Chapter 5 The great sage

The cool night air was crisp but gentle, and above them stretched a tapestry of stars, countless and dazzling. A radiant full moon hung high in the velvety sky, casting a soft glow over the streets. It was the kind of night that felt otherworldly, almost magical.

Luna glanced around as she walked alongside Isaiah. The streets were alive with activity, far more vibrant than she had expected. Laughter and music spilled out from bars and clubs lining the narrow cobblestone road. People leaned out of windows, their cheerful voices mingling with the clink of mugs and the strum of string instruments. Even though she was far from home, the liveliness of this place made her feel a bit less like a wanderer.

Isaiah's voice broke through her thoughts. "It's really lively here at night," he said, tilting his head up as if trying to absorb the atmosphere.

"Yeah, it is," Luna agreed softly, her eyes flitting from one glowing storefront to another. Despite their predicament, the sight was reassuring.

They were looking to see if there was something open where they could stay the night without money, and it looked like these clubs maybe it. 

The bar where they had been staying earlier had closed its doors.

The sun rises here early, way earlier than on the Western continent so they wouldn't have to stay too long. 

Before long, they found themselves seated in a cozy little bar that had drawn Luna's attention with its warm glow and steady hum of chatter. Inside, the atmosphere was far more inviting than she'd expected. Wooden furniture filled the rustic space, the tables and chairs slightly worn but sturdy. Stone walls, adorned with flickering torches, gave the room a medieval charm. Rows of wooden barrels lined the back of the bar, alongside shelves stacked with drinking cups and plates. The scent of roasted meats and freshly baked bread wafted through the air.

It's nice here… too nice for us to be sitting in without a single coin.

Luna glanced nervously at Isaiah, who seemed unbothered by the thought. He leaned back slightly in his chair, his usual calm demeanor a stark contrast to her own unease. Her gaze darted to the waitress approaching them—a young woman with a kind smile and a tray balanced on her hip.

"What can I get you?" the waitress asked, her voice cheerful but slightly tired.

Luna hesitated. What do I say? That we're broke?

"Ah," Isaiah started, glancing at Luna for a moment before turning back to the waitress. "Actually, we don't have any money." His tone was casual, as though he were simply stating a minor inconvenience.

Luna winced inwardly, her cheeks flushing slightly. But to her surprise, the waitress's smile didn't falter.

"No money, huh? Well, water's free. Want some?"

"Yes, please," Luna blurted out, her voice more eager than she intended. She quickly added, "Thank you so much."

The waitress nodded, disappearing behind the bar and returning moments later with two wooden cups filled to the brim. As Luna wrapped her hands around the cup, the cool surface grounding her, she let out a soft sigh of relief.

This place is kinder than I thought.

She took a sip of the water, letting the cool liquid soothe her dry throat. Her eyes wandered over the room, lingering on the other patrons. Groups of friends were laughing, couples sat close together, and a lone traveler near the bar was nursing a mug of ale with a weary look.

Despite the lively atmosphere, Luna felt a sense of calm. It wasn't exactly home, but for now, it was enough.

A Drunken Encounter

"Fwahaha! Fwahahaha! You guys are only here for some water? Fwahaha!"

The high-pitched, cackling laughter rang out behind us, cutting through the hum of the bar like a sharp blade. I stiffened and turned around slowly, unsure of what to expect. What I saw was… unexpected, to say the least.

Seated at a table behind us was a figure cloaked in dark, threadbare clothing. At first glance, they looked like a small, frail person—someone down on their luck. Their hood was pulled low, but the way they sat hunched over the table gave them an almost mischievous air. The smell of alcohol wafted from them in waves, strong enough to make my nose wrinkle even from this distance. They had clearly been here for quite a while, and judging by the empty mugs littering their table, they were probably in no state to be making jokes—or standing, for that matter.

Isaiah was the first to speak. "Do you like some water?" he asked, his tone calm and even, as though addressing the most respectable of patrons. He spoke in the Gaia language, a tongue I could barely follow, let alone understand.

The figure slammed a hand on the table, nearly knocking over one of the empty mugs. "Don't think you can order me around without showing any respect!" they barked, their voice slurred and uneven.

I blinked in surprise as the cloaked figure rose unsteadily from their seat. Their movements were erratic, almost cartoonish, as they swayed side to side like a sailboat caught in a storm. I could see their hood shift slightly, and for a brief moment, I caught a glimpse of dreamy, half-lidded eyes. It was clear—this person was absolutely, undeniably drunk.

Isaiah's expression shifted, a look of mild concern spreading across his face. "Hey, sir or madam," he began, his voice gentle but firm, still speaking in Gaia. "You should go home. It's late, and…" He hesitated for a moment before finishing, "…you need a shower."

I tilted my head, watching the interaction unfold. I had no idea what they were saying, but Isaiah's tone told me enough. He was trying to help this person, despite their erratic behavior.

I really should ask Isaiah to teach me Gaia someday, I thought with a sigh. Not knowing what's happening is frustrating. Maybe once we can afford a proper inn, I'll start learning… if we ever manage to save up for that.

The cloaked figure took a stumbling step forward, and before I could react, they collapsed onto the ground in a heap.

"Ah!" I gasped, half-rising from my seat. But Isaiah was faster. He stood immediately and crouched down to help the stranger back to their feet.

"Where is your home?" Isaiah asked, his tone still calm but now tinged with urgency. He gently steadied the figure, one hand on their arm to keep them upright. "We can take you there if you want."

The stranger mumbled something in response, their words barely coherent. Isaiah turned to me, his gaze meeting mine. "Come, we need to bring her to her home," he said, switching to Deity so I could understand.

I hesitated, the words sinking in. "No," I muttered under my breath, feeling a pang of resistance rise within me. I didn't want to get involved in something like this. We didn't even know this person. Couldn't we just leave them here and let the bar staff deal with it?

But then I remembered something someone once told me: You can't move on from the past if you keep dwelling in it.

I closed my eyes for a brief moment, letting out a quiet sigh. Isaiah was right. We couldn't just leave them here, no matter how much I wanted to. This wasn't about convenience—it was about doing the right thing.

"Fine," I said finally, nodding at Isaiah. "Let's help them."

The figure leaned heavily against Isaiah, muttering something incoherent as we started toward the door. My stomach churned uneasily as we stepped back out into the cool night air, the streets still alive with the sounds of laughter and music.

This is going to be a long night, I thought, glancing up at the moon. But as I followed Isaiah and the stranger, I couldn't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, we were doing something good.

Part 2

The walk to the stranger's home was uncomfortable, to say the least. Isaiah held her hand to steady her as we trudged along the uneven path, the moonlight barely illuminating our way. The air smelled faintly of damp earth and moss, a scent that only grew stronger as we approached what could generously be called a "hut."

I couldn't help but scan our surroundings, my senses on high alert. My fingers itched with readiness to cast a spell at the first sign of danger. For all I knew, this entire scenario could've been a trap. Drunken stranger or not, the world wasn't kind to wanderers like us. But Isaiah seemed utterly unconcerned, guiding her forward as though this were a routine act of charity.

When we finally reached the hut, I had to fight the urge to grimace. The structure was in such bad shape that calling it a "house" felt insulting to the word. It was a haphazard assembly of wood and bricks, with moss and vegetation growing freely across the walls. The entrance wasn't even a proper door—just a torn cloth hanging limply in place. To the side, there was something that might've been a broken barrel or farming tool, but honestly, it was hard to tell.

As I scanned the hut, the cloaked stranger suddenly broke into laughter.

"Fwahaha! Fwahaha!"

I tensed, my fingers instinctively curling to summon a defensive spell, but Isaiah held up a hand to stop me. Before I could process what was happening, the cloaked figure leapt onto the roof of the hut with surprising agility. My eyes widened as the person threw back their hood, revealing not a frail drunkard but a girl who couldn't have been older than fifteen.

She had voluminous, wavy blue hair that shimmered faintly in the moonlight, cascading past her shoulders like a waterfall. Her outfit, if it could even be called that, was made of leather and left little to the imagination—knee-high boots, short pants, and a cropped top that exposed her pale, slender frame. She was all sharp angles and narrow limbs, her youthful features contrasting starkly with the loud confidence in her voice.

"Fwahaha! My name is Kiruaki Kiriari, the Great Sage!" she declared proudly in the Deity language, her voice carrying through the quiet night. "You have saved me from that horrible prison!"

Isaiah and I exchanged baffled looks. Wait… she speaks Deity? And fluently?

There were too many questions rushing through my mind. Was she faking being drunk? How old was she? Did she live here, in this makeshift hovel? And "Great Sage"? Who just announces themselves like that?

"Because you freed me," Kiruaki Kiriari continued, puffing out her chest with pride, "I will grant you one wish! Ask for anything your heart desires!" She paused dramatically, then added, "But only for one of you, not both."

"Crack… Crack…"

Before I could even process what she'd said, the roof beneath her feet gave way with an ominous groan.

"Uh!?"

The entire hut collapsed in a heap of splintered wood and dust, and Kiruaki Kiriari vanished beneath the rubble. I froze, the silence stretching unbearably long. Was she even alive under there?

And then, from the wreckage, her voice rang out again, muffled but still loud: "Fwahaha! Name every wish you desire! Cough… cough…"

I blinked, utterly dumbfounded, while Isaiah's face lit up with excitement.

"I wish for all the money in the world!" he exclaimed, his voice brimming with hope.

Kiruaki Kiriari's reply came immediately. "I'm sorry, but I'm broke!"

What did he expect?

Isaiah frowned, undeterred. "Then I wish for all the power in the world!"

"I'm powerless!"

"How about all the knowledge in the world?"

"All my knowledge has been stolen from me. Fwahaha!"

By this point, I was seriously reconsidering all of my life choices that had led to this moment. My expression must've screamed boredom, because Isaiah finally stopped asking after what felt like an eternity. The sun was already peeking over the horizon, painting the sky in soft hues of orange and pink.

Isaiah looked utterly defeated. "Can you even fulfill any wishes?"

Kiruaki Kiriari climbed out of the rubble, brushing dirt off her clothes. She grinned brightly and said, "Fwahaha! No! Not anymore!"

I groaned inwardly. Of course not.

"But!" she continued, stepping closer to us, "I can give you some advice!"

Isaiah raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Oh, jeej," he said sarcastically.

Kiruaki ignored him completely, leaning in conspiratorially. "Listen closely, my henchman," she said, her tone as grand as ever. "Go and do the 'Trouble on the Road' quest, and you'll find great fortune! Fwahaha!"

I looked at Isaiah, silently pleading for us to leave. This was too much.

"It was a great honor to meet you, Great Sage," Isaiah said, his tone polite but tinged with exhaustion. "But I'm afraid we need to go."

"Fwahaha! Of course, of course! You commoners must be terribly tired," Kiruaki said with a yawn.

As I passed her, she suddenly leaned close and whispered something into my ear. Her voice was low and serious, a stark contrast to her earlier antics.

I froze, my breath hitching as her words settled in my mind. When I turned to look at her, she pressed a finger to her lips and smiled mischievously.

"Shhh…"

Even as Isaiah and I walked away, her warning echoed in my mind. The "Great Sage" might've been eccentric—borderline ridiculous—but there was something about her words that sent a chill down my spine.