You're a Mage Too
The news studio was a whirlwind of cameras in constant motion.
Even though it was the usual hour for a live news broadcast, the ON AIR light burned bright while something entirely unexpected filled the airwaves.
If anyone thought they heard a voice muttering something like Today’s broadcast is~ the live debut of a ridiculously pretty anchor learning magic~~, that was purely their imagination.
I had already pressed a ballpoint pen—transformed into a rose—into Anchor Cha Yu-rim’s hand.
A plain pretty rose-shaped pen would have been useless for what came next, so I had quietly poured mana into it, turning the thing into a temporary wand of sorts.
—Ping!
The rose pen in Cha Yu-rim’s grip resonated with my mana and began to glow with a faint light.
I rose from my seat and stepped toward her as her eyes went wide with alarm.
“It’s not dangerous, so just relax…”
Cha Yu-rim had gone stiff as a board, pupils trembling. Between the cameras, Director Jang Jae-hong kept nodding as if to say, Keep going.
“Mind if I take your hands for a moment?”
I reached around from behind her in a loose back-hug, and I felt her freeze even harder. The posture was a little awkward, but it made guiding her easier, so there was no helping it.
No ulterior motives. Really. Just practical necessity…
“Ahem. From this moment on, this rose is a magic wand. You know the kind mages use, right?”
A bright floral scent drifted up. Shampoo, maybe?
“Yes…”
I would have to supply the mana myself. There wasn’t a drop of it inside Cha Yu-rim’s body, so external mana was required. Teaching her to sense it properly and all the rest would take days.
So I was using a little cheat. Back in the other world this was the same method we used for kids who hadn’t awakened magic yet—just a hands-on experience. Perfectly safe. Please participate with confidence.
Besides, the process of mana taking on properties and turning into a phenomenon was closer to a chemical reaction than anything else…
I had already prepared the temporary wand to handle that part as well.
If both the mana and the manifestation process were skipped, what exactly was left for Cha Yu-rim to do?
“Now close your eyes… and try picturing the shape of a flame.”
Imagining the phenomenon she wanted to create.
…In truth it wasn’t all that important. It looked grand, but it was actually the lowest barrier in the whole process of casting magic. Even so, I still needed to give her a little help here.
“A flame?”
What kind of help?
If she suddenly pictured the entire broadcasting station going up in flames, we would be in serious trouble. I had to limit the scale, the intensity, and the scope of her imagination.
“Nothing big. Just a little candle flame. The outer flame almost transparent but red, the inner flame bright sunny yellow, the wick flame a clear blue. It should flicker gently if the wind blows…”
Anyone who had studied magic properly would have noticed—this was pure stagecraft, a performance of the casting process. Later she would have to grind through real practice if she ever wanted to cast without me, but right now there was no time. I planned to wrap the whole thing up in three minutes at most.
“You need to imagine the phenomenon in greater detail. Sight, sound, and beyond that—all five senses…”
As I spoke I began feeding a thin stream of mana into the back of her hand. In theory those threads would flow to her heart and lay the foundation of a vessel for storing mana.
It was only theory, so there was no guarantee a vessel would actually form, but even laying the groundwork would count as success.
Truth be told… this was the first time I had ever tried injecting mana from the outside to create a vessel. Not dangerous, but the results were completely untested.
Still, if Cha Yu-rim’s aptitude was good enough, there was a real chance.
Little by little. Starting from the back of her hand and spreading slowly through her whole body. At the same time I conjured faint clusters of light that gathered and drifted wherever the mana moved—an illusion for the cameras.
The cameramen needed something to film, after all. Otherwise this would look like the world’s dullest traditional-medicine documentary.
Even space documentaries take near-infrared and other invisible wavelengths of beautiful nebulae, black holes, and star clusters and slap CG on top of them.
Cha Yu-rim shivered as a strange sensation began to prickle at her fingertips.
“O-oh? Something feels weird…”
“Focus on that sensation. Like cold water flowing through your veins…”
“Ugh…”
“Mana is about to gather in your heart. Don’t panic.”
I pulled every scrap of mana circulating through her body and concentrated it into her heart in a single instant.
I felt a little sorry for all the mage apprentices I had taught in the past. The stage they had needed a month at the shortest and more than ten years at the longest to reach… and here was a teacher and student cheating their way through it.
“Hup.”
The first time you arrive, it feels like cool toothpaste spreading across your heart—the true entry into the world of magic.
“There. A mana vessel has formed in your heart.”
In one minute flat I had produced a Lower-class Mage capable of casting real spells. I had only half-believed it would actually work.
Even planting the seed of a vessel would have been a solid result, but seeing a genuine vessel take shape told me she had real talent.
“Now gather that mana and send it to your fingertips. Imagine it.”
Cha Yu-rim scrunched her face and twitched her fingers. I had been ready to help the mana along, but she was already controlling it herself, drawing it into her hand.
Whoa—not quite once-in-a-millennium talent, but the kind of control that maybe ten percent of newly certified Lower-class Mages showed every year. Still impressive. Mm-hmm.
It had taken me more than a year to control mana for the first time.
“You’ve got quite a bit of talent.”
“I do?”
“Open your eyes.”
A tiny flame was already flickering above the rose wand in Cha Yu-rim’s hand.
“Waaah!”
“Whoa.”
“That actually worked?”
News staff who should never have been audible on air couldn’t hold back their gasps of wonder.
“Hieeek.”
Cha Yu-rim’s eyes flew open so wide they looked ready to pop out, and she froze solid.
Total time elapsed: one minute.
Magic! Faster than instant ramen!
Two minutes of screen adjustment and commercial break.
The studio, which had been awash in excitement and panic, settled almost at once, and filming resumed.
“That was a bit sudden. Sorry about that.”
“I’m fine.”
“Stand by!”
—Sparkle!
After a brief apology for the less-than-smooth production hiccup, the interview restarted with a video call.
“This is Peter Baerbock, Secretary-General of the United Nations.”
The real-time Korean subtitles were neat, but I had translation magic of my own.
I dipped my head in greeting as well.
“Yuria.”
The man on the screen was a Westerner with short-cropped gold hair and the look of someone who would have played the rugby-team ace in a high-school drama.
How to put it… the classic popular macho cool-guy type.
“First, the United Nations General Assembly wishes to raise the following points in this discussion. Number one…”
He went on at length, but the summary was simple.
First: give a concrete explanation of whatever threat had arrived on Earth.
Second: prove that I myself posed no threat to humanity.
Third: confirm whether the South Korean government had detained, confined, or otherwise violated my human rights.
Mmm… the first two I could answer easily enough. The third one felt a little sticky.
On the surface it sounded like concern for me, an offer of international help if I needed it…
“Shall we start with the third question…? Hmm…”
Whining They locked me up, waaah would have been undignified.
More importantly, if the Korean government suddenly looked weak, the country might no longer be able to protect me.
“The South Korean government is protecting me. My freedom is guaranteed, and I’ve been issued full citizenship and identification.”
I watched Secretary-General Peter nod on the other side of the screen and continued.
“At first it did feel a bit like detention, but it was simply the investigation and administrative process required for someone like me. Nothing exceeded the bounds set by law. Does that answer the question?”
I smiled brightly and gave the camera a little shrug.
Peter nodded.
“I see. So you are claiming there was no human-rights violation whatsoever?”
Why phrase it that way? A simple “So everything’s fine?” would have been enough. Stretching it into “you are claiming…” made me wonder what he was after.
I felt a prickle of unease at simply agreeing. Was there some angle here?
I tapped the table lightly with my pen and chose my words with care.
“If I had to name a human-rights issue… they won’t let me drink too much cola? And I need permission to leave the designated area. There are a few other things if you dig deep enough, but…”
“But?”
“They clearly explained the purpose of every restriction on my basic rights, I agreed to them, and I believe the compensation has been more than adequate.”
“I understand. Thank you for your answer.”
Did I clear that okay? Yeah?
I took a long drink from the plastic water bottle and replayed every word for possible slip-ups.
Hmm…
Hmmm…
No idea. If something went wrong, the higher-ups would handle it.
“Then… let’s move on to the first question.”
I just needed to do what I could right now.
What threat loomed over humanity, what I intended to do about it, and how I planned to protect this place.
It was time to explain it all to the people.