"Stay away from that man at all costs," Zero warned, his tone sharp for the first time since we met. "He's not the kind of person you want to be around—or even speak to."
I frowned. "I know it feels strange, but why do you say that?"
"Because that man is dangerous. Very powerful. I don't understand why someone like him would be in a small, quiet town like this."
"Powerful… meaning?" I asked, though I already feared the answer.
"He can use magic. And not just simple tricks—his mana runs deep. When he brushed against you, I felt it surge. He's trained. Skilled."
"He carries a system embedded in his soul—the kind only academies or higher authorities can grant. But even I couldn't analyze it properly. That alone should tell you how far above the norm he is." Continued zero
I shivered at Zero's words. If even he couldn't read the man clearly, then that stranger was someone far beyond anything I'd ever faced. "So you're saying he came from a magic academy… or something else?"
"Perhaps. But it doesn't have to be that. There are… other ways."
Zero's voice trailed off ominously, as if he didn't want to say more.
I tightened my grip on the bag Mother had given me. My eyes darted around, but the man was gone, swallowed by the morning crowd. For a while, I walked in silence, my heart pounding with every step.
Soon, the small learning academy came into view. Its stone walls were plain, worn with age, and the wooden gate stood crooked, held together by years of patchwork repairs. Unlike the grand academies spoken of in tales, this one was only meant to raise townsfolk into literate, obedient workers—nothing more.
"Jasailee!" a girl called, waving from the gate.
Jasailee's sulky face immediately brightened. She darted past me, all but forgetting I existed, and ran to her friend.
I sighed softly, then whispered to myself, "Alright. Time to go to the market."
Turning away, I crossed the road and slipped into one of the narrow alleys. The smell of damp stone and faint smoke hung in the air as I wound my way through the twisting paths. Sunlight barely reached the ground here, and every corner made me feel like someone might be watching.
At last, the alley spilled open into a wide square buzzing with life. A wooden arch stretched overhead with a freshly painted sign: "Market."
Stalls lined the square, their colorful cloth canopies flapping gently in the morning breeze. Vendors shouted out their wares—spices, bread, vegetables, and trinkets—while children darted between the stands. The air was thick with the scents of baked goods, roasted meat, and dust from the road.
I paused at the entrance, clutching the list Mother had given me.
Looking down at the list in my hand, I sighed. Three pounds of sheep meat, two pounds of goat, tomatoes, onions, apples, and a few other fruits my mother scribbled on the page. Nothing special—just the same things she always sent me for.
The bag she had given me was sturdy and heavy, with a small leather pouch tied securely inside for the coins. At least I didn't have to worry about paying.
The morning market was alive with noise. Merchants called out their prices in raspy voices, children darted between stalls laughing, and the air was thick with the mixed scents of fresh bread, roasted nuts, and raw meat. Wooden carts creaked under the weight of produce, and colored fabrics hung from the canopies, swaying gently in the breeze.
I headed to the first stall, where a stout woman was chopping lamb. Her cleaver struck the wooden block with a dull thunk, splattering bits of blood on the counter. The smell was sharp, metallic, and sour, but I had long grown used to it.
"Good morning, miss," I said, trying to be polite. "How much for three pounds of lamb?"
The woman lifted her gaze lazily. Her eyelids drooped as if she hadn't slept all night, and when she spoke, her voice was deep and rough like a man's.
"Three pounds? Twelve copper."
I nodded quickly, untied the pouch, and counted out the coins into her palm. She wrapped the meat in thick paper, dropped it into a smaller sack, and slid it across the counter. I tucked it carefully into the big bag Mother had given me, then moved on.
One by one, I stopped at each stall—goat, tomatoes, onions, apples, pears, and a handful of berries. The process was simple: ask, pay, receive. Yet as I worked my way through the market, I couldn't help overhearing gossip from the vendors, whispers about barons, taxes, and caravans.
"Things aren't so expensive down here," Zero's voice chimed suddenly.
"Yes, they are," I muttered under my breath.
"No," Zero corrected. "If you were in one of the larger cities, three pounds of lamb would cost at least twenty copper, sometimes more depending on the lord of the land."
I paused, clutching the bag closer. "So you're saying Waden Town is actually… cheap?"
"Relatively. You've seen lords who bleed their people dry. Greedy, corrupt men who raise taxes on a whim. But your local lord—Baron Buchanan—he's… different. Strict, yes, but fair. The baron does not crush his people. The ones who rot this town are not its rulers, but its people."
I frowned at that. Zero always had a way of saying things that made me think deeper than I wanted to.
As I crossed the final row of stalls, my mind wandered to the world's strange system of money: copper, bronze, silver, gold, and platinum. It was simple in theory but crushing in practice.
A hundred copper made one bronze.
A hundred bronze made one silver.
A hundred silver made one gold.
A hundred gold made one large gold.
And a hundred large gold coins made one platinum. Then, above even that, sat the legendary large platinum coins—wealth so vast most commoners wouldn't see one in their lifetime.
I had never even touched a silver coin before.
Once I finished, my arms were aching from the weight of the bag. I left the market behind and began the walk home. The bright sounds of chatter faded into silence, replaced by the distant cries of birds and the creak of old houses along the road.
Finally, I reached home. The place was silent. No shouting. No footsteps. Just me.
"Thank goodness they're not here," I whispered, setting down the bag with relief. "Zero, now you can teach me properly."
"True," Zero answered.
Excitement buzzed in my chest as I pushed the groceries aside. This moment felt like the start of something real—something mine.
"Remember what I told you about feeling your mana?" Zero asked.
I nodded eagerly.
"Good. Try it again."
I closed my eyes, breathing slowly. Within moments, I felt it—a gentle current coursing through my veins, like warm streams of water flowing endlessly inside me. It spread through my body, comforting and alive, wrapping me in its invisible embrace.
"Yes," I whispered. "I feel it."
"Good. Now that you can sense it, we begin with the next step: elements. Every mage must have one. They shape how your mana manifests in the world."
I opened my eyes. "But… aren't people supposed to be born with an element?"
"That is true for many. But not all. Your case is different. You have affinity with all of them, though none has chosen you by birth. That means, unlike most, you can decide which path you walk."
"That… sounds impossible."
"Nothing is impossible. But it is rare. Incredibly rare. Most people cling to the element they're given. You? You will choose."
I swallowed hard, staring down at my hands. "Then… tell me. What are all the elements?"
"Fire, water, earth, wind, darkness, ice, light, lightning, illusion, space, summoning, mind, dream, plant, soul, healing, and holy," Zero listed, his voice echoing softly in my mind.
He paused before continuing, his tone slightly heavier. "There are others—rare, hidden, and extremely dangerous. They are not commonly taught, and I do not recommend you start with them. Time, chaos, void, abyss, and reality. Each of these elements bends the natural laws of the world, and even a prodigy risks losing themselves if they try to master them too early."
I swallowed hard, eyes widening at the thought. Just the names alone sent shivers down my spine.
"Which one do you recommend?" I asked. Honestly, I was clueless about elements. They all sounded powerful and overwhelming, so maybe leaving the decision to Zero was the smartest choice.
"You need an element that can protect and fight, but also one that can sustain you. Balance is key. Fire, ice, plant, and light—those are my recommendations. Each of them is strong, versatile, and practical for someone starting their path."
I nodded slowly, turning over the options in my mind. Fire was the obvious choice—wild, destructive, fierce. It suited me in some ways, the anger and pain I carried inside. But… did I want to wield something that burned everything in its path?
Plant sounded strange. Healing, growth, and support, maybe, but I couldn't imagine myself using vines and flowers as weapons. Light seemed noble, holy even, but too… pure. That didn't feel like me either.
My eyes narrowed as my thoughts settled on the last option. Ice. Cold, sharp, relentless. Something about it felt right. Ice didn't just destroy—it preserved, it endured.
"I want to learn ice," I said firmly, surprising even myself.
"Ice? Hm. A good choice." Zero's voice seemed almost approving. "The ice element is powerful, versatile, and dangerous in its own way. A wise decision, Melody."
My heart skipped. For once, I had chosen something for myself.
"Now listen," Zero continued. "Before you wield it as a weapon, you must understand it. Ice is simply the solid form of water. To create it, you must first move your mana throughout your body, focusing it into your hand. Then, picture ice clearly—its cold, its weight, its surface. Imagine a cube of it forming in your palm. Let the mana shape itself into that image."
I sat still, inhaling deeply. Closing my eyes, I felt the flow of mana coursing through me, steady and warm. I focused it toward my hand, visualizing ice as best as I could. A small, cold cube. Simple.
But nothing happened. My hand remained empty.
I tried again. And again. Each attempt left me more frustrated, sweat dripping down my face as my breathing grew heavier.
"Focus. Do not force it. Ice is calm, controlled, precise. You must embody it," Zero reminded me patiently.
Taking one last breath, I pictured the cube again. I imagined its glistening surface, the way it frosted over, the sharp chill that nipped at the skin. I pushed my mana toward that thought—gentle but steady.
And then, with a faint shimmer, something appeared. A tiny, translucent cube of ice sat in my palm, cold and real. My eyes widened, my mouth dropping open.
"I… I can't believe it. I just did magic," I whispered, staring at it as though it were a jewel.
"Congratulations," Zero said, his tone even but firm. "You've officially taken your first step toward becoming a true mage."
I couldn't stop smiling. For the first time in my life, I felt like I was more than what my family called me. More than the worthless shadow they thought I was. I was someone.
"Thank you, Zero," I said softly.
"Do not thank me yet," he replied. "You've only begun. Now, let's advance to your first true spell. It is called Ice Bind. With this spell, you will learn to channel your mana outward, freezing and restraining the movements of an object—or even a living being. This is where your training truly begins."