Set around 1200 AD

Today seemed to be a bit of a slow day for the travelling merchant - actually, it seemed recently he hadn’t encountered anyone with an eye for knick-knacks. Although all things considered, they are pretty rare. He really appreciated those kinds of people, especially those who can relate the history behind the items, their origins and the names and such. He doesn’t really know the names of his peculiar items, but this one in particular is one that forecasts the next hour’s weather. Its shape oddly mimicked a circular watch, but instead of a clock its arrows pointed to a drawn description of the sun, clouds, clouds with rain, wavy wind patterns, and so on.

“Guess I better head into town soon. Wouldn’t really wanna get wet…”

As the traveller mumbled to himself, he considered his predicament. The next town was still more than two hours away by foot according to his sketched map, and the coming weather both according to the sky and the forecaster was quite wet.

It was a bit of a shame. The morning was really nice and sunny, but it’d been sunny for the past week. Maybe it was about time some rain came by.

“Ah well. Nothing you can do about it I guess.” An unexpected voice replied out from behind a tree.

Oh, and it seems like he wasn’t alone in this clearing after all.

“I do wonder if a parasol could double as an umbrella. Perhaps this one could, seeing as it isn’t cloth. Lucky me.”

Considering this area of the vast Eastern continent was largely uninhabited and somewhat mountainous, it’s pretty rare to see other travellers pass by. Although that in itself wasn’t too odd; it was the fact that the person looked nothing akin to a traveller. I mean - who the hell carries a parasol while travelling?

“I’d say as long as it isn’t a cloth one then it should be fine. Unluckily for myself though, all I have to cover myself from the rain is a tarp…”

His forgetfulness was probably his most annoying curse. The last umbrella he owned was unfortunately trashed for some reason, so he decided to get another one. Except he hasn’t, and it’s been weeks since he reminded himself.

“Well then, care to join me under this lovely parasol?”

He couldn’t lie to himself - the offer was tempting. Well, the woman was tempting, as he couldn’t help but notice as his eyes wandered. All things considered, she was probably the most beautiful person he’s ever seen; luscious wavy hair, in all its blonde glory. A well-defined jawline. Striking eyes. While he was familiar with foreigners, they sure as hell are still rare; especially out in the middle of nowhere. But he had a certain hunch about this woman; she emanated the aura of a magician.

“That parasol is very lovely, actually. But I think I’ll pass on the offer. Wouldn’t wanna be spoiling your uh… lovely parasol…”

He tried looking away in mild embarrassment.

“Fufufu, you young ones are too easy to tease. Loosen up a little will you? I promise I won't bite.”

“To be honest, that makes it worse. And I’d rather not find out whatever lurks under that parasol… No thank you.”

She masked her mild surprise with a look of mock disappointment.

“I guess I can commend you for being an arm's length wiser than most. I sure hope you don’t mind the company, though.”

He weighed his options. On one hand, the woman could potentially spell his gruesome death. On the other hand, he’d have someone to converse with for the duration of the walk; something he’d highly appreciate after days upon days of isolated travelling. Potential death won boredom over fair and square.

“Sure, I guess. I’d be grateful for any semblance of conversation after so many days.”

“Lead the way then, young man.”

This forest was pretty dense, as expected for an alpine forest. The beaten track looks like it's seen better days; scattered branches and rotting fallen logs litter the dirt path. They would have a higher chance of being cleared away if there was more traffic, obviously.

“Young man? You barely look older than myself.”

A cheeky smile adorned his face.

She chuckled. “How very kind of you. Older women must flock to you in droves.”

“I wouldn’t know. Haven’t bothered with any for a while. Women, that is.”

Not like he ever actually gets the chance to - travelling is more than a full-time job.

“You’re a magician, right? You give off that air. I’ve encountered a few western ones, but they didn’t dress anywhere near as extravagant as you.”

She was honestly taken aback. She never thought anyone would have the courage, let alone the knowledge, to flat-out talk about anything related to magic outside of magical provinces and other magically-aligned places.

“Aren’t you brave, speaking lightly about magic like that?”

“Well, I come from the Eastern Archipelago’s largest magical province. I know a magician when I see one. I’m not one myself though. I just like collecting small little knick knacks, whether magical or not.”

“Interesting. Very interesting. I’m an eastern magician, actually. I also do hail from the Eastern Archipelago, although I haven’t been socially involved for a considerable amount of time.”

“Probably explains why I don’t recognise you. If anything, I probably wasn’t even born yet, if your definition of ‘considerable’ were to be taken into account.”

The magician idly considered the fearlessness of the man. The average human in magical provinces are very cautious around magicians as a result of the idea that they’re dangerous. This isn’t exactly misguided; magicians love to perform less than safe experiments, and they aren’t very amicable in general.

“I take it you’re well acquainted with a few then? That is peculiar, even for a resident of a magical province.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t the best example of a normal townsperson. I loved venturing into the surrounding forests and mountains, talking with a few of the sentient nature spirits. Now that I think about it actually, I was practically never home. And yes, I’m well acquainted with one in particular. She used to come by the family shop to buy things and I encountered her frequently during my outings. She was really friendly. Pretty much changed my view of magicians - not that I had any negative ones about them in the first place, mind you.”

“Have you ever held thoughts of becoming a magician?”

“Few times. I don’t know how I’d feel about it though, to be honest. I think I’d be living too long without much of anything to do. Even now, my journey across the main eastern continent and other archipelagos is almost reaching its end. I’m not ready to settle down yet, but I don’t know where to go next. Planning to head back home first and see where that takes me, I guess. How about you? What’s a uh… fair lady such as yourself doing so far away from home?”

He wouldn’t describe her reserved giggles cute - well, they were, except it carried a certain sultry undertone. He couldn’t really put his finger on it; he found it rather attractive.

“After I conclude business in the next town, I’ll be heading back to the Eastern Archipelago to rest a while. I’ve travelled the greater East in search of other magically-aligned areas for a good part of the past decade. My next destination would be the west; I’ve yet to learn the rich magical culture of the other side of the world.”

“Oh, so you are a traveller. I guess magicians don’t really need to look the part. I’d love to travel in style too, y’know.”

“I have certainly seen worse.”

“Thanks. I try.”

She thought he looked rather handsome. The glasses were a tad out of place though - perhaps oversized? It was mildly adorable, though. He stood taller than her - another rarity for people of eastern origin.

“Say, which is your hometown? Perhaps I might be familiar with it.” She perks up at him.

“I come from the town of Yakumo. It’s the capital of the magical province, so I’m sure you’d know it pretty well.”

Yakumo, huh? The name always fascinated her. The history behind the town is vast, and its name undoubtedly has one of the richer origins in the east. It’s a shame not many actually know the tales behind their towns. Yakumo in particular, was named after a verse in one of the Eastern Archipelago’s famous heavenly poems - a poem written to honour a deity slaying a great beast to save his beloved.

“Yes, I do visit Yakumo often. A handful of my… associates reside in the town. Speaking of which actually, I wonder how the current author for the Chronicles is faring these days. It has been more than a while since I’ve spoken to her.”

“Current? There hasn’t been a current incarnation for half a decade. The last one which I hope you’re referring to passed away a few months before I left for my journey.”

A wistful expression adorned her face, and she breathed an unlikely sigh.

Another harrowing reminder of the sheer difference between humans and magicians. She was particularly fond of the current - now past - incarnation of authors; much more free-spirited and inquisitively natured relative to their older incarnations. A breath of fresh air from the customary obstinate high-class.

“May she rest in peace, then.”

“Sorry about that. May she rest in peace.”

She knows very well how life continues after death; it simply does not. The average spirit of an unremarkable being will forever meander the realms after their death - although that isn’t to say there aren’t exceptions. Such as the case of the family line of the Chronicle’s authors, whose members are born to regain the memories of their past incarnations. Such is the power of a deity’s blessing. Or curse, if you look at it from his perspective.

“She’s special though, isn’t she?” He faces her inquisitively.

“How do you mean?”

“Her power, I mean. She has the ability to reincarnate every century or so, right? I don't think it’s a silver lining, but - not to be presumptive, it might be for someone like you.”

He didn’t think there was ever a need for her to ask him what he meant. Maybe the woman thought he had an opinion worth hearing?

“It’s certainly a positive thought, but I also am of similar disposition. Each of her reincarnations are a slightly different person; they merely share the same memories. Although, I’m curious as to why you would think her power isn’t a blessing. I know most would take the opportunity. As a human, of course.”

The man adjusts his drooping glasses and runs his hand gently through his hair.

“Hypothetically, if I were her and had a lover, I wouldn’t want to give them the false hope of ever seeing me again. The only conceivable way I could think of is for them to become an inhuman, but then they’d have to bear the burden of long life. If it weren’t for the fact that she doesn’t truly regain herself, then maybe it would be worth it. But love is a very strong emotion, so who knows?”

The woman smiles at him. The smile is genuinely pleasant, as if proud.

“The irony of your precedent is genuinely staggering. Not many know, but she was married to the love of her life for the first time in her millennia-long history. Her lover is now one of the few humans to experience the pain of being attached to one so transient, so fleeting. The couple approached me a decade ago, seeking advice and warning on the danger of becoming a spirit.”

Even he was surprised with himself.

“That… sure is some food for thought. Although as you are a magician, I don’t think I’d need to offer seconds. Or even hundredths.”

Her light, sultry giggles fill the forest air once again.

“Assuming a magician’s knowledge and wisdom is a fairly easy way to earn their ire, you know.”

“I’m blessed to be in your merciful presence then, oh kind magician.” He smiles back. “Well actually, I have never met a purposefully harmful supernatural being in my life. Who knew treating them like normal people would be enough for them to be amicable?”

“I certainly wouldn’t have known! What a frightening revelation for us inhumans.” It seems the giggles aren’t stopping any time soon. “Though I should warn, naivety is the most common cause of tragedy for humans.”

The warning didn’t seem to carry any weight behind it - it read similar to a caution sign on the entrance to a dense forest. He knew it was simply a formality that needed to be stated.

“My grandmother chastised me for it countless times. It lost its impact after the third or so iteration, but I used to think it contradicted what she truly believed about the relationship between humans and “non-humans”. Since she was the protector of Yakumo, we were taught a great deal about how supernaturals were only so different to us - she was friendly with many, many of them. I realised in her last moments, she only meant it as a warning to avoid becoming complacent - after all, even other humans would take advantage of others if they had the will and opportunity.”

A look of surprise covers her face. Coincidences truly can be scary.

“Ah! You must be Okizaki Rinnosuke, then. I was very well acquainted with your grandmother when I was much more active in the community, and I especially remember how proud she was of her son as he became a father. It’s amusing to think there’s a possibility I may have met you as a mere child.”

“Really? I might know you then. Grandmother always spoke about her encounters with the supernatural.”

“Zhi Ziyun. That’s the name I go by these days.”

The face he makes in thought is quite adorable, she thinks. His brows slightly scrunched, he scratches his chin in pondering.

“It doesn’t exactly ring a bell… Maybe if I ask my aunt she would know. Or look into the family archives, I’ll probably find you mentioned there.”

This time, her chuckles felt a little cheeky. Did she know something he didn’t?

“Oh, you’ll certainly find me mentioned in those archives. Mentioned regarding what, would be the interesting part you’ll have to find out for yourself.”

“I’d love to have you company for that then. Maybe you could watch my funny reaction or something.”

His attempt might have been a bit goofy, but it humoured her nonetheless.

“I gladly accept the invitation. It’s… about time I’ve paid my respects to Mizuki and the Okizaki family. I’ve been away from home for far too long.”

The woman’s expression drifts into a subtle longing. Neutral, if context were absent.

“I think it’s also time for me to visit home as well.”

There’s a part of him that wants to know what it feels like to live a longer life than normal - his opinion wouldn’t change, but would it truly be painful? Perhaps, if he didn’t reside with the short-lived then it wouldn’t be as arduous as it is? He resists the temptation of curiosity; disturbing the woman’s reverie would be a disservice to her, and his late grandmother.

They fall into a comfortable silence as the dark, dense clouds roll in overhead.

Maybe this journey isn’t as boring as he expected it to be, but he certainly didn’t expect it to be any amount introspective.