TALE OF SELOTHEA AI漫畫·條漫

It had been seven months since humanity, cambions, and Empers clawed their way back to the surface after the Earth‑Sky Collapse, yet the valley still felt unsettled—raw at the edges, brittle at the center. Rumors from Omari drifted through every district like dust on the wind: the last royal Emper had vanished after poisoning the great Omarian vines, sparking a sickness that left bodies uncounted and tempers sharp. People spoke his name with fear now, some calling him deranged, others insisting he meant to end all life. But District of Mienga had no time for rumors. The sun sat high and bright, a thin breeze skimming the plain and lifting dust in lazy ribbons. Asha and four other apprentices walked the dirt path toward Aromore, the village an hour from the campground where the apprentices lived. Eifer had given them the assignment—carve a streambed from the river before the dry weeks tightened their grip—and the order hung between them like a taut rope. June fell into step beside Asha at the back, voice low and curious. “Hey—been meaning to ask. Ever since Master Myron took us in, we’ve seen what everyone else can do. I never got a look at yours. What is your magic, Asha?” Asha kept her gaze on the path, boots scuffing the hard earth. “Oh, that,” she said, a small, embarrassed smile. “I… I don’t know you’d call it magic. I can move a pebble. That’s about it.” June blinked, intrigued. “A pebble? Like, fling it across the field or—” “Not like that.” Asha reached down and pinched a tiny stone between thumb and forefinger, holding it up so he could see. “An inch, maybe. Lift it, nudge it. Nothing dramatic. I don’t like using it much, but I need to get better.” June’s grin was easy, amused. “Huh. Guess we’re in the same boat.” He glanced at her, one eyebrow raised. “You told Eifer, though. He’s seen it?” Asha’s fingers tightened around the pebble for a heartbeat. “Only Eifer. I told him because he asked. He said I’d have to show it when the time came.” She set the stone back on the path and let it roll a hair’s breadth with a faint, practiced motion. “You’ll see soon enough.” Asha lifted an eyebrow at him. “Wait—your abilities? I’ve never actually seen them. I only heard… vaguely… that you have something ‘unique.’” June groaned under his breath. “Shomari, you lying airhead.” Asha blinked. “Shomari told me nothing specific.” “Yeah, well,” June muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, “he probably told you enough to make me sound like some kind of walking miracle.” He could practically see Shomari’s mischievous grin in his mind, the way he’d laugh and slap June’s shoulder like he was doing him a favor. June sighed and looked at Asha. “My abilities are… fine. Cool, even. Just not the best fit for most situations.” Asha’s curiosity sharpened, but she didn’t push. She knew better. “I’ll find out eventually.” “You will,” June said, a small smile tugging at his mouth. Before Asha could respond, Itanya spun around, hands on her hips, voice slicing through the air. “Will the two of you quit talking about your abilities?” she snapped. “Some of us are trying to lead properly. These routes are tricky, and your constant chatter is making it harder for me to focus.” Halio’s cough cracked through the warm noon air—sharp, irritated, and impossible to ignore. “Shut up already,” she snapped, glaring at Itanya. “Don’t you ever get tired of your own voice? It pisses me off. I think it’s what got me sick in the first place.” Itanya spun on her heel, eyes blazing. “Says the girl with anger and attitude issues. You should really have a muzzle on. And learn respect. I’m the leader, so I’ll make sure this mission is done correctly.” Asha winced. June sighed. “Listen,” June said, stepping forward, palms out. “Are we really going to fight each other before the mission even starts?” Halio shot him a look sharp enough to cut bark. “I will hurt somebody if they keep talking.” Then she stormed ahead, boots kicking up dust. Itanya’s jaw dropped. “You aren’t the leader—I am! Get over here! Stay behind me!” She jogged after Halio, practically vibrating with outrage. That left Asha, June, and Okonkwa standing in the middle of the path, staring after them. Asha blinked. “Did… that just happen?” June rubbed his forehead. “Every day with them feels like a new kind of headache.” Okonkwa stepped forward, calm as ever, hands folded behind his back. “Arguing won’t finish the mission,” he said simply. “And neither will working alone.” He continued walking, steady and unbothered. Asha and June exchanged a look, then followed. “Okonkwa’s right,” Asha murmured. June nodded. “He usually is.” They reached Aromore just as the heat began to settle into the packed earth, the village unfolding in a scatter of low huts, patched fences, and narrow footpaths worn by generations. Only about a hundred and thirty-five people lived here, but the place felt stretched thin—like a drum pulled too tight. Kaner, the village head council, waited for them near the central clearing. He was broad‑shouldered, sun‑creased, and carried the kind of tired that came from years of rationing water. A few adults and several children clustered behind him, watching the apprentices with a mix of hope and caution. Asha stepped forward, June at her shoulder, the others fanning out behind them. Kaner bowed his head in greeting. “Welcome to Aromore. We’re grateful Eifer sent help. The river still runs, but it barely reaches us anymore. Carrying water from that distance… it’s wearing our people down.” He gestured to the villagers behind him—farmers with cracked hands, guards with dust‑stained boots, children with clay‑dry cheeks. “If you can create stream beds closer to the village, it will change everything.” June inhaled, ready to speak, but Itanya cut in before he could get a word out. “Show us where,” she said, sharp and efficient. “What needs to be done, exactly.” Kaner didn’t seem offended—if anything, he looked relieved by her directness. He motioned for them to follow and began walking toward the edge of the clearing. “We need three stream beds,” he explained. “One here in the central grounds, so families can draw water without walking half a mile. One near the crop fields—our harvest has been suffering. And one near the guard stations, along the border where the port workers pass through. They need water to maintain the patrol routes.” Halio muttered under his breath, “Three. Of course it’s three.” Okonkwa gave him a quiet look that said save it for later. June finally found his moment. “How far is the river from each point?” Kaner pointed toward the distant shimmer of water. “Farther than it should be. The land slopes strangely here. The river wants to run away from us.” Asha’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Then we’ll make it run toward you.” Itanya folded her arms, already calculating. “We’ll need to see each site. Terrain, soil, distance. Then we’ll decide the order.” Kaner nodded. “I’ll take you.” The apprentices exchanged glances—June curious, Halio skeptical, Okonkwa steady, Itanya already in command, and Asha quietly holding the weight of the mission. Aromore waited for them, dry and hopeful. Asha and the others followed Kaner down the narrow slope toward the river, the air cooling slightly as the sound of running water grew louder. The river itself wasn’t impressive—thin, tired, carving a reluctant path through the dry banks—but it was still the strongest source of life Aromore had. Kaner stopped at the edge, pointing downstream. “The river runs farther that way,” he said. “If you follow it long enough, it probably ends near the Omari district.” That name hit the group like a spark in dry grass. June’s jaw tightened. Itanya’s eyes narrowed. Halio’s expression sharpened into something close to a scowl. Rumors of the missing royal Emper—rumors tied to Omari—had been circulating for months. None of them liked hearing the district’s name spoken so casually. Asha stepped forward before the tension could thicken. “We’ll get started immediately.” Kaner blinked, taken aback by her decisiveness, but relief quickly softened his features. “Truly? That’s… that’s more than we hoped for.” June exhaled slowly, letting the anger settle into something quieter. Okonkwa stood steady behind them, watching the river with a thoughtful calm. But Itanya lifted a hand, cutting cleanly through the moment. “First,” she said, “where will we be staying? This might take a couple of days, just from looking at your request.” Kaner’s eyes widened. “Ah—yes. That is rude of me. How could I forget?” He motioned for them to follow him back toward the village. “Come. I’ll show you where the five of you will be staying.” Halio muttered, “Finally,” under his breath. June shot him a look that said behave, though he didn’t disagree. Asha fell into step beside Kaner, her voice steady. “Once we drop our things, we’ll survey the three sites. The central grounds, the crops, and the guard stations.” Kaner nodded gratefully. “We’ll support you however we can.” Behind them, Itanya smirked. “Good. Because we’re not here to waste time.” The apprentices followed Kaner toward the cluster of huts, the river whispering behind them, the name Omari still hanging in the air like a shadow. Kaner led them to a modest hut near the center of Aromore—simple walls, a woven‑reed door, and five futons laid out in a neat row on the floor. Dust motes drifted in the slanted noon light. Itanya stopped in the doorway, stared at the single shared room, and let out a sharp, incredulous breath. “Unbelievable. We don’t even get our own privacy?” Kaner opened his mouth—apologetic, scrambling for a response—but Asha stepped in smoothly before he could. “Thank you so much,” she said, bowing her head slightly. “We’ll get this done as soon as we can.” June added, warm and steady, “You can count on us.” Kaner’s shoulders eased. “Food will be served in the hall near my cabin. Please—feel at home.”