Chapter 0 - Prologue

A gentle breeze always blew over Hisaril Hill—a wind that began in the impossibly high mountains to the west and swept downhill through the short, stiff weeds.

Of all his tasks, Turan the shepherd liked watching his flock best, lying in a sunny field with that breeze washing over him. No, it would be more accurate to say he disliked it least. It was simply easier than shearing sheep or cleaning their pen; he had never enjoyed it.

In truth, his greatest enemy was not hard labor, but boredom. Day after day, he woke to the same scenery, did the same work in the same buildings, and went to sleep at the same hour. Sometimes he feared he might even forget how to speak, and made a game of talking to himself and answering his own questions.

When the solitude grew unbearable, or when he needed to barter for a few essentials, he would go down to the little village below the hill. But that was hardly pleasant either, because every villager disliked him. Of course, the feeling was mutual.

“The sun hasn't even begun to set, and a young fellow like you is already slacking off?”

It was late afternoon. Turan lay in the sunny field watching his sheep as usual when a shadow fell over him. It belonged to Rabus, one of the elders of the village below. Rather than rise to greet him, Turan scowled and answered curtly.

“Move, old man. You're blocking the sun.”

Turan disliked all the villagers, but he loathed this old man in particular. Five years ago, when Turan's mother died, Rabus had offered to manage his property, then tried to quietly make all the sheep on the hill communal village property. As a result, Turan had been forced to fight something close to a war with the villagers to get his sheep back.

Rabus's face hardened at the curt response, but he soon gritted his teeth and calmed himself. What good would losing his temper do, anyway? If it came to blows, he would plainly be the one heading back down with a broken nose.

“Rob spotted a magic beast at the entrance to the village last night. A leopard as big as a house, he said, covered all over in pitch-black shadows.”

Magic beasts were animals that had awakened to the power of magic. They were larger and cleverer than ordinary animals and wielded all manner of mysterious powers. There were differences between individuals even within the same species, but generally, the stronger an animal was before it changed, the more dangerous a magic beast it became. A leopard magic beast was more than ordinary people could hope to handle.

“Oh dear.”

“Aren't you frightened? You're the likeliest person around here for it to go after.”

“I am. Terrified.”

Despite his words, there was no sign of unease on Turan's face. Rabus found his attitude utterly incomprehensible. What sort of nerve did he have, to take news of a dangerous magic beast like that? He didn't even live behind a fence like the villagers did.

“Anyway, the village chief has gone to the city to ask a mage to come kill it, so be careful. And don't take the sheep too far afield if you can help it.”

Of course, he had not come to warn Turan out of concern for him. As far as he was concerned, the beast was welcome to carry the wretched shepherd off. But Turan's sheep were an important source of food, material for warm clothing, and exports for the village.

Turan's death would mean losing all of that. A magic beast was hardly going to accommodate human interests by killing only the shepherd and leaving his flock alone. Suspecting these motives, Turan felt not the slightest gratitude and answered with all the sarcasm he could muster.

“I'm simply overwhelmed by your concern. If you're done talking, piss off. Your breath is going to rot my nose off.”

As Rabus went grumbling down the hill, Turan sank into thought, turning over what the old man had just said.

'A mage...'

Just as beasts that wielded mysterious powers were called magic beasts, humans who wielded such powers were called mages. They were also known as nobles or knights. Just as magic beasts became leaders of their own kind, mages reigned at the very top of human society.

'I wonder how strong they'll be.'

Anyone willing to come at the summons of a village chief from a backwater like this was probably nothing special as mages went. Still, he wanted to meet one, even a mage like that. Since getting close might be dangerous, he would settle for stealing a look from a safe distance.

He had been lost in thought for some time when a faint scent caught his attention.

'Blood?'

Fresh blood, too, as though it had been spilled only recently. Taking the staff propped beside him, he followed his nose and soon reached the source of the smell. He clicked his tongue softly.

'Told me to be careful, and now he's gone and died first.'

Rabus's corpse lay torn to shreds and scattered about like red flowers in full bloom. Judging by the clear claw marks all over his body, whatever had attacked him was certainly not human.

“Was it you?”

[GRRRR...]

As Turan turned and asked the question, shadows surged from the shade beneath a tree and gathered into the shape of a beast. An enormous leopard, at least two meters tall at the shoulder and big enough to make short work of a bear...

Turan looked it straight in the face and declared,

“Die.”

At that instant, a flash of lightning sparked over the leopard's head. Startled, it leaped backward, then roared and lunged at Turan, apparently enraged by the provocation.

“That doesn't work... Stop.”

At his second command, the leopard's body jerked and seemed to stop, but once again, lightning sparked in less than a second and it was free to move. Perhaps realizing that the frail prey before it was up to some strange trick, the leopard wasted no more time and lashed out with a forepaw. The blow was so powerful and swift that an ordinary person could easily have been killed without even a chance to react.

But instead of tearing its prey apart in an instant as it had expected, its sharp claws cut uselessly through empty air. In the brief instant it had faltered, Turan had retreated with an unnatural burst of speed of his own.

“I knew killing you wouldn't work, but I can't even make you stop...”

Nodding as though he had learned something new, Turan took a sling and a stone ground into a ball from his pocket and loaded it. Then he swung it around a couple of times and recited an incantation.

“Grow hard, grow swift, pierce. Aim for the head.”

It was an utterly straightforward, simple incantation—almost comical. As he spoke, he released one cord, and the freed stone hurtled toward the magic beast with a deafening roar as it tore through the air. The beast's instincts screamed a warning: its tough hide would be no use against that attack.

[RAAOW!]

It twisted with a shriek of alarm, and the stone that should have struck home barely grazed its ear. But before it could feel any relief, the stone that should have flown off into the distance curved around in a wide arc, as though someone were steering it. It drove into the back of the beast's head and burst out between its eyes. With its skull and brain crushed, the leopard magic beast died on the spot without so much as a final cry.

“Tsk.”

Turan clicked his tongue at the thought that all he had done was those bastards in the village a favor, then caught the dead beast by the tail and dragged it away. Several ordinary men would have had to work together to lift its enormous body, yet he hauled it along as easily as a dead dog.

'Maybe I'll dump it in a ravine somewhere.'

The insects and animals would take care of the remains. It was hardly a thorough way to dispose of the body, but that didn't matter. The cowards in the village would never dare follow the magic beast's tracks, and by the time the mage hired by the chief arrived a few days later, nothing would be left.

No one would discover that a mere shepherd living on Hisaril Hill, at the western edge of the world, was a mage.