Bate Ivo
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Chapter 36: Why the Birds Sing
🕑 Added 2025-10-28 22:30:39 +0000 UTCChapter 36: Why the Birds Sing
Emilia was walking slowly along the city streets, with all her senses open.
This was a new kind of meditation she was practicing. She was walking without a goal, focused on the sensations of her body. How the wind felt gently touching her skin. The warmth of the sun's rays, the way the sounds felt in her ears. She was trying to feel the pressure of every step with the skin of her feet.
She watched the ever-dancing motes of mana colliding with her aura, saw the faint glow of souls—people, animals, everything alive around her. Cats sprawled on rooftops, dogs begging for scraps in the market, birds cutting endless lines across the sky, rats hiding deep within the walls.
Emilia changed direction and kept walking. Time had vanished for her. The world could be felt in a thousand ways—ever-shifting, ever-flowing.
In her neighborhood, only one other woman meditated like this. Her name was Velka, and she was known for whispering to the trees. Every noon, she could be found in the small park, smiling as she watched the youngest children play.
Velka always smiled, and her pockets were always full of bird food. Emilia didn’t know why the woman spoke to trees, but she could feel the mana woven into her murmured conversations. Somehow, Velka dispersed her mana through her breath, scattering it into the air.
Emilia herself could channel mana through her stylus to carve lines onto enchanted tree bark—but that had taken her weeks of training, and those were only the simplest patterns. How much control would it take to shape mana with nothing but your voice?
She often stopped in front of the powerful formations etched into the walls of wealthy artisans’ homes and workshops. Their magic was shrouded in dense mana meshes, impossible to decipher, but Emilia didn’t want to steal anything—she simply admired the flow.
"How much must these formations cost… How much do those masters earn to afford them?" she wondered.
Still, even those were nothing compared to the formations being inscribed daily on the newly built griffin tower. There, mana streamed like a river. And the noble estates, the barracks, the fortress walls—their enchantments were so deeply layered she couldn’t even see the mana at all. Hidden from prying eyes.
She walked with steady steps, her mind and soul slowly restoring their strength. Soon, she would dive back into her talisman work, pushing herself until every drop of mana was spent.
For the past few days, she’d grown used to working with paper talismans and had finally begun experimenting with the new formulas left behind as a farewell gift from old Emir.
There were three new talismans:
Fireball.
The first true combat talisman—nearly every apprentice learned it to perfection. Who could resist the power to conjure fire in their hand?
Magic Shield.
This one created a faint barrier before the user, able to block a solid strike. If not shattered outright, it could last two or three seconds at most.
Healing Talisman.
It could mend non-fatal, surface wounds—releasing a cloud of celestial energy that closed cuts and burns, but it couldn’t cure poison, set bones, or heal internal damage.
Those who relied on it alone often died from internal bleeding. It was best used together with magical elixirs.
The problem was, these talismans were far more complex, each requiring three main glyphs to draw. Emilia’s success rate was abysmal. So she had to invest all her profits from the simpler talismans into practicing these advanced ones.
She sighed. “Just when I thought I finally had money and all my problems were solved, turns out talisman-making is a bottomless pit. No wonder masters bind their apprentices with harsh contracts and charge so much.”
Emilia waved to Velka and continued toward the library. Lately, there wasn’t much work left, and the project was nearing its end. Over the past months, she had learned a lot—especially about the history and geography of this world. There were also countless books of poetry, philosophy, dialogues, and monologues.
She spotted one of the temple helpers tending the gardens—an older woman who was always quiet. Emilia felt a little guilty; she’d often taken advantage of the woman’s silence to bombard her with questions while learning to read and write.
Just then, Sister Edda appeared.
“Emilia, come give us a hand. You’ve got twenty minutes before you start—Librarian Harman’s in a meeting with Pastor Joren, so they’ll be late.”
“Is there any news? Are they extending the project?” Emilia asked as she hurried to help weed one of the church gardens. Some weeds here were strengthened by mana and fought back stubbornly.
“You’ll find out in twenty minutes. Have your parents signed up for the spear training?”
“No, Sister Edda. We don’t have the time. My mother keeps the house, and my father’s always busy.”
“And you train instead of them. I see you growing like a bamboo tree.”
“I don’t want to grow like bamboo. It’s boring. I’m growing like a giant pine.”
“Haha! Yes, Emilia—you’ll grow tall and strong. Then you’ll sprout pinecones, and the young men from the neighborhood will hang garlands on you for the Winter Solstice festival.”
Emilia scrunched her nose.
“I don’t want anyone hanging anything on me. I’ve got at least ten years before I start worrying about boys.”
“Ah,” Sister Edda said in a mock-wise tone, “for now you run from worries—but one day they’ll be all you think about. You know the birds in the sky? Most of their songs are about love.”
“Really?”
“Yes… didn’t you know?”
“Um… I thought they just sang.”
Sister Edda bent down and ruffled the girl’s hair.
“They sing because they don’t carry our burdens. They sing because they’re free. The gods, led by Prometheus, guard that freedom and free will. We must help them, because this world isn’t perfect yet—it’s still growing and being built.”
Emilia took the chance to slip away before another sermon began.
“Isn’t that old Harman over there?”
“Where—? It’s too early… Emilia…She ran off again. I was just about to tell her the legend of the three nymphs and the hero Sodon. Oh well, next time.”
Emilia had heard that legend many times—it spoke of duty, love, betrayal, and patience. It was playful, a little wistful, and somehow comforting.
Once, the Goddess Transmigrea herself had commanded a thousand people to write such legends, and some had even been rewarded for it. But that was another story.
Soon, old Harman came out and gathered the children. He spoke at length about the importance of their project and thanked everyone for their help. Only three days remained before it would be finished—and there would be no extension.
Later in the library, while Emilia copied from the books, the children around her whispered constantly.
“Why aren’t they extending the project? Does anyone know?”
“My grandpa said…”
“Your grandpa again. He always ‘knows.’”
“Emil, stop it. We all want to know what’s going on. Clearly your grandpa doesn’t know everything. Let someone else talk.”
Emilia chuckled softly and covered her mouth. That Emil was always entertaining.
“So, as I was saying—my grandpa said the mayor called a council of the city’s influential people, and they decided to stop funding refugee development for now. Instead, they’re pouring everything into the army.”
“But why?”
“Rumor is, Titan Atlas has raised an army—twenty legions of monsters, over a hundred thousand strong. Using strange magical caverns deep in Gaea’s core, he’s sent them toward our continent. But those caverns are unpredictable—no one knows where each legion will emerge.”
“Our city can’t fight a whole legion of monsters,” Emil said in disbelief.
“Maybe not, but we could slow them down at the walls—buy time for reinforcements, or to evacuate if needed. The key is building a network of griffin towers and pegasus garrisons to support the fleet of flying ships.”
They're doing this just to pull our troops away from the northern troll front.
The whispers shifted from troll wars to lumber prices, and finally to the second shipyard that had been under construction for ten years already.
Emilia kept copying slowly, but her mind was far away. What was really happening in this world? Maybe the girl who once prayed to the Great Goddess for a peaceful life… had gotten the better deal after all.
