The session was more informative than he thought.

  “So…you're saying that in exchange for perpetually absorbing the body's natural mana, mana circles allow mages to measure, control, and discharge mana in a far more efficient manner,” Shaden summarized.

  “Exactly. It is why it is in direct conflict with aura, which is the assimilation of mana within the body itself,” Neregal the mage added.

  “But could it not be argued that if one's control over mana is enhanced due to the circles, they can circulate better?”

  “Ah, an excellent and long-debated question. Yet, there is one glaring problem: inefficiency. Why store mana at all if you are to return it to where it was? And why let mana freely flow if you are to store it again? There is also the debate of mental versus natural circulation, which is another topic in itself, but it is generally believed that natural circulation has the upper hand.”

  “But there have been magic swordsmen.”

  “They do still exist. There are two ways to create a proper magic swordsman. The first is to inscribe mana circles elsewhere in the body.”

  “Wouldn’t that be dangerous?” Shaden asked. The whole reason why mages inscribed mana circles around their hearts was that it was the safest place.

  “Indeed, very dangerous. One messy battle, and the swordsman loses a mana circle. The balance within him is ruined, and he may die.”

  The mage lifted up two fingers. “The second method is the traditional one. It would be to have no mana circles at all, or perhaps one, emphasizing aura instead. However, it requires the natural magical talent of the swordsman, one that can cast magic without additional assistance from mana circles.”

  The mage sighed. “Sadly, such talent is rare. Most swordsmen might learn a handful of spells—hardly a magic swordsman. If such talent did exist, they would be better off concentrating their time solely on one field.”

  “Then, for such a person…would mana circles be unnecessary?”

  “Perhaps. Saiton the Sage had no mana circles at all. Yet, mana circles do more than help control mana. Saiton was blessed with mana, but for those lacking, mana circles advance one’s mana capabilities by a magnitude.”

  “So it is like constantly circulating, only that mana is concentrated in mana circles instead of the body.”

  “Exactly! The reason why we mages possess more raw mana than warriors is because of that exact reason. Men need to eat, sleep, and rest; mana circles do not.”

  Shaden pondered for a moment. As Demund, it was unlikely that he’d excel with aura. Not only had he not learned it, but compared to other physical-type powers, he doubted he’d achieve much. Shaden wouldn’t need it, but Demund would benefit greatly from having a mana circle. Precise control and more mana were exactly what he needed.

  “I would like you to teach me how to create a mana circle,” Shaden requested. “I will reward you with the highest-grade mana crystal.”

  The magician’s eyes widened. Yet, the glimmer faded away, and he shook his head.

  “I am not authorized to do such a thing,” Neregal replied. “If you must, you can send a request to either the Academium or the Union of Magic.”

  “Oh.” Shaden felt a sense of impending dread. “And how long would it take?”

  “The test for new applicants is every half a year. I suppose the next is…in three months.”

  “Three months!”

  That was too long. He couldn’t wait for that long. Sure, it would be, what, a little over ten days for Demund? But for Shaden? Shaden was impatient.

  “Is there a reason why you can’t teach me?”

  “That would only be permitted if you were my direct apprentice,” Neregal answered, “which you are not. In the first place, you would require some talent with mana and magic.”

  Shaden smiled. “I think I’m pretty good at magic.”

  “Are you?”

  The mage raised an eyebrow. His eyes scanned Shaden, and he let out a short snort.

  “I can hardly sense mana on you,” he muttered. “I suggest you first learn to grow your mana.”

  “Oh, I’m actually suppressing my mana.”

  “Hm. You are?”

  “Since childhood. When I don’t, it affects things.” Shaden motioned around them. “I’ll probably scare everyone.”

  The mage grinned and nodded. “Of course, young lord. If it pleases you, why not show me a demonstration of your power?”

  Shaden stretched his fingers. “Alright. It’d be bad to cause a mess, so think of this as a…down payment.”

  “Yes, yes.”

  When Shaden placed his hands together and opened them, a small crystal the size of a tiny pebble had materialized, floating above his palms. Neregal’s amused face was already breaking into one of shock.

  “Is that…?”

  The crystal grew in size, visible wisps of mana solidifying into a greater mass. It radiated with a light blue glow, humming with a distinct low-pitched noise. Soon, it was an orb that fit into an adult’s hand.

  But Shaden didn’t stop. He fed the orb more mana; it deepened in color, its fluctuations growing more violent. Light blue turned into blue, then began to shift into violet.

  That was enough. Shaden allowed the crystal to stabilize, then let it drop into his hands. He nodded with satisfaction and turned to Neregal.

  “How’s this?” he asked.

  The poor mage’s jaw had dropped so low that Shaden could see his throat. Shaden smiled. He tossed the orb to the mage, who, suddenly breaking out of his paralysis, flinched to catch it—and the orb gently floated on top of his hand, guided by Shaden’s magic. The mage’s eyes seemed like they were about to pop out of their sockets.

  “What sorcery is this?” The mage demanded, stumbling back. “Crystal materialization?!”

  Shaden shrugged. “It’s nothing new, right?”

  “Why yes, but it’s a complicated process that requires numerous spells and equipment!” Neregal reasoned. “It is simply impossible to do alone! And—and yet…”

  He trailed off, instead turning his attention to the orb in his hand.

  “Such beautiful form,” he breathed, “and such power.”

  “Is this enough?”

  “Enough?” The mage spat. “Child, this is a miracle. Who—what are you?”

  Shaden felt the mage’s wariness dial up a notch.

  “I was born with talent. But I never had a proper tutor,” Shaden explained.

  For some reason, it only made the mage more anxious. If he didn’t do something, it seemed like the mage would bolt away and alert the whole Academium. Eilae would become angry if that happened.

  So Shaden did something.

  “That…is understandable,” Neregal nodded, his body visibly relaxing. “But why didn’t you seek a tutor? Or additional education?”

  “I was busy,” Shaden shrugged.

  “I see.”

  Neregal furrowed his eyebrows thoughtfully. After a few moments, he sighed deeply.

  “I am not authorized to teach you, I’m afraid. However, I can submit a special application for you. You will not have to take the entrance exam.”

  “But it’ll still take three months, right?”

  “Yes.”

  Shaden pursed his lips. The result hadn’t changed. He looked at the mage who had calmed down and was eyeing him with wonder.

  He could make him obey. It would be as simple as turning his hand. Just an hour of training, and everything could be reset. Though, according to Esel, emotions and memories weren’t the same, so to make someone not speak about being manipulated, he’d have to instill a terrible fear in them to make them not even consider reporting him…

  Which was out of the question. What if he manipulated the mage and disappeared soon after?

  Shaden frowned. That wouldn’t work because Eilae had introduced him. The suspicion would be placed on her and the Veurbois instead.

  “Perhaps you will surpass Saiton the Sage,” Neregal said. “The Academium would be honored to have you.”

  “But three months is too long.”

  The mage’s eyes twinkled. “Then, I suggest something else. I will take you in as my apprentice, and I shall be allowed to teach you. This may take a few days, if you do not mind.”

  The thought of having a genius as his student had excited him. Shaden scratched his cheek. Alongside it was growing ambition, envy, greed, anticipation, and pride…

  “I am a Magister and will soon be a 6th Circle mage,” the mage went on. “You won’t have a better teacher.”

  “I’m sorry, but I plan to leave soon,” Shaden apologized. “I’m grateful for the request, but all I need is to learn how to make a mana circle.”

  “Is that so…”

  The man’s disappointment was palpable. His head visibly drooped.

  “A pity, but no matter,” the mage stated, straightening his body. “Shall we continue the tour?”

  Shaden nodded. “Gladly.”

  So they walked now with a little awkwardness, but the sounds of distant lecturing and chanting helped break the silence between them. Shaden tried his best to enjoy the scenery. Eilae was right; the Academium was a small city in itself. Various shops and stalls emanated pleasant aromas. Some places were selling basic magical equipment.

  “Be careful not to enter buildings at random,” Neregal warned. “Some have spells on them to ward off outsiders.”

  “But aren’t I supposed to follow you?”

  Neregal smiled. “I don’t doubt that you’ll be back here someday. It’s good to learn a few things before.”

  Shaden wished that he would. The place was magical. Overhead, a group of students soared by on their staffs. How he wanted to join them. What if Eilae was here as well? They could study together, struggle over difficult problems, count the stars on the rooftops at night…

  Oh no.

  The more he thought about Eilae, the more he realized he was imagining being in a relationship with her. He was conscious of her.

  “Are there many couples here?” he asked.

  The mage raised an eyebrow. “Couples?”

  He gave out a short laugh. “It would be surprising if there weren’t any.”

  “So…it’s not prohibited?”

  “Why would it be?”

  “Well, this is a place of learning.”

  “There is more to learning than magic. There are many things you can learn from a relationship.”

  “There are?”

  The mage snorted. “You’ve never been in one, have you? I suggest you study the heart of a woman before you engage yourself to whoever looks the prettiest.”

  “Er…I will try.”

  “Mark my words.”

  A couple of students greeted Neregal as they passed by. Some girls among the group giggled after glancing at Shaden. Shaden could hear their oohs and ahs if he concentrated.

  “Forgive me when I say I presumed Lady Eilae found interest in you because of your appearance,” Neregal said, “but I see I was mistaken. What would be your relationship with the lords, the Veurbois?”

  “First, you.”

  “They are my patrons,” the mage answered.

  “Likewise,” Shaden said.

  They walked some more, and Shaden realized that the campus was too large to finish touring in the remaining time. At his request, they decided to walk to the heart of the Academium.

  Stolen story; please report.

  At the center of the Academium stood a great obelisk that stood higher than any building. Inscriptions had been intricately carved into its stone surface, and the whole structure pulsed with magic. Even at a distance, Shaden couldn’t help but appreciate its beauty.

  “The Pillar of Ladias,” Neregal explained, “or the Ladias Pillar. When the Academium was founded, it served as the last line of defence. I suppose it still does.”

  “That’s where the Academium’s barrier is coming from,” Shaden noticed.

  “Why, yes.”

  As they neared the structure, Shaden began to hear the sound of strings being played in harmony. Music from a lute, he noticed. A gentle, pleasing harmony that was reminiscent of an autumn breeze.

  “Ah. What a surprise,” Neregal smiled. “Elder Hakken is here.”

  Shaden blinked. “Who is Elder Hakken?”

  “None other than one of the greatest of this age. Yet, he finds joy in the simplest of things. Come, let us go appreciate his work before he leaves.”

  They approached the source of the sound—an old man with a grey beard wearing a wrinkly hat. He was simply dressed, wearing something Shaden would expect from someone living in the slums. The man didn’t react but continued to pluck the strings of his lute. When Neregal sat down before the man, Shaden did the same.

  There was something nostalgic about the music. Listening to it took him back to the days when he first arrived in the world. He remembered that gentle breeze of the countryside; he remembered looking out of the window of their home. He smelled the first meal he was allowed, and the first time he ventured outside by himself…

  He felt a tinge of déjà vu. The man seemed oddly familiar.

  At last, the music finished. Shaden and Neregal clapped, and to his surprise, the elderly man bowed.

  Then their eyes met.

  “Ah.”

  A smile appeared on the elderly man’s lips.

  “It has been eleven years. I knew we would meet again.”

  Shaden’s eyes widened. His mind raced and began to reach for the memory that had been made long ago. Eleven years. When he was two. That meant—

  “You’re the street magician!” Shaden gasped. The man was older, and his hair had lightened, but indeed it was the same person he’d juggled with to earn some money. He’d bought dice with it.

  “I am,” the elderly man grinned. “How fate moves us! I have heard about your accomplishments.”

  “You have?”

  “Magister Neregal. Do give us a moment.”

  Neregal looked stunned, but bowed and left them. Shaden felt a barrier form around him and the elderly man.

  “Shaden Limen. Holder of the Dragon’s Favor and the Miracle of the Wall of Arrows. Perhaps the fireworks creator of the northwest and storm-bringer of Melern, among a few others.”

  There was no ill intent in the man’s words, but Shaden still began circulating.

  “How do you know this?” he questioned.

  “I am Hakken, Fourth Elder of the Saiton Consortium,” the man replied. “Don’t be surprised that we know many things.”

  “You have been spying on me?”

  “We keep an eye on all great things. You—”

  Elder Hakken pointed at him.

  “—are something extraordinary. But fear not. We are not chasing you; rather, you appear where our eyes are.”

  “Was this meeting intentional?”

  “I would like to ask you instead. What brings you here?”

  “I’m on a tour around the Empire.”

  “You are?”

  “And I wanted to learn how to create a mana circle.”

  “You do?”

  Elder Hakken stroked his beard, looking lost in thought.

  “I suppose Magister Neregal didn’t teach you.”

  “No.”

  “Where will you go?”

  “Clockwise, around the Empire.”

  “For how long?”

  “At most, four months.”

  “Hmm. Might I have a moment? A minute or two.”

  “Er—yes?”

  Elder Hakken closed his eyes. A short while later, he opened them and smiled.

  “If you are in need of a teacher,” he suggested, “I would be pleased to go with you.”

  Shaden’s eyes widened. “You would?”

  “I would.”

  The Ten Elders of the Consortium were the greatest mages of the era. To be taught by one of them would be an unimaginable opportunity. Shaden’s mouth opened to accept—but he remembered something.

  “I have a companion,” he told the man. “I will need her permission.”

  “Of course. Do know that I have no intention of interfering with your travels. I have places to be as well. If you accept, we shall meet at a set time. An hour or two, I suppose, before you sleep.”

  “Then I think it will be fine.”

  Elder Hakken smiled. “Allow me to place a mark on you so that I may find you.”

  Shaden nodded and stretched out his hand. The Elder touched it with his finger, and Shaden felt a light breeze on his skin. Something glowed and disappeared.

  “From today on, I shall be your tutor,” Elder Hakken declared. “You may call me Teacher.”

  “Thank you, Teacher,” Shaden answered. “Will I see you tonight?”

  “Perhaps tomorrow. I think I shall be busy tonight.”

  Elder Hakken undid the barrier and picked up his sack from the ground. Adjusting his rugged hat, he looked into the sky.

  “It’s a beautiful day to begin journeying,” the old man sighed. He turned to Shaden. “I shall see you soon.”

  And just like that, the man vanished before his eyes. The only trace of the Elder was the remnant mana that lingered where he’d been. Teleportation magic. He’d experienced it through portals, but this was a different kind.

  “I am so learning that,” he muttered to himself. Looking around, he found Neregal at a distance and flew to him. The mage looked at him with disbelief. He seemed to have many questions, but didn’t ask and instead nodded once.

  “I suppose it’s time to go,” he simply stated.

  And that marked the end of the tour.

  “Elder Hakken?” Eilae frowned. “I suppose that’s fine.”

  So Shaden got permission from her. The Saiton Consortium was strictly a neutral faction in politics, which was partly the reason why Eilae had allowed it. Also, it was always good to have ties with powerful people. It also wouldn’t interfere with their travels.

  “Might I observe?” she’d added.

  Of course, Shaden had agreed to it. There was no reason not to. So they spent the night in the city, getting up early in the morning to begin their travels. Shaden realized that he couldn’t hide them and the carriage anymore, as that would make it impossible for Elder Hakken to find them, but he guessed that it wouldn’t matter.

  The only side effect from this was that anyone who approached their carriage with ill intent would be met with an unfathomable feeling of dread that would cause them to swerve away. Well, it was their fault for having negative emotions. Even at the smallest hint of mischief, he replied with fear; as for mere curiosity, he made them cautious. So during their travel to the next city, not a single person approached them.

  It was better not to be known, after all. Apparently, news about his birthday celebration had spread throughout the Empire. Staying under cover was a wise decision.

  If there was one problem, it was that the cities further north were enclosed within walls. That meant that they had to pass through the gates, which also meant that the guards would check their identities.

  So Shaden did a little something to disguise them.

  “You are here to retrieve some books?” the guard questioned, examining the identification papers and permit.

  “Indeed,” Shaden’s servant nodded. “My master requires them for their studies. Here is something for your troubles.”

  The servant produced a large silver coin from his pocket and tossed it to the guard. The guard’s eyes immediately widened.

  “Of course! Please, head right in.”

  It was too easy. Eilae observed the process with awe, and once they were through, let out a gasp of excitement.

  “I didn’t know you could do this,” she muttered, looking at the servant. “I knew you’d learned from the Seines, but this is beyond capable.”

  Indeed, the servant that was seated at the front was an illusion Shaden had created; it was easy enough to transfer items outside using his concealing magic and telekinesis.

  “I’m always capable,” Shaden grinned.

  Eilae pursed her lips. “I take back my word.”

  “Why?”

  “Overconfidence is poison.”

  “Fine, fine.”

  They soon arrived at the famous inn Eilae had planned for them. She paid the fees for their room while he marveled at the building. Their horses and carriage would be taken care of, and all that was left for them to do was enjoy their stay. It was pricey, but that was what nobles did.

  “We’ll go watch a short play at the theater and dine at the oldest restaurant in the city,” Eilae briefed him after they’d arrived in their room. “Unless you’d prefer otherwise.”

  “No, I’m grateful,” Shaden told her. “There’s just one problem.”

  Eilae tilted her head. “Which is?”

  Shaden glanced around the room. One room. There were two beds, but even then! Surely it wasn’t appropriate for a young girl to share a room with a young boy.

  But…he didn’t dislike it.

  “You don’t snore, do you?”

  “............”

  Eilae stared daggers at him. It made him burst into laughter.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I haven’t seen you make such a face in a long time,” Shaden coughed, wiping the tears off his eyes. “It takes me back. But I think we slept in separate rooms before.”

  “It’s dangerous for a lady to be alone,” Eilae muttered, crossing her arms, “and Lytha isn’t here.”

  “Makes sense. So will we be sleeping together from now on?”

  Eilae’s eyes met his. Her expression was one of pure shock.

  “......well…that’s…!”

  Realization struck him. He threw his hands up in panic.

  “I meant, like, in the same room! Uh…yeah.”

  There was a moment of awkward silence.

  “Yes…in the same room,” Eilae repeated. “Now, do get dressed for the play. You first.”

  “Uh, right,” Shaden muttered, heading to the bathroom. After he shut the door behind him, he screamed internally and stared at himself in the mirror.

  His cheeks were red as tomatoes. He quickly circulated to bring his composure back and got dressed. Eilae had ordered Rose to pack his clothes, and he took out the ones that were meant for the occasion.

  “.........”

  Weren’t they kind of like a couple right now?

  Shaking his head, he emerged from the bathroom. Eilae was sitting on the bed with her clothes by her side. Seeing him come out, she picked up her attire.

  “...don’t peek,” she muttered as she passed him. Her face was red as well.

  “O-of course!” Shaden replied. Trying to speak calmly was difficult without circulating. He felt butterflies in his stomach after Eilae closed the door behind her.

  A few moments later, Eilae peeked out of the bathroom.

  “Can you tie my back?” she asked.

  It wasn’t anything new. When Lytha had been too lazy or overslept, he’d be the one to fasten the places on Eilae’s clothes where she couldn’t reach.

  He tried hard not to look at her bare skin as he hastily fastened the back of her dress. In three seconds, it was finished.

  “How does that feel?” he asked.

  “You’re good, like always,” she smiled. “You haven’t forgotten your knots.”

  “It’s more useful than you’d think. Tying up animals, tents, bags…”

  He trailed off. “Should I brush your hair?”

  “Please.”

  It was just like the old times. They were doing the same thing…only that everything was different. It was a nostalgic but strange feeling to feel Eilae’s silky hair in his fingers.

  He probably wasn’t thinking appropriately.

  Using magic, he expertly tied her hair together into a neat braid, loose around her head but complex at the ends, just like how Eilae had liked it. She’d preferred her hair neat when going to public places.

  She seemed surprised.

  “Did Lytha teach you this?” she asked.

  “Eh, she wouldn’t. I learned it from Beila and her friends. You know, Benavon Nieut’s daughter.”

  “I am aware of her,” Eilae replied blankly.

  Even without reading her, he could tell that he’d said something unnecessary. He made a mental note to himself not to mention other girls in front of Eilae.

  “Er—shall we head out?”

  “Hm.”

  He opened the door for her, and they headed downstairs. After informing the keeper, they emerged into the streets. A smaller, hired carriage was waiting for them, this time with a proper coachman. He tipped his hat when he saw them.

  “To the theater, my lord and lady?” he said.

  They got on, and it only took a short while to arrive. It was a sizable theater with finely dressed people of all shapes and sizes crowding into the entrance. Eilae took his arm, and they headed in as well, got their tickets checked, and moved to their seats, right in front of the stage. Shaden had no clue how she’d reserved it, given the amount of time they’d had. Lytha had always failed to reserve good spots for anything.

  “Didn’t we watch this before?” Shaden whispered to Eilae, recognizing the title of the play.

  Eilae’s lips curled up. “I knew you would remember. You didn’t join us for the final act, so…I wanted to finish it with you.”

  “Ah.”

  He felt his heart thump. Perhaps it was the drums that marked the beginning of the play.

  But he felt a thump. The narrator began speaking.

  “At last, Myrus and Ethis discovered a way for Ethis to return to the Den after their journey through the land of humans. Alas, Ethis confesses her love to Myrus…”

  The curtains drew back, revealing an elf (Shaden was surprised at the theater’s recruiting abilities) and a floating woman dressed as a fairy. The memory of the scene, though the actors were different, immediately rushed back to him.

  “Thou, sweetest Ethis, knowest that I know not love,” the elf pleaded. “Cease thy foolishness and return. Thy shimmering pains mine heart!”

  “But I adore you!” the fairy cried. “What use are songs and stories without a companion? Do not mention the spirits. I was like them, but my eyes have opened.”

  “Thou art dear to me. Yet this love thee mention, I knoweth not. Shall I lie to you? Mine own heart is true, and tells me to doth right.”

  Oh, right, Shaden recalled. This was a romantic play that a human had created for an elf he loved. Elves felt emotions differently from humans—they had no concept of romance, only obligation.

  But they adored spirits. Spirits (though Shaden had never seen one) were beings who mimicked the aspect of the first thing they were attracted to—be it nature, concepts, or ideas—when they emerged from their Den (presumably the Spirit Realm).

  The twist of the play was that a spirit, who had secretly ventured out to sate its curiosity, had taken on the form of a girl, resulting in her falling in love with the elf who had ardently done his best to help her get home. The elf was now torn between his fondness for the spirit and his reluctance for her human emotions.

  From what he'd learned, elves and humans hadn’t been on good terms. This was the play that had been the beginning of changing that, according to Eilae.

  It was the play that allowed elves to understand the human heart.

  Shaden watched with newfound interest, being immersed in a romantic play for the first time in his life. The feeling of loving but not being loved back…he could relate to it more.

  “You lie when you say you love me. I sense no love in your words.”

  “My heart knowest not the language of men—but what love I do possess is true. I seek to be with you always. Dost thou not recognize my sincerity?”

  “It is not obligation that I seek. I—I seek your love.”

  “Then I prayest that I might find it, that you willst know my heart.”

  The elves were—and still were—what someone might call communistic. Always for the society, never for the individual. When it mattered, they followed their elven ways. The elf helping the spirit in the play was also part of their nature; it wasn’t genuine love that moved the elf, but obligation.

  And it caused the spirit great anguish. The elf, truly unaware of ‘love,’ desperately tried to prove his dedication, making the situation worse, to the point where the spirit nearly destroyed herself.

  In the end, in another twist of fate, the Mother of Spirits granted the elf human emotions, allowing him for the first time to genuinely confess his love to the spirit. A great celebration transpired that included the spirits, humans, and elves they had met on their journey. The two would live on to spread the good news of love—a love so pure that even the Mother of Spirits had acknowledged it.

  After the play ended, Eilae brought up her thoughts.

  “I think the point is, even though Ethis was pained because she believed Myrus acted out of obligation, he, in fact, did have love for her,” Eilae commented. “It wasn’t the human kind, but Myrus was already acting selflessly. He gave up his mana for her, his very essence, to ensure her well-being. He stepped beyond helping and began sacrificing. Yet, Ethis was blind to see it.”

  “Well, it had a happy ending, didn’t it?” Shaden shrugged.

  “It did. But one can ask—are the emotions that the Mother of Spirits granted true? Or is it merely a kind of happy brainwashing?”

  “I was thinking of it as a translation. Elven to human.”

  “However, it did not come from within Myrus.”

  “He deeply wished for it. I think that makes it his.”

  Eilae turned her head and looked up at him.

  “Do you really think so? That his emotions were true?”

  He could sense the earnestness in her eyes. Why she was so eager about this, he was not sure.

  “Yes, I do think so,” he nodded. “If not, it would be too sad. I like happy endings, so I’ll believe that they were true.”

  It made Eilae smile.

  “Let’s go eat dinner, shall we?” she said.

  Their conversation quickly sank into the back of Shaden’s mind. And the genuine smile that Eilae had given him—

  He would never forget it.