"Pfft..." She burst out laughing, her voice wild and unrestrained. "Hahaha... hahaha... Pfft... hahaha!" She even slapped the table, unable to contain herself.
"'The only thing magic does better than anything else is killing,'" she mimicked my voice with exaggerated drama, poking fun at me. "Pfft... hahaha... edgelord... hahaha!" Her laughter echoed through the garden, relentless. It's painful, really.
And me? I shrank in embarrassment, my face heating up. The way she worded it, you'd think she was heading somewhere serious. But no—it turns out she was aiming somewhere entirely different.
I've read too many novels. My brain's been hijacked by wild ideas.
"Pfft..." The maid serving the cake stifled a laugh, quickly regaining her composure. "Pardon me," she said, her voice trembling with restraint.
Even the maid is laughing at me. I want to die from embarrassment.
"The washroom is over there," she added, her tone polite but barely masking her amusement. "I shall guide you... Pfft..."
"Thank you..." It was all I could manage, enduring the fatal cringe of the moment.
Stop laughing, please. Just stop.
__Sylvia POV__
What an interesting lad.
Magic, like everything in this world, has its limitations. Magic indeed is the unwavering of this world's nature—or at least, that's what the church has been preaching for centuries.
But...
Those who fight on the battlefield—knights, soldiers, adventurers, and even mercenaries—understand better than anyone just how easy it is to kill with magic.
Does Silica and others know? Perhaps they noticed it, if not why ask me to guard him?
This guy.
It'll be interesting to see what that thing will bring to this world.
________________
As I trudged after the maid, who was still biting her lip to stifle more laughter, I caught a glimpse of Sylvia waving at me from the table, her grin smug and unapologetic.
Of course, she's enjoying this.
The door to the bathroom creaked open, and I slipped inside, finally escaping their amused stares. I leaned against the sink, splashing cold water on my face in a desperate attempt to calm my embarrassment.
I wasn't wrong, though. Think about it—compare a pistol to an atomic bomb. It's obvious which one would cause more destruction. Magic in that sense is the same. The sheer scale of devastation it can bring is unparalleled.
Still, whatever. I'll just spend some time here, away from her teasing. Maybe by the time I get back, she'll have moved on from it. Hopefully.
I look at my reflection in the mirror. What's reflected is the same guy I was, nothing more nothing different.
Dark, slightly messy hair that refused to stay combed no matter how much effort I put in. Sharp, tired eyes that often made people think I was deep in thought, though I rarely was. My face was pale—not sickly, but enough to hint that I spent more time indoors than outside.
I looked ordinary, but not forgettable. Just someone who blended in unless you looked closely.
"Study of the world's nature." I blurted out unconsciously. Perhaps I was still thinking of going back to my world.
Again, I splash cold water on my face, hoping to wash the thought away.
"I guess that's enough spacing out. I want to learn magic, and fast."
Stepping out of the washroom, the maid was still there. Now that I had a better look at her, I realized behind her glasses—she was pretty too. It felt like everyone here was strikingly good-looking.
We were silently walking the path toward where Sylvia was.
"So, how long have you been working here?" I asked curiously.
"It has been six moon cycles," she answered.
I furrowed my brow, not quite understanding what she meant. If she was referring to moon cycles I know from Earth, that should be roughly thirty days.
"Pardon me," she said, "but thirty days make up a single cycle, so in my case, that would be about one hundred and eighty days working here."
I must've looked confused because she noticed right away.
"I see," I said softly, her voice calm.
We fell into silence again as we continued walking, soon reaching where Sylvia was.
"Thanks," I said to her with a nod.
"It's my pleasure. If you need anything, please don't hesitate," she replied with a polite smile before backing away.
"So, can we start now?" Her energy seemed as vibrant as during our first encounter earlier.
"Yeah," I said simply, ignoring her smug smile.
"First, what do you think magic is?"
"Some sort of miracles."
"Well, you're not exactly wrong," she said with a hint of amusement. "If you see someone capable of manipulating fire, I guess the first thing you'd think is that it's a miracle."
"I mean, yeah," I agreed. "If someone can perform feats like manipulating fire, it challenges natural laws and pushes the boundaries of what is considered possible. From an outsider's perspective, such abilities seem almost god-like, sparking awe and reverence." and that's one of the many reasons I want to learn magic.
"That's also correct. In fact, there was a time when everyone thought of it the same," she replied with a thoughtful tone. "But, do you know what makes it different than miracles?"
Picking my interest, my focus deepened with curiosity.
"Are you not going to answer?" she asked, her tone calm and expectant as if waiting for my response.
"Miracles happen out of nowhere, meanwhile in magic, you have to cast a spell—something like that?" I posed the question more than offering an answer.
She smiled softly and spoke again, "Yeah, something like that, but not exactly."
"I guess it's not a bad idea to teach you magic after all," she added.
See? How'd you like that? I can be pretty smart too, just not in academics, math specifically. A small sense of pride swelled within me as I finally felt like I had her attention.
"Well, to begin with, magic is not exactly what you think. It is just the resulting effect of a process," she explained.
"Process?" I asked, curious.
"Were you aware of what Source magic is?"
"Source magic or origin, something like that, Silica mentioned it once."
"So you're aware of it," she said with a nod. "That is where the process begins. Every being in this world possesses mana—it's different than source magic. Mana refers to energy, meanwhile source magic refers to what kind." she continued.
"When using magic, the thing that actually happens is that you give form and shape to that intangible energy that is mana," she said. "So yeah, when miracles happen without a word, magic is a whole process of perfecting a skill," she continued, going back to our discussion earlier.
"It's not about just willing something into existence," she added, "it's about understanding the flow of mana, learning to control it, and shaping it into the desired result."
That's like those explanations they always give in novels. Feel your mana, let it flow, shape it, then release it. I guess fantasy authors do get that part right.
"We start with that. First, you need to be aware of your mana. Once you can do that, then we should be able to determine what kind of source magic you have."
"So, how do I do that?"
"First, let's change location. Transfer."
The scenery shifted to a vast, open field with a single huge tree standing in the middle of nowhere. The fields were lush and green, and animals grazed peacefully on the grass. One thing I could tell was that we were outside of Agatha.
"Position yourself where you are most comfortable with—sit or stand, just make sure you are relaxed. Being able to concentrate is our main goal," she said while standing up.
"Like this?" I quickly settled into a cross-legged position, mimicking the meditation poses from those videos I've seen online. If people could sit like this for hours, it should be pretty comfortable position.
"Good enough, then close your eyes."
I followed her instructions, closing my eyes and waiting for more guidance.
"Relax your mind and think of nothing."
A simple order, yet a daunting one for me. I'm an overthinker, after all. Shutting my brain down is the hardest task imaginable. No matter how much I want to relax, I always end up thinking about random things, like that coin I accidentally inserted into my friend's CD player. That shit has been bothering me for years.
"Concentrate." She said, likely observing how relaxed I am.
I didn't answer and just continued with my task. I just hope I don't fall asleep.
'That shit really does bother me.'
...
SWOOOOSHHHHHH
"Ha!"
SWOOOOSHHHHHH
"Ha!"
I opened my eyes to an unexpected sight.
Sylvia was practicing with her scythe, her movements precise and deliberate. Each swing was fierce, cutting through the air with a sharp whistle, yet her stance remained composed and regal, betraying the raw power her strikes commanded.
The night sky had begun to unveil itself, stars twinkling faintly against the darkening horizon. It seemed I had fallen asleep. I must have been more tired than I thought. A lot had happened today, my first day here. I couldn't help but wonder what kind of future awaited me.
"Already awake?" Her voice startled me. I hadn't even noticed her approach, her footsteps still eerily silent.
"You slept like a log. You didn't even wake up when I slapped you."
That's... a bit much.
"Oi."
"Nah, I'm just kidding," she said with a sly grin. "You looked tired, so I let you sleep."
"Thanks. I guess I'm more exhausted than I realized," I admitted, appreciating the gesture.
"Let's head back. Magic can wait until tomorrow, you need proper rest first."
"Thanks," I said again.
"Transfer," she said simply.
Was that really a chant? It's way too short.