard to believe Hoyeon was their child.
Honestly, if not for her parentage, I might’ve tried asking her out. I wasn’t particularly into beastkin characters, and her absence from the original story left me unsure of how to approach her, but even so…
She was stunning enough that I would’ve at least asked for her name.
As for her personality? Well, given her upbringing, it wasn’t surprising that she had certain quirks. In fact, for someone raised by those two, she was rather well-adjusted.
The way she’d shared her bread without asking questions when she found me in the tree made me wonder if she wasn’t kinder than she let on.
And her casual dismissal of people as “fools”? That was probably a product of her upbringing and status.
“What are you staring at? Is there something on my face?”
I must’ve gotten lost in my thoughts. Somewhere along the way, my mind had shifted from pondering her identity to simply observing her.
“No, nothing at all.”
“You’re a strange one.”
She gave me a look as if she’d seen it all, then went back to eating, her cheeks puffing out slightly with food.
I tried to refocus on organizing my thoughts, but watching her chew made my mind drift again.
Her eating pace slowed over time, and I could tell she’d end up leaving some food on her plate. At this rate, she’d probably only finish about half.
Even though I figured it wouldn’t be productive, my thoughts wandered again.
So, about Magi… I didn’t have the faintest idea what to make of it. Terms like “the blood of the stars” and “a power only gods can wield” sounded impressive, but they didn’t mean much to me.
I couldn’t sense anything “twisted” about mana or divine power, and Magi was no different.
The most valuable takeaway was learning that twisted Magi transformed into mana or divine power.
Losing my train of thought made it hard to pick up where I left off. Maybe it was because I’d been jolted awake earlier, or maybe I was just full and getting drowsy.
Still, realizing that Hoyeon wasn’t purely a threat was reassuring in itself.
“…I think I took a bit too much.”
I knew it. From the start, it looked like too much food.
“Shall we head back, then?”
After poking at her plate a few more times, looking somewhat regretful, she rose from her seat. I followed her back to the dormitory.
We exchanged a few trivial remarks along the way, but nothing significant.
For a fleeting moment, I entertained the idea that everything might end peacefully if I focused on Hoyeon alone. It was just a fantasy, though.
***
Later, with practiced ease, I untied my hair, straightened my clothes, and opened my journal.
Yet, I struggled to find the right words to write.
I knew what I wanted to say, but putting it into coherent sentences felt daunting.
It reminded me of my days as a writer, staring at a blank page only to end up with sentences so incomprehensible that even I couldn’t understand them later.
The reason I cared about phrasing was that this journal doubled as letters to my mother.
Still, would she even receive them from here? I didn’t doubt her abilities, but I couldn’t help feeling skeptical.
I remembered when she’d shown me two books, saying they were “one.” At the time, I couldn’t understand—two is two, and one is one. How could two books be one?
When I asked her, she’d simply smiled and brushed ink across the cover of one book. The same mark appeared on the other.
That was when I realized what she meant.
Now, far from home and surrounded by twisted Magi, I couldn’t be sure if this would still work.
I hadn’t written in my journal since arriving on this continent. It had worked during the sea crossing, so I could only hope it would still work now.
…What should I write for the opening line?
Dear Mother? Respected Mother?
I always struggled with this part. My lack of skill as a writer had frustrated me in both lives, but if I spent too much time on this, I’d pull an all-nighter for sure.
Finally, after much deliberation, I managed to write a decent opening.
“To my beloved mother.”
Once the first line was down, the rest came more easily. I wrote about what had happened so far: the state of the continent’s Magi and leylines, the mishaps during my introduction at the academy, the strange reactions from the students, and the disappointing lunch.
Iris’s sudden apology, the shelter, my interactions with Dogeon, and how surprisingly good dinner was.
It felt like a lot had happened, but it all fit on one page.
Upon rereading it, it seemed even more trivial than I’d expected.
The opposite page remained blank. I waited a little longer, hoping for some response, but nothing changed.
…It seemed even my mother had her limits here. Feeling a twinge of sadness, I climbed into bed.
The warmth of the blanket enveloped me quickly, but a corner of my heart still felt cold.
Has sleeping next to someone made me incapable of sleeping alone? That seemed absurd.
Sure, I’d grown used to sleeping with the head of the guards nearby during the journey here, but I wasn’t that dependent.
I wasn’t a child, after all.
Between my past life and this one, I’d spent over 40 years as an adult. There was no way I couldn’t sleep alone.
Why was I treating sleep like it required some solemn resolve? All I had to do was close my eyes and stay still.
Hugging my tail was absolutely not a substitute for having someone nearby.
Absolutely not.