I raise my right arm at a 45° angle, stretching it as far as I can—as if grasping for something. Then after having grasped onto nothingness, I clench my hand into a solid ball, imagining I fist bump a dear friend—wishing he's just somewhere out there, safe and sound. I mumble sadly, "If only he didn't join the exploration team…"
I'm staring at that part of the sky where no clouds ever drift around—that's the direction North of Ignisia where the Chariot of Light had once summoned heroes to save our world from the Apocalypse many eons ago.
I'm standing on the Sigil of Light, the emblem imbued with arcane magic bearing the school's crest, in the middle of the Eramessa Academy of Magic. Hundreds of miles above me is the levitating Tower that reaches the sky. It symbolizes our hope and will to thrive. It's the ultimate shield from the curse. It's like a lighthouse amidst the sea of darkness that permeates the outside world.
I spread my fingers widely, sighing at the unladylike features of my hand. They say that the most gifted mages have elegant hands because wands are powerful yet delicate, beautiful conduits of magic. It's only natural that the wielder of magic has graceful hands.
What am I even doing? What am I even trying to reach? While everyone's goal is to level up, reach the tower's peak, and become the Keeper of the Five Elements, I wish to explore dungeons with the maps I created.
I'm sighing heavily, unloading the burden off my chest.
These brawny hands aren't meant to wield a wand—no matter the hard work, sleepless nights from reading arcane books, and raiding dungeons for extra credits. I even did the unthinkable by apprenticing to the reclusive distinguished mapmaker who, for so many years, declined anyone applying to become his student.
I tried so hard, yet I couldn't keep up with my classmates at the Academy. What use is a nowand, a term they use for people who can't wield magic, in the academy of magic? Maybe I should just give up the scholarship and go home.
Life was easy back in my humble village. There are two works available for you: farming and dungeoneering—or both.
If I hadn't helped the noblewoman when her carriage was stuck in the mud, she wouldn't have funded my scholarship. My folks thought it was an opportunity since not everyone is given a chance to study in the prestigious Academy. It's an exclusive school for mages; in fact, it's the only school of magic. The greatest Keepers of Five Elements comes from the Academy. Recently, they changed their admission by accepting non-magic wielders into their institution. And I was highly recommended by the kind noblewoman. In retrospect, I shouldn't have taken that entrance test.
Smiling wryly at myself, I mumble, "Look where my guts led me…"
"Daydreaming again?" a woman's voice, brimming with arrogant and whiny temperament, disrupts my moment of peace. She asks mockingly, "Are you regretting that your guts lead you in the gutter, nowand?"