Ch 17 Mana Stone

The thought had tormented her heart for a century. She had always violently pushed that insecurity away, but now, laying in the dirt, Kurou accepted death with a hollow heart. Instead of trying to save herself with her last remaining drop of mana, she cast one final spell.

Before I die… let me just see him one last time…

The Asterion in her dreams always smiled languidly. Kurou, who had been picked up as a baby raven, could perfectly well eat with her own talons and beak, but she loved pestering him to hand-feed her anyway.

It was a dream she had repeated thousands, no, tens of thousands of times over a hundred years.

That was why, even when the Asterion in front of her right now was placing a warm piece of steak directly into her beak, Kurou was absolutely certain.

Ah, I guess I’m still not dead yet.

The fleeting thought of ‘Could it be real?’ didn’t even dare to crawl out anymore.

After repeating the torturous cycle of hoping, waking up to nothing, and drowning in despair, she was completely worn-out.

If the dream could just continue right up until the exact moment her heart stopped beating in that dumpster, that would be enough. With that resignation, Kurou kept her eyes closed and let go of everything.

Kurou’s memories ended there.

Asterion, having felt every agonizing second of her century of grief, slowly opened his eyes.

“…Ah.”

A pained gasp slipped past Asterion’s lips.

He looked down at his lap. Kurou had her eyes squeezed tightly shut, trembling as if she couldn’t even bear to look at Asterion’s face.

“Kurou. I…”

He couldn’t even finish his sentence. Fat teardrops squeezed out from between Kurou’s closed eyelids.

“I kept hoping… I kept hoping every time.”

Her voice was tiny and broken.

“But… it’s always a dream again.”

“Kurou, I’m so sorry. This is my fault,” Asterion whispered. “There’s no way I left you behind because I thought you were useless. You were my everything. I just wanted you, at least, to live—“

At that, Kurou began to weep, her ruined wings trembling as she completely broke down.

“When you call my name like that… it makes me hope again! When are you coming back, Boss…”

Asterion’s face hardened. He bit his lower lip so hard he tasted blood.

I need to cast a calming spell on her. Erase her memories or let her sleep until she’s calmed down—

No.

That would only make things worse. What was he thinking? Magic wouldn’t fix this.

What was important right now was proving to Kurou that this was real.

He carefully reached out his fingers again. And he gently stroked Kurou’s tear-stained cheek.

“Kurou.”

Asterion persistently called the raven’s name.

At that, Kurou whipped her head away and buried her face into Asterion’s chest to hide. Watching the raven press herself flat inside his robes, Asterion whispered again.

“Kurou. Kiki? Do I have to call you Kiki for you to look at me?”

Hearing him even use her detested nickname, Kurou’s eyes twitched.

Asterion’s sleeve began to soak through. He reached down for the corners of Kurou’s eyes.

As he gently wiped the moisture from her matted feathers, Kurou habitually rubbed her head against his hand.

“…Even the hands feel the same.”

“Do you really think it’s not me? Kiki.”

After saying that, Asterion immediately scratched the back of her neck.

“Don’t call me Kiki! I’m—!”

As he gently scratched the back of her neck and under her chin, Kurou’s beak parted. A soft trill of comfort slipped out.

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“Yeah, right there… a little more. Mmm, mmhm.”

Kurou’s cheeks began to relax. As he expertly rubbed the spots that were hard for her to preen herself, a wave of familiar pleasure slowly built up, melting the tension from her tiny muscles.

“Ah, that’s nice.”

Kurou’s breathing gradually evened out.

Asterion had purposely wrapped his mana around his hand.

“Come to think of it, even the mana is incredibly comforting…” she mumbled drowsily.

Kurou was instinctively wired to feel at ease around Asterion, because he had transferred some of his mana to her.

Intoxicated by the familiar touch scratching her neck and chin, she assumed this was simply the tail end of her dying dream and tried to keep her eyes closed.

Asterion looked at Kurou and murmured softly.

“…Kurou. Why did you smash your forehead? You know I can’t heal with magic.”

Instead, Asterion gently pressed his palm over Kurou’s injured forehead.

“[Pain Transfer].”

It was a spell that entirely transferred the target’s pain to the caster. It was an incredibly inefficient spell that practical mages almost never used—one reserved strictly for the people they cherished more than themselves.

“…Ah.”

In that instant, the throbbing pain in Kurou’s head vanished like a lie.

Normally, in a dream, the moment the pain faded, her vision would blur and she’d wake up.

But this time was different.

“Ugh, you really smashed it hard. You goofball.”

A low groan slipped from Asterion’s lips.

At that sound, Kurou’s eyes snapped wide open.

Asterion in her dreams never felt pain. He was always just a perfect, untouchable illusion. But the man right in front of her right now was shouldering the pain of her own stupid actions and wincing.

On top of that, she felt the unmistakable texture of the mana flowing through his palm. It was a pure, rich mana no one else in the world could mimic.

“You’re… you’re hurting?”

Kurou’s voice shook.