It was a quiet country, surrounded by rugged, forbidding mountains and hidden behind tall walls. Nobody from the outside world could visit.

Above a rock face shimmering with heat in the brilliant sunlight, a single broom soared through the warm air. The one guiding it on its way was a beautiful young girl. She wore a black robe and a pointy hat, and her ashen hair flapped in the wind. If anyone had been around to notice her, they would have turned to look, wondering with a sigh who that beauty on the broom could be…

That's right. She's me.

Ah, that was a joke.

"…Almost there."

The high wall looked like it had been carved out of the mountain itself. Glancing downward just a bit, I spotted the gate and steered my broom toward it.

It had taken some serious work to get to this country, but I suppose the people who lived here had planned it that way—to keep people from entering by mistake. After all, there's no way anyone would trek all the way out here without a very good reason.

I dismounted my broom just in front of the gate. A local sentry, apparently conducting immigration inspections, stepped up to meet me.

After looking me over slowly from head to toe and examining the brooch on my chest, he smiled cheerfully.

"Welcome to the Country of Mages. Right this way, Madam Witch."

"Hmm? Don't you need to test whether I can do magic or not?"

I had heard that anyone visiting this country had to prove their magical ability to enter; anyone who didn't meet a certain standard would be turned away.

"I saw you fly in. And besides, that brooch you're wearing means you're a witch. So please, go on ahead."

Oh yeah, that's right. Being able to fly on a broom is one of the minimum prerequisites for entry. Of course they could see my approach from the gatehouse. How silly of me!

After bowing slightly to the guard, I passed through the massive gate.

Here was the mages' country. Novice magic users, apprentices, and full-fledged witches—as long as you could use magic, you were permitted into this curious country, while everyone else was turned away.

As I passed through the huge gate, two strange signboards standing side by side caught my eye. I peered at them in confusion.

The first sign depicted a mage straddling a broom, enclosed in a circle. The sign beside it showed the image of a soldier walking, surrounded by a triangle.

What's with these signs?

I knew the answer as soon as I looked up—above the crowded brickwork houses and beneath the gleaming sun, mages of all kinds were streaking across the sky in every direction.

I see. It must be a rule in countries where they only permit mages to enter—most everyone's flying around on a broom, so very few people choose to walk.

Satisfied with my explanation for the signboards, I pulled out my broom and sat on it sideways. With a push off the ground, I gently floated up into the air in a living demonstration of the signboard.

"So flying is the preferred mode of transportation here, huh?"

And with that, I saw the mages' country as it was meant to be seen.

Above the reddish-brown roofs stretched out like so much dry earth, mages drifted through the air. Some had stopped their brooms to have a friendly chat, while others flew by with bundles of baggage tied to their brooms. There were suspicious, witchy-looking old women as well as children racing through the sky, vying to see who

could fly higher.

These people must live their whole lives in the air. It was a really wonderful scene. It almost took my breath away. I joined their ranks, soaring above the country, aimlessly surrendering to the flow of air traffic around me. Suddenly a sign secured to the top of one of the roofs caught my eye. It was apparently an INN. I passed it without stopping and saw the word GROCER next. There were others: a BUTCHER and even a JEWELER.

As I suspected, life here was lived above the rooftops, and placing your signs on top of the roof must have been common practice.

Looking around, I saw that the roofs on most houses had a window built in that was large enough for a single person to pass through. As I watched absently, one of those windows opened, and a man riding a broom flew out.

So that's what they're used for.

I flew around at a leisurely pace, slowly taking in the scenery, until—

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

—a scream came from behind me. Steadying my broom with one hand, I held on to my hat so it wouldn't fly away and turned around.

Ah, too late.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhh!"

Careening directly toward me at a preposterous speed, like a screaming meteorite trailing a tail of tears, the person in question was already only about one rooftop away by the time I spotted them.

Dodge? Impossible.

I reflexively turned my upper body away, but there was no avoiding the collision. With a series of grunts ("Ugya!" "Geh"), we tangled together and crashed into the rooftop below. The neatly lined tiles sheared off with a clatter and crunch, and we finally came to a halt just shy of falling off the edge of the roof. I saw a single tile bounce

off the ground far below. Thank goodness there weren't any pedestrians.

The angle had been shallow, and I had avoided a direct collision with the ground. Plus, the strange person who had collided with me had taken the brunt of the landing, so thankfully I was uninjured.

I clambered to my feet, brushing at a few reddish-brown shards of roofing that were stuck to my black robe.

"..."

"Urggggh…"

The teenage girl groaning and looking around in a daze appeared to be just a little bit younger than me. Her black hair was cut short and even all the way around, and she had an androgynous-looking face.

She wore a white blouse and a checkered skirt under a black mantle, both of which were in serious disarray after she got caught underneath me.

She isn't wearing a brooch or anything on her chest, so she must be a novice.

"…Um, are you all right?"

When I touched the fallen girl's shoulder, she opened her eyes.

"..."

"..." She was silent.

It seemed like she was still struggling to process the situation, so I ventured, "Do you have trouble steering your broom?"

Yes, I'll admit I was being a touch sarcastic.

"…Ah."

"Looks like you've finally come your senses," I said with a smile.

"Ahhhh!" She looked around again. "Wh-wh-wh-what do I do? What do I do? There's no way I can fix this many tiles…"

Hey, now… "How about an apology first?"

"Ah, s-sorry! It wasn't on purpose! Really!"

Well, I knew that. "Anyway, are you all right? You flew in like a hurricane."

"Oh, I'm fine! I'm in tip-top shape, see?!" the girl said, as small rivulets of red ran down from her head. Her eyes were clear, and she had no trouble speaking.

...

"You're bleeding. From your head."

"That's just sweat!"

"Does your sweat always smell like iron?"

"Um, well, um… It's sweat!"

"Okay, I get it, so just calm down a little."

"Yes, ma'am!"

"..."

I'm not sure why, but I already feel exhausted. Maybe it's from the collision.

I had been planning to make the girl fix the broken tiles after a good scolding, but enough was enough. She was already a mess; forcing her to repair the roof when she was in this state would just be heartless. Instead, I took my handkerchief out of my pocket.

"Here, have this. Press it to your head."

"Oh…but…"

"Also, I'm going to put the roof tiles back now, so go take a rest over

there, please."

"No, I'll help, too!"

"In your condition, if you tried to help, you'd just be in the way. Go

rest," I told her in no uncertain terms.

"But—"

"You're. In. My. Way."

"…Okay."

Like a stray cat, the dejected young girl sat down on the peak of the roof and pressed the handkerchief against her head wound. As energetic as she had seemed, it was clear she had pushed herself a little too hard. The very moment she sat down, she slouched over and collapsed.

I can put off dealing with her for a bit. It's not like she's going to die from her injury or anything. First, let's do something about this disaster here…

I gathered magical energy in my hands. Instantly, a long, thin wand appeared in my grasp, accompanied by a faint glow.

This was the special privilege of mages. We're able to produce anything—wands and brooms and other magical tools, for example—out of thin air.

I channeled energy into my wand and set to work.

It was a time-reversing spell.

As the name might suggest, it's a type of magic that fixes broken things and heals injuries by making time run in reverse. It requires slightly advanced magical ability, but any witch living in this country should have been able to perform it. I'm sure it would have been difficult for the little novice out cold behind me, though.

The roof tiles began to move as I showered them with magic. The broken tiles stuck themselves back together, returning to their original places like so many puzzle pieces.

After all the fragments had vanished and any sign of an accident had been wiped away, I completed the spell and turned around. Now it was time to fix up the girl.

"Okay, you're next."

"Um, uhhh…"

I approached the girl, who sat up nervously holding her head, and applied the spell. Beneath the gentle light, her tattered clothes mended themselves and her injuries healed instantly.

"Whoa…" I could hear her mumble.

It's nothing impressive, though. Once you become a witch, this stuff is a cinch.

After making sure that she was in good shape, I hurried over to pick up the brooms that had fallen onto the roof. I decided it was probably a good idea to get out of there before making any more of a scene.

"Oh, um!"

The girl apparently had more to say to me, but I threw one leg over my broom, halfway ignoring her. "You don't need to apologize. Just don't forget to look where you're going when you're flying around on your broom, okay?"

"Please wait, I have to do something to make up for—"

"No need. I'm in a hurry. Good-bye, nameless novice."

And so I got back on my broom and flew away.