"Why can't I use magic?"
I stared at the small, floating snake-like creature, waiting for its response.
The question had lingered in my mind for years, a thorn buried so deeply I had grown accustomed to its constant presence. Magic was the very fabric of this world, woven into the lives of everyone around me. Yet, despite being born into a family of talented magicians, I had never once been able to wield it.
The little serpent—blue-scaled, with tiny golden frills and white horn-like protrusions—tilted its head, seemingly caught off guard by the gravity of my words. Then, with an unsettlingly human smirk, it answered.
"Oh, I see. You want the big reveal, huh?"
"That's right," I replied firmly. "If you're truly a spirit, the origin of magic itself, then you should know why someone like me—someone who supposedly has mana flowing through their veins—can't use it. I've trained, I've studied, and still, nothing. What's the cause?"
The spirit's grin widened. "Oh, this is rich. You've been carrying that question around for years, haven't you? And now, here you are, hoping a little ol' spirit like me has the answer."
"Enough stalling. Do you have an explanation or not?"
The spirit floated closer, its body coiling in mid-air. "Alright, alright, no need to get snippy. Let's take a look, shall we?"
Before I could ask what it meant, the creature darted forward, its tiny fangs sinking into my navel.
"Hey—!"
I staggered back, instinctively clawing at my abdomen, but the snake was gone. There was no wound, no pain—just a strange, tingling sensation deep inside me. My hands groped uselessly at my stomach as I spun around, searching for the serpent.
"Relax, will ya? I'm just having a little peek," came the snake's voice, now seemingly emanating from inside me.
"What the hell are you doing?!"
"Checking out the goods," it replied nonchalantly. "You asked me to figure out why you can't use magic, didn't you? Well, I've gotta get up close and personal to see what's going on in there."
I was too stunned to respond, reduced to pacing in frantic circles around the shrine as I clutched at my gut.
After a few excruciating minutes, the spirit reemerged, slipping out of my abdomen as though it were swimming through water. I recoiled instinctively, clutching my stomach as though it might fall apart.
"Whew!" The snake stretched its tiny body like a cat waking from a nap. "Gotta say, that was a fascinating little tour. You've got a lot going on in there, buddy."
"Explain. Now," I growled.
"Alright, alright, keep your pants on. Here's the deal: you've got mana—plenty of it, in fact. Flows nice and steady, just like it should. The problem is…"
The snake paused dramatically, its body curling into a tight circle before unfurling again.
"You don't have an exit."
I blinked. "What?"
"You heard me. No exit. No outlet. Your mana's just swirling around in there, like water in a sealed jar. Without a way out, it can't do squat."
The spirit mimed a jar with its body, its tone oddly chipper for someone delivering such grim news.
"You're saying… I'm defective?"
"Whoa, whoa, let's not jump to conclusions here. It's not about being defective—it's just how you're built. Some people are tall, some are short. Some have a knack for magic, and some… well, don't."
I let out a bitter laugh. "Right. And in a world where magic is everything, being unable to use it is just a harmless little quirk."
The snake tilted its head, seeming genuinely puzzled. "Why are you acting like it's the end of the world? So you can't use magic the normal way. Big deal. There are plenty of other ways to—"
"Enough," I snapped, cutting it off. "You've answered my question. Now leave me be."
The spirit blinked, then grinned slyly. "Oh, I see. You think that's the end of it, don't you? That you're doomed to a magicless existence, just because you don't have a natural outlet."
"What are you getting at?"
"Simple." The spirit coiled in mid-air, its golden frills shimmering in the light. "Who says you can't make an exit?"
I froze. "Make an exit? What are you talking about?"
"Exactly what it sounds like. Sure, you weren't born with one, but that doesn't mean it's impossible to create one. In fact, I might just know a way…"
The serpent's voice trailed off, its tone dripping with mischief.
"And? What's this way you're talking about?"
"Oh, I'll tell you," it said, yawning dramatically. "But first, you've gotta do something for me. Call it a fair trade."
"...What do you want?"
The snake floated closer, lowering its voice conspiratorially. "There's a little something I need from the forest nearby. A rare herb—goes by the name 'Lunar Ivy.' You bring me that, and I'll show you how to unlock your magic."
"Lunar Ivy? That's it?"
"Yup! Easy-peasy, lemon-squeezy."
I narrowed my eyes. "And why do you need this herb, exactly?"
"Details, details," the snake said, waving me off with its tail. "Let's just say it's crucial for the little ritual I've got planned. Trust me, you'll thank me later."
Before I could press further, the spirit began to fade, its translucent body flickering like a dying flame.
"Whoa, hold on. Where are you going?"
"Running out of time," it mumbled, its voice growing faint. "Gotta recharge. Don't forget—Lunar Ivy. And hey…"
The snake flashed me one last grin before disappearing entirely.
"The name's Seiryu. Don't wear it out."
Chapter: A Duel in the Courtyard
As I trudged back toward the estate, Seiryu's words echoed in my mind.
Make an exit.
Was it really possible? Could I, someone who had been labeled a failure for years, finally gain access to the magic that had eluded me for so long?
I was so lost in thought that I barely noticed the commotion coming from the estate's courtyard.
"Victory goes to Sir Johan! Two wins and one draw—an impressive showing!"
The announcement, followed by a chorus of cheers, snapped me out of my reverie.
I made my way toward the courtyard, staying in the shadows to avoid drawing attention. There, in the center of the crowd, stood my brother Johan, his blond hair damp with sweat as he faced off against a tall, white-haired knight.
The knight—Marduk, one of Lady Fiolette's attendants—lowered his blade and offered Johan a respectful bow.
"Well fought, young master. Your skills are truly remarkable for someone of your age."
Johan frowned, clearly unsatisfied. "You're holding back."
"Pardon?"
"Don't play dumb. You've been pulling your punches this whole time. Fight me seriously, or don't fight me at all."
Marduk sighed, his expression one of gentle amusement. "I cannot, young master. It would not be proper to—"
"I don't care about 'proper,'" Johan snapped. "If you're going to waste my time, then don't bother at all."
The knight hesitated, glancing toward Lady Fiolette, who was watching from the sidelines with an indulgent smile.
"Very well," Marduk said at last, his voice low. "If that is your wish, then meet me in the rear gardens tonight, after everyone else has retired. There, I shall give you the fight you seek."
Johan's eyes lit up, and he nodded eagerly. "Deal. But you'd better not hold back."
As the two shook hands, I turned and slipped away, unseen.
It seemed my little brother had his own challenges to overcome.