Amon was a boy who had never once left home; he hardly knew what to do with himself on his own. And now the Old Madman was telling him to take a cat along! A cat wasn't like a dog, obedient to its master—and a cat wasn't something you could simply take with you just because you wanted to. Somewhat troubled, he asked, "Why are you making me take Schrödinger? Will it even come with me?"
The Old Madman's next words gave Amon another start—
"Schrödinger has been with me for thirty years. Apart from that message divine art Bel sealed onto it, I have never heard it make a single sound, and it hasn't changed in the slightest—I've never once managed to hold it. Yet it never left; it has stayed in Duke Town all along. Just now it suddenly followed me here. Perhaps it has been waiting for this day. Amon, this is no ordinary cat. Schrödinger may become your guide. Its origins are far from ordinary, and I have never told you about them."
Amon asked in astonishment, "What are its origins? What else have you not told me?" This cat was simply unbelievable. Never mind anything else—the mere fact that it hadn't changed in thirty years and had never once meowed was already far beyond ordinary understanding.
But the Old Madman did not answer. Instead he asked another question: "Do you know where it is you're going?"
Amon looked at the two certification documents he had just been handed and said, "Isn't it the Eju Empire? You must be the one who had the town chief give me these. With them I can cross the desert to Eju."
The Old Madman shook his head. "No. Those are for your future. And my having the town chief announce that decree in public wasn't entirely an excuse—I truly do want you to go and look for Bel's whereabouts. Think it over carefully: who in this world is most likely to find the place where Bel last appeared?"
Amon pointed at the cat on the ground. "Schrödinger, of course! But you haven't been able to make it lead you anywhere in all these years—how could I manage it? It's probably forgotten long ago. ... Whatever else you have to tell me and haven't, it's come to this, so please tell me all of it at once."
The Old Madman glanced at Schrödinger too. "Then I'll tell you everything. Back then Bel took more than the holy maiden Congni and the Tears of the Gods from the Isis Temple. From secret information I've gathered over the years, he also stole a sacred relic and a cat. The Isis Temple once issued a secret order to recover both. Only the high priests of Eju know of it.
"A secret recovery of a sacred relic is normal enough—the Isis Temple would hardly want word of the loss made public. But why hunt for a cat? And why would Bel take a cat away at all? There must be something remarkable in it, something worth digging into. Bel never told me, but my guess is that cat is Schrödinger. Yet in thirty years I have never solved the riddle, and Schrödinger has never paid me the least attention.
"To be frank with you, over the years I have tried many times to find Bel through Schrödinger, and never once succeeded. This cat seems to like you. I've seen you hold it, and that is the most astonishing thing to me in thirty years.
"Next you are to cultivate second-rank divine arts, and the trial ahead of you is 'steadfastness of belief.' That is as far as I have explored the secrets of the gods. Child, this road is hard—that is also why I won't let you call me teacher. The path you must walk is not one I can guide you along.
Bel plainly understood far more. Finding Bel's whereabouts is the first step to unlocking the secrets of the gods. How the road goes after that—surely he left word behind! Leave Duke Town and go look for Bel. With Schrödinger along, you may well succeed. Don't be afraid: with what you've achieved now, you can cross these deep mountains and deal with ordinary wild beasts or the cave-dwelling wild folk. And I hope you will never regret it.
The Old Madman had spoken a long stretch; he reached out and patted Amon on the shoulder. Amon lowered his head and said, "I'm not afraid, and I won't regret it."
The Old Madman let out a long sigh that sounded almost like relief. "Child, I was right about you after all. Now try whether you can take Schrödinger with you. If you can, there is hope of finding where Bel went."
How am I supposed to take it? The Old Madman stepped aside. Amon walked a few steps forward, turned back and called, "Kitty, kitty, come with me. ... Schrödinger! Come on, let's go. ... Good kitty, come along."
Amon called and called. Schrödinger did deign to acknowledge him, but only turned around and settled itself down again, looking thoroughly haughty, and stretched out one front paw to point at Amon—exactly the manner of some noble lord summoning a servant to help him along. This dirty, lazy, gluttonous, fat cat certainly put on airs.
Amon blinked, then went over and picked Schrödinger up. Schrödinger yawned, curled itself into a ball, and actually fell asleep! The Old Madman smiled wryly too, and quietly pointed at the big leather satchel slung across Amon's chest. He couldn't very well carry a cat in his arms over the mountains. Amon gently tucked Schrödinger into the satchel; the empty space held it exactly, and the opening at the top would keep the cat from smothering.
"Amon, I have a last thing to say. You must remember it firmly, and you must do exactly as I tell you. Don't be in a hurry to go looking for Bel's whereabouts. Walk east from here, and however hard the going, do not turn back. Three days from now, look all around you, then climb the highest peak within sight, and from then on go only upward.
"When the third layer of cloud lies beneath your feet as well, find a place and cultivate your divine arts properly—most important, water elemental divine arts and air elemental divine arts. Use Deep Blue Water Heart and Windcharm Dance: set them both into your staff, then set in the other two standard godstones and use them all together.
"You have already mastered low-tier water elemental divine arts with great skill, and with Windcharm Dance, learning air elemental divine arts will not be difficult. But ordinary divine artists tend to pride themselves on the marvel of power, forgetting how tiny their own divine arts are beside the might of the elements in nature.
"So in cultivating these two divine arts, do not chase after how high-tier they are. Pay attention instead to how to resist the workings of the natural elements, how to use them, and how to protect yourself. If you can control a single drop of water, then you must learn how to keep that drop from being smashed apart in a river. Learn this, and you will already be an outstanding mage, and your second-rank combat arts will reach their peak too.
"Whether or not you manage it, for the time being do not leave that mountain summit. Watch the clouds in the west. When the dark clouds gather thick and will not scatter, find somewhere to hide and do not let the thunder from on high strike you. Wait until the gathered clouds disperse and the thunder no longer sounds, and then take Schrödinger to look for Bel's whereabouts.
These things you must remember!"
The Old Madman's last words seemed to come from midair. Amon looked up in astonishment, and only then saw that the Old Madman had already soared away, his figure brushing past the treetops like some huge strange bird. After he vanished, a voice still drifted from somewhere unseen: "Amon, if you can't find Bel, kill that cat and eat it. From here on, everything depends on you."
Alone, Amon made his way through the towering mountains, heading east. There was no path underfoot anymore; he picked the easiest going he could, the heavy refined-iron branch staff in his left hand and the knife the town chief had given him in his right, cutting a way through brambles and brush. In terrain like this he could not go fast; the mountains grew steeper and more perilous, the land more tangled, and the ravines cut between the tall peaks deeper and deeper.
Without extraordinary stamina and quick reflexes, he could never have gotten far here. Now and then in the dense forest he could make out faint trails, most likely trodden out by the cave-dwelling wild folk. Amon still wasn't sure how capable he was, so he wanted no confrontation, and carefully avoided them.
He soon understood why the Old Madman had taught him water element magic first: a person can go days without food, but scarcely a single day without water. Toward evening Amon found a dry crevice in the rock to rest in—once it was dark there was no walking these mountain paths. He cleared the ground around him and lit a campfire to cook something, and only then remembered that there was no water, and that he had brought no waterskin.
Water seemed to be close by: down the slope from where he stood, he could hear the faint sound of running water in a deep ravine, but there was no path to get to it at all. Amon could not fly; naturally he could not drift down to draw water from some mountain stream below a cliff—and the air currents over a deep ravine were so complex that even birds dared not fly there freely. Fortunately, he could summon the water element and gather the water out of his surroundings to drink—convenient and clean.
He meant to take out the small pot and the specially made beef floss he had packed, and when he opened the pack he heard Schrödinger give a belch and crawl out lazily, reeking of fragrant wine. Amon had brought no water, but he had brought a bottle of wine—his father had given it to him on purpose. The wine the merchants shipped to Duke Town was mostly good; even the commonest cost a silver coin a bottle, and his father generally bought it by the cask.
This bottle, though, was worth fifteen silver coins, in a fine copper bottle—the best wine in Amon's house. In truth, anywhere on the continent, it would count as a fine vintage. Amon found that the stopper had been opened at some point: Schrödinger had drunk it down to the last drop. Keeping this cat around was a costly luxury!
Schrödinger, however, looked lazy and not in the least ashamed. Did it not know it had just drunk fifteen silver coins' worth of fine wine in one go? Amon could hardly quarrel with a cat. He worked a divine art to condense a pot of pure clear water out of thin air and put the Old Madman's specially made beef floss into it. The beef dissolved in the boiling water, giving off a rich, tempting aroma, just like fresh beef broth—even the seasoning was already in it.
Amon took out a spoon, ladled up some beef broth, blew it cool and drank it sip by sip. So good! Only now did he feel that a day's mountain walking, though not exactly draining, had left him truly hungry. He had taken only a few sips when he saw Schrödinger saunter over, sit down across the fire, raise a front paw and point at the thicket on the left.
Amon sensed movement over there too, but Schrödinger had clearly noticed the anomaly before he did—perhaps that was an animal's instinct. Yet this cat did not look like any "wild" beast, and still its sense of its surroundings was so keen that even Amon could not match it.
Amon was always composed. Though a little flustered and a little afraid inside, he showed nothing and gave his "branch" a light wave. A fine mist rose at once, condensed into piercing ice crystals and flew into the thicket; then something was heard rolling and crashing through several bushes and fleeing at speed.
Amon only caught sight of a long tail flicking among the bushes: a big black-bellied python of the forest. Perhaps this rock crevice was its den, or perhaps the beef broth and the campfire had drawn it over. Pythons dread cold above all—it makes their bodies stiff and their movements sluggish—and the offhand burst of piercing ice crystals Amon had unleashed had frightened it away.
His staff was set with Deep Blue Water Heart, which was why Amon's divine arts came so easily to hand. He had startled himself too, and said to Schrödinger with lingering fear, "Thank you for warning me!"
The scene looked a little funny: a fat cat sitting there with great dignity, and the man across from it speaking to it in perfect seriousness. Amon had been silent too long, and there was simply no one else to talk to. Whether or not Schrödinger understood, it jabbed that paw forward again, its expression haughty and rather reserved, and it was plainly pointing at the pot of beef broth.
Judging by the cat's expression, if it could speak, it would clearly be saying in a tone of command: "Hey, kid! Give me a bowl of that."
Amon nearly burst out laughing at it, and felt less afraid than before. He knew perfectly well that Schrödinger was a marvelous cat, but a cat putting on such an act was simply too comical. He couldn't help wanting to laugh, and waved his spoon at Schrödinger. "I've only got the one spoon. Let me eat my fill first—then you can have the whole pot."
Schrödinger's tail suddenly shot up and slapped the ground once, as if greatly displeased. Then it twisted its body and actually walked off, plodding over to the pack, where it lay down with its eyes open, panting—not sleeping.
Amon was honest and simple-hearted. He had eaten only half the pot of beef broth; when the remaining half had cooled enough not to scald, he carried it over in front of Schrödinger and said softly, "Kitty, you must be hungry. Come on, eat up!"
But Schrödinger turned its head away and shut its eyes, as if it didn't even want to look at it. Since the cat wouldn't eat and Amon wasn't quite full himself, this half pot of beef broth mustn't go to waste—so he ate it all. Afterward he waved his staff, and a sheet of clear water mist swept over and then flew off as cloudy spray, and the pot was clean.
Schrödinger opened its eyes and glanced over at him, seeming a little surprised and rather as if mocking him. If any other divine artist had seen Amon use such exquisite water elemental divine arts merely to wash a pot, he would have been astonished—furious enough to spit blood, even. That was work for lowly servants; how could a noble divine artist be permitted to use sacred divine arts for it?
And besides, the power of divine arts was not meant to be used this way—squandered on such a pointless business in this perilous place!
Schrödinger wouldn't eat, and there was nothing Amon could do about it. He gathered dry soft grass and spread it on the ground, sat down cross-legged with the refined-iron branch in his hands, closed his eyes and began to concentrate on the air elemental divine arts the Old Madman had taught him. He had just finished meditating the simplest air elemental summoning mantra through in his mind, and had not even tried it yet, when he heard an indignant meow.
It was Schrödinger's voice. This cat that had not made a sound in thirty years had actually meowed today, and it sounded a little like a low growl. Amon, in the middle of practicing his divine arts, was pulled out of his meditation; he turned and looked, and saw Schrödinger lying on the ground with its head resting on its two front paws, its head turned, staring back at him. Schrödinger's look was very strange, and it reminded Amon of the way the town chief stood before the temple, gazing at all the townsfolk.
What does Schrödinger want? A moment ago it had plainly wanted to eat, but when Amon held the food right in front of it, it wouldn't eat; and then when Amon finished the whole pot of beef broth, it was unhappy again. There was nothing else to do anyway, so Amon sat there studying the cat, and suddenly recalled an unforgettable experience.
During the three days he had served as Aikou-Maria's servant, the food he ate had been the best of his life. But it always came after Aikou-Maria finished eating and said, "Amon, you may have these as a reward," and then Amon carried the table downstairs into the kitchen to eat. Plenty was prepared for Aikou-Maria anyway; she could finish a small part of it at most. And Aikou-Maria had another habit: every meal, two dishes went untouched, not a single bite taken, as if deliberately left for Amon.
Thinking of Aikou-Maria, Amon looked again at Schrödinger and thought to himself: Aikou-Maria seems to leave two whole dishes for me on purpose, knowing I'll eat her leftovers. But if it were the other way around, of course she'd never eat my leftovers, and she'd never eat together with me. Does this cat really think itself too noble for that?
After thinking it over for a long while, Amon finally sighed and decided not to hold it against the cat. The Old Madman had said it might be the only guide to finding Bel's whereabouts. And on this long, lonely journey, Schrödinger was his only companion. Best to try and see whether that was what the cat meant.
Amon was clever, and he had guessed right!
He cooked another pot of fragrant beef broth, carried it over and set it down in front of Schrödinger. Then he sat down and began to meditate, opening "the power bestowed by the gods" and linking it to the air that filled the world around him, trying to summon and control the air elementals. For the first step, he needed a gust of wind.
His staff was set with Deep Blue Water Heart and Windcharm Dance, plus two more standard godstones, and it was wonderfully responsive to use. Soon he summoned a wind that rose spinning before him, and then he made the breeze blow the campfire flames into all sorts of shapes, as a kind of game.
After playing for a long while, he remembered the next step of the air elemental divine art. A wave of his staff condensed a transparent wind blade in the air, which cut a shallow line across the ashes of the fire. By then he felt a little tired, so he decided to rest and added enough firewood to the fire. When he looked back, Schrödinger had already finished that whole pot of beef broth, had crawled back into the leather satchel and was sleeping soundly, only half its head showing.
How can this fat cat eat and drink so much!