Part 1: The Disinherited Boy

Arcus stared out of the window and sighed for the umpteenth time. The window looked out on the Raythefts’ well-kept garden, trees, and a great number of stone houses. In terms of civilization and culture, Arcus’s world was much like the medieval Europe of the man’s world. Unlike that man’s world, the buildings here were not made of reinforced concrete, but stones and wood.

Needless to say, motor vehicles were also non-existent. Most people traveled by horse and carriage. Television, gas cookers, air conditioning, refrigerators... none of these things existed in Arcus’s world.

They did, however, have lighting, water, and sewage systems, which was something. Not that those things comforted Arcus, who had experienced the wonders of the other world through his dream, but that wasn’t why he was sighing so much anyway.

His anguish arose from the condition of his estate.

Even after his fever went down, his parents treated him just as poorly as ever. Before Arcus’s magical abilities were tested, his parents regarded him and his younger sister like there was nothing dearer to them in the world. Now Arcus was treated like dirt.

“And I am no longer the heir...”

It had only been a short time before Arcus dreamed of the other world that he was barred from his inheritance. It all came down to magic and the weight it carried in this world.

In that man’s world, magic belonged to fiction and quackery. Here, it really existed.

The Raythefts only held a viscountcy among the gentry, but it was a position they’d maintained since the ascension of the first King. They were a military family, and it was the founder’s use of magic on the battlefield that earned him a position of nobility, beginning the Raytheft line. The house’s standing could not survive an heir weak in the Arts.

When Arcus’s aether was assessed by the family a few weeks ago, he failed to achieve even an average score.

The test was simple. The examinee was asked to use magic to create ripples through the surface of a large pond and scored on how long they could sustain the effort. Most Raythefts could go for an hour or more. Arcus, however, didn’t even last three minutes.

Ever since then, his parents looked at and spoke to him like he was pure filth. They called him “a disgrace,” “talentless,” and sometimes even “a mutt.” It was an abhorrent way to treat a six-year-old. In her more enraged moments, his mother even struck him.

Arcus had tried desperately to improve his magic skills ever since. If he could do that much, then maybe his parents would return to the loving mother and father he used to know.

Arcus had torn the family’s library apart looking for some way to increase his magical power. He even asked the servants if they knew how. In the end, it seemed it was impossible after all, and even when his parents learned of his efforts, their attitude toward him did not change.

That was how Arcus ended up bedridden with a fever. He thought back to his mother’s words.

“It’s as though she wished me dead...” he murmured glumly.

They upset him, of course, but what he felt lately was a pain that stayed with him and weighed on him in a way grief didn’t. Those words of hers made him worry about the future. Would they really carry on looking after him here at the estate? Were they planning to throw him out onto the street now that he survived his fever?

Either way, Arcus considered his dream of that man to be a great blessing. He had matured through that dream, and now the prospect of being abandoned by his parents didn’t seem as scary as it may have in the past. That wasn’t to say the idea filled him with joy either, but he realized that there was no point now in trying to win back their love.

As he gazed at the gloomy sky outside his window, there was a knock at the door.

“Brother!” Lecia Raytheft, Arcus’s sister, entered without waiting for a reply.

She was an adorable child, her hair, as silver as Arcus’, bound up in a ponytail. She marched up to her brother.

“Play with me!” she demanded.

“If you want me to, I will,” Arcus replied. “But are you sure it’s okay?”

“Okay?” his sister echoed.

“Surely Mother and Father have told you to stay away from me?”

“Uh-huh! Mother told me not to go near you!” Lecia announced proudly.

Arcus wasn’t surprised in the least, though he hadn’t expected Lecia’s rebellious streak.

“I just wanna play with you!” Lecia repeated.

“All right,” Arcus replied, getting to his feet.

He enjoyed playing with his little sister. He hoped this wouldn’t end up being the last time. He knew better than to expect anything; since he was no longer the heir to the Raytheft estate, his sister would replace him—especially since she had far outperformed Arcus in the magic test.

Celine had come to hate the idea that Lecia should associate with Arcus and would take any opportunity she could to badmouth him in front of his sister. Lecia still seemed to adore him at the moment, but there was no telling what would change with time under his parents’ education.

Lecia...

Arcus studied his younger sister as she smiled at him sweetly. They weren’t actually brother and sister but cousins. While Joshua Raytheft, the head of the family, was Arcus’s father, Lecia was the daughter of Joshua’s brother, the late Dudlis Raytheft.

Arcus’s memory of their first meeting was vague, but he recalled that Lecia was introduced to him as his cousin. When her father was killed the following year in a war with a neighboring nation, Joshua took Lecia in.

Arcus and Lecia were brought up together as siblings of the same age. His parents were probably relieved now that they had done so, but Arcus himself wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

“What’s wrong?” Lecia suddenly asked.

“Nothing,” Arcus reassured her. “What did you want to play today?”

“Um... Ummm...”

And so Arcus ended up spending the majority of the day playing with Lecia.

The next day, he was called into Celine’s room to be disciplined.

“I thought I told you to stay away from Lecia!” Celine’s shrieks pierced Arcus’s ears as she stood above him.

So long as Celine caught wind of it, Arcus knew he could expect this treatment every time he and Lecia crossed paths from now on. There was nothing he could do in response but shrink back and apologize.

“I’m sorry, Mother.”

“‘Sorry’ isn’t going to cut it! If your worthlessness rubs off on her, what then?! Would you try to fix that with an apology, too?!”

Arcus knew full well that “worthlessness,” as she put it, wasn’t contagious. But he barely finished the thought before he felt a sharp impact against his cheek. Despair and frustration at his helplessness welled up inside him.

“I’m... I’m sorry.”

“Listen, you filthy mutt! I’m warning you now! Stay away from Lecia!”

She gave him a drawn-out beating. Arcus bit his lip as hard as he could, trying to bear the pain.

“Why did God curse me with a waste of space like you? Why couldn’t you be more like the Lazrael heir? He’s overflowing with magical power!” Pulling out a handkerchief, Celine began to dab at her eyes dramatically, like she was suffering most of all. She barely finished her act before she was back to screaming again. “Next time you do something like this, don’t even think that I won’t use my magic on you!”

“Yes, Mother.”

Finally free of his mother’s wrath, Arcus left the room. On his way back to his bedroom, he heard the servants whispering.

“There he is! The Raythefts’ failure of a son!”

“Look at his face! His mother’s punishment made him cry!”

“To think he was born to the viscount, and yet his magic skills are so pathetic!”

“He’s a disgrace to the family! I don’t understand why they haven’t gotten rid of him yet!”

Without magical talent, he found himself beneath even their concern. He took solace in the fact that not every servant participated in this harmful gossip. It was only those who knew how to use magic themselves; those who didn’t sympathized with him.

After finally returning to his room, Arcus closed the door. His legs trembled, like all the tension holding him up had drained from his body.

“It doesn’t matter... It doesn’t mean anything...”

It didn’t matter. Arcus knew that; he had experienced over twenty years of another man’s life. Being hated and hit by his own mother wasn’t a big deal at all. It didn’t affect him. There was no reason for him to feel anything at all. He only had to think of his parents as his mother and father in name only.

Arcus’s true mother was the gentle woman who raised the man in his dream. As long as he believed that, he had no reason to break down here. He had no need to be jealous in the least...

A sob escaped his throat. Soon, his eyes were burning. There was no stopping now. Something snapping inside him, Arcus began to bawl. Why did his parents treat him so cruelly, when less than a month ago, they treated him so tenderly? They would stroke his head and hold him tightly. Even if he whined, they would smile without scolding him for it. Now they saw him as dead weight. Was this really how his mother was going to treat the son she carried for nine months?

Perhaps it was right to shout at your child just because they were talentless.

Maybe it was normal to hit them and treat them roughly.

Arcus had lived another man’s life now. He wasn’t the same boy he was before. And yet, he found he was powerless to resist the emotions the man had endured.

But why? He saw countless hardships through that man’s eyes. He was bullied through elementary school, which led him to become the class clown until college, where he could finally spend his days as he wanted. That entire time, he carried on.

That man’s life had taught Arcus how to stand strong. Why couldn’t he stand strong now?

Arcus howled, the emotions he could no longer hold back streaming down his face as tears. When his throat dried and his tears stopped, he stayed curled up against his bedroom door.

He didn’t know how long he stayed there like that. Before he knew it, the sun disappeared, and the view outside the window darkened. Opening the door behind him, he found a trolley laden with a meal. A servant who sympathized with him must have left it there. His stomach empty from crying, Arcus couldn’t hold back his appetite.

“Magic...” he murmured to himself as he dipped a slice of bread into the cold soup.

Magic. Magic was the reason he was in this mess. It was because he lacked magic ability that he was removed from the position of heir. It was because he lacked magic ability that his parents’ love for him ran dry.

A thought flashed in his mind.

If he became a magician more powerful than anybody had ever seen, he could show his parents that they were wrong.

Arcus bit off a clump of bread. He knew it was a childish thought, but the idea appealed to him. There was something else, too.

“...I miss hamburgers.”

And could you really blame him?

The truth was, while it was far from enough to satisfy his parents, Arcus actually possessed a fraction more ability than the average magician. He could use some level of magic, but it wasn’t like he was destined to become the greatest magician the world had ever seen, either. If he put the work in, there was a chance he would be able to find some way to increase his aether. He had failed before, but that was when he was a normal six-year-old. If he could bend his new memories of the other world and its technological wonders to his advantage, then the results might be different this time around. His determination renewed, Arcus set to work rereading all his family’s grimoires.

Magic is the power to bring all sorts of phenomena to life, using mystical words to create spells.

That was probably the simplest way to sum up what magic was in this world. Based on this definition alone, the magic of this world seemed to be less limited than the magic described in the books Arcus knew from the man’s world. All you needed was to put certain words together, and you could make all sorts of things happen. As long as you could create a spell, countless possibilities lay before you.

When the books spoke of “mystical words,” they weren’t referring to a modern language, but to the Elder Tongue, whose roots were in the very origins of society. It was written in characters known as artglyphs, which looked similar to astrological and zodiac symbols from the man’s world. Each word of this language held power related to its meaning, and assembling those words into a sentence or phrase would create a spell, waiting to be used.

What happened as a result of those words largely depended on the magician’s intention, but as long as you memorized the Elder Tongue, in theory you could use magic to do almost anything.

The book went on to describe that to use the language, you had to put an appropriate amount of magical power into each word. If you got the amount wrong, the spell would fail. In other words, the idea of “overclocking” a spell was mere fantasy. Not that it really mattered to Arcus, who wouldn’t have enough aether for that in the first place. The amount of aether you possessed determined a sorcerer’s staying power.

To sum up, Arcus needed to learn the right words and how to arrange them into spells (that, or knowledge of extant spells), and how much magical power to put into each word.

Alongside his studies of the language they spoke at home, Arcus had also been learning the Elder Tongue, and so he already had a decent understanding of it. When casting a spell, it was important to picture your intention vividly. Thanks to that man’s memories, Arcus now had a whole host of imagery that he could draw on—things he witnessed in real life and in films, comics, and cartoons...

“All that’s left now is aether and spells...” he murmured to himself.

In preparation for the test he had taken, Arcus studied how to control his aether to a certain extent, so that wouldn’t really be an issue. In terms of spells, he just had to learn those that already existed, how to make his own, and how much power was consumed upon casting them. On this front, he was out of leads; he’d bled the book dry.

It wasn’t worth considering asking his parents, and the magic users among the servants likely wouldn’t help him, either. At this point, Arcus would have been well within his rights to give up.

“I’ll make this work.”

The truth was, he had someone in mind who he thought might be willing to help him out.

A few days after Arcus gathered his resolve to become a magician, the Raythefts received a visit.

“Brother.”

“Hey, Joshua. Been a while, huh?”

In the Raythefts’ drawing room stood Arcus’s father, Joshua, and a man who looked much like him, with the same silvery hair. Unlike Joshua, this man had much more of a working-class air about him. His muscular body, browned from the sun, had a few burn marks here and there that spoke of his return from the battlefield.

His name was Craib Abend, and he was Joshua’s elder brother, although he had absconded from the Raytheft estate years ago.

The reason for his defection was to do with his aether.

When it came to choosing an heir for the Raytheft name, Joshua had been chosen, simply because he had more aether than his brother. Craib quarreled with Arcus’s grandfather about it, which eventually led to his decision to leave.

He could still show his face to the head of the Raytheft estate and still be considered that man’s brother for one reason. Craib had studied and worked incredibly hard in exile. When he came back to fight in the war, he achieved success after success, eventually receiving an important office within the military from the king. His true strength ended up far exceeding his brother’s talent in the Arts. As a baron, Joshua still outranked Craib among the gentry, but within the military, their roles were reversed.

Craib didn’t associate much with the Raythefts, but he dropped by when he was moving between military posts, just to check in on his family.

“Hey, Arcus! How’re you doing?” Craib grinned as he spotted his nephew.

“I am well, thank you. It has been a long time. I am glad to see you are well, too,” Arcus replied.

“Since when did you speak so much like a grown-up, huh? Is this what they’re teaching you in those fancy ‘heir’ classes?” Craib let out a hearty laugh, apparently overjoyed to see his nephew maturing so fast.

Arcus’s uncle was always so open and straightforward; Arcus found him very approachable. Joshua, however, did not look so pleased.

“Arcus is no longer the heir to the Raytheft estate.”

There was a pause.

“What?!” Craib’s eyes widened in surprise.

“His aether is far too low for our standards. Lecia shall be taking his position as heir,” Joshua explained.

Lecia, who was sitting next to her father, shot an anxious glance at Arcus. He couldn’t blame her; she was put in an extremely awkward position. Suddenly, Craib narrowed his eyes.

“Don’t tell me that’s why you ain’t letting him sit on the couch?”

“That is indeed why,” came the response.

Arcus alone was being made to stand behind the rest of the family as they sat, on Joshua’s orders. Though his father was treating Arcus like a servant, he likely saw him as even less than that. Craib’s expression crumpled into a frown.

“Look, even if he ain’t got that much power, don’t you think it’s kinda early to be making that decision? He could still have potential, y’know.”

“Please,” Joshua scoffed. “You should know more than anybody that aether doesn’t increase over time.”

Craib let out an exaggerated sigh before turning his frustrated gaze back toward Joshua.

“You remember what Dad said to us before he died, right?”

It seemed he struck a nerve.

“Things are different now!” Joshua protested. “The fact is that the boy simply hasn’t enough aether to be worthy to lead the house!”

“Hey! That ‘boy’ is your son! At least treat him like your own flesh and blood!” Craib shouted, raising his voice to a level above Joshua’s.

“He is no longer the heir; therefore, he is no longer my son! The moment his lack of power was established, he became a worthless mutt!”

It was like a frigid wind swept through the room. Arcus nearly shivered. Joshua swallowed, clearly panicked, and Arcus put together that Craib’s anger was the source of that tension.

“I can’t believe you’re saying this in front of your own son,” Craib muttered darkly.

“Wh-Why shouldn’t I? Such a talentless creature is of no use to the House of Raytheft.”

“So you ended up like our piece of crap dad after all,” Craib spat.

He wasn’t just looking at Joshua now, either, but Celine too. Having played her own part in disowning Arcus’, she cast her gaze away. Neither of them able to look him in the eye, and the servants shivering behind them, Craib started to calm. He turned to look at Arcus sympathetically.

“C’mon. The kid’s only six years old.”

“We are a family known for our military prowess. If we must cut a member out to protect that family, we should not hesitate.”

“You’re gonna say that in front of him, too. You must be crazy,” Craib said, exasperated.

This was Arcus’s chance.

“Uncle,” he began. “Uncle, I have a favor to ask of you.”

“What’s up?”

“I would like you to teach me about magic.”

“Ar-Arcus! Y-You little...”

Joshua scowled at his son; Arcus met his gaze head-on. There was nothing to be scared of anymore. He let out all the tears he could spare days ago. His parents could glare at him and hit him all they liked, but he swore he would never let them make him cry ever again. From now on, he was prepared to stand up against them.

Craib stared at Arcus, taken aback by his words.

“Are you sure, Arcus?”

“Yes. I am sure.”

He was doing the right thing. In fact, this was all he could do. In getting so angry on his behalf, Craib proved Arcus could trust him.

Arcus nodded, watching as the confusion in Craib’s eyes turned to admiration. It didn’t take long for Joshua to interject.

“Stop right there!” he shouted. “How dare you ridicule the name of Raytheft like this?!”

“That is not my intention. In fact, I am doing this for the family.”

Arcus’s unexpected words and nonchalant tone merely provoked Joshua’s rage further.

“What utter nonsense!”

“If I prove that I have talent, then there should be no reason for the family to be ashamed of me. Am I wrong?”

Arcus was doing his very best to take a dig at Joshua. That he was doing so in front of Craib, who had already proven himself worthy, made his words all the more effective. Just as Arcus expected, the venom in his father’s gaze increased. In terms of his position within the family, Arcus could fall no lower, and so there was no way to make him regret this. He no longer cared how much his father came to hate him.

“Why, you...” Joshua began, but Craib interrupted him with a hearty laugh.

“C’mon, Joshua! It’s too early to decide he’s gonna shame the family! Or are you saying I showed you and Dad up, just ’cause I made something outta my life?”

“Brother!” Joshua’s face turned red as hot iron at Craib’s barb.

Craib stuck his tongue out at his brother as he raged.

“Okay, Arcus! I’ll teach ya! You’ll be a fine magician once I’m done with you!”

And that was how Arcus’s uncle, Craib Abend, became his magic teacher.

The following day, Craib took Arcus to his home in the royal capital. There in the garden, he began a magical demonstration.

Craib stood in front of Arcus, a bandana wrapped around his silver hair and his military jacket hung over his short-sleeved shirt. His tanned, muscular arms were folded in front of his chest. He looked much more like a fighter than any sort of magician, but despite his appearance, he was known across the land as a scholar of magic—not that he wasn’t also a fine man-at-arms.

“First I wanna see how much you already know,” Craib began.

“Yes, sir!”

“You got spunk! I like it!” Craib grinned.

“Right! I’m determined to show Mother and Father that they misjudged me!” Arcus declared.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Craib let out a hearty laugh. “Now, how much of the basics of magic do you know?”

“According to my readings, to use magic you need to know both artglyphs and the Elder Tongue. You use those to create a spell, which you then recite and imbue with your magical power.”

“Yup. You hit the nail on the head. Now, what do you need to learn artglyphs and their language?”

“A dictionary,” Arcus replied.

“That’s enough to brush up on them,” Craib agreed, “but just that won’t do if you’re serious about becoming a magician.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Arcus was shocked. All he used in his studies at home was a dictionary, and so he thought that would be enough. He was starting to realize that his knowledge of magic still barely scratched the surface of what there was to learn.

“You’ll be needing one of these.” Putting his hand into a bag he’d come prepared with, Craib pulled out one of the thickest books Arcus had ever seen. Arcus gawked at it.

“These are the Ancient Chronicles. The Birth of Heaven and Earth documents the creation of the earth and sky. The Spiritual Age is a record of the time when spirits wandered Earth. The Prophecy of Shadows predicts the entire history and future of this world. Documenting the Stars describes a scholar’s life as he follows the sky and the movements of the planets. The Magician’s Elegy speaks about civilization as it was when magic flourished, and then there’s Demons and Society’s Collapse. That one’s about the four powerful demons who will come and destroy the world—it’s got the Song of Destruction in it. They say the entirety of the Elder Tongue is recorded in these six titles, but...”

“But?” Arcus prompted.

“No one actually knows if every last word is written in them. There’s no one who can actually read them all anyway,” Craib explained.

“Not even you?”

“Not even me. ’Specially The Prophecy of Shadows.” Craib grinned. “I have no clue what the author’s on about.”

“So these are the six books you should use to study the Language of the Ancient Arts?” Arcus asked.

“Yup. Just learning words and phrases ain’t enough. If you don’t understand where those words came from or how to use them, there’s no way you’re gonna tap into their power. That’s why reading the Chronicles is the best way to wrap your head around the language. And you gotta, if you wanna become a real magician.”

“All right.” Arcus took the book from his uncle.

“This is just one volume, by the way. There’s a ton more to it; I’ll get one of my servants to get the rest later.”

“But this one alone is so thick...” Arcus grimaced as he thought about just how much reading he was going to need to do.

All of a sudden, Craib’s expression became serious.

“Listen, Arcus. These Chronicles aren’t just any old stories. People have been studying this language for ages before you and I were born. There are still tons of characters we don’t know how to sound out, or what they mean. Even if you can read it, there’s a lot that’s gonna just sound like nonsense, and sometimes you won’t have a clue what it’s supposed to be about.”

“Supposing I was able to decipher the entire thing?” Arcus asked curiously.

“Your name would go down in history. But you wanna be able to walk before you run,” Craib added.

Perhaps that would be true under normal circumstances, but Arcus had access to a whole wealth of understanding that everyone in this world had yet to achieve, thanks to his dream.

Before I get too far ahead of myself, though, I’ll need to learn those glyphs. And it doesn’t look like it’s going to be easy...

Deciding he would just have to take his time with it, Arcus returned his attention to Craib.

“So, on the one hand, you’ve got your language to learn. What else have you gotta learn along with that?” Craib asked.

“How to control my aether?”

“Yup! You got it. I see you’ve done your homework.” Craib broke into a smile at Arcus’s instant response.

Magic consumed the caster’s aether in order to create a specific effect, but just reciting the spell wouldn’t automatically consume it; instead, you had to prepare the right amount of power beforehand. This meant you had to learn to regulate your aether so that you could put just the right amount into each spell.

“You’ve already learned how to control your own power, right?” Craib asked.

“Yes, sir,” replied Arcus.

“All right. But just in case, I’m gonna start from the basics. Magic feels like warm water flowing through your body. If you learn to control it, it means you can manipulate it, focus it, split it up into parts, or send it outside your body.”

Arcus closed his eyes and focused on the sensation inside him. He could feel it deep within his belly as a warm, shapeless glow, neither liquid nor vapor.

“Whenever you’re not doing anything else, you should practice moving that power around your body. If you keep that up, soon you’ll be able to move it as easily as your arms and legs,” said Craib.

“Yes, sir.”

“Your goal should be to be able to move that power even when you’re doing simple physical tasks. Then you’ll be able to keep it up for days on end.”

Arcus nodded. The way Craib was speaking right now told him that this point in particular was very important.

“By the way, once you get good at this, you’ll be able to feel magic from places outside your own body,” Craib added.

“Really?”

“Yep. And I was the one who discovered it! Whaddya think of that, huh?” Craib puffed out his broad chest proudly before bursting out into embarrassed laughter. “As you probably know, I left the Raytheft house and passed the heirship over to Joshua. Everyone mocked me for it, and I hated that, so I went on a journey to look for ways I could increase my aether.”

Arcus nodded. “I have heard as much.”

“I tried all kinds of stuff. Ate all kinds of foods that were s’posed to increase your magic, practiced magic as much as I could before my body gave out to raise my stamina... But none of that worked. What I did learn, though, was how to detect the presence of magic.”

Craib seemed proud of his discovery. Arcus had never read anything about detecting magic before, so it was likely his uncle was the first to discover it. He had every reason to be proud. But that wasn’t all.

“You realized what that means yet?”

“Yes, sir. If you can detect the presence of magic, then you should be able to track the location of humans and other creatures that use it.”

“Bingo. ’Cause humans, demons, monsters, and things like that all have magic inside them.”

“Can you also tell how many of them there are?” Arcus asked.

“Yeah, ’course.”

It sounded like a very useful skill indeed, especially in a situation where you wanted to keep clear of anything hostile.

“It’ll take some time before you’re at that level, though. But it’s a pretty handy skill! If you start working on that now, you’ll learn before you know it!” Suddenly, Craib grinned. “Joshua can’t do it, y’know.”

In other words, just by learning how to detect magic, Arcus would have already surpassed his father.

“Does that mean you never told him about it?” asked Arcus.

“You really think I go around shoutin’ about my secret techniques? Nah. He might be my brother, but he hasn’t earned it.”

“You two really don’t get along well, do you?”

“We used to. But whatever, I’ll tell you about that another time.” Craib patted Arcus on the head. “Anyway! Time to show you some real magic!”

“Yes, sir!” Arcus responded eagerly, raising his hands in the air. He was waiting for this.

“It’ll be good for you to see some real magic in action. If you wanna be a top magician, it’s vital to have models to reference at the image-forming stage.”

“Is that something you learned on your travels too?”

“You know it! I wouldn’t be who I am today without all the magic I saw in all sorts of different places.” Again, Craib puffed out his chest. “Arcus. You ever seen real magic before?”

“Only the once,” Arcus replied, “and not since then.”

“Gotcha. Then I’ll start with psychokinesis, since that’s pretty basic.”

Picking up a stone from the ground, Craib launched it through the air. The stone rolled along the ground before losing all its momentum and coming to a stop on the lawn. Craib raised his hand toward it.

“Guide the object according to my will.”

Craib recited the spell in the Elder Tongue. Luminous artglyphs rose up around him.

The stone began to float.

“It’s moving!” Arcus cried.

“This is psychokinesis,” Craib explained. “It lets you move objects wherever you want.”

Craib steered the stone around a while before finally allowing it to rest. The artglyphs formed by his words broke down and scattered into the air. For a time, their light remained, but soon that too was gone.

“This is a simple spell that you’ll find in any book. You know that you don’t have to copy my spell word for word, right?”

“As long as my words mean that I want it to move, my spell will have the same effect, yes?” Arcus said.

“That’s it. You can’t just stick any old words together, though. You gotta be careful with it, or the words might fight back or contradict each other, and you won’t be able to do anything at all. You have a lot of freedom when it comes to the words you use, but you still gotta make sure they’re the right ones. For example...”

Craib cleared his throat, ready to recite another spell.

“Allow me to use my will to move the object as I please.”

Just as before, the artglyphs appeared, and the stone floated into the air before coming to a stop.

“Wow!” Arcus’s excitement grew by the second.

“See? Remember that spells are something you can build yourself.”

“That was really impressive!” Arcus exclaimed.

In all the books he read in the man’s world, magic tended to be activated by very specific sets of words. The prospect of having absolute freedom to create your own spells made Arcus’s heart race. It spoke to the inborn human impulse to tinker.

“I gotta warn you now; we’re learning the absolute basics right now.”

“Yes, sir!”

Craib pulled out another book from his bag.

“This one’s all about your fundamentals. Make sure you read it, but promise me you won’t try and use any of it yet, ’kay?”

“Okay.”

At this point, trying to recreate anything would most likely lead to some sort of accident. Arcus could understand that, and he would hate to disappoint his uncle just because he was curious to try something out.

Craib continued to demonstrate different kinds of magic for Arcus.

“Uncle, I have a question,” Arcus piped up after a while.

“Shoot. Ask me anything you want.”

“Is there any way to know exactly how much aether you have to put into each spell?”

Since the necessary aether depended on the words or phrases you used, Arcus couldn’t help but wonder whether each word needed a set amount of magic when you used it in a spell. If there was a way to measure that beforehand, it would be invaluable.

He should be so lucky.

“Nope. You just gotta feel it.”

“Feel it?” Arcus echoed.

“Yup. It’s all about intuition.”

The vagueness of Craib’s response disappointed Arcus. He was sure there would be some way to accurately gauge how much aether each word called for, but it seemed that wasn’t the case.

“It’s impossible to say how much magic you gotta put into each word. You get why, right? You can’t see magic with your eyes, and it’s not a physical thing either, so it’s not like you can measure it.”

“But then how are you supposed to remember the right amounts for each spell?” Arcus objected.

“Like I said, you just gotta trust your gut. Also, you start by just trying out the spell again and again, and eventually you’ll work out how much power you need.”

However, his answer still didn’t satisfy Arcus.

“B-But if you have no specific amount to guide you, doesn’t that just mean that you’ll end up miscalculating the aether you need on each repeated attempt?”

“Miscalculating, huh? You sure know some fancy words.” Craib smiled. “But yeah, you’re right. That’s why magic’s all about training.”

So there really wasn’t a way to measure aether accurately. A part of Arcus suspected as much; after all, if such a method existed, his aether wouldn’t have been tested by something as primitive as creating ripples on water.

Deep in thought, there was a slight pause before Arcus realized that Craib was studying him with an unreadable expression.

“Is something wrong?” he asked his uncle.

“I wouldn’t say ‘wrong,’ but... Y’know, I noticed this yesterday too, but you really don’t talk like a normal six-year-old. It’s like you’re too... fluent. Or too confident. I dunno.”

“O-Oh, really?! That’s just... It must be the result of my studies!” Arcus was under the impression that speaking more loudly would make his statement more convincing.

His fluent speech and speed at picking up new vocabulary was, of course, a result of what he’d learned through that man’s memories. He always had to memorize new words when he was receiving his heir’s education, but now he found it much easier to actually put them to use. Before he knew it, he was able to speak at length without even needing to pause for breath.

“Yeah... I guess that makes sense.” There was a hint of pity in Craib’s eyes. The next moment, he placed his large hands firmly on Arcus’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, Arcus. I ain’t gonna let all that hard work of yours go to waste. We’ll get you up to scratch on magic, I swear!”

“Oh, um... thank you.” Arcus wasn’t sure what else he could say under his uncle’s intense gaze.

Apparently, he had given Craib a false impression. It seemed he thought his family had forced him to study day and night.

Still, I’m very lucky to have a kindhearted uncle like him around.

Arcus genuinely thought so, especially when considering what the rest of his family was like. He found hope rising in his chest: hope that he would be able to master magic like he wanted to. So long as he didn’t dwell on never knowing for sure how much power he would need.

Even though Craib was teaching Arcus magic now, it wasn’t like he could be by his side at every hour of the day. Thanks to his scholarly and military work, and the fact that he held his own territory (small though it was), he was actually fairly busy most of the time. Instead of teaching him directly, he would give Arcus assignments to do at home before catching up with him in his spare moments.

Arcus worked hard on these assignments daily. Today, he was reading an old grimoire he had borrowed from Craib’s library. He was chasing some hint of how someone might increase their aether. In the stories told in that man’s world, magic power increased the more you used it, but that wasn’t the case here. In this world, aether was set from the day you were born, and it wasn’t thought that there was anything you could do about it.

Craib had once followed this same line of inquiry that Arcus now pursued and apparently found nothing of use, so Arcus didn’t hold out much hope himself. Even then, he felt he had to check. With the knowledge from his dream, there might be something he would spot that Craib couldn’t.

He wasn’t having any luck. The book mentioned nothing on increasing your power, merely listing ways your power could manifest once you learned to control it, among other similarly unhelpful things. Not only that, but the last few sections of the book were so complex that not even Craib was able to understand them. For example, he had just come to a section about kneading one’s magic. Craib had this to say about that section:

“Oh, yeah. I don’t really have a clue about this part.”

Craib himself had done as the book said, manipulating the magic inside his body and working hard to build it into something greater, but he never had any success with it. In the first place, he wasn’t quite sure what the book meant by “knead.”

“Knead? I mean, what the hell is that supposed to mean, right?” Craib had remarked.

It was a fair point. Were you supposed to push into your aether like clay? Or was it more of a folding action? In the man’s world, there were machines for that sort of thing. Surely you wouldn’t need something like that?

Arcus was having a hard time wrapping his head around the word.

“Perhaps I should just give it a try.”

He wouldn’t get anywhere just by thinking about it, after all. Just as Craib told him to, Arcus had been moving his aether around his body on a daily basis, splitting it up and putting it back together again; he was starting to get quite good at it. If kneading was just an extension of that, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to try it out.

“Knead... knead... knead...”

Arcus focused, folding his power over itself, kneading and pressing into it over and over again. It was only after he had been at it for a few hours that he realized something.

“Is my power... decreasing?”

As he kneaded, it felt like his power was ebbing away, little by little. Just moving magic around inside your body shouldn’t consume it, but Arcus was sure he had less now than when he started this exercise.

“I shall keep kneading,” he decided.

Some sort of change was happening within him, which meant he was making progress. He continued to knead, hoping he might discover something new in the process. However...

“U-Uh-oh! I must have exerted myself a bit too much...”

Arcus kept going until it felt like there was barely any magic left inside him at all. When he started, his magic was pleasantly warm—like freshly-drawn bathwater—but now it burned like steam. Not only that, but he felt more resistance as he tried to manipulate it now. It had been so easy at the start, but now the magic seemed to settle inside him like a boulder.

Arcus briefly considered casting a spell.

“No, I can’t do that... Especially not indoors.”

In its current state, his magic would likely need a forceful way out—and that risked a shockwave. Not only that, but this sensation was entirely new to him. If his inexperience led him to release it clumsily, he could end up destroying his entire bedroom.

Yet, if he didn’t release it now, that burning weight was just going to sit there until he did, or until it found its own way out. Arcus was starting to get nervous.

“I’ll work it out later.”

He decided he would leave the dangerous power he had created inside him. If he didn’t focus on it, he wouldn’t feel the burning. If he left it alone, it would probably cool down. He hoped so, at least.

He hoped, but he suspected it wouldn’t be that simple, either. People had researched magic for hundreds of years before he was born, but Arcus was just a six-year-old boy. It wasn’t like he was going to be able to discover anything new based on a passing whim. Increasing your own aether was one of the biggest roadblocks in magic research. Finding the solution wasn’t going to be easy.

Picking up the textbook, Arcus left his room. As he did so, he was unlucky enough to walk right into Joshua. He stiffened under his father’s icy glare. Ever since Craib started teaching Arcus magic, Joshua’s attitude toward him became colder by an order of magnitude. It seemed the tension between him and his brother was just as complicated as Arcus thought.

Joshua’s gaze dropped to the book in Arcus’s hands.

“Studying magic?”

“Yes.”

Joshua clicked his tongue.

“Studying shan’t get you the inheritance back,” he remarked irritably.

“I never wanted the inheritance,” Arcus replied.

“Nor does it matter how much you learn from my brother!” Joshua barked. “Your magic levels will remain pitifully low!”

“Magic levels are not the be-all and end-all of a good magician,” Arcus informed him, remaining cool against the fire of Joshua’s anger.

The next moment, he felt a sharp pain across his face. Joshua had hit him. The next thing he knew, Arcus’s head slammed against the corridor wall, and the metallic taste of blood spread across his tongue. He must have cut his mouth.

“You are nothing but a nuisance!” Joshua spat, enraged.

His father no longer felt the sadness of a parent who had lost their son. If he had, he wouldn’t be able to treat the child who shared his blood so horrifically. Wrath was all that consumed him now.

For a while, Arcus stared at the floor in silence. Eventually, having lost interest, Joshua left him there. Arcus put his hand to his cheek and stood up. It was then that he noticed Lecia’s head poking around one corner of the corridor. Her eyes shone with anxiety. She must have seen the whole thing.

“B-Brother...”

“Lecia.”

Lecia checked if the coast was clear before racing up to Arcus.

“Are you okay, Brother?” she asked.

“I’m fine. This is nothing.” Arcus smiled reassuringly at her, but Lecia dropped her gaze to the floor.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Arcus asked.

“It’s ’cause of me that Mother and Father are being so mean to you and hitting you and stuff...” Lecia’s shoulders shook like she was about to burst into tears.

“Lecia, none of this is your fault.”

“Y-Yeah, it is, ’cause... ’cause I’m gonna be the heir instead of you! I stole it from you!”

It seemed Lecia was under the impression that this was her fault.

“No, Lecia,” Arcus told her. “It is my fault.”

“No it’s not! It’s not!” Lecia wailed, unable to hold her tears back any longer.

Arcus waited patiently for her to calm down. Eventually, her wails became a series of intermittent sobs.

“Brother... why can’t everyone just get along like we used to? I wanna play with you.”

“I don’t know, Lecia. But it would be nice.”

That was impossible now. Much as he agreed with Lecia that families should get along, Arcus’s relationship with his parents was damaged beyond repair.

In the man’s youth, his parents fought, and he had felt much the same way as Lecia probably did now. It was natural for children to want their parents to get along, and to treat their family with kindness.

It shouldn’t have been too much to ask. But Lecia’s wish would never come true, and it was all their parents’ fault. It was their fault for not seeing their children’s worth beyond their natural talents. It was their fault that Lecia was crying now.

It was enough to make Arcus’s blood boil. Proving his parents wrong was no longer enough. Eventually, he would have to settle things properly. There was no other way to do that than to wipe the Raytheft name from the face of the earth.

“Brother?”

“There’s no need to cry. I’ll play with you, okay?” Arcus said.

“Really?”

“Of course.” Taking Lecia’s hand, Arcus led her to his room.

After the two of them played for a while, Lecia spoke up.

“Is it okay if I come to your room sometimes?” she asked.

“As long as you’re careful Mother and Father don’t see you,” warned Arcus.

“’Kay! I promise!” Lecia beamed at him.

That smile alone was enough to wipe away the pain from Joshua’s assault.

It had been two years since Craib started teaching Arcus magic.

Arcus was now eight years old. He had grown more than four extra inches (to borrow the unit from that man’s world) and was now of more or less average height for his world. That was all well and good, but there was just one problem.

“My face is far too feminine...” Arcus sighed glumly, rubbing at his cheeks as he studied himself in the mirror.

His features adamantly refused to surrender their baby fat. It wasn’t just his face, either—his unusual silvery hair also gave off a feminine impression. Logically, Arcus knew he was still only eight years old and that the situation would probably improve over time. That didn’t stop the uneasiness from bubbling up inside him every time he saw himself in the mirror.

There was still good news, however. His magical studies were coming along nicely. He had put countless hours into studying the artglyphs and the Elder Tongue and memorizing a fair bit of the characters and vocabulary. Arcus put a lot of his success down to the language skills that carried over from the man’s world.

Magic aside, its laws of nature and physics were very similar to his own. There were quite a few words and phrases that Arcus shouldn’t have been able to understand but was able to work out when he compared them to what he knew from the other world.

Electricity, obscurity, magnetism, nothingness... These were just a handful of the words that helped Arcus’s understanding. The words from that man’s country held nuances other languages lacked, which also worked to Arcus’s advantage. Arcus had been lucky that the man was such a bookworm.

According to Arcus’s uncle, he was at the same level as a student of the Royal Institute of Magic. It wasn’t normal for an eight-year-old to be this far ahead in his studies. Perhaps part of that came from Arcus’s desire to win out over the elder Raythefts. That wasn’t to say he disliked his studies, but the abuse his fall from grace still brought on him spurred him forward like little else.

Arcus still had a long way to go before he could get his revenge on Joshua. He had to keep going if he wanted any chance of being able to show up him and Celine and destroy the dated traditions of the Raytheft house.

As for the use of magic itself, Arcus had become quite good at it. He would practice with Craib in his garden whenever his uncle had time, and it was safe to say that he had more or less mastered the basics. It wasn’t too long ago, on one of these occasions, that he chose to show his uncle what he had learned.

“Okay. Give it a try,” Craib instructed.

“Yes, sir.”

Under Craib’s watchful eye, Arcus carefully portioned out the aether he needed for the words he had in mind.

“Turn the wrath within me to flame. Scorch the skies with your roar and incinerate all in your path as you become a burning arrow.”

The moment the words fell from Arcus’s lips, artglyphs began to float up around him. They slowly twisted themselves into a magic circle, and a spear of flame pierced through its center.

This was an offensive fire spell, Flamlarune. It was a version of the spell Flamrune, which Craib had created to be easier to use.

The spear of flames shot from the center of the circle, hitting its target and setting it ablaze. Once the flames burned out, they transformed into artglyphs before dissolving into the air.

“Nice! That was awesome!”

“Thank you,” Arcus replied, bowing his head at Craib’s praise.

It took Arcus a long time to work out how much aether and what kind he needed to put into that spell, but after practicing it over and over, he finally had it down. There was still something that bothered him, though.

It’s just far too inefficient.

It was the lack of numbers that gave Arcus the most trouble. Sure, he had gotten used to feeling out how much aether he needed, and according to Craib, that was the only way to do it. But no matter how many times he repeated that, Arcus found it difficult to accept. If he could only measure it, he would be able to use each spell as effectively as possible.

He felt a rough hand ruffling his hair. Arcus looked up at Craib curiously.

“I can’t believe you’re already using Flamlarune! And you’re only eight! You know this’d mean you’re war-ready, right?”

“R-Really?” Arcus asked.

“Yep! Wanna come join me on the front line next time?”

“If... If you think I’m ready...”

“I was just kiddin’!” Craib let out a roaring laugh.

“Ha... ha...” Arcus’s lips twitched into a hesitant smile of their own.

He wasn’t quite sure he approved of how casually Craib spoke of war, like he was inviting Arcus to a picnic.

It was true that this level of magic would likely qualify Arcus to fight out on the battlefield. Firearms did not exist here. Not only that, but nobles and royal heirs were often made to fight at a very young age, so you couldn’t blame Arcus for not being able to tell whether Craib was joking or not.

I shall probably have to go eventually...

The situation in this world was much less stable compared to the world Arcus dreamed of. Nations scuffled with each other over the smallest of issues, and even lords who served the same king often squabbled. The situation could change overnight. As a citizen, you had to be ready for your country to go to war at all times.

Aside from spell practice, there was something else that Arcus worked on in Craib’s garden with him. He was learning about the art of seals. With the right tools, you could carve out a spell on an object to give it a magical effect. It was a very useful art; it filled many of the same niches as the other world’s infrastructure and consumer electronics. You didn’t need to cast a spell for those objects to work, so it was widely used by both magicians and non-magicians alike.

One popular use of seals was to create a Sol Glass, which was a piece of lighting equipment often placed in and around the home. You could also make objects that created fire, similar to lighters from the man’s world. Seals could even be engraved on weapons, creating a special class of prohibitively expensive “Seal Arms.”

Arcus started learning about seals not only to further his studies, but so that he could earn his own money. It was Craib who initially suggested the idea: Arcus would engrave seals and sell the finished work to wholesalers. The financial incentive would also help Arcus increase his skills; after all, since he was selling these items, he couldn’t be lackadaisical about his technique. Still, at the moment, Arcus was only working on very small objects. At first, he couldn’t engrave as neatly as he needed to, and his results were dubious to say the least. Thanks to his enduring practice, he had now become much better at it.

Taking up his carving tools, today Arcus was working on carving out a new set of artglyphs.

If I make this part more solid, it will also become more brittle... but I can’t use the word “tenacity” here, either...

The reason Arcus hesitated was that there weren’t many words he could use together with “tenacity,” a word he had learned from his dream. Tenacity would imbue the object with both strength and firmness. Arcus could not think of a more effective choice, but the stronger the word, the larger the influence it had over the words it was combined with.

This was one of the trickier aspects of spellcraft. Powerful words had a strong influence over the other words in the spell, and if you didn’t pay the utmost care and attention, your spell could end up having unintended effects. To optimize a spell, powerful words had to be tempered with words that limited their effect and bent them to the caster’s will. Getting the balance perfect required lots and lots of trial and error.

There were some related to fire which were very rarely used, since they were simply too overwhelming. Civilization had yet to discover any words related to lightning magic. Other words, like “annihilation” and “maelstrom,” could drain away the caster’s life and create disasters on a scale that threatened nations.

Arcus kept engraving away until he realized he was out of materials.

“Ah. I must have used it all up already.”

To engrave seals, you needed a small knife and a substance called Sorcerer’s Silver. It was created by infusing silver with specially cultivated aether and had very similar properties to mercury. Mixing it with pigment and metal powder and applying it to the tip of your blade as you carved was what gave the seals their effects. Without the Sorcerer’s Silver, you were merely drawing useless shapes into an object.

“Time to visit the shops.”

Putting his project on hold, Arcus made preparations to go out.

It was common knowledge that letting children of the gentry—especially very young ones—wander outdoors was a bad idea, but nobody said a word when Arcus walked straight out of the Raytheft estate.

Now and again he ran into Joshua when he went out. He would usually just glare at Arcus and otherwise leave him alone. Apparently, he thought Arcus was fixated on ignoring him.

Arcus resided in the kingdom of Lainur, an absolute monarchy positioned right in the middle of a large continent. Its achievements in the aetheric arts outstripped its neighbors, and the capital prided itself on its Magician’s Guild, which protected the rights and social status of magicians, as well as the Royal Institute of Magic, which oversaw magical education within the country.

Thanks to its culture of supremacy through magic, Lainur hung on despite its small size and the military might of the Gillis Empire in the northwest. The way the capital itself had evolved was impressive, too. Not nearly as impressive as the cities in the man’s world, but the roads were paved with stone, and most of the brick-and-stone buildings were three or four stories high. Their roofs, too, were a sight to behold for their eclectic colors. Sol Glasses were set outside the storefronts along the main street, illuminating the city even at night.

Leaving the noble district behind, Arcus set out for the main street, his bag swinging from his shoulder. Crowds bustled around the city, another sign of the kingdom’s effective governance. Personally, Arcus rather liked the idea of the governments he had learned about from the man’s world, but he couldn’t deny that a monarchy like this one kept the country stable.

The street was lined with inns, private general stores, chain stores, and arms dealers, just as described in the books from the man’s world. Since the road was so wide, there was space for the stalls hawking street food scattered about. There was a bookstore, too, which sold everything from novels and technical books to magic magazines, textbooks, and spellbooks. There was as much variety among the most popular magic magazines as fashion magazines, and they were a common purchase among magicians and apprentices alike. It didn’t seem to be selling anything of use to Arcus.

As he peered into the store, he spotted a man in a cloak staring at the books and muttering to himself. His face had the gaunt cast of a man denied too much sleep, and he reminded Arcus of the students from the man’s world, who would stay up studying until dawn the night before an important exam. He was staring so intensely at the books that Arcus was surprised they hadn’t caught on fire yet. He must have been a student at the Royal Institute.

While government positions like military or public office were typically reserved for nobles. Positions that required an aptitude for magic were a different matter, and so even civilians were hired into these roles out of necessity.

This was partly why Lainur’s education system was built on earning qualifications. There were two exams a magician could take. One was the Guild’s Certificate of Sorcery Education, and the other was the National Diploma of Sorcery. Either of these was required for a sorcery-related job in Lainur. The man perusing the books was likely studying to pass one of these exams.

Arcus heard that the National Diploma of Sorcery was particularly challenging. It had been twenty years since these two exams came into existence, and while more than a hundred people passed the Guild’s exam annually, the national exam had only eleven successful examinees to date, which spoke volumes about its difficulty.

The bookstore wasn’t what Arcus was after. Leaving it behind, he headed toward his true goal, thoughts about his future with those exams lingering. It wasn’t long before he arrived at his destination: a large store which he was already very familiar with. His first time here was with Craib, who introduced him to the owner and some of the clerks. Now when he came alone, they welcomed him like any other customer, despite his age.

“Hello?” Arcus announced his arrival as he pushed open the door.

He was immediately greeted by a smiling clerk, and one he had met before: a short, stout man with slitted eyes.

“Ah, Arcus! Welcome! What can I help you with today?”

“I’ve come to purchase some Sorcerer’s Silver,” Arcus replied.

“Sorcerer’s Silver, is it? I will get you some immediately.”

“Oh! And I would like some green pigment too, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course,” said the clerk, asking one of his colleagues to procure the goods.

Color choice was an important factor when engraving a spell, and each spell had a different compatibility with different colors. Gold, cinnabar, copper, and especially royal blue were among the most expensive and correspondingly were said to have a stronger effect on the engraved spell.

It wasn’t long until the clerk returned with Arcus’s items.

“Here you are: Sorcerer’s Silver and green pigment. Will that be all today?”

“Yes, please,” replied Arcus.

Taking Arcus’s payment with a smile, the clerk thanked him cheerfully for his patronage.

Arcus wandered the city a while longer but eventually decided to call it a day. Just as he was about to make his way home...

“Stop it! Stay away from me!”

It sounded like a young girl, and one in trouble, judging by her tone of voice. Arcus searched the area for the source, leading him to a backstreet.

Should I go and get a guard? Arcus thought to himself. It might just have been a scuffle between children. Shrieking children weren’t hard to come by in the plaza. Backstreets, however, were a different matter...

Although I’m just a child myself.

If Arcus didn’t share that man’s memories, he probably wouldn’t be making such a big deal of this situation. In the end, he decided to step into the backstreet and find out what was going on. He was confident he could fall back on his magic to defend himself, even from an adult.

It was just as he was investigating the street that a girl dashed from the entrance to an alleyway right next to him. He found himself gasping in surprise as the girl let out a small shriek. He stumbled backward, only just avoiding her crashing into him. Though the girl lost her balance, she killed her momentum by spinning around on the spot before righting herself. Arcus was impressed with her agility.

She looked to be around the same age as Arcus. She had long black hair that flowed down the back of her white cloak, a pretty face, and deep-blue eyes.

Arcus could hear the whispers of men coming from behind her. He strained his ears to listen.

“Where did she go?”

“This way! Come on!”

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the girl was being chased.

“H-Hey, I’m... I mean...” The girl spoke up, but she was having trouble forming a coherent sentence. Arcus assumed she was trying to ask for help.

“This way!”

He wasted no time in grabbing her arm and pulled her back into the alleyway. Peering around the corner, two shabby-looking men eventually came into view.

The men picked the street over for a trace of the girl, but after a while, they gave up and started to head in a different direction. The girl let out a sigh of relief.

“Thanks. You saved me.”

“You’re very welcome. May I ask who those men were?” Arcus replied.

“I’m not sure. I was just walking along when they surrounded me... and when I ran away, they chased after me. Even when I ran into the alleyway, they were right behind me! You’d think they’d give up sooner than that!” The girl became more and more animated as she recited her tale.

“They sound like kidnappers or something to me,” Arcus remarked.

“Uh-huh. Probably.”

“We should take this opportunity to return to—”

“Hold on.” The girl interrupted Arcus mid-sentence. He looked up at her to see she’d pressed her finger to his lips.

Arcus fell silent, careful to keep his breathing quiet. He heard footsteps. It seemed the girl had a good pair of ears on her.

“This way,” the girl whispered, pointing deeper down the alleyway.

The two of them walked heel-toe further down the alley. Following the dimly lit path, they made for an adjoining alleyway. The footsteps of their pursuers grew steadily louder. The pair continued in search of a way out of the labyrinth of backstreets.

“A dead end!” the girl gasped. “What do we do now?”

They were surrounded on three sides by high stone walls. The only way out was to turn around. Perhaps pulling the girl back into the alleyway was a mistake.

“Sorry. This is my fault,” Arcus admitted.

“That’s not true,” objected the girl.

The two of them didn’t have the time to work out their next step before one of the men appeared. He wasn’t one of the two in shabby clothing they had seen before. He wore a dark brown cloak, and there was an air of exhaustion around him. In terms of looks... it would probably be nicer not to say anything at all.

The girl took a step forward, a determined glint in her eye.

“How did you know we were here?” she demanded.

“Just kept lookin’ till I found ya, didn’t I?” The man let out an unpleasant, screechy laugh.

He had found them unusually quickly, regardless of the kidnappers’ numbers. It would take unnatural endurance to cover the ground he had in so little time. In other words...

“You’re a magician,” the girl stated.

“Yeah. Y’know, ya coulda done me a favor and not bothered with all that runnin’ about,” the man grumbled.

“This isn’t how you’re supposed to treat children, you know!” the girl informed him. “Why are you chasing me?”

“Just lookin’ to make some cash. With a pretty and intelligent face like yours, I reckon you’d be worth a pretty penny.”

“How dare you!”

“Whatever. Money makes the world go round, y’know. I don’t care what ya think of me, ’slong as I get my cash.” This time, the man set his sights on Arcus, letting out another vulgar laugh. “Ooh, this one’s got a nice face, too! Friend of yours? He’ll make me rich, too. And quick!”

The situation was escalating quickly. Although Arcus was confident in his magic skills, he had never used them in actual combat. Not only that, but he had to protect and create a way out for this girl as well as himself. If he hadn’t been up against a magician, he might have stood a chance. Arcus’s mind whirred, trying to think of a way to get out of this situation. If only he hadn’t pulled the girl into this alleyway.

Magic-users were rare—he had hoped to catch his opponent off guard with a spell or two, but that was a mistake. Now he’d pay for it.

Why did he try to play the hero? He should have just gone to get a guard like he originally planned—a guard, or at the very least an adult. But no amount of regret was going to extract them from this situation.

It was then that Arcus noticed the kidnapper was making no attempt to close the gap. Arcus briefly wondered whether he was planning to use a spell to capture them, but he hadn’t yet made any move.

“Now, how should I do this...” the man wondered aloud. He hadn’t even chosen a spell. Perhaps he wasn’t taking this so seriously after all.

At the very least, he didn’t seem to think Arcus and the girl would be able to fight back. Maybe they could use that to their advantage.

I’ll wait for him to open his mouth... Arcus decided.

It was at that very moment that the man parted his lips to speak an incantation.

“I know! May my power take the form of a rope and punish thee! Moreover—”

The man began to recite his spell. At the same time, Arcus opened his mouth to chant an incantation of his own.

“May my burning tongue incinerate the darkness. Turn my screams of despair into winds of calamitous change. Set forth, and permeate the sky.”

But it wasn’t Arcus’s spell. It was the girl’s. Both Arcus and the kidnapper were taken by surprise, and the kidnapper hadn’t even managed to finish his own spell yet. He stopped his long incantation and made to cast a different spell, but the girl’s magic was already cast.

Artglyphs as orange as the scorching sun rose up in a magic circle as flames burned in the middle. Those flames burst forth, twisting and turning in the air, before diving straight toward the kidnapper.

Arcus watched in awe; this looked like it was a spell of the girl’s own making. Craib mentioned before that there were no children of Arcus’s age who were capable of creating their own spells, but it seemed every rule had its exception.

The kidnapper just barely finished his defensive spell, but because he had rushed, its most important clause was cut short, and the bubble of magic surrounding him now was thin and brittle. Arcus looked on. At first glance, it seemed the girl had the advantage.

Wait... her spell isn’t going to work!

Just as Arcus thought, the flames scattered against the kidnapper’s defensive bubble. It was clear the girl had not expected this development.

“How did that not work?!” she gasped.

“Well I wasn’t expectin’ that!” the man exclaimed with a piercing laugh. “Y’know, I thought your spell didn’t sound familiar. I didn’t know kids these days could make their own little magic tricks!”

“Why didn’t it work?” the girl asked herself, still completely perplexed.

“You chose the wrong expression.” Arcus stepped in with the answer.

“What?”

“Your spell contained the phrase ‘incinerate the darkness,’” Arcus explained. “Darkness. In other words, night. But it’s the middle of the day. Spells inimical to darkness won’t be nearly as effective right now.”

“R-Really?” the girl asked, staring at him.

Arcus nodded. Beside them, the kidnapper let out an intrigued hum.

“Ya know your stuff, kid. But yeah, that’s right. Ya must be educated. Ya don’t see silver hair like that much ’round here, neither.” The kidnapper began to approach the children, who stepped backward.

There was nowhere to run. The three walls of this dead end belonged to three- and four-story buildings. There was no spell in either of their repertoires that would let them clear such a height. Though the girl cast spell after spell to fend off the kidnapper, he blocked every single one. It did seem to be getting on his nerves, at least.

“Hmph! I was hopin’ not to damage the goods, to be honest. But whatever. If I end up disfigurin’ ya, least I can patch ya up with magic later. Now...”

“Wait! We’re just kids!” the girl protested. “Aren’t adults supposed to look out for children?!”

Arcus couldn’t tell whether this was all bluster or not, but she followed up her proclamation by sticking her tongue out at the kidnapper.

“Quiet!” Despite his words, he still didn’t seem to see the two of them as a threat.

After the girl’s attacks, he probably felt he knew the extent of their power now. He didn’t seem particularly impressed. Suddenly, the girl lowered her voice.

“Guess I have no choice...”

She was no longer speaking like a child. Now her tone was cold, cruel, and composed. She had cast off her sweet persona and was now playing a different game.

“I’d cover my ears if I were you,” she warned Arcus.

“What?”

Instead of answering, the girl pulled out a dagger from under her cloak, likely so that she could fend off an attack mid-chant. Arcus could already feel the tremendous excess aether rolling off her in waves. It was enough to give Lecia a run for her money, if not even more than that.

The kidnapper’s face was quickly draining of color. It seemed he had noticed too.

“May the echo of these footsteps ignite the firmament. O, dazzling skies...”

“O-O, ruler of chains, may you leave these evildoers gasping for air and freeze...”

The two of them began to chant at the same time, completely focused on each other. This was Arcus’s chance.

“A greedy man longs to possess as much as he can without discretion. He is hungry even for the specks of dust on the ground. Take this unprejudiced right arm and receive all that it holds.”

“Huh?!”

“What?”

Thinking quickly, Arcus recited his own, shorter spell before the other two could finish theirs.

He raised his right arm above his head. The next moment, artglyphs began to snake around it, pulling in a flood of trash from the alleyway indiscriminately toward them.

Debris, trash, broken plant pots...

Almost immediately, Arcus’s arm was sheathed in junk.

“Whoa!” Instead of finishing her incantation, the girl let out a gasp.

It wasn’t long until Arcus was ready to launch.

“Scrapped Arms!”

“What the...!”

Arcus swung his giant junk-covered arm down. The kidnapper just laughed at him.

“Ya stupid or somethin’? Ya ain’t gonna hit me from all the way over there!”

“In that case, I’ll have to launch a Rocket Punch!”

At that very moment, the junk around Arcus’s arm launched at the kidnapper with the same speed and force as Arcus’s first attack.

“What?! No—”

Caught completely off guard, he had no time to chant a defense. The impromptu missile came apart; its component junk clattered and crashed against the kidnapper, burying him in a pile of garbage.

They had done it. Arcus let out a sigh of relief; suddenly, the girl spoke up. Hurriedly, he tried to stop her.

“We did— Huh?!”

“Don’t say that yet! You’ll jinx it!” he gasped.

A jinx. Arcus should have known more than anybody just how powerful words could be. He managed to stop her, but not before most of the “spell” was already out of her mouth. The two of them stopped still, holding their breath. But it didn’t look like the kidnapper was going to be moving any time soon. Satisfied, Arcus moved his hand away from her mouth.

“What was that for?!” she demanded.

“Listen. Any sort of victory cry after a battle will make the enemy stand right back up again!” Arcus explained.

“What sort of magic is that?” she asked.

“It’s not magic.”

Arcus knew it was all just superstition that he had picked up from the man’s memories, but even then he didn’t want to risk anything.

“Wait a second!” the girl spoke up, as if suddenly remembering something.

“Right,” Arcus agreed, knowing just what she was about to say.

This wasn’t the time for idle chit chat. They had to make sure that the kidnapper was really down. Apparently, Arcus had misjudged the girl’s thoughts; the next second, she was throwing herself at him.

“That spell you cast just now! You know, with all the junk flying to your arm? What was that?! Tell me! C’mon, tell me!”

Arcus stayed silent.

“What’s wrong? Come on! I wanna know! Tell me! Tell me, tell me, tell me!” The girl continued to badger him about his Scrapped Arms, either oblivious or indifferent to his uncomfortable expression.

“I think we have bigger things to worry about than that right now,” he finally said.

“Huh? Why?” She really didn’t seem to have a clue.

“We need to make sure that magician isn’t just playing dead,” Arcus explained.

There was a pause.

“Oh!” The girl let out a belated gasp of realization. Had Arcus’s spell really impressed her so much that she lost all semblance of common sense? Or maybe she just really liked magic. That was probably it.

Once she calmed down, Arcus gave a gentle, experimental kick to the man lying beneath the rubble. There was no movement.

“Are we good?” the girl asked.

“I think so. It would probably be wise to hit him with a binding spell, though.” Arcus glanced back at the girl.

That was all it took. The next second, he found his body being lifted into the air. Arcus could still move his neck to see what had happened; there was the kidnapper, dirtied from the trash. He had his arms around Arcus and was lifting him up from behind.

“Weren’t expectin’ this, huh?” He screeched with glee.

“You rotten—” But the kidnapper put a hand to Arcus’s mouth.

“Uh-uh! I can’t have ya castin’ spells now. Even if you’re just kids, your magic’s kinda too powerful, y’know?”

Arcus writhed, kicking his legs with all the strength he could muster. He was just a kid; there was no way he was going to be able to leave a scratch on a fully-grown adult. The kidnapper didn’t even flinch.

“You guys are a real pain, ya know that? Ugh. I wish I had a better assignment for my first job. I shoulda been more careful...” the man muttered to himself.

Suddenly, the girl cried out.

“Let go of him!”

“Not happenin’. And don’t get any funny ideas, neither. Any magic ya cast could hit him, y’know.”

He was right. Not only that, but there was nothing stopping the kidnapper from launching his own magical attack. They were backed up right into a corner. Arcus tried to think. What could he do? If he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t use magic. Should he leave things to the girl to sort out? But what if she messed up?

Think! Think! Think!

There had to be something. Something he could do. He went through the contents of his bag in his head. His wallet. The Sorcerer’s Silver. The pigment. Nothing that could help him now. What else did he have?

Aether. He still had some left inside him. And it wasn’t just any aether: it was the hot, burning aether from when he practiced kneading. He had held it inside him ever since. Aether was released as waves; if he let it out now, he might be able to make a breakthrough.

He had nothing to lose.

Arcus pushed out his aether with all the force he could muster.

The hot waves that burst out of him were much more powerful than he had expected, like the moment a balloon bursts from being overinflated. It briefly crossed his mind that he wouldn’t come out of this unscathed.

Arcus cried out as he felt himself being launched through the air like a rocket. His kidnapper had been at the opposing end of that explosive force.

He too screamed as he was thrown violently back in the opposite direction.

Arcus managed to get to his feet as he groaned from the pain. Though battered and bruised, he had gotten himself out of danger. He studied the man, but it looked like he really was down for the count now. He was twitching and convulsing but otherwise completely unconscious. The girl, astonishment still written on her face, opened her mouth to speak.

“Was that like... a huge fart or something?” she asked.

“No!” Arcus snapped. “That was aether!”

The fact that the man was thrown back from behind him may have made it look like that, but he still felt it was rude for her to point it out. The girl didn’t seem to notice his irritation as she kept asking questions.

“But aether doesn’t come out that forcefully!”

“Neither do farts!”

“What? Sure they—”

“No, they don’t! And I’d thank you to stop making such embarrassing assertions!”

Once the pair calmed down from their quarrel, they tied the man up before handing him over to one of the guards who patrolled the capital. Apparently, the other men who had been working with him were also apprehended. Questioned about their activities in the backstreets, it wasn’t long until they were arrested.

Arcus and the girl made their way out of the backstreets and toward the city’s central plaza. “Central” was a misnomer; the plaza was a little to the southeast of the castle at the city’s true center.

Roads split off from the plaza to the east, west, and south, meaning that if you wanted to go anywhere in the capital, you would invariably pass this plaza on your way. The ground was paved with a level layer of stone, and a flower clock in the center painted the area with color. Stalls were dotted around, filling the air with lively voices. Street performers and artists took up position in the most conspicuous spots, drawing in crowds of commoners and low-ranking nobles who sought entertainment.

It reminded Arcus of the scenes from medieval Europe he had seen in his dream—noblewomen in dresses carrying parasols, and boys in quilted jackets adorned with lace. He admired just how much attention to detail was paid to the clothing in that world.

Although he would have expected otherwise, in this world, the same kind of ostentatious coats, jackets, blouses, and scarves were also popular. In terms of fashion, there wasn’t much of a gap between the two worlds. Whether noble or commoner, women would wear scarves, and noble boys would wear long, formal jackets.

At first glance, this world didn’t seem very technologically advanced. However, when you took a closer look at the production of glass, spinning of textiles, and construction of buildings, there were many technologies in use that simply didn’t exist in the man’s world. The difference between the worlds in civilization’s evolution was likely due to the existence of magic and seals and the highly-advanced civilization that occupied this world hundreds of years ago.

Arcus and the girl sat down by a flower bed on the edge of the plaza. After they had their breath back, the girl spoke.

“Thanks again. My name’s Sue.”

“You’re very welcome. I’m Arcus Raytheft.”

Sue frowned thoughtfully. The frown became a quizzical gaze.

“The Raythefts are nobles, right?”

“Well... Yes, they are.”

“Huh. So you come from good stock.”

She continued to study him, her curiosity piqued.

“Stop prodding me.”

“But your cheeks are all squishy and soft!”

Not content just with poking them, Sue went on to pinch them. Sure, they were probably soft, but so were any eight-year-old’s. Arcus waited patiently for her to stop.

“Oh!” Sue exclaimed. “You’re a noble, right? Are you gonna set the guards on me for playing with your face?”

“Of course not.”

“No? How about asking me to pay with my body?”

What on earth was she talking about?

“Do you know what that means?” Arcus asked.

“’Course I do! It means you get like, one of my organs or an arm or something, right?”

“The organ trade is not something that should be taken lightly.” Arcus was beginning to get concerned. “Anyway, although I may be of noble blood, you may treat me as you would anyone else.”

“You sure?” Sue asked. She grabbed his hand to shake it. “In that case, it’s nice to meet you!”

Arcus couldn’t tell if it made him embarrassed or just shy. He didn’t really have any friends at the moment, and it was unusual for him to meet children his own age.

At the same time, he couldn’t help but wonder who exactly this girl was. Even if she hadn’t given a surname, it was entirely possible that she came from a wealthy background, especially given her appearance. Her long black hair was well-combed, and her skin was completely free of dirt. She even wore jewelry, although it was subtly placed. The thick cloak she wore was of the tailor-made cut typical of aristocratic children, unlike the more common cloaks, which were fastened at the neck. The former were usually given to help disguise a child’s social position when afield.

If Sue wasn’t a noble child, then she could have belonged to a merchant family. In fact, it might have been Arcus who should be treating her more respectfully. In any case, what concerned Arcus the most was what a child of her status was doing wandering the capital by herself.

“Anyway! You gotta tell me about that magic now! I’ve never seen anything like it!” Sue leaned forward excitedly.

“That was a spell I created,” Arcus replied.

“You can do that?! Wowie!”

“It’s nothing, really...”

“Yes it is!” Sue objected. “I tried to make my own too, but you saw how they ended up, right?! And you knew straight away why they didn’t work! You must be really smart!”

The more she praised him, the more embarrassed Arcus felt himself become. Although he didn’t have room to say it, the final spell that she tried to cast sounded to him like it was going to be quite something.

“Y’know, you don’t see a lotta spells like that. Usually if you wanna attack, you use water, wind, or fire... Natural stuff like that.”

She was absolutely right. Fire, water, wind, stone... those were the sorts of elements used for offensive spells the majority of the time. It was probably thanks to inspiration from natural disasters that gave people the impression that they were so strong, and therefore the first candidates when creating these kinds of spells. Other kinds of destructive phenomena were not as widely known, and many people lacked the vocabulary to incorporate them into their magic.

It was thanks to Arcus’s extra memories that he was able to picture and describe exactly what he wanted his spell to do.

“What did you picture to have all that trash fly to your arm?” the girl asked.

“I suppose I was thinking of people who collect waste,” Arcus replied. “I mean, trash can be really heavy, right? And probably heavy enough to kill someone, even without needing to create fire or water. Although the kidnapper survived in the end.”

“There probably wasn’t enough trash for that in those streets. But your thought process is super interesting.” Sue tilted her head thoughtfully, taking in his words. “Was there anything else?”

“Well...” Arcus began.

The two of them continued to discuss magic. Before they knew it, the sun had already set.

Although many days passed after the attempted kidnapping, Arcus continued to meet with Sue from time to time. The two of them had become friends. It wasn’t just her personality that made her easy to get along with; they had a lot in common. They were both at the same place with their magic skills, what with Sue already starting to create her own spells, so conversation came very naturally. Not only that, but her interest in magic covered a lot of ground that Arcus’s didn’t. They had already arranged to study together the next time they were both free.

She certainly is a strange girl... not that I have any right to talk, Arcus thought to himself.

Most children her age spent their free time playing outside, but she seemed to be studying every waking moment. While studying magic was more enjoyable than other kinds of work, since you could actually see your skills improving, it was still a little strange.

Arcus was reminded of a proverb from the man’s world: “Birds of a feather flock together.”

In any case, he was very pleased to have a friend who shared his passion for studying. Having a friend who could help you improve your own skills while you helped them was quite rare indeed. Although Arcus would have appreciated it if she stopped prodding and pinching his cheeks and calling him baby faced.

Today, Arcus was busy carving seals in his room. He had everything he needed: a bottle of Sorcerer’s Silver, a case of pigment, and his notebook filled with artglyphs. He had learned that if you carved using the hot, kneaded aether he was now able to produce, your seal would be even more effective. Ever since that incident with the kidnapper, he kept an emergency reserve of that tempered aether and had even practiced controlling it. On a whim, he decided to use it when making a seal, and the results were impressive.

This kind of aether required much more careful handling than the regular kind, as well as a great deal of focus, but it was all worth it for its effectiveness. In fact, using it for seals made Arcus realize that his original way of carving probably hadn’t been terribly efficient in drawing out the spell’s full effects.

It was a new discovery, and one made by him alone.

Although there may be someone who discovered this before me, he thought.

Although he had struggled with seals before, all those struggles had led up to this discovery. That knowledge made Arcus feel all warm inside. He continued to carve as a cheerful song played inside his heart.

“Brother!”

“Ack!”

He hadn’t noticed his visitor until she was standing right behind him. The shock caused him to lose focus and the careful control of his aether. He struggled to keep his grip on the dagger in his hand, but it was at the cost of his Sorcerer’s Silver bursting out of its bottle.

It splattered over the floor, the drops sparkling and catching the light. Flustered, Lecia began to gather it all up.

“I-I’m sorry!”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”

“I didn’t think I’d scare you...”

“R-Right. Most people wouldn’t.” Arcus let out an awkward laugh.

He felt bad that she was apologizing, given that he was the one who should have had his guard up.

Having collected up the Sorcerer’s Silver, Lecia sat down next to Arcus to watch him work. In the past two years she’d overcome her lisp, and now she was perfectly capable of a fluent conversation.

Proper speech was essential to a magician, since you wouldn’t be able to properly enunciate spells otherwise. Not only that, but poor language acquisition in your mother tongue would lead to problems when learning artglyphs and the Elder Tongue. As the heir to a noble military family, Lecia must have received rigorous speech therapy.

Lately, she had taken to tying up her silver hair with a blue ribbon. The hair that fell around her face was long, and her eyes were tired. She was just a little shorter than Arcus. Beneath her white blouse, she wore a frilly blue skirt, as well as suspenders to hold up her socks. Lecia peered at Arcus’s handicraft curiously.

“You’re making seals again today?” she asked.

“That’s right.”

“You must have worked very hard to be able to carve seals like that.”

“Have you done any yet?” Arcus asked.

“Not yet. I’ve only just started learning magic, after all.”

Lecia’s magical education had been delayed, likely until she was judged properly able to handle it. Arcus had jumped the gun a bit. Most people didn’t start to study magic until the age of twelve at the earliest, and some didn’t start until fourteen.

“Have you learned any spells yet?” he asked.

“No, not yet.”

That didn’t surprise Arcus, either. It had taken more than six months for Craib to give him permission to start casting spells himself. Lecia would probably need around the same amount of time.

“What about you? I’m sure you’ve used magic several times by now,” Lecia said.

“Yes, although they’ve mostly been basic spells. Uncle taught me Flamlarune, too, and I’ve learned how to cast that properly.”

“Really? That’s amazing!” Lecia looked up at Arcus, her eyes sparkling with admiration.

“I’m sure you’ll learn it soon yourself. You won’t have any trouble with it.”

“I’ll do my best!” Lecia promised as she beamed at her brother.

At first, Arcus worried that Joshua and Celine would turn Lecia against him, but she had continued to come and see him over the years, and he found her presence incredibly comforting. If it weren’t for her, who knew just how deep he would have sunk into self-pity.

Arcus explained what he was doing to her as he carved, but eventually her break time was over, and she had to return to her classes. Arcus decided it was time for him to take a break, too. He gathered his aether, ready to tidy up, but then he stopped.

Unless he was mistaken, one of the drops of Sorcerer’s Silver on the ground just moved. Arcus let go of the aether he gathered inside him. The spot of liquid on the ground shrunk again, as though it had been expanded a moment before.

Intrigued, Arcus centered his aether again. Sure enough, the drop expanded. It was very odd. Even though he was putting his aether to use, it wasn’t like he was trying to do anything with the Sorcerer’s Silver.

“Perhaps it’s reacting to my aether,” he wondered aloud.

It was the only explanation he could think of. What he couldn’t work out was why. He had never seen Sorcerer’s Silver behave like this, and so he concluded that it must have had something to do with the aether he released when Lecia made him jump. Following that line of logic, it was probably connected to the moment the Silver shot from its bottle. But if that was true, Arcus couldn’t work out what about the incident would cause this phenomenon.

“I wasn’t using it to cast spells, only to carve out seals,” he murmured. “So something must have happened to it the moment it exploded...”

It was then that he remembered the hot, tempered aether inside him.

That had to be it. When Lecia scared him, he lost control of that aether, meaning the Sorcerer’s Silver would have been exposed to it. There was no other explanation. While the Silver would have been exposed even as he carved out the seals, that exposure would have been very limited. Not like the intense burst he released when the Silver exploded.

Imbued with that aether, the Sorcerer’s Silver had transformed into something else.

“It’s awfully curious for it to change size like this...” Arcus said.

Now that he had worked out what had happened, he now had to figure out what to do with this new material. Tentatively, Arcus released some aether. As though reacting to it, the former Sorcerer’s Silver began to grow in size once more. Arcus stopped. The liquid shrank back to its former size. He repeated this exercise over and over for a while, until suddenly it came to him like a bolt of lightning.

“That’s it! A thermometer!” Arcus began to tremble with excitement at his discovery. “This is just like a thermometer!”

Watching the Sorcerer’s Silver expand before him as it reacted to his aether reminded Arcus of mercury thermometers. Suppose he contained the Silver within glass—it would let him measure his aether expenditure accurately. He would no longer have to rely on his gut, and he would be able to fine-tune the effectiveness of his magic in no time.

Here was a possible solution to his eternal bugbear as a student of the aetheric arts. That night, Arcus stayed up researching Sorcerer’s Silver and its transformation until dawn. His research confirmed his hypothesis: by exposing Sorcerer’s Silver to hot aether, it became aetherically reactive. By all accounts, creating a device to measure magic power (which Arcus dubbed an aethometer) should work.

That morning, Arcus headed straight for Craib’s place as soon as he deemed it prudent. He informed the guard at the gate that it was an urgent matter. The guard went to fetch him immediately.

Craib was still yawning as he welcomed Arcus into the reception room. Arcus’s arrival must have woken him up. He was clad in a black tank top and long pants, presumably what he wore to bed. Arcus gave a slight, apologetic bow.

“Good morning, Uncle,” he began. “I apologize for imposing on you so early in the morning.”

“Early is right!” Craib studied him. “Hey, are those bags under your eyes?”

“I was working late into the night,” Arcus admitted bashfully.

Craib let out an exasperated sigh.

“Y’know that sleepin’ properly is important for kids, right? If you don’t sleep right, you’ll be stuck with that baby face and puny height until your fifties at least!” Craib teased, prodding at Arcus’s forehead with a thick finger. He clearly knew where to hit Arcus right where it hurt. “So, what’re you here for? You didn’t get kicked out or anythin’, right?”

Craib’s expression suddenly turned dark. Arcus had a feeling that Joshua wouldn’t be in for a good time if that were the case.

“No, that’s not it,” Arcus reassured him.

“Just be careful, okay? I think he really hates you, y’know. He might be too worried about his reputation to throw you out right now, but push him much further and he might snap.”

Craib was right. His brother detested Arcus, and while he and Celine hadn’t thrown him out just yet, the threat they posed to him if he rocked the boat was more palpable now that he was older. Arcus decided to keep his uncle’s warning in mind.

“I shall be careful,” he promised.

“Good. But just come straight here if it ever does happen, yeah? I’ll give you a good home!”

“Thank you!”

Arcus felt a renewed appreciation for his uncle’s kindheartedness.

“No problem! Say, you could bring some of your friends, too! The more the merrier!”

Arcus straightened up, deciding that now was the time to broach the main subject.

“I come here today with an earnest request,” he began.

“Whaddya want?” Craib asked. “Cash?”

“No, although what I am thinking of may require some funding.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I was just wondering whether you would be able to make something like this.”

Arcus pulled a piece of paper out of his bag. On it, he had drawn all the necessary components for his aethometer, with a written explanation of each piece’s function. Taking the sheet of paper from him, Craib studied it closely.

“So you want a glass tube and a graduated wooden frame? What’s this for?”

“I suppose you would call it an experiment. Do you think you could make those for me?”

Arcus had no choice but to ask Craib; he didn’t know anybody else who would be able (or willing) to help him. He had never made anything like this before. He decided to keep what he was trying to make a secret from his uncle, of course.

“Yeah, I could do that. You just want the stuff that’s written on this paper, and a few of each, right?” Craib asked.

“That’s right!”

“Sure thing. Looking at this, though, it’ll probably take a while. Is that okay?”

“That’s fine. Thank you so much!”

It wasn’t long until the requested items arrived at the Raytheft estate. As for the Sorcerer’s Silver, Arcus took care of that himself. The first step was to create a vacuum on the inside of the glass tubes with an appropriate spell before filling it with the Silver, just like a regular thermometer.

The problem is that it will react to my aether...

If Arcus released any aether too close to the Silver, it would expand and only make things more difficult. He found himself wishing the man had done some research into how thermometers were made. He scoured through the man’s memories buried in his head, but there was nothing about the particulars of thermometer production.

There was nothing that Arcus could do about that now, either, and so he resorted to trial and error. Eventually, he managed to get the Sorcerer’s Silver inside the tube. The only thing left was to see whether the Silver still reacted through the glass.

“Come on...” Arcus murmured under his breath, releasing his aether.

He waited. And then...

The Silver moved.

“I... I did it!”

Overcome with excitement, Arcus slumped to the ground. His first prototype of the aethometer was a success. From that, he would be able to calculate how much aether different words and phrases required for different spells.

“I did it!” he cried out again. This one discovery would enable a giant leap forward in his studies.

Arcus danced around the room joyfully, unable to contain himself. He only made the discovery by complete coincidence, and yet he was able to use it to his advantage. The joy he felt was completely indescribable. Within two years of being disowned, he already made his first step toward showing up Joshua and Celine. They called him talentless, but with this one invention, his potential was limitless.

He was getting ahead of himself. First he had to tell Craib the good news, and soon he needed to fill the gaps in his design.

I need a standardized unit of measure and a replicable process for tempering the Silver and...

Arcus’s thoughts were washed away by another wave of intense excitement. Without even realizing, he had started to refer to scientific terms from the man’s world. He fetched a ruler. Units. That was what he needed first. To start with, he set the amount of aether needed for the most basic psychokinesis spell at ten. Next, he needed to come up with a name. He thought back to the books he saw in the man’s world. Often, they would describe amounts of magical power as “mana.” That would do. Now he just had to map out how Silver reacted to different volumes of hot aether. In fact, now that he thought about it, there was still so much he had to do. Arcus ended up working through the night again, testing and refining his invention.

The next day, having completed his aethometer, Arcus went to visit Craib again. Just like before, he asked the guard to fetch Craib before rushing inside to see his uncle. He knew full well that it was a poor show of manners, but he was just so excited he couldn’t help himself. Only narrowly avoiding a collision with a servant, he burst into the room where Craib was waiting for him.

“Uncle, Uncle, Uncle!”

“Lemme guess... You stayed up all night again? You need to learn to calm down, y’know?”

Craib only half looked like he was joking, although he didn’t seem surprised to see Arcus; he had likely already been warned.

“Are you busy this morning?” Arcus asked eagerly.

“I’ve got work, but I don’t have to leave just yet. Just... chill a little first, okay?”

Arcus obeyed, taking a deep breath to calm himself. He finally found the wherewithal to look around the room. Presently they shared it with three servants.

“I’d like to speak privately, if that’s alright with you,” Arcus said.

“Sure.”

Although Craib looked just a little doubtful, he dismissed the servants with a wave of his hand. Arcus produced the aethometer from his bag only after the door was closed behind them.

“Please, have a look at this.”

“What, one of the glass tubes I sent to you?” Craib studied it closely. “Huh? What are these lines? Did you put somethin’ in here?”

“I’ll release some aether now. See what happens to the Sorcerer’s Silver inside?”

“Huh... It moves. Neat. I dunno though. If I was a kid, I’d get bored of a toy like... Hold up. These measuring lines... Is this what I think it is?!”

As Arcus expected, Craib was quick on the uptake. He couldn’t help but let a smug smile play on his lips as he watched his uncle’s astonished expression and the way his hands trembled as he held the device.

“How did you do it?” Craib asked.

“I just so happened to notice some Sorcerer’s Silver reacting to my aether and... Well, I came up with this!”

“You just ‘came up with it’?”

“It was nothing but coincidence, really.”

It was partly true. Arcus supposed he had Lecia to thank for the happy accident that his outside knowledge let him exploit.

Now it was Craib’s turn to get excited. Waiting for him to calm down, Arcus took a quiet seat on the couch. After studying the aethometer for a good while, Craib let out a sigh. All at once, his expression hardened.

“You haven’t shown this to anyone but me, right?” he asked.

“Just you,” Arcus assured him. “I do understand the nature of what I’ve created.”

“I knew you were a smart one. Good thinking to get those servants outta here, too.” The tiniest of humorous glints appeared in Craib’s eye. “This thing you’ve made could be huge.”

“I understand that. No one has ever been able to measure aether accurately, right?” Arcus pressed.

“Right. I’ve never seen anything like this in my travels. This is really something...”

“This could further mankind’s understanding of magic, couldn’t it?”

“Yeah, I mean, being able to tell just how much power you need for a spell... It’s a game changer.” Placing the aethometer onto the glass table in front of him, Craib’s expression hardened once more. “I’d love to ask how you made this thing, but there’s something I gotta check first. What are you planning to do with this exactly?”

Arcus hesitated. His main objective was to use it to expand his own repertoire of spells, of course, but Craib was asking a bigger question than that.

“I don’t wish to keep this invention to myself,” Arcus said. “I want to announce it to the world, but I will have to be careful about the timing.”

“You sure? You’d have a huge advantage over other magicians if you kept it a secret.”

“Perhaps. But somebody would be bound to find out eventually, and then they would want it for themselves. If I announce it, my name and fortune are as good as made, and I’ve served my country in the process.”

Arcus could understand the appeal of keeping his invention under wraps. The idea of being stronger than any other magician out there gave him a rush of superiority. On the other hand, the benefits of going public daunted his imagination; he wanted to see what the world would do with his creation.

Anybody could learn to measure the aether they needed with practice. The aethometer would simply speed up that process. Arcus didn’t have a problem giving away that time advantage, since the real strength of a magician came from how they constructed their spells. He expected his uncle to launch into an explanation of what he already realized, but he didn’t.

“Looks like you got it already. You got good foresight, y’know.” Craib ruffled Arcus’s hair. “I know I don’t gotta tell you this, but don’t tell anyone about this thing just yet, okay? We gotta make sure everything’s right for you to announce it.”

“What about my friends?” Arcus asked.

“I guess friends are okay, so long as you’re sure they ain’t gonna tell anyone either.” Craib paused. “I didn’t know you had friends.”

“Of course I do!” protested Arcus.

Craib let out a laugh.

“Oh, and don’t tell Lecia, either. I get that you’d wanna, but it’s safer not to. You get why, right?”

“Yes, I do,” Arcus mumbled.

If he told Lecia, the risk of the news getting to Joshua and Celine—the whole Raytheft estate, really—was too great. He didn’t trust any of them not to steal the credit for his invention.

Arcus was surprised just how wary Craib was of the people who had birthed him. Perhaps the rift between them was deeper than he thought, despite his uncle’s regular visits.

“You probably know Joshua can be... pretty jealous,” Craib told him, a sad note creeping into his voice. “He especially hates more talented magicians.”

“Is that right? I would’ve thought he was more the type to look down on those he deems weaker than him.”

“Huh. That’s some way to talk about your old man.”

“I no longer consider him my ‘old man,’ as you put it,” replied Arcus. As far as Arcus was concerned, their filial ties were destroyed the moment Joshua physically assaulted him. “Although I can’t help but wonder how he ended up like that. He was chosen as the Raytheft heir, right?”

“That’s exactly why,” Craib countered. “It put a real stick up his—well, it made him see everyone stronger than him as a threat to the house’s name.”

To borrow a word from that man’s world, he had a complex. Arcus didn’t know how good of a sorcerer Joshua was, but he could imagine the pressure that came from being the face of the Raythefts.

“He might’ve been fine if I hadn’t come back...” Craib continued. “This might sound like I’m braggin’, but when I came back here after my li’l tour of the world, I was way stronger than when I left, and I was carryin’ all this clout with the army and the crown he could only dream of. Even just as a plain old magician, my reputation improved. Dad put the cherry on top with his last words.”

“What did he say?” Arcus asked.

“He told Joshua that he messed up by naming him heir.”

“Whoa.”

That was harsh. No wonder Joshua had developed insecurities.

“After that, I reckon Joshua expected too much from you and Lecia. He probably felt his own worth was pinned on how talented you two were. Makes sense considering what he did to you, right?”

In other words, Joshua couldn’t face the idea of his son being talentless when he considered himself to be so powerful, and for his self-image’s sake, it had to be Arcus’s fault. Although Arcus understood his disinheritance to stem from the Raythefts’ rules, Joshua’s treatment of him never made much sense until now. Perhaps Arcus’s grandfather and his last words really were to blame, but given Joshua’s personality, things would likely have ended up like this anyway.

Craib cast his gaze away from Arcus.

“Y’know... That means it’s my fault you got treated so badly.”

“I don’t think—”

“It’s my fault. Sugarcoat it all you want, but if I hadn’t come back, things wouldn’t have turned out like this.”

Perhaps Craib agreed so readily to teach Arcus magic because of the guilt he shouldered. Arcus had the feeling his uncle had wanted to convey these things to him for a while.

“I-I can’t thank you enough, Uncle! For everything you’ve done for me!”

Maybe it was true that Craib’s return caused all this trouble, but that didn’t erase everything his uncle did for him. He learned everything he knew from him, and thanks to him, Arcus wasn’t living out a miserable existence; Craib helped to keep Joshua and Celine in check, too. Arcus didn’t have the words to express just how grateful he was, but he tried his best. Craib let out a sigh of relief.

“Thanks. That makes me feel a little better.”

Craib took a puff from the cigar in his hand, but whether it was from embarrassment or nostalgia, Arcus couldn’t tell. Idly watching the smoke circling above them, he leaned back against the couch. Arcus waited patiently for him to finish his cigar, at which point Craib turned his gaze back toward the aethometer.

“Y’know something? You’re a genius.”

Although Craib seemed to mellow out while speaking about his brother, his excitement looked to be returning. He was grinning from ear to ear; he still sounded like he couldn’t believe what his eyes told him.

“I’d still like to discuss it with you if you have the time,” Arcus requested.

“Oh, right.” Craib rang the bell to call a servant, who didn’t take long to arrive. “Hey, I’m gonna have to call off work today. Something urgent’s come up. Mind tellin’ ’em sorry for me?”

The servant nodded before bowing his head and leaving the room.

There were many things that Arcus wanted to talk to Craib about. First, he explained how he created the aethometer. He also wanted Craib’s advice on production: how many he should look to make and such. After spending the entire day going over the details, they decided to visit a glassmith to aid with production.

Arcus carried out experiment after experiment with the aethometer, wanting to refine the design as much as possible. He looked at whether he could improve the Sorcerer’s Silver: whether it could measure larger amounts of aether or with greater accuracy. Again and again, he turned up hitches in his design to correct. Thanks to his endless efforts, he succeeded in improving on his prototype.

He discovered that mixing red pigment with the Silver kept it expanded for longer and reduced friction as it traversed the tube. Keeping each tube the same length, he changed the qualities of the Silver inside it, as well as the rate of expansion. He prepared tubes that could measure up to 50, 100, and 500 mana, which would be useful for different kinds of spells.

With all those improvements, he could carefully control and sustain his aether output. It wasn’t like a magician would be able to use an aethometer in every situation, so it was still important for them to be able to trust their gut. However, being able to measure aether by numbers like this would make all the difference in the world. They would be able to measure how much was required for every last word and clause of their spells. The once-inescapable trial-and-error approach was obsolete. It couldn’t be overstated how much time this invention would save the average magician.

And so, the aethometer’s design was finalized.

Craib and Arcus were nothing short of overjoyed. They spent the next entire week refining the spells they already knew with their new aethometer readings. What pleased Arcus more than anything was just how excited his uncle was about the whole thing.

“Your name is gonna go down in history! Congratulations, Arcus!”

Arcus loved how his uncle shared his intense passion for magic.

It was becoming even more apparent just how revolutionary his invention was. Beyond its vast ramifications for the field at large, it could give the nation’s army an unspeakable edge. The latter point left a bad taste in Arcus’s mouth from what he knew of war in the man’s memories, but he knew there would have to be compromises in announcing his creation.

In any case, he still needed to work out the timing for his announcement. To gain permission, he had to speak to the royal family and the Institute of Magic. Before that, he needed to gather as much data as possible and have a stockpile of aethometers at the ready.

And so, Arcus’s years-long project with Craib began.

One day, Arcus was taking a break from the aethometer to work on spell development. He hid himself away in the corner of the Raythefts’ garden. Though there were no hedges or flower patches to conceal him, this patch of fresh lawn was difficult to see from the estate itself. He often came here to practice magic, but this time was a little different.

Arcus cast his mind back to the incident with Sue. His Scrapped Arms attack failed to knock out the kidnapper, and as a result the two of them only barely managed to escape. It was total carelessness on Arcus’s part. He’d gambled on the effectiveness of an attack he never field-tested and lost.

Arcus didn’t want to take a risk like that ever again. Though in theory magic was capable of anything with the right words, that didn’t always translate into reality. The important thing was to try things out and practice spells over and over to see what worked. This was especially important to Arcus, who wanted to do more than just imitate forces of nature or improve on extant spells. He wanted to make something the world had never seen, and his memories from the man’s world were the best source of inspiration for that.

The first thing that came to mind was guns. Arcus saw them often in movies from the man’s world. A single pull of the trigger sent a metal bullet traveling at imperceptible speed, and your opponent was wounded in a heartbeat. In this world, most attacks were visible. By creating one that couldn’t be seen, Arcus could catch his opponent off guard. The main issue was that gunshot wounds were very often fatal.

I’m not sure I could do anything about that, though...

Kidnappers and the like still ran rampant through the streets, despite the kingdom’s efforts in the name of security. Showing mercy or hesitating could prove a fatal mistake against opponents like them. Regret after the fact wouldn’t be enough to undo your mistake. Arcus gained more than knowledge from his dreams; a foreign set of ethics came with it. You could rarely afford to show mercy to your opponents here.

Arcus already had plenty of words and clauses memorized, thanks to his wide reading. All he needed was to assemble them and create an image in his mind of what he wanted to happen. To help his imagination along, Arcus bent his fingers so that his right hand resembled a gun. He stretched his arm out in front of him.

“Black Bullet. Rip through the air faster than sound and tear apart the wind.”

Artglyphs swirled up around him, forming a magic circle around Arcus’s index finger. They spun, and Arcus felt a weight in his arm.

So far, so good... but what is my aether doing?

Concentrated aether whirled inside his right arm. It felt like blood boiling as it passed through his veins. No longer able to keep his arm up under its own weight, he brought his left hand under his elbow to steady it. The next moment, there was a loud snap as a black bullet shot from his finger. A plume of aether rose like smoke from the tip.

It was just like a real gun. But Arcus wasn’t ready to celebrate just yet.

Something was... off.

It was certainly powerful enough. It shot a hole right through its target. Arcus realized his failure the moment he saw the black bullet. You weren’t supposed to be able to see bullets in flight. Even though he instructed it to move “faster than sound,” the bullet moved too slowly, and Arcus couldn’t work out why. He thought over his exact phrasing.

Perhaps I should use the gun’s mechanism as the basis for my spell...

The problem was that the mechanism wasn’t common knowledge.

Explosive, detonation, propellant... These words existed in the man’s world but had no equivalent in artglyphs, nor even in the language spoken in Lainur. Spells depended on the precision of the artglyphs used to form them. If Arcus couldn’t dictate what he wanted clearly and precisely, then it was impossible to recreate a gun’s mechanism perfectly. He asked Craib, too, but he said those words didn’t exist within artglyphs.

They must exist... Arcus thought to himself. They simply haven’t been discovered yet!

Even if they did exist, there was no doubt they would be difficult to use. An “explosion” was a powerful force, requiring dense qualifier clauses before it could be used in a spell safely. Arcus feared it would make his spell too long-winded. He decided to go back to the basics.

I cannot get rid of “Black Bullet”...

“Black Bullet” came from the second Ancient Chronicle, The Spiritual Age. It referred to the metallic sling-stones used to shoot down the beasts which came from the forest to attack the village. It was the most appropriate phrase he could use to create a solid projectile.

“Rip through the air faster than sound and tear apart the wind.” That’s where my problem is...

The clause described the bullet’s behavior. Arcus created it from single words rather than borrowing it from a book. Still, it was strange the bullet failed to do what he asked of it. If his composition was the problem, then perhaps it would be better to rely on a set phrase. Arcus opened up his notebook.

“Let’s see...” he murmured to himself. “‘Artglyph phrases are created by linking several single words together. While the words composing the phrase give its meaning, its meaning may also be influenced by factors like its context. This gives one phrase several potential effects...’”

For example, there was the spell that Sue cast against the kidnapper. She used a set phrase: “incinerate the darkness.” Taking the meaning literally, “incinerate” was, of course, to “destroy something by burning.” The phrase’s original use in the Chronicles—even the author’s intent—could alter the spell’s nature.

“The Magician’s Elegy, the fifth Chronicle,” Arcus whispered. Then, he began to recite.

“O vengeful magician, weave fire into thy words.

May they blaze with overwhelming force and incinerate the darkness.

May they fill the silent night and engulf yonder buildings, burning bright.”

This section spoke of a magician who lost someone he loved and was set in a city at night. He turned his words into flame to exact his revenge, turning the black night red with flames.

The phrase “incinerate the darkness” therefore had three meanings. Firstly, to burn something up; secondly, to fight back against the dark of night; and thirdly, for those fires to burn strong with vengeance.

Whatever world you lived in, a word’s meaning and nuances shifted with the situation. In the same way, you had to take a phrase’s context into account when using it in a spell. In Arcus’s case, he wanted his spell to knock down his opponent in an instant. He thought back through the six Ancient Chronicles.

The Birth of Heaven and Earth documents the creation of the Earth and sky. The Spiritual Age is a record of the time when spirits wandered Earth. The Prophecy of Shadows predicts the entire history and future of this world. Documenting the Stars describes a scholar’s life as he follows the sky and the movements of the planets. The Magician’s Elegy speaks about civilization as it was when magic flourished, and then there’s Demons and Society’s Collapse.

Arcus decided to review The Spiritual Age, Documenting the Stars, and The Magician’s Elegy for his spell.

The Spiritual Age collected stories similar to the fairy tales, legends, epics, and myths that existed in the man’s world.

Documenting the Stars was a mysterious account left behind by a scholar who researched natural phenomena.

The Magician’s Elegy was written during a time when the people here held just as much power as the technology in the man’s world... before society collapsed.

“‘Like a meteor through space.’” Arcus considered for a moment.

It sounds impressive, but it’s not quite what I’m looking for.

Though Arcus picked over phrase after phrase, none of them stuck in the slightest. He sat down in the garden, grumbling to himself for a while. Finally, he found a promising phrase in his notes on The Spiritual Age.

I’ll try this one.

Arcus held out his arm, replicating the shape of a gun with his hand again. He muttered the phrase under his breath over and over, keeping an eye on the aethometer beside him. Once he was satisfied, he spoke the full spell aloud.

“Black Bullet. Keep the pale horse galloping through the skies in the blink of Death’s eye.”

There was a crack as Arcus felt an enormous pressure on his arm. Just as before, the bullet tore a hole through its target. The bullet moved too fast for him to see anything. It was just like a real gun.

Now I just need to work out how much aether this spell uses.

Keeping his eye on his aethometer once more, Arcus set to work experimenting with his aether output.

After three days of trial and error, Arcus’s Black Ammo spell was complete. While it would have looked more impressive if it weren’t invisible, it was just as powerful and effective as any pistol. It was bound to keep Arcus safe in a range of situations. He just wished that he was able to use language more specific to guns in his spell.

Ever since the kidnapping incident, Arcus and Sue met up from time to time. They spent a lot of their time around the city playing, as children should, as well as simply talking. That wasn’t to say their relationship was equal; it was usually Sue who called the shots on what they would do.

Just as Arcus noted the first time they sat in the plaza together, once you started a conversation with Sue about magic, she would really get into it. Her eyes would light up immediately, and she would tell you just when you should use a certain word or what meanings she thought a certain phrase held. Arcus always got so engrossed in those conversations that time seemed to flash by, in no small part due to his own enthusiasm.

After all this time, Arcus still didn’t know about Sue’s background. He suspected she must be a noble child hiding her status, but she never confirmed this. She even apologized for being unable to speak about her identity.

“I’m sorry... I can’t tell you. But I’m really happy that you’re my friend!”

Her anxious gaze was earnest, telling Arcus that it was likely family troubles keeping her from being honest with him. Maybe she was like him and had trouble making friends.

As they often did, they were spending the day studying together. The locale changed each time, but today it was their regular café, sitting down on the terrace. It wasn’t a fancy place by any means, and you wouldn’t find any expensive teas here, but the atmosphere was relaxing enough. Although Arcus couldn’t afford to come too often, it was nice to be able to sit back with a cup of tea and not have to worry about being kidnapped. Sat at one corner, Arcus and Sue pored over their study materials together. On the round wooden table lay the Ancient Chronicles, pens, notepads, and a glass tea set. Meanwhile, Sue was enjoying some candy. Arcus couldn’t enjoy the stuff nearly as much as she did—not with his memories of refined sugars, corn syrup, and benzene rings for comparison.

The two of them usually spent their study sessions explaining to the other what they learned in their own studies. Bringing their heads together, they worked to pull new artglyphs and words from the Chronicles. There were, of course, words and phrases which they needed to explain to one another, and that took precedence.

“See? This word’s in this phrase, too!”

“Then what about this one?”

“I think... that’s from this line here, isn’t it?” Arcus picked up one of the books containing the Chronicles. Checking his notes, he frowned. “According to The Birth of Heaven and Earth, it’s when the ground shakes violently, like a shockwave through the earth. In other words, an earthquake.”

“An earthquake...” Sue echoed.

“I’ll read this out to you. ‘With a loud groan, the earth destroyed the hills of Bahr. Mountains, valleys, rivers, and seas, swallowed up and flattened. Everything left was lost to the darkness of despair, as voices wailed through the emptiness.’”

This passage likely described a huge phenomenon where the earth itself shifted. It must have been quite something to be able to affect mountains, rivers, and seas.

“I dunno if you’d be able to use that word in a spell,” Sue pondered.

“Indeed,” Arcus agreed. “It does seem a little too powerful.”

Not only that, but too much for a magician to handle. The amount of aether required aside, Arcus couldn’t think of any words to pair up with “earthquake” that would keep it in check. Even if there were, the resulting spell would probably be overly long and complex. Writing it down would be no problem, but long spells left more room for stuttering and pronunciation errors.

Sue leaned back in her seat.

“Think we could take a break? My brain’s hurting.”

“All right,” Arcus said, closing up the books in front of them.

As their minds turned away from studying, Arcus found himself thinking back to the kidnapping incident once more. There was one thing in particular weighing on him.

“Sue,” he began, “could I ask you about the spell you attempted when we faced that kidnapper?”

“Huh?” Sue frowned. “I used a ton of spells. Which one do you mean?”

“Remember? The one you attempted just before I used my Scrapped A—”

“Oh, that one?!” Sue immediately straightened up in her seat and gave a nervous laugh. “It’s, um... Ahem!”

“You mean you can’t tell me?” Arcus asked.

“It’s, um... like a family secret.”

So he was right.

“In that case, I won’t push it.”

“I’m sorry. You’re always telling me so much stuff about yourself, but I hardly tell you anything.”

“That isn’t true.”

It hurt Arcus that Sue seemed to think he contributed to their friendship more than her. His relationship with her was based on mutual aid. While Arcus used the man’s memories to teach her about words relating to concepts and phenomena that were largely unknown in this world, Sue taught him a great deal of words and phrases drawn from antiquity—she had a voracious appetite for history. Thanks to her, he could read some of the terms he struggled with before, as well as unearth new meanings to phrases he was already familiar with. “The blink of Death’s eye,” a key clause in his Black Ammo spell, was something he learned from Sue. The truth was, she helped him out a great deal.

In any case, if she couldn’t tell him about her spell, then he hoped she wouldn’t mind him trying to analyze it a little. Ever since he received that man’s memories, Arcus’s own memory capacity had advanced far beyond his years. It was a piece of cake for him to memorize new words and phrases, and he could recite some of the man’s more well-read books by heart. Recalling Sue’s exact words on that day was not a problem.

“May the echo of these footsteps ignite the firmament. O, dazzling skies...”

That was it. If Arcus broke down the spell into parts, he should be able to work out its effect. After checking to see whether any of the parts belonged to certain phrases (they didn’t), he set about analyzing the meaning of each word.

“The firmament... ‘sky’ as the boundary between spirit and matter. And footsteps which ignite it...” Arcus mused aloud.

Sue looked up at him quizzically, letting out a gasp as she realized what he was doing. She froze for a split second before waving her arms at him.

“Wait! Stop! Stop, stop, stop right there!”

“I beg your pardon?”

“No more thinking! Turn your brain off right this moment!”

“I would, but I don’t wish to die. Besides, it’s just a small part of the spell,” Arcus pointed out. “I fail to see the problem.”

“It’s a huge problem! ’Cause I know you’re gonna work it out! Especially since those words are so specific!”

“Are they...?” Arcus responded.

While “firmament” and “footsteps” were common enough in everyday language, the artglyphs used for them were particularly obscure, even among magicians. If he recalled correctly, they came up in The Prophecy of Shadows. Specifically, a part Craib gave up on working out.

Arcus reached for his copy.

“Y-You can read The Prophecy of Shadows?!” Sue gasped.

“Not much of it, and I only started recently,” Arcus replied.

“You’re such a weirdo! You’re like... You’re too smart!” Sue protested.

“I’m sorry?” Arcus blinked at her. “Is that how you speak to a friend?”

The two began to bicker, which was hopefully a sign of their deepening friendship...

One day, Craib arrived at the Raytheft estate.

“Hello, Uncle,” Arcus greeted him. “What brings you here?”

This was the first time that Craib had actively come to see Arcus, rather than Arcus visiting him. A servant brought him down to the drawing room, where he found Craib lying back on the couch and smoking a cigar. It wasn’t clear whether he was invited in or if he just barged through the front door, but either way, Arcus was impressed at the courage he showed by setting foot in the house he had absconded from. Maybe he didn’t feel the need to act like a visitor on the grounds that he used to live here.

Once Arcus sat down on the dark-brown leather couch, Craib ground out his cigar into an ashtray.

“Arcus,” he began, “you’re gettin’ an attendant.”

“An attendant?”

“Yeah. He’s a good guy. You can trust him, okay?”

“That... wasn’t my issue.” Arcus frowned. “I was just wondering where all of this came from.”

“It’s ’cause of that thing you made,” Craib explained. “You need someone nearby to talk about it to, right? In case somethin’ comes up or you wanna bounce ideas off them. Well, you don’t have to tell him anything if you don’t want. That’s up to you. But you’ll have to get him a room and help sort his luggage.”

Craib clapped his hands in a peculiar rhythm.

“You can come in now.”

The door opened, revealing a handsome young man standing behind it.

From his appearance, Arcus guessed that he was in his late teens or early twenties. His indigo hair was cut into a short bob, and he wore a monocle. He wore a morning coat with a tie that matched his hair, topped off with immaculate black gloves. A rapier lay at his hip.

He reminded Arcus of the butlers from the man’s world. He had a sharp glare, which, combined with everything else, made him look incredibly intelligent. They were the kind of looks that would make him extremely popular with the ladies. His perfect features would give even the most beautiful woman a run for her money.

Arcus lamented that there was no word in his own language or the Elder Tongue equivalent to “Chad,” as the man from the other world would use it, nor for any of the munitions he fantasized about turning on his new attendant in a fit of envy.

“This guy is your servant, Arcus.” Craib turned to the man. “This weedy, girly-looking kid is Arcus. Your master.”

Arcus thought Craib could stand to be a bit more formal with his introduction, among other things.

Arcus’s new servant let out an exaggerated sigh.

“I never expected you to hand me over to somebody else, sir, especially not a child. In fact, I find this all rather unreasonable.”

“Huh? What, did I do somethin’ wrong?” Craib asked.

“Not wrong, no. But something absurd.”

Any other master would have thoroughly punished him for not only speaking out of turn to their master but openly criticizing them, but Craib just laughed it off.

“He can be a bit of a wise guy, but he should be able to help you out,” Craib said to Arcus, giving the servant a hearty thump on the back.

Initially, the servant reciprocated with a hard stare, but he eventually turned to Arcus with a resigned sigh. Putting a knee on the embroidered carpet, he put his right hand to his heart and gave a bow.

“I would like to thank Craib for introducing me. My name is Noah Ingvayne. I look forward to serving you, Master Arcus.”

“I-It’s a pleasure to meet you...” Arcus replied, still wrapping his head around the situation.

Noah looked up at him.

“Forgive me, but please do not feel that you must address me formally. I am your servant. Being overly formal with one’s servant can be an excuse for mockery from others.”

“Um... You know I’ve been disinherited, don’t you?”

“For now, yes. Although the question of what you intend to do from here on remains.” Noah’s serious gaze pierced through Arcus as it sought an answer.

Arcus froze. What did he want to do? Now that he had a servant, he would need to think carefully about how to use him appropriately. If he truly wanted revenge on Joshua and Celine, maybe he should take the same route Craib did and work his way back up the social ladder. It might benefit him to start learning how to act as a noble now so that things would be easier in the future. Arcus looked back into Noah’s indigo eyes.

“Yes, s—I mean, all right. It’s nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine.”

“You’ll need him to teach you how to be a good noble,” Craib pitched in.

Craib clearly expected Arcus to follow in his footsteps. Maybe he saw something in Arcus that reminded him of himself.

“You talk too formally to him, too,” Craib added, turning to Noah. “I can’t remember if you were like this with me, but I think you could stand to loosen up a little, y’know.”

“I was not, but only because your manner of speaking is far too informal,” Noah replied. “Perhaps I would have had more time to prepare had you informed me of these arrangements more than a few hours ago.”

“I get it already! I’m sorry, okay?”

It wasn’t long before the two started bickering. Noah seemed to have a hard time keeping his thoughts to himself. At the same time, Craib seemed to enjoy the banter. Arcus could tell how well they got on, but it also concerned him.

“Noah, are you sure it’s okay for you to leave my uncle?” he asked.

Surely servants had preferences in who they worked for. Arcus couldn’t imagine how Noah felt having to change masters all of a sudden.

“It is not a problem,” Noah reassured him.

“Really?”

“Change can be exciting.” There was a small twinkle in Noah’s deep-blue eyes.

“E-Exciting?” Arcus repeated.

“Indeed. I became Craib’s servant because I knew it would not be boring. You know him well, and so I believe you can understand why. When he promised me an even more exciting term of service under yourself, I trusted fully in his judgment. So far, I have not been disappointed.”

“That’s why you accepted, despite the short notice,” Arcus said, blinking at Craib.

He didn’t miss the small chuckle that Noah barely managed to stifle. Although he looked serious on the outside, it seemed he had a warm heart.

“You can be pretty entertainin’, Arcus,” Craib assured him.

“If you say so...” Arcus replied.

“I know so! You’re way more fun to be around than me, ’cause you’re so unusual.” Craib nodded enthusiastically, but Arcus couldn’t share in his joy.

He wasn’t sure if he was being mocked or not. Although he couldn’t deny he wasn’t exactly normal...

“Anyway, you can trust Noah with your life! Make sure you rely on him, yeah?” Craib continued.

“I will. Thank you,” Arcus said.

“No need to thank me. You’ve helped me more than enough yourself.” Craib gave Arcus a pat on the head.

Craib didn’t seem to know his own strength sometimes; it hurt more than it should for a display of affection. Perhaps if his uncle stopped hitting his head so hard, Arcus would be able to grow a few feet.

So it was that Noah Ingvayne became Arcus’s servant.

Noah Ingvayne was a magician who specialized in ice magic and grew up with a butler’s education. According to Craib, he was a prodigy who graduated at the top of his class from the Royal Institute of Magic. After he did, he received a battery of employment requests, but in the end he refused all of them so he could work for Craib. Arcus wondered whether that was because working under Craib was particularly fulfilling, or if it was just because he seemed “fun.” Perhaps it was neither.

His fellow students at the institute nicknamed him the “Winter Wunderkind,” reflecting both his good looks, his cool intellect, and, obviously, his affinity for all things gelid. It fit him perfectly. He was well-versed in magic, the national style of rapier fencing, and aide-de-campship. He was also an adept student of Imperial history and etiquette.

At first, Arcus was worried Joshua and Celine would have something to say about him taking on a servant, but Craib spoke to them and sorted everything out for him. In the end, they said nothing. It would be stranger if they said anything at all; they still treated Arcus as though he didn’t exist, and it was Craib who was paying Noah’s salary.

Noah helped Arcus out with his everyday chores. He also taught him the ins and outs of noble conduct, as well as some basic education and self-defense training. The first two he picked up incredibly quickly, thanks to his superior memory. It was mostly a matter of putting them into practice. As for self-defense, Noah taught him the basics, and the rest came from the man’s weight training from Arcus’s dream. Granted, there was only so much progress he could make with an eight-year-old’s body. The man had also practiced fencing, or at least a rough equivalent. However, with his small body and lack of a suitably-sized partner, Arcus decided he wouldn’t try and recreate that for now.

In any case, it might arouse suspicion if he suddenly came out one day as a proficient sword-fighter at his age, so he decided he ought to wait until he had a little more experience in self-defense.

In terms of magic, Arcus was already at the stage where he was making his own spells thanks to Craib’s training, and so there wasn’t really anything that Noah could teach him. He did teach Arcus some new spells, but apart from that, Arcus considered him more of a research partner than anything else.

“Are you ready, Master Arcus?”

Today, Noah and Arcus were practicing magic in their usual hidden corner of the garden.

“Could you start by using the spells you use most often?” Arcus requested. “Any spells you’re allowed to share with me, that is. As many as you can.”

“Of course...”

Noah agreed, though he seemed curious about what his master was up to. Arcus could understand why. Usually Noah would explain the spells to him before demonstrating. This time, though, it was important for him to see them first.

Arcus approached Noah, taking out a notepad and aethometer. Noah’s curious gaze intensified, but as soon as Arcus gave him a nod, he began to chant a spell.

“Shattered shards of ice in the shriveled garden under the chilling wind. Freeze up from the very depths of glistening hell, and bring these soldiers and chariot wheels to a halt.”

With those words, a magic circle began to spin beneath Noah’s feet, and a chilling wind picked up. Tiny white specks like diamonds rode it, sparkling in the sun. Those specks fell to the ground, freezing the corner of the garden in an instant.

“Wow!” Arcus breathed.

“This is my Freezing Gale. What do you think?”

“It’s impressive. Did you make it yourself, Noah?”

“Indeed. I developed it from Icy Breeze, an ice spell which works to hold back the progression of one’s enemies.”

“I see. I’ll have to categorize it properly, then...”

Magicians often built their portfolio by improving on the framework of extant spells. Arcus dropped his gaze to his notepad and the notes he scribbled out while Noah was casting his magic.

(“Shattered shards of ice” = 70 mana; “Chilling wind” = 50 mana; “Depths of glistening hell” = 300 mana. “Soldiers,” “chariot wheels,” “halt” = 30, 10, 20 mana respectively) = 480 mana total.

As Arcus jotted some more notes, Noah peered over his shoulder.

“What are you doing there, Master Arcus?”

“I’m calculating the mana you used for your spell just now.”

“Mana?” Noah said.

“That’s right. It’s the unit I measure aether in.”

Noah blinked in confusion as Arcus held up the aethometer to show him. It seemed Craib really hadn’t said anything about this to his former servant. Though his mind looked like it was going blank, when Arcus passed the aethometer toward him, he took it instinctively. Then he stared at it until at last he was ready to pass comment.

“I have never seen anything like this before. Just where on earth did you get it?”

“I made it.”

“You made it?”

“This is the final version, which my uncle helped me to complete. But basically...” Arcus explained it to him, and Noah understood instantly.

“I see. I understand now why Craib passed me on to you.” Noah let out a frustrated sigh. “Though I should have liked for him to tell me about this sort of thing earlier...”

Even though Craib said that it was up to Arcus whether he wanted to tell Noah about the aethometer or not, his uncle probably never believed that he would keep it quiet. He knew exactly what he was doing.

“He probably wanted to keep it a surprise for you,” said Arcus.

“I daresay so. I shall have to plot my revenge somehow,” Noah replied thoughtfully.

“Revenge?”

“Yes. I shall have to come up with some sort of surprise for him.”

Arcus didn’t understand why such a trivial thing necessitated “revenge,” but there was still a lot he didn’t understand about his servant.

“So this is why I’d like you to use every spell you can, so that I can measure their mana cost.”

“Of course I can. However, I should like to ask what exactly you are planning to do with that information.”

“It’s part of my preparation for unveiling the aethometer to the world,” Arcus explained. “I want to have some examples of words and phrases and their mana cost first. I won’t include anything that shouldn’t be made public, of course. Plus, having a record like this will help me in creating my own spells later.”

“I understand. Might it be possible for me to borrow one of those aethometers?” Noah asked.

“Of course. But as I’m sure you know, there’s one condition,” Arcus warned him.

“Don’t worry. I shan’t be telling anybody about it. Keeping matters clandestine falls under my duty as your servant.”

Arcus hadn’t expected differently, but he wanted to be sure. He passed Noah the three aethometers that he had been keeping just for him. Noah studied them, his eyes widening in wonder again. Arcus did feel a slight twinge of reluctance giving them away like this, but he imagined his uncle would feel the same way in this situation.

“There is more than one kind?” Noah asked.

“I’ve made three different ones,” Arcus explained, “for when you want to measure more precisely or with larger amounts of aether. I’ll probably make other kinds if the need arises.”

Unlike the thermometer, the aethometer wasn’t “one size fits all.” Aether had a much wider range than temperature did.

Arcus looked back up at his servant, who seemed to have frozen with the aethometers still in hand. If the thing itself came as a surprise to him, then to have three different kinds probably blew his mind. When he could finally move again, Noah’s lip curled.

“Craib was right. Working for you is exciting indeed.” Noah chuckled.

Arcus took that as a good sign.

“So if you wouldn’t mind using some more spells...”

“As you wish.”

And so, Arcus spent the rest of the day measuring the mana of the phrases and words in Noah’s spells.

Noah was in high spirits from the moment he received the aethometers. Though his professional composure remained unbroken, when he had nothing to do, he would excitedly pull out a notebook and flit his sparkling eyes between it and their readings.

He was a magician through and through. He kept remarking on how revolutionary an invention it was, calling it “marvelous” and going on about how he couldn’t wait to use it to improve his spellcraft.

Arcus was pleased that Noah seemed to like serving him, despite the sudden change in master. He often pestered him, asking whether Arcus had any other entertaining toys up his sleeve, to which Arcus would reply that he was a magician, not a clown.

Thanks to Noah, Arcus found that his everyday life went much more smoothly than before. He didn’t have to clean his own room anymore. He didn’t have to worry about his meals or his laundry. Noah even set out Arcus’s clothes for him. He worked hard, and that work was perfect. Every day, the excited screams of the female servants as he passed by seemed to get louder and louder.

He was practically perfect in every way, to the extent that Arcus sometimes doubted his humanity.

On top of that, there was the matter of Arcus’s sword training. At the moment, the pair were together in Craib’s garden, armed with wooden swords and ready to spar.

Noah was teaching Arcus the Imperial style. It was very similar to the western sword fighting that Arcus had seen in the man’s world, where thrusting attacks were prominent. The main stance was a side-facing one, with your right hand holding your weapon out in front of you. You thrust out at your opponent with the tip of your sword, using sharp movements and focusing on where they were centering their own attacks. What followed was a series of thrusts from both sides.

Arcus grunted as they faced off against each other. His movements were clumsy, yet Noah’s were clean and crisp. The tip of his sword never ended up where he aimed, either. It was like his weapon was cursed with some sort of hyper-flexibility spell. Even when he went in for a desperate attempt to sweep Noah, he couldn’t hit, and when he twisted around and struck at a new angle, Noah saw through him immediately. Sometimes he would wait for Noah to approach him before launching a strike, but the gap between them was open again before he knew it.

Arcus’s battle cries were good and loud, but apart from that, there wasn’t much this eight-year-old could do against his adult opponent. It wasn’t long before Noah’s sword found its way to the base of Arcus’s throat, and it was far from the first time that day. Noah had been going easier and easier on Arcus each time, and yet he remained undefeated. Noah included, there was something extraordinary about the physical strength people possessed in this world, Arcus thought. While the general population was on par with the common people in the man’s world, here your genes and training could lead you to be just as powerful as the heroes that the man could only read about in stories.

Arcus could almost hear the man’s voice now.

Now these are the kind of characters I expect to see in an isekai!

Arcus slumped to the floor, completely out of breath.

“Y-You’re amazing, Noah,” he breathed, unable to come up with anything more eloquent in his current state.

“I cannot allow myself to lose to you,” Noah mentioned. “Else Craib has threatened me with ‘re-training.’”

“Is Craib good at fencing too?” Arcus asked.

“He is good at everything.”

“Oh...”

Magic, fencing... not to mention he was a proficient soldier. Craib might have been a little too overpowered.

Noah offered Arcus his hand, which he took gratefully.

“Pardon my rudeness, but if I may say something...” Noah began.

“Yes?”

“You seem to be overthinking your moves and working to implement those which may be too much for you. While your mind is overworking, your body is struggling to keep up.”

“O-Oh...”

“Your strategies are a little over-ambitious at times. I would suggest you tone things down just a touch.”

“Okay...”

“It is vital to master the basic skills if you wish to master the art. While your form is in no way poor, I do think you ought to work more on your fundamental movements.”

Arcus nodded. Noah wasn’t saying he was hopeless, which was something. However...

What does he mean by “strategies”? I wasn’t really trying anything too over the top...

He wasn’t surprised Noah had that impression, though. In his mind, he was working through the man’s movements during his own fencing training and trying to recreate them with his much smaller body. He lacked the deep knowledge to pull them off, though, so it was no wonder Noah thought them peculiar.

Maybe I really do just need to grow a bit first.

While the man also started his sword-training from a young age, his repertoire of movements increased as he grew taller. “Tall” being the operative word; Arcus still had quite a long way to go...

After finishing his training with Noah, Arcus returned to the Raytheft estate. In the corridor, he spotted Lecia. She was wearing her usual blue-ribboned ponytail and comfortable-looking skirt. Despite the Raythefts’ reputation as a military family, Celine certainly liked to dress her daughter up like a doll. Lecia’s footsteps were graceful, causing her skirt to sway as she walked.

“Good morning, Lecia,” Arcus called out to her.

Lecia jumped slightly before responding.

“Brother! Good morning!” Her gaze swept the hall, and she peered around the corners before letting out a sigh of relief. “...I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay; I understand. Is something the matter?”

“I’m just worried Mother and Father will catch me with you,” Lecia admitted.

“Ah.”

Nothing new there, then. It sounded like they were doubling down on their decision. Arcus and Lecia had only bumped into each other, but even then he wouldn’t put it past them to punish her for it.

“I suppose they’re still badmouthing me?” he said.

“Yes. They’re calling you a disgrace, and they say if I go near you, I shall become as ‘useless’ as you are.”

“I see.”

Clearly, they saw him as some sort of parasite which fed on others’ superiority. It was like their disdain of him was growing by the day. It no longer bothered Arcus, but he wished they wouldn’t drag Lecia down into their pettiness. He considered her relationship with him a real blessing, although he was aware that it would keep getting more difficult for her from now on. Her reaction upon seeing him told him that much.

“You do not have to be kind to me anymore,” Arcus said. “Not when we’re out in the open like this, at least.”

“But...”

“Understand?”

Lecia stared at the ground glumly. Eventually, she gave a nod. This was necessary to protect her, Arcus told himself. There was nothing else they could do for now but work on getting stronger, particularly in Arcus’s case, so that he could punish his parents for all they put him through.

There was no doubt in Arcus’s mind that Joshua expected great things from Lecia. Despite how he treated Arcus, he was still a clever man. He was likely depending on Lecia to grow up as a talented magician that he could show off to the world as the Raythefts’ heiress. If he found out how hard Arcus was working, he may well punish Lecia for it. She would be pressured to outperform Arcus again and suffer the brunt of Joshua’s anger if she failed. In which case, the safest thing to do was to avoid a situation where Arcus’s and Lecia’s talents could be directly compared.

Arcus made a mental note to keep his activities as discreet as possible.

The Magician’s Guild. Originally, it was merely an office which kept track of the magicians living in the kingdom. Now, it dealt with much more: official magic identification, advertising magical services by its members, and protections for magical activities.

Its black, four-story building was close to the palace, in a district dedicated to national offices.

After his meeting at the palace that morning, Guildmaster Godwald Sylvester returned to his own castle: the Magician’s Guild. In the carriage on the way, he turned to his elderly secretary, Balgeuse.

“I have a meeting first thing this afternoon, right?”

“Yes, sir. With one Craib Abend and two others accompanying him. They asked to meet where we could not be disturbed, and so I have reserved the Dark Room.”

“Oh? Do you think they’re up to something?”

“Scheming in a secret, soundproofed room is hardly new territory for you, sir.”

“Hmph. Go on then. What’s this meeting about?” Godwald asked after his secretary’s wisecrack.

There were three meeting rooms in the Guild. VIPs were seen in the Golden Room, the Blue Room was where many people were expected, and the Dark Room was for confidential affairs. It was a completely isolated, windowless room. It was where state magicians came to report on their research, and so it was used more often than one might think.

“Those two accompanying him... Are they servants?”

“Very likely,” Balgeuse replied. “Do you think he’s made some sort of discovery?”

“He hasn’t said anything to me.”

Craib was an old friend of Godwald’s. Back when Craib was still a runaway brat, he often turned up wherever Godwald went, causing him all sorts of trouble. After leaving his home and country, he even had the audacity to ask to become a state magician on his return.

Godwald was in almost constant contact with him, and Craib often came to him to discuss his research. Lately, however, he was so busy with military matters that he didn’t have time to launch any new research projects.

Yet here he was in the Dark Room. State magician Craib Abend, his servant, Noah Ingvayne, and a young girl Godwald didn’t recognize. She had the same silver hair as Craib and large ruby eyes set high on her pale face. On top she wore a white shirt and, despite being a young noble girl, was wearing shorts rather than a skirt. She even had a short sword on her hip, the kind usually reserved for self-defense.

The girl let out a small squeal when she saw Godwald’s face. Godwald didn’t mind; he was used to it. His expression was naturally stern, not to mention covered in scars. Children often cowered from him or even burst into tears.

This girl, however, suddenly righted herself and bowed in apology.

“I’m awfully sorry!” she cried.

“It’s alright.”

The girl bowed deeply again, as though she didn’t believe him. “I-I am truly, very sorry!”

She continued to apologize, as if Godwald intimidated her. He wondered if his face was really that scary.

He looked over at Craib and his servant, but they were both grinning from ear to ear. His servant, Noah Ingvayne, certainly suited him. Godwald heard he was usually rather stoic but held a sense of humor underneath.

The girl still looked anxious. It wasn’t until Craib reassured her it was all right that she calmed down, gave a final bow, and sat down on the couch.

The Guild’s flag spanning the wall behind him, Godwald sat down to face his visitors. He began by addressing Craib, the initiator of this meeting.

“I’ve met Noah before, of course, but... who is this young girl?”

“He’s my nephew,” Craib corrected him. “I mean, you can tell by his clothes he’s a boy, right?”

“Your nephew?” Godwald said.

He looked again. The child had a rather feminine face, but sure enough, his clothes were the usual kind for a noble boy. Godwald knew Craib himself had no children, but he had heard the Raythefts’ eldest son was disinherited.

“M-My name is Arcus Raytheft.” The boy introduced himself. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you. I am the Magician’s Guildmaster appointed by His Majesty, Godwald Sylvester.”

Craib jumped in to give his own introduction for Godwald.

“Arcus, this creep is the most important magician in the entire kingdom. Well, I mean, I guess the King is, actually... but this guy’s a close second, okay? Just remember it’s the guy with the scary face.”

“There’s no need to paint me as some sort of monster, Abend,” Godwald warned him.

“Just breakin’ the ice.” Craib grinned. “Play along, will you?”

He was still ill-mannered, despite becoming a state magician and gaining a place in the peerage. Sure, he was technically correct about Godwald’s face, but he didn’t have to say it.

“So, what is this—” Godwald began.

“E-Excuse me!”

A loud, high-pitched voice from the other side of the door interrupted him. Godwald picked up on the nerves in it. The woman who entered was a recent hire.

“What is it? You’re interrupting,” Godwald said, a little more harshly than he intended.

The girl let out a small squeak before falling down in terror, sending the papers in her hand scattering across the floor. It seemed she had come to deliver these presumably urgent documents.

The woman curled up where she was like a frightened squirrel, tears already in her eyes.

“P-Please!” she whimpered. “Sp-Spare my life!”

“You can count on it. Now what’s the matter?” Godwald asked.

“I... I...!”

“Speak up!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so, so, so sorry! Please! J-Just... I’ll do anything! But please just spare my life!”

She knelt on the floor, begging for forgiveness. The color drained from Arcus’s face. When he opened his mouth to speak, it was a moment before he could find the words.

“Y-You’re really going to kill her?” he asked. “Y-You’re going to bury her alive in concrete and throw her into the sea?!”

The woman let out another frightened squeak as Arcus described the manner of her death.

“Of course I’m not going to kill her!” Godwald replied. “Please don’t say such things. They give people the wrong impression.”

“F-Forgive me, sir!” Arcus gasped, sitting up straight in his chair.

Craib’s exasperated sigh was audible to everyone in the room. “C’mon, man. You need to realize that if you speak so harshly, people are gonna be scared of you, what with your face.”

“I... I can’t help what’s on my face,” Godwald grumbled and then added, “and I’m doing my best.”

He turned to the woman.

“So? What’s the matter?” Godwald repeated.

“U-Um, Mr. Balgeuse sent me with documents, and... and tea and sweets, since there’s a child present. Those are outside...”

Balgeuse was as thoughtful as ever.

“That’s very kind of him,” Godwald said.

“Um... excuse me, but I’m not very fond of sweets...” Arcus spoke up, a guilty expression on his face.

“Oh? How unusual.”

Usually, kids of his age loved sweets. Godwald could probably count those he encountered who didn’t on a single hand.

“He’s a bit of a weird one,” Craib chipped in.

“He is indeed,” Noah agreed.

“I’m right here, you know...” Arcus smiled uncomfortably.

The woman placed the tea and snacks on the table before taking her leave. The four of them had a brief respite before Craib brought up the matter at hand.

“Now, about why we’re here...”

“Yes. I was wondering about that,” Godwald admitted.

“It’ll probably be faster if I showed you.”

Craib pulled out a glass tube encased in a wooden frame and set it on the table. Godwald eyed it curiously. It was too narrow to be a test tube, and in any case the tube was closed off, so you couldn’t pour anything into it. There were gradations etched into the wood, as if for measuring something. At the bottom of the tube sat a viscous red liquid.

This was something worthy of the secrecy of the Dark Room. There was no doubt it was big. Yet Godwald had no idea what it could be.

“What is it?” he asked outright.

“It’s a device which accurately measures aether, called an aethometer.”

“Sorry?”

The first thing Godwald felt was confusion, and initially he couldn’t find any meaning in Craib’s words. Craib grinned at him, as though the flummoxed look on his face was just what he hoped to see. Godwald quickly regained his senses.

“So... you say this thing measures aether?”

He’d never heard of anybody attempting such a thing. He knew there were magicians who attempted to make spells or seals which could measure aether, but they inevitably reached a point where it proved infeasible. Any research on such a thing was long considered to be a dead end. But now...

“Th-This isn’t some sort of joke, is it?” he asked quickly.

“Nope. It really works. See this red stuff down here? That’s what reacts to the aether,” Craib said.

“You mean it moves?”

“It expands,” clarified Craib. “It expands more the more aether it’s exposed to.”

“And you made this?”

“I helped. But it was this fella who came up with it.” Craib plonked his hand down on Arcus’s head next to him.

“Him?” Godwald gasped in astonishment. “He can’t be more than ten years old!”

“I know! Pretty cool, right! I couldn’t believe it myself, either.” Craib let out his usual hearty laugh as Arcus showed a shy, wonky smile.

Godwald picked up the aethometer and tested it out by releasing a little aether. Sure enough, the liquid started to expand and make its way up the tube. The moment Godwald stopped, it began to contract before settling back at the bottom.

“It’s extremely sensitive, isn’t it?” he remarked.

“Yup. That’s what makes it super easy to use.”

At first, Godwald hadn’t believed it, but now that he’d seen it for himself, he was convinced. This device really could measure aether as Craib claimed.

“How far away does it work from?” he asked.

“Not that far. Its range is probably just a little shorter than this room,” Craib told him, as Arcus nodded in confirmation.

In that case, it probably wouldn’t work to measure the power of an opposing magician.

Despite that, however, it was nothing short of groundbreaking. Using it would greatly increase a magician’s understanding of their own magic. By cutting the time spent learning how much aether was used per spell, the standard of magic in Lainur would vastly improve, and magicians would be put on an even playing field. It was impossible to put into words just how much of an advantage this small object would bring, but there was one thing Godwald could say.

“This will bring untold benefit to our country.”

“Right?”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Godwald asked. “You have every right to keep it to yourselves, after all.”

The aethometer would unlock one of magic’s greatest mysteries. There was precedent in Lainur that permitted a magician who created something like this to hide its existence without punishment. With it, Arcus could strengthen his own house, gain advantage over another, or even go on to found a new one of his own.

“He’s already decided,” Craib spoke for him. “He said he wants to make it public and reap the rewards from it.”

“I see.”

How odd, thought Godwald, for a child of his age to be so materially concerned.

“Arcus Raytheft,” he addressed the boy. “What exactly do you hope to gain from announcing this creation of yours?”

“Money. And, if I may, I would like as much access to Lainur’s texts on aetheric studies as the state can afford to allow me.”

He was a magician through and through. Money and knowledge, the biggest twin desires of any magic-user. However, Godwald just couldn’t wrap his head around the boy’s age.

“Craib... you know, kids at this age usually just think about sweets and toys.”

“Yeah. I told ya he’s weird. Just one day, out of the blue, he asked me to teach him magic. Now he’s already makin’ his own spells!”

“Really?” Godwald gasped.

He felt a chill run down his spine. Creating your own spells was often one of the final tasks assigned to magicians studying at the Royal Institute before they could graduate. It wasn’t until after four long years of studying the Elder Tongue’s grammar and vocabulary and deepening their understanding and power over their aether that they were finally knowledgeable enough to create their own magic. Even then, there were students who fumbled it, and less than ten percent were able to come up with anything impressive. Was Craib really saying this young boy was at that level?

Godwald would expect such a thing of a gifted child of the royal family, but never of a boy like this, even if he was trained personally by a state magician.

“He must be an astounding young man if he created this on top of being able to craft his own spells.”

Magicians had been searching for a way to measure aether for years, and now here was a young boy showing him the solution. If this was the level he was at now, just what would he be capable of as an adult?

Godwald turned his attention back to Arcus, studying his feminine, innocent features. He kept sipping his tea, as though nervous, and it was hard to believe there was a gifted brain behind those anxious eyes. Godwald looked at Craib.

“Have you reported this to His Majesty?”

“Nah, not yet. He’d just ask about all the boring stuff like ‘production goals’ and ‘contracts with third parties’ and stuff. I don’t even wanna think about what he’d say if we told him we hadn’t done any of that yet.”

Godwald could see his point. His Majesty very much favored those with actionable ends in mind. With no such plans, going to see him would doubtlessly result in a scolding.

“You don’t think he’ll complain now that you didn’t go to see him first?” Godwald asked, voicing his remaining doubt.

“Pfft. Probably. Dude’s got a staff up his butt, after all.”

Godwald suddenly realized that Arcus looked more stiff than before.

“U-Uncle,” he began, “are you sure it’s okay to be talking like that about the king?”

“Huh?” Craib blinked. “Oh. Right.”

In Lainur, as in other kingdoms, the king’s power and divinity was absolute. Speaking so lightly about him as Craib was definitely treasonous. That should have been common sense... but Craib, of course, was the kind of person to defy common sense.

“We’re friends, you know,” Craib explained. “We used to sneak out and run all over town.”

Craib began to tell tales of how he and the current king forged a strong friendship. Though he spoke proudly of their escapades, to Godwald it sounded like they were nothing but a pair of nuisances. Arcus, meanwhile, simply gaped at his uncle.

“Anyway. I guess we’ll drop in on him quickly,” Craib decided, bringing his stories to an end.

“Sounds good. I’ll make some arrangements so that he’ll listen to you. How’s that?”

“Thanks. We’ll sort out all the researchy stuff. Once we’ve got an announce date sorted, we’ll rely on you to get all the formal preparations and legal stuff done.” Craib stood up.

“Aren’t you taking this with you?” Godwald asked Arcus, motioning toward the aethometer.

“You may keep it and use it, Guildmaster,” he replied.

“It’ll be a ‘thanks-for-seeing-us’ present.” Craib grinned.

“Very funny.” Though Godwald sighed, the excitement at getting to use the device was plain on his face. Just before the group left the room, he called out. “Abend.”

“Yeah?”

“For Crown and Country Evermore.”

“Right. For Crown and Country Evermore.”

With that, Craib left the room with his companions.

Citizen’s Plaza #3 was one of the plazas built in the early days of the capital’s construction. Unlike the central plaza, it wasn’t near the middle of the city. It was more like a park from the man’s world, and these recreational spaces were spread out through the capital.

Children ran around the center while housewives from the neighborhood chatted with each other. Meanwhile, elderly folk with too much time on their hands were bonding over a board game known as Battle Chess.

As usual, Arcus and Sue met up to study magic together. Having foregone their café, today they sat together on stone stools. They already finished studying and were now simply enjoying a light conversation. Before Arcus knew it, he was relaying his life story to Sue.

He explained how he was born to the viscount and was now learning magic under Craib. He didn’t omit anything when it came to his disinheritance, of course. Sue didn’t look like she knew how to react to that. Her dark-blue eyes narrowed and widened repeatedly, as though she wasn’t sure whether she ought to be surprised or appalled.

“So you had the heirship stolen from you...”

“Yes, and not in the most pleasant way, either.”

All Arcus could do now, as he looked back on those people’s treatment of him, was sigh. In the man’s world, they would surely have been arrested for child abuse. Nowadays, he tried his best to avoid them, but even if he ran into them, they couldn’t do much with Noah around. They simply ignored each other’s existence, though Arcus knew that didn’t make everything okay. Sue frowned dubiously.

“You said they disinherited you ’cause your aether was weak, right? That’s kinda weird...”

“I know. However, as far as they’re concerned, my magical abilities simply had to live up to the Raytheft name, as is tradition.”

“You seem fine at magic to me, though,” Sue remarked.

She was right. From a normal perspective, his magical abilities were fine. There were even officials who were less powerful than him. Being able to use magic at all was impressive in this world. After all, theory and learning spells weren’t enough if you couldn’t control your aether or picture what you wanted your spell to do.

“The Raytheft bloodline is a small one compared to other noble families,” Arcus explained.

“That sounds like a pain. It’s not your fault your ancestors just happened to be good at magic.”

“Yes... and now I have to work even harder because of it.” Arcus sighed again. He hadn’t meant for his life story to devolve into a series of complaints, but that was how it ended up.

“So why are you working so hard at magic?” Sue asked.

“Hm?”

“I mean, you’re not the heir anymore, right? So who cares if you’re good at magic anymore?”

“Ah.”

“If it was me, I’d hate magic forever! But you love it, right?”

Sue made perfect sense. Magic was the cause of all Arcus’s troubles, so he had every right to turn his back on it. In fact, it seemed like the most logical response.

“I want to become a famous magician... so I can show them up.” Though he felt a little self-conscious about it, Arcus told her the truth.

Sue let out a small giggle. “What are you, a kid?”

“Um... yes.” Arcus pouted a little, but Sue was still laughing.

“I’m sorry! You’re just so mature in other ways; I find it kinda funny.”

“Perhaps it’s not such a good reason, after all...”

It had been Arcus’s prime motivation all this time, even though he knew that revenge was never as satisfying as it seemed. He wanted to gain power so he could humiliate them. It was sort of twisted, now he thought about it. Was that really the kind of person he wanted to be? Wouldn’t that make him just as bad as his former parents? As Arcus’s mind raced, Sue’s expression suddenly hardened.

It was a solemn yet cool expression—the same one Arcus saw when they were up against the kidnapper.

“It’s a good reason,” she assured him. “Much better than losing hope and deciding to do nothing. Whatever your reason, you’re moving forward. You’re facing your problems. I mean, you coulda just run away.”

“Run away?” Arcus echoed.

“Yeah. You wouldn’t have to rely on your uncle, and you could get away from everyone you hate. But you didn’t, right? Instead, you worked to get stronger so you could stand up to those people. That’s super impressive!”

She had a point. Arcus didn’t have to rebel against Joshua and Celine. He didn’t have to work hard. He could have turned his back and taken the easy way out. Instead, he chose the path of strength, working to break down what everyone accepted as normal. While his reasons might be murky, the path itself was one of courage and progress.

“Is it really?” he murmured.

“Yeah!” Sue broke back into her usual smile. “I think there’s more stuff you can do than just getting revenge on your parents, though!”

“Huh?”

“You gotta dream big!” she insisted.

What did she mean by dream?

“When you’ve had your revenge, what then? If you don’t think about that, then you’ll be totally lost when you’ve achieved your goal!”

“I see...”

Finally, Arcus understood what she meant. In other words, once he finished what he set out to do, he would burn out. She definitely had a point there. You often heard of people losing all direction in life once they finished what they set out to do. He remembered a particular friend of the man, who spent almost all his waking hours studying just to get into a certain national university. Once he was in, he deflated completely.

Who said the same couldn’t happen to Arcus? His goal was borne out of resentment and frustration, which usually went hand in hand with that sort of outcome. If he put his heart and soul into his goal, then he would have neither left once he was done. What he needed in order to avoid that might just be another objective.

“Another objective...” It had to be something big. Something bigger than his current goal. “How about aiming to become a state magician?”

A state magician, just like his uncle. A hellishly difficult qualification that only eleven people in the entire country passed. If that wasn’t big, Arcus didn’t know what was. Sue seemed to disagree, though.

“Hm... I dunno if that would really be enough,” she said.

“Are you being serious?” Arcus asked.

“Yeah. I think you could pass the exam right away.”

“N-No, I couldn’t!”

Where did she get that idea from? Didn’t she know just how difficult it was to become a state magician? Sue ignored his protests, as though she didn’t believe it up for debate.

“Life’s more fun when you set huge goals for yourself. I’m talking about something like becoming a general or one of the most highly-ranked nobles in all the land! Whaddya think?”

“Don’t be ridiculous...”

While a general might be an attainable position, a highly-ranked noble was certainly not. The current gentry either inherited their position, were granted it by the monarchy for a show of exceptional military might, or were royalty from other countries. To become one in a single generation would call for nothing short of a miraculous achievement or contribution to the state. While Arcus found it a most impossible goal, Sue seemed to have made up her mind.

“Yeah! It’s perfect! Now that’s a goal that’ll blow everyone’s mind! Go big or go home!”

“I think I’ll have more luck going home, thank you.”

Arcus’s words didn’t seem to have their intended effect of dissuading her.

“Don’t worry! I know how amazing you are based on my own life experience!”

“Your life experience, which doesn’t even amount to a year more than mine?”

Arcus only recently learned that Sue was older than him, and ever since, she used her superior age against him now and then.

“Nearly a year is a long time,” she said stubbornly.

Arcus found himself getting a little indignant.

“Anyway. That’s the kinda lofty goal I think you should aim for!”

“Very well. I’ll do my best.”

“Yup! Don’t worry, either, ’cause you’ll have me to cheer you on!”

Her words sparked a small fire of confidence within him. This was a part of her personality that he found very encouraging. Even though he had no idea how to go about achieving this new goal of his, she made him feel like he would figure it out eventually without having to try too hard.

“Now, if you wanna make it big, you gotta take every opportunity! Every single one. Be greedy, okay?!”

“Those don’t sound like the words of an eight-year-old.”

“Um, hello?! I’m nearly nine, you know!”

“Sorry, ma’am. Anyway, what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Don’t you have any plans for the future?”

“Of course.”

“For example?”

“Well, I—” Suddenly Sue’s expression hardened again. “I want to make this country strong. Strong enough to overpower anyone who opposes it.”

“What?”

“The Empire’s always looking down on us. Not just the Empire, either. The tribes who live in the Cross Mountains to the east and the country along the southern coast... As soon as we overstep our boundaries, they threaten to strike us down, undermining our power. They’re trying to provoke a war, rousing nobles and independent rulers to rise up from within our borders! So, I...”

There was a strong determination in her voice. She wasn’t just speaking wistfully. This was something she was clearly passionate about. Arcus was sure now. She must have been from a noble family; otherwise, she wouldn’t be speaking like this.

She was only eight years old, after all. There were tons of adults not half as ambitious as this. Perhaps Sue really was more mature than Arcus gave her credit for. Her patriotism seemed to burn stronger than any flame. She wasn’t satisfied with the status quo, and the only solution was to rise up and—

“Just kidding!”

“You sound like you’ve been through a lot. You must think we’re severely oppressed by those other countries to talk about ours becoming stronger.”

“Been through a lot?” Sue echoed thoughtfully. “I don’t... I don’t think I have...”

How odd. Arcus couldn’t see where her earlier words had come from, if not from experiencing hardship. She wanted to make the country stronger so that it wouldn’t be swallowed up by its neighbors. Suddenly, Arcus remembered something.

“Oh, I have something for you.” He pulled an aethometer out of his bag.

“What’s this?” Sue asked.

“What do you think it is?” Arcus countered with a sly smile. If she really was so much more experienced than him at almost nine years old, maybe she could work it out.

Sue spent her time studying the device, turning it this way and that, and inspecting every angle.

“This tube looks like the perfect size for sticking up your butt, if only it could come out of this frame.”

“I beg your pardon?!”

Just what went on in this little girl’s head, and why did it have anything to do with something so dangerous as sticking a glass tube up one’s rear? Arcus was at a loss.

“Huh? What is it, then?” asked Sue.

“It’s a device to measure aether,” Arcus explained. “An aethometer. Don’t tell me you’re not impressed?”

Sue stared blankly at him. Then, she froze.

“It measures aether,” Arcus prompted.

“Wh-Wh-Wh-Whaaat?! Arcus! Where did you get this?!”

“I made it.”

“You made it?!”

Sue stared at the aethometer wide-eyed, as if it had sprouted wings or something. Arcus was long used to that expression on people’s faces by now. He held his hand over the aethometer.

“Watch,” he told her. “I’m releasing aether right now.”

“Whoa! The red stuff inside is moving!”

“This is as much aether as it takes to use psychokinesis. 10 mana, to be precise. Mana is the unit used to measure aether.”

“That’s so cool!”

Sue lit up brighter than a kid in a candy store. In this case, Arcus couldn’t blame her for her reaction. He was sure he would react in the same way. Just then, there was a needy glint in her eye. It looked like she wanted to keep it. She was starting to fidget now. Arcus had never seen her like this before.

“Sorry, but...”

“Come on! Please! Can I have it? Please, please, please!”

She didn’t even let him finish his sentence before throwing a tantrum. What was it that Arcus was thinking earlier about her being mature for her age?

“I’m sorry,” Arcus repeated, “but I can’t give this to you.”

“That’s not fair! How come you’re dangling it in my face, then?!”

“Because if I didn’t tell you about it now, you’d complain when you finally found out about it.”

“Duh!”

“Ugh. Sometimes I just don’t know what to do with you.”

“Well, first, you should give that to me! C’mon! I should have it; I’m the elder child!”

“I already told you I can’t do that!”

“But why, though?!”

“Because I’m planning to unveil this to the public. I can’t just go handing them out before that.”

“Oh, right...” Sue cleared her throat. “You’ll need that to go well for your huge ambitions, I guess.”

At least she had settled down, despite her weird sense of logic. Or so Arcus thought, but she still had an awfully tight grip on the aethometer. He gave it an experimental pull, only to lift her hand up along with it. Arcus gave her the hardest stare he could muster, which she responded to with a cheeky grin.

“I need that back.”

“Aww, but—”

“It’s just until I make the announcement. Until then, you can use it when I’m with you.” Arcus offered her a compromise.

“Really?! Yippee! You’re the best!”

The next moment, Sue barreled into Arcus’s chest. She must really love magic.

“So squishy!”

“Not again...”

Once again, she contented herself by poking at his cheeks.