Dawn of Ashes
I'll forget the weak me and start fresh here. It's nice getting people's attention, but having all eyes blatantly focused on me like this is a problem. Just imagining stepping up to the front and playing the assistant's role made my whole body go stiff. Save me! I shot Yisul a pleading look loaded with meaning, begging her to help.
"Sorry, I don't know much about magic either, so I can't step in for you this time." She'd said she handled spirits rather than being a proper mage, so yeah, that tracks. Betrayed by the one person I trusted, I glanced around—everyone was staring at me with eyes full of eager anticipation.
"Looks like there's only one person here everyone knows who can use magic. Would that be okay?" My heart was pounding like crazy, faster than ever. What if I mess up in front of everyone watching? Won't I just embarrass myself? I mulled over embarrassing memories from the past. Standing up on the teacher's order to read from the Korean textbook and biting my tongue. Showing a comic I'd drawn to a friend I thought was close, only to get a lukewarm reaction that left us drifting apart. Not as much dark history as I thought. Probably because I was never outgoing to begin with. They seemed like nothing now, but back then, I'd kicked off the covers a few times in frustration. Anyway, I imagined what it'd be like climbing onto that podium now. Thirty or so people watching—I could screw up. Maybe even get teased. The old me never would've stepped up for something like this. But the current me... now that I've entered the tower and gotten this new chance... couldn't I push myself a little?
"Seha, if it's too much, I can tell them you can't do it."
She must've taken my endless fretting for anxiety, because she asked in a worried tone. In that instant, I shot up from my seat and shouted.
"I'll do it! Assistant."
The words were out before I could stop them, and regret came flooding in too late. Did I just charge ahead too impulsively? And what was that—"I'll do it! Assistant." Who says it like that? Just "I'll be the assistant" would've been fine. Small mercy: Jeonghyeon didn't even give me time to dwell, jumping right in.
"Thank you so much for helping. Please come on up front. Everyone, how about a round of applause for our little miss?"
His words sparked cheers and applause. That guy waving over there is the uncle I met on the way to the cafeteria earlier, and the voice yelling "Seha fighting!" has to be Yisul without checking. With all that support from the crowd, the pressure definitely eased up. Once the mood settled, Jeonghyeon began the magic lecture.
"First things first: sensing mana. Everyone, take your staff in hand. Can you feel the mana surrounding you?"
I followed his instructions and picked up my staff. I couldn't sense mana at all when I first grabbed a staff on 1F—do the others have no trouble?
"Next up is today's key point: converting that mana into your personal attribute."
Converting to an attribute probably meant something like when I ignited my flame magic—infusing intent into the mana connected to me. He'd just named that process "attribute conversion."
"It's normal if 'attribute' doesn't quite click yet. Let me show you with an example of how I think about it. A rock splits into gravel, gravel wears down to sand, sand to soil—naturally. So, what's the origin of soil?"
The question was so abstract that no one answered. Jeonghyeon, waiting for a response, turned to me.
"What do you think, little miss?"
He'd been calling me "little miss" nonstop, and it was getting under my skin in all sorts of ways. Oh right! I never introduced myself. He had no name to use, so "little miss" it was. Too late now, but better late than never.
"My name is Seha Jeong."
He pondered my words for a second, then nodded like it clicked.
"Got it, Miss Seha. After yesterday's big incident, pretty much everyone knows you, but introductions are important."
Makes sense. I'd heard Yisul explained everything—including my story—in front of everyone last night. And since they were here for magic out of interest, they'd all remembered me from then. So he does know my name—he just has a thing for calling people 'little miss'? I slapped a mental "dislike" sticker on him, the sleazy kind.
"Back to the point: what do you think soil's origin is, Miss Seha?"
"Um... atoms?"
From his look, not the answer he wanted. Politician background—he's probably a humanities guy. They might not know atoms.
"Not atoms—maybe mana?"
"Half right. Strictly speaking, I assume there's some primordial something that makes up mana, soil, and all matter. For convenience, I call it ether."
"Ether?"
"Ether floating freely holds energy as mana. Take on soil's attribute, it becomes soil; fire's, fire; water's, water. Like the Stone Bullet skill I showed earlier..."
Someone in the audience quietly raised a hand.
"So what exactly is this 'attribute' thing?"
Jeonghyeon answered like he'd been waiting.
"That's your homework. Define the world on your own terms, base your understanding on that, and use mana energy to cast magic—that's the goal."
Listening to him sparked some thoughts for me too. How do I understand magic? Is it okay to just see mana as a lump of energy?
Now he explained his own definition of soil's attribute.
"For me, soil is circulation. The starting point of all life. And the inevitable end for all life. I manifested magic capturing that sensation."
"Hold on!"
Yisul raised her hand from the back.
"Assuming you've deepened your understanding of attributes, how do you do the attribute conversion you emphasized, teacher?"
"Once you've grasped attributes, it's simple. Draw a magic circle that imparts your understanding as an attribute onto mana."
He paused, then tossed a question my way.
"Methods for manifesting magic vary by person, right? How do you do it, Miss Seha?"
This time, he passed it to me right when I could explain to Yisul. I'd always leaned on her, so I wanted to look cool for once—perfect timing.
"As for how I use magic..."
How did I use it? Didn't I just crudely slam the image of "gather mana in one spot and BOOM" into it until it exploded? It wasn't calculated activation—more like lucky success. No concrete way to explain like Jeonghyeon. Guess I'd improvise with sound effects.
"Well, you gather mana in one place, pour in a grrrraaah feeling, focus on explodeee, and then boom—it blows up."
Of course, the stares went ice-cold. Even Yisul couldn't defend that one, hand on her forehead in pity. I wanted to crawl into a hole! Way more embarrassing than those old dark histories.
It really works that way, though—how do I explain it better?
Face burning red, fidgeting, when a voice called from afar.
"Why not just demonstrate the magic directly?"
The uncle who'd waved when I came up.
Telling me to show instead of explain lame theory? Sounded dumb. But a big show might have more impact than half-baked words. Let's do it now!
"Then I'll show you my magic directly. Watch closely and try to follow."
Jeonghyeon beside me and Yisul in the back looked worried, but neither stopped me. Tacit approval, right?
Connecting ambient mana to me first—easy. Problem's next.
First step: observe the staff's core. It pulses mana in cycles like my heartbeat. Each vibration of the magic circle inside syncs with surrounding mana rippling outward in circles.
Second: why did swinging the staff amplify the mana waves? Does the motion itself boost intensity? I swung it around—no change. Tapped the ground experimentally: meaningful difference. The core's shock sped up its vibrations, quickening the waves. But intensity unchanged.
Last: what if I overlap these mana waves? They merge seamlessly. Same shape? Intensity doubles. Finally, I got it—that's what I did yesterday. Slammed the staff to speed vibrations, swung wildly until waves stacked by chance, building power.
Yesterday was luck; today, calculate and build it deliberately!
I stood at the podium's edge and suddenly slammed my staff into the ground. Curious stares, but I ignored them, prepping the next step. Core vibrating furiously from the impact, spewing mana. Eyes closed, I synced my senses to it—ignoring eyes, noise, everything but the core's pulse.
Final step: swing at precise timing to layer waves. Senses matched, no sweat. A few swings forward, and the mana tsunami from before reappeared.
The crowd finally got it, gasping—they'd never seen artificial mana amplification. The old me struggled with huge waves; now, fully grasping them, it was a breeze. I infused intent into the mana, targeting the distant ground.
What to name this spell? Right—forget the weak me, new start here. Burn the past to ash, dawn a new morning atop it.
Dawn of Ashes
Chanting the name triggered a massive shockwave that swept over me.