This Clueless Hero

I was heading back to the palace, but suddenly stopped. It was then I realized I should probably check out the prices of ink and paper, to see how much I would need.

...Hopefully, fifty coppers would let me buy a sizable amount.

I walked around the village aimlessly, watching the people pass by. There were not many still out on the streets considering it had gotten late. However, there were still a few persistent people trying to sell their work.

In particular, a man selling ink drawings drew my attention. After all, my goal was to acquire some ink and parchment to work on.

I casually walked over to him.

The man was a fairly young man. One that seemed to be only a few years older than me. His hair was light brown, short, and messy. His hazelnut eyes would slowly close before snapping wide open, as though he was fighting off the need to sleep.

He looked quite skinny, but not terribly so. I imagine he probably ate every day, but not nearly as much as most would. Like most people in this village, his clothes were dirty and had a few holes in them. The only difference being his clothes were even more so.

Currently, there was a piece of parchment spread out in front of him on a small wooden desk.

He held the feather tipped with ink and slowly traced lines one after another. His fingers were long compared to the average person and while they looked bony, the way they held the quill showed a sense of strength.

Laid out on the edge of the wooden desk were various drawings crafted intricately with ink. While they were not the most beautiful, it was clear effort was put in while making them. The man was not an expert, but he would not do a sloppy job.

Although I wanted to ask the man about how he obtained his ink and parchment, I also didn't want to interrupt him.

As such, I simply sat down at the opposite end. The man didn't notice me, so I decided to look at his other drawings.

One of them was of a vague figure. It looked like a silhouette of someone's side profile. This person in particular was looking up towards the sky, as though the person was questioning something.

There were faint ink markings that seemed to resemble rain and underneath the silhouette's feet were many little puddles.

It was hard to tell at first glance, but the silhouette seemed to be holding its heart. One could've easily mistaken it to be the artist making a mistake and adding a lump in the body.

I was about to glance at another drawing, but suddenly snapped back to it. I noticed that there were delicately crafted ink strokes to show that the silhouette was bleeding. Originally, I just thought that the picture looked a little weird with a fuzzy part in the silhouette.

The intent and ability were there... but the drawing's execution wasn't perfect. It was simply too hard to tell the effort and detail the artist put in the picture, making it look worse than what it could've been.

I looked at another picture. There was a silhouette just like last time, but this one was on its knees.

The silhouette's head was stretched at an angle as was the center of its chest. As for the silhouette's hands, they were spread out to its sides, in a position that resembled a claw.

Both of these hands had a thread connected to the end of each finger. The threads of the left hand connected with the silhouette's chest and seemed to be stretched taut. As for the threads of the right head, they were connected to the silhouette's head, seemingly pulling it to the side.

One hand attempted to pull out the heart, while the other attempted to pull out the mind.

Overall... the picture looked quite gruesome. Although it was well drawn, it wasn't the type of drawing anybody would hang up in their home or proudly show visitors.

It was simply too creepy.

I turned to look at the drawing the man was currently making. He was drawing two swans looking at each other. The swans were drawn by outlining their features so that the swan itself appeared white in contrast with the black ink.

The two swan's beaks were close to each other, but not close enough to touch. If they were just a bit closer, it would've made the shape of a heart, making quite the lovely picture.

Yet... instead, it was slightly jarring. The man was currently outlining the background, creating a lake with a few lily pads.

As I continued to inspect the swans, I couldn't help but... feel something. They were simply two swans in the lake, but there appeared to be a touch of animosity between them. I couldn't make sense of what gave me that feeling. Perhaps it was the position of the swans, or maybe the angle of their heads.

But... a static picture made me feel as though there was a silent conflict between the two swans. It was basically magical.

My hand scratched the back of my head.

Although it was impressive, this was still not the kind of drawing most would put up in their house. I imagine to the people that simply take a glance, they would feel something was off. For those that could tell there was some sort of animosity, they wouldn't like keeping that picture in their room either.

After all, why would you hang up paintings that brought your mood down when you could hang up ones that made you happy?

Once it got close to night, the man finished the last stroke of his drawing and then lifted the feather from the paper. He heaved a long sigh.

I scratched my cheek with my forefinger.

"Nice drawing."

The man continued looking down and subconsciously nodded.

"Thanks."

After a few moments, he began blinking rapidly and looked at me curiously.

"Ah, were you here the entire time?"

I tilted my head to the side.

"Uh... not the whole time, but a decent chunk, yeah."

The man shook his head, discarding the sleepiness in his eyes.

"Um, is there a drawing you would like to buy?"

I scratched the back of my head.

"Haha, I don't really have any money..."

The man nodded with disappointment.

"I see."

I rubbed my chin with my thumb and forefinger.

"Say, how much do you sell those drawings for?"

The man shrugged his shoulders.

"I wanted to sell them each for one silver, but most people aren't willing to buy it for so much. Most of them don't sell, while others go for roughly forty coppers."

Hm... so one silver is probably one hundred coppers given that forty coppers has less monetary value than one silver.

I scratched the back of my head.

"So what is the cost of the ink and paper?"

The man sighed.

"Well... ink is fairly cheap. You can get a jar that will last quite a while for a silver, but the parchment is quite expensive. It's usually about twenty-five coppers for one like this. Ah, and the feather is fifty coppers."

The side of my face twitched.

...Fifty coppers a day meant it would take me three days to get the feather and ink. Then from there, I would only get two small squares of paper per day.

If it was like this, I would only be able to practice memorizing the spell diagram a tiny bit by drawing each day. In the end, I would have to rely mostly on my own mind to comprehend it.

I could feel a headache coming on. I rubbed my temple with my knuckle and sighed.

The man in front of me chuckled.

"Want to get into drawing as well?"

A bitter smile appeared on my face.

"Something like that, yeah."

The man shook his head.

"Personally, I don't recommend it."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Huh? Then why are you doing it?"

The man chuckled.

"Because I'm stupid."

I blinked a few times.

...What?

The man took a deep breath.

"In reality, I hardly earn money at all. In fact, I lose money on most days just from the expenses of drawing itself."

He smiled in self-mockery.

"You can probably imagine how hard it is to buy enough food to eat."

The man's expression became serious.

"But... I enjoy it. And so, I have decided to spend the rest of my life drawing, teetering on a dangerous line of poverty. It's quite a strange feeling to break my back working the entire day only to earn what others could make in a few hours. And sometimes I simply end up losing money."

The man chuckled self-deprecatingly.

"Not to mention the fact... I might lose my initial passion for drawing in the first place. Once that happens, there's probably nothing left for me. From there, starving to death seems like the only possibility."

He flashed a smile.

"Thus, in conclusion."

The man closed his eyes.

"I'm stupid."