Clara watched Leon walk away, the warmth on her cheeks lingering far longer than she would have liked. There were only a few people near her, and all of them stared, wondering if she might be some kind of princess or ambassador from another kingdom. The scene they had just witnessed didn't quite fit the usual style of royalty.
Clara gathered a few books and asked the ever-helpful librarian if she could take them with her. The woman simply pointed to a sign listing the rules: all books had to be returned within a month.
Clara nodded in acknowledgment and left the library with a spring in her step. The smile on her face was not only because of her encounter with Leon, but also because of her growing desire to try the magic of this world.
Back in her dormitory, she sat down in the posture indicated by the book and prepared to begin filling her mana circuits.
According to the steps described, the first exercise was the "inner awareness technique"—one could say it was a technique of the soul.
It began with a chant: "I, Clara Gaertner, surrender myself to the mana of this world. With every particle of my being, I allow myself to be baptized by knowledge and to venture into the unknown."
The next step was immersion, where one had to imagine sinking into a vast, dark ocean. The process had to be slow, steady, and peaceful.
If you managed to sink completely into the darkness, the next step was to open your eyes and gaze within, exploring the inner landscape of your magical circuits and slowly learning to bend them to your will.
"I must admit," Clara thought, "at first the immersion felt almost too mystical. But incredibly, I did feel the darkness, and when I opened my eyes, I saw an entirely new world inside me. The magical circuits are difficult to describe, but I could compare them to a glowing neural network. I could also feel the warmth of my soul, which in some way seemed to illuminate everything in this state of awareness—it was like the sun within me."
The book instructed her to make the circuits vibrate, and as soon as she thought of it—like flexing a muscle—they instinctively began to ripple with waves of energy. Since each circuit was connected to many others, her entire inner world seemed to light up.
If someone had been watching her from the outside, they would have seen every pore of her body open slightly as the ambient mana wrapped around her like a veil and was drawn into her being.
Within, Clara saw something like a mist flowing through her mana channels. As it passed through her circuits, the raw mana seemed to be refined, sometimes speeding up, sometimes slowing, sometimes condensing or shifting in color. Bit by bit, her circuits grew brighter and more defined.
Inside, time felt suspended. After several hours, the circuits had filled completely. The whole process had been as fluid and natural as filling a glass of water.
Everything had been intuitive so far. As the circuits filled, they began to condense into clusters of tiny, moving symbols. If one looked closely, they almost seemed like vibrating strings—like something out of string theory, a subject Clara hadn't studied but had once seen in a documentary.
Soon, the symbols began to repel one another. The circuits sparked like exposed wires. She pressed her will upon them, trying to force them into a circular pattern. The sensation reminded her of trying to press together the same poles of two magnets—the resistance was stubborn, but not impossible. Slowly, carefully, she drew the symbols into balance. Minute by minute, the form began to take shape. Sometimes the symbols seemed to flicker and vanish, but in those moments, the circuits pushed more energy through, keeping the structure alive.
Then—like the final click of the last piece in a thousand-piece puzzle—everything snapped into place. The symbols locked together with such force they were harder to separate than magnets, and once the circle was formed, it began to spin at incredible speed, pulling in all the mana around it. At first the rotation was frantic, then it slowed to a steady, stable turn.
It was in that moment, without meaning to, that Clara's eyes opened. She was still in her room. The stars shone faintly outside her window, and in her hand rested a new power—natural, seamless, like an extension of her own body.
She checked the formula in the book for Fireball. Immediately, a pulse shot from her circle, racing through several circuits and condensing mana in her palm. At last, she traced the formula, and as the mana passed through, the spell was complete: a perfect sphere of flame, twenty centimeters across, hovered in her hand.
Her heart leapt. On Earth, such a thing would have been impossible. She wanted to jump for joy. Little by little, the fire faded, shrinking like a stove being turned off. The original spell was meant to launch the fireball, but Clara had tweaked the parameters to keep it stationary. Finally, she closed the mana flow, and the flames dissipated.
It wasn't difficult, she realized. It was like running a program—one that could be modified with different parameters.
Incredible. Clara was still amazed by everything she had experienced that day. But what time is it? she wondered. Her stomach growled loudly, as if scolding her for not having eaten anything. There really should be a clock in this room…
So she slipped quietly out of her chamber. The halls were empty, and she managed to leave the girls' dormitory without seeing a single soul. That could only mean it was very late. The good news was that the dining hall was always open.
When she entered, she hesitated for a moment before moving toward an older woman in kitchen garb who had fallen asleep in a chair. In front of her were trays laid out for anyone who wanted food.
Clara carefully picked up a tray, trying not to make a sound, and looked over the remaining options. To her delight, the food didn't seem bad at all. There was even something breaded that looked suspiciously like fried chicken. She placed one piece on her plate and took a small bite. Astonishingly, it did taste like chicken—only softer, more delicate. But it was meat.
She quickly began serving herself the last few portions. Just as she was about to grab the final two with her tongs, another pair of tongs intercepted hers. Clara froze—she hadn't even noticed anyone approach.
Beside her stood a petite girl with violet hair and lips, dressed in a black outfit that made her look like a slightly gothic doll.
"Leave some for me, glutton."
Being called a glutton wounded Clara's pride, but she restrained herself and simply withdrew her tongs with a small nod.
The other girl smirked and introduced herself."I'm Dana Vaskova. Many call me the most brilliant theoretical mage of this generation. And you are…?"
"My name is Clara," she replied shyly. "I just entered the Academy. I don't have much of a background."
Dana tilted her head, curious. "May I ask—do you know what a theoretical mage is?"
Clara shook her head.
"A theoretical mage understands the principles of magic and can explain them, even without having reached higher realms. We focus on creating and refining spells, and serve as consultants for any kind of magical problem. You should come by my workshop someday—if you're interested. But for now, I must leave. My research awaits."
As soon as she finished speaking, Dana vanished on the spot. A card fell where she had been standing, neatly inscribed with her contact details.