MLMAS 05

Chapter – 05

Chapter 2: Magic and Fairy Tales

Her head was burning.
No—was it heavy?

Marie groaned softly as she tried to open her eyes. But a cool hand covered them, stopping her.

“Sleep a little longer.”

“Who…?”

Unease crept over her. She tried to push the hand away, but a sudden wave of drowsiness overwhelmed her, and she lost all strength.

Marie blinked.

The familiar cold. A narrow alley. The warmth of a body pressed tightly against hers.

She turned her head.

There stood her mother, Molly—bright golden hair like something from a fairy tale, and beautiful sea-colored eyes.

Molly fluttered her lashes rapidly, trying not to cry.

“Remember, Marie. If something terrible happens to you and Sasha and I’m not there, go to 77 B6, Lockega.”

“Lockega… B6?”

“Yes. 77 B6, Lockega. Find ‘Lynn’s Magical Antique Shop.’ Knock on the ram-shaped door knocker four times at midnight. The owner there will help you.”

Lockega, 77, B6, Lynn’s Magical Antique Shop.

Marie counted on her fingers as she repeated the words, then suddenly looked up with a question.

“Then, Mom.”

“Yes?”

“What if you disappear?”

Molly gave a weak smile.

Marie asked again, anxiety creeping into her voice.

“What if you’re gone? Isn’t that a terrible thing?”

“It’s okay.”

“Why?”

Marie grabbed Molly’s hand and spoke in a trembling murmur.

“Mom, it was so hard. After you left, I caught a cold, and we starved. We almost lost our home.”

“……”

“To avoid going hungry, I woke up before dawn and shined shoes. Even when it rained or snowed, I worked to earn money. But we have no clothes, no shoes. It’s so cold and so hard…”

Molly didn’t answer.

Crying, Marie lifted her upper body, trying to throw herself into her mother’s arms.

“Mom… When you died, weren’t we supposed to go there?”

Can’t we ask for help?

Her trembling hand reached out—

But the radiant blonde Molly vanished, leaving only pitch-black darkness in her grasp.

Marie staggered and fell forward. Her tears dropped into the void.

Ah, Mom. Don’t go.

As she lay crying, at some point she felt something soft beneath her.

Marie groaned and opened her eyes.

Through blurred vision, a pale brown ceiling—one she had never seen before—came into view.

“Unni!”

“Sasha…”

Startled, Marie looked at Sasha and then around the room. And then she realized where she was.

“…The antique shop?”

“You slept long enough.”

Thud.

Croft placed a mug on the bedside table and looked down at her with a stiff expression.

Marie jolted upright.

“Mr. Wizard!”

“Your head?”

“Huh?”

He frowned.

“I asked how your head feels. Does it still hurt?”

“N-No.”

“Your stomach?”

“A little upset.”

“Drink this.”

Afraid of worsening his mood, Marie hurriedly grabbed the mug. A thick, warm liquid sloshed inside.

She didn’t know what it was. After stealing a cautious glance at Croft, she took a small sip.

“Ugh!”

She pulled back immediately, sticking out her tongue in horror. It wasn’t bitter or sweet—like some slippery soup she couldn’t identify.

Unable to try again, she stared at the mug helplessly. Croft clicked his tongue.

“Drink it all. Otherwise, you won’t be able to get up.”

Then he muttered to himself, “Shouldn’t have added honey…”

With a miserable expression, Marie squeezed her eyes shut and gulped it down. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed.

Sasha clapped her hands.

“All done!”

“It’s awful!”

Marie shuddered and set the mug down, smacking her lips to erase the dreadful taste.

As if waiting for that moment, Croft handed her a piece of candy.

“Eat.”

“Th-Thank you.”

She cautiously licked it first, afraid it might taste strange too. But when a cool sweetness spread across her tongue, her eyes widened, and she popped it into her mouth whole.

After confirming she had taken it, Croft left the bedroom.

Marie pulled back the blanket carefully.

What is all this?

Strange cloths marked with unknown symbols lay between the wooden floor and furniture. Papers with bizarre writing hung like curtains by the window. Odd antiques that didn’t belong in a bedroom filled the space.

Everything looked fascinating.

She stepped onto the floor.

Suddenly Sasha ran out of the room, shouting:

“Crofot! Unni has no shoes!”

“Sasha!”

Flustered, Marie rushed after her. A pair of slippers flew toward her face.

“Wear those. And it’s Croft.”

“Yes! Cro… ft!”

A deep sigh drifted from somewhere nearby.

Marie, still dazed, slipped on the slippers and left the room.

The first thing she saw was a gigantic bookshelf—larger than she could ever have imagined—lining the entire wall.

Her eyes widened as she stared up at the books stacked all the way to the ceiling.

“Mariposa. Come here. I need to talk to you.”

“Ah—yes!”

Croft sat among the countless books, smoking a pipe and scribbling something on a long sheet of paper.

Aside from the towering shelves, the only furniture in what seemed to be a study was his desk and chair.

Marie hesitantly stood before him.

He glanced at her and waved his hand. A small chair appeared from somewhere and tapped the back of her knees. She flailed and dropped onto it.

“You, four-year-old. Come here too.”

“Yes!”

Sasha ran over brightly.

“Um, my sister’s name is Sasha…”

“I know.”

Marie fell silent.

Sasha, on the other hand, seemed unfazed by the blunt address and climbed onto another chair.

Marie asked what had been on her mind.

“Why was I sleeping here?”

“You weren’t sleeping. You collapsed. From magical influence… no, just a fever.”

“Unni slept three nights!”

“What? Three days?”

Marie stared at Sasha in shock.

“Then did you take care of her? What about food—”

“She was fed properly. Don’t worry. You only think about your sister, don’t you?”

Croft sighed tiredly, as if he had suffered greatly from Sasha’s energy.

Knowing her sister well, Marie forced a small smile.

“Th-Thank you so much. For finding Sasha… and for the medicine…”

She wiggled her toes inside the soft, warm slippers.

Croft studied her green eyes quietly, then turned away.

“I’ve cared for your sister because she is a wizard’s child. You already suspected that, didn’t you?”

“Ah…”

Marie looked at Sasha, who was fiddling with her hands beside her.

Unlike herself—roughly cleaned and shabby—Sasha wore a spotless blue indoor dress, her clean blonde hair tied into two low pigtails.

Marie’s green eyes darkened.

But only briefly.

She shook her head and asked:

“Then… was our mother really a wizard?”

“Yes. Wizards can only give birth to wizards.”

“But then why am I—”

Croft hesitated for a moment as he looked at her thin frame and transparent green eyes.

Then he spoke coldly.

“You and your sister must have different fathers. If even a drop of human blood is mixed in, a wizard cannot be born. You are a human child.”

Marie blinked.

She opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it.

Seeing that she didn’t seem utterly devastated, Croft tapped out his pipe.

“I thought you would have known, considering the age difference.”

“…Yes. We once lived with a man.”

Sasha’s father. So he was the wizard.

Her eyes grew distant in recollection. But she quickly regained herself.

“So Sasha is a wizard. Then… will she be kidnapped again?”

“It’s not rare. Werewolves have been rampant lately.”

Children without family were easy targets.

Marie’s face turned pale. Her clenched fists trembled.

The werewolf from the cave flashed in her mind—the thick claws, the growling voice, the flames rising at Croft’s gesture.

She squeezed her eyes shut, her breathing growing uneven.

“Mariposa. Look at me.”

“Mr. Wizard…”

“If you’re afraid, leave your sister with me. I’ll find another orphanage for you.”

“What?”

Marie’s eyes widened in shock.

Croft glanced at the paper on his desk.

“That’s why I waited for you to wake up. Mariposa, you’re too young. A child can’t raise a child. And a wizard’s child belongs in the magical world. Your sister will stay with me—”

“No!