The Twilight Firefly
A few days after taking Erika on as an assistant, I turned twelve. The birthday party passed like a storm, accompanied by a chorus of well-wishes from every corner. There were mountains of gift boxes sent by the Merkur Merchant Guild, my father’s tearful, over-the-top display of affection as he sobbed, "Our Julian is already twelve!", and even Freya, who awkwardly handed me a handkerchief as she wished me a happy birthday.
After the chaotic party ended and dinner was finished, I had just returned to my room to check my gifts when—knock, knock. I opened the door to find my mother standing there. For a split second, I thought I was seeing a ghost. It was the middle of the night when everyone was asleep, and she had come herself, not sending a servant or a maid.
"Julian, come to the study for a moment."
Her face was incredibly serious. I felt a surge of tension and followed her without even asking why. 'What is it? What on earth is going on?'
The atmosphere in front of the study was grim in more ways than one. There were guards stationed on both sides of the hallway, and two more standing on either side of the study door. The hallway, which usually only had one guard, was now filled with four, and I felt my body tense up involuntarily. As my mother and I passed, the guards bowed their heads without a word. Seeing these men, who usually greeted me warmly, act so stiff made the situation feel truly grave.
Click— The guard opened the door in silence. The door swung wide. My father was waiting inside. The door closed behind me, and my mother locked it from the inside.
"Sit down, Julian."
My father pointed to the sofa. The atmosphere was heavy—heavy enough that it wouldn't have been strange if a secret about my birth had suddenly come to light. Was I not adopted, but actually an illegitimate child? 'No way.' Since both of them were just staring at me without a word, I was so nervous that I tried to crack a joke to myself to ease the tension.
Finally, breaking the silence, my father spoke.
"You are twelve years old now."
"Yes. Thanks to you, I have been able to grow up safely."
"That is not something a child your age should be saying... *Sigh*. Never mind."
The head of the family let out a sigh. "I called you here because this isn't something I could say at the birthday party. According to Imperial law, you can begin learning magic at twelve. Are you aware of this?"
"Yes, I am aware."
The abilities required to handle magic are largely two: the minimal cognitive ability to understand the world, and the physical sense to feel mana. These two factors are generally considered to reach the minimum requirements by the age of twelve.
My father nodded, saying he liked that I was quick to understand. "So, you must now learn how to become a noble."
How to become a noble. As soon as I heard that, I understood why the atmosphere was so solemn. Magic was the minimum condition for becoming a noble. Not every mage becomes a noble, but every noble must know how to handle magic. That is the only way to fulfill the duties of a noble.
'So that was the reason.' Only then did I understand the heavy atmosphere. The transmission of magic is a major family affair. Depending on who learns it, one might identify the next successor, and depending on what kind of magic is learned, one can predict the future path of the family to some extent. Naturally, there was no benefit in making it known to the outside world.
"Good. I will inform you of the schedule ahead."
It goes without saying, but there is an order to learning magic, just as there are elementary, middle, and high school courses in basic education.
"First, let us have you learn the basics from a private tutor."
A private tutor teaches, quite literally, only the foundations of magic: the properties of magic, basic formulas, principles of activation, and discovering which types of magic I have an aptitude for. However, they teach nothing beyond that, no matter what. This is because once a mage has grasped the basics, they must walk their own path. If the path they intend to take aligns with the tutor's, the relationship may continue, but usually, they part ways there and move on to the next stage.
However, my father kept his words brief on that part. "That is a story for another time, so let us discuss it later. Even the private tutor course usually takes three years."
My mother, who had been listening quietly beside my father, smiled softly. "Don't push yourself too hard, and learn slowly."
Facing that smile, I couldn't bring myself to say it. That it probably wouldn't take more than a few months.
Three months later.
"...Is this even possible?" Tutor Schmidt muttered with a dazed expression. He was someone my mother had hired, and I heard he was the top private tutor for the nobility. He really was a good teacher.
"I have been teaching for over thirty years, but this is my first time seeing such a case."
"It is because you taught me so well, sir."
"No. I simply taught as I always do. You may be proud of that part."
That’s a bit embarrassing to hear.
"Especially in alchemy, there is nothing left for me to teach. Your understanding of the structure and transformation of matter is..."
"I was a bit familiar with that part."
"Familiar, you say?"
"There were... circumstances."
I couldn't say, 'Because I'm a director at a pharmaceutical guild,' so I just smiled it off. I packaged it as simply having a lot of interest in that field. The tutor didn't ask further and nodded.
"I think you should pursue the path of alchemy, young master."
Yes. I am already pursuing it. I even have a company. It's huge. It was just promoted to a 2nd-class guild.
"..."
"..."
The tutor, having finished his words, closed his mouth. He clearly looked like he had something more to say, but he kept his thoughts to himself and bid me farewell.
"It was a pleasure teaching you, student Julian. I hope we can meet again if fate allows."
"Thank you for the past three months as well."
"It was my pleasure; it has been a long time since I felt such reward in teaching. Thank you."
The tutor left the room with a gentle smile. As soon as I sent him off, I checked to make sure no one was around and approached the bed. Then, I buried my face in the pillow and let out a groan.
"Ughhh..."
It was hard pretending to be fine on the outside. I thought I could just coast through with my 21st-century scientific knowledge. After all, I had been on a track that I prided myself on as an elite even in the 21st-century science field. I thought I could finish the whole course in three months and end it with, 'Ah, is this all there is to magic in this world? It’s so boring I could die.' But life isn't that easy.
The scientific principles were the same. The problem was that there wasn't 'only' science. I had to know folklore, mythology, and even religious and philosophical symbolism.
'Why is salt a 'symbol' that drives away evil spirits?'
'Why is silver an 'inhibitor' for werewolves?'
'Why is lead a 'catalyst' that traps souls?'
I don't know. It's just that way because it's that way. In this world, those laws are gravity and electromagnetism.
'And what is this about the caster's mindset?'
Symbolism, inhibition, catalysts, mindset, faith, intention... and adding scientific knowledge on top of that. For a rational and logical 21st-century surgeon, magic was a discipline with too many superstitious variables.
Still, as someone pursuing the 'genius' persona, I couldn't allow myself to stutter in class. So, I would preview the material the day before and then act like a genius who understood it instantly the next day.
'This genius concept... I can't keep doing this.'
But if I left it like this, the persona would break. So I had to vent my frustrations periodically, even if only in my head. Wow, finished in three months? Crazy, absolutely crazy. ...Damn it. Trying to act like a stork when I'm just a little bird is killing my legs.
'I shouldn't have set the goal to finish in three months...'
Still, I couldn't compromise. It wouldn't look right if a genius protagonist spent the full three years learning magic just because the curriculum was three years. So I studied with a speedrun mentality, but this was not something to be doing. Thanks to that, I got a taste of the life of a South Korean examinee for the first time in 25 years. Good luck to all the examinees. You must be having a hard time. But you have to keep studying even after you get into university. Too bad.
'In other stories, they learn it with a single click...'
Wasn't magic in other stories not like this? It was engraved in their bodies when they woke up, or a skill window popped up while they were sleeping. Or, since it's a fantasy world, learning it one by one was supposed to be exciting and release dopamine. What is this? Give me that easy path too.
'...Well, anyway, it's over, so that's that.'
The rest is just waiting. If I've put in this much effort, the power of misunderstanding will take care of the rest.
At that moment, while Julian was pouring out his emotions into his 'bamboo forest'—his pillow—Tutor Schmidt visited the study to report the final results.
"So, what is it you have to say, Tutor?"
Julian's parent, Hendel, asked. Across the desk, Schmidt let out a heavy sigh. The gentle smile he had shown Julian just moments ago was nowhere to be found.
"...Baron. May I speak frankly?"
"Go ahead."
Schmidt opened his mouth cautiously. "Please do not misunderstand what I am about to say. The young master's talent for following along is superior to anyone else's. In terms of theory, he is more excellent than any student I have ever taught."
Schmidt paused after finishing his sentence. Countless worries swirled in his head. Would it really be okay to relay this as it is? It was news that could cause the head of the house to throw an ashtray at his head at any moment. He had met many such nobles in his time. However, Schmidt steeled his heart and spoke.
"However, the dream of becoming a mage... I think it would be best to set it aside."
"...What do you mean by that?"
At Linier's follow-up question, the tutor hurriedly bowed his head. Even though he had packaged his words well, the meaning behind them was incredibly rude. To interpret it: Your son has no practical talent. Just have him do research. That was the gist of it.
Beside Hendel, Linier's hand, which had been listening to the explanation, stopped over her teacup.
"Could you explain in more detail what you mean, Tutor?"
"Yes, Madam. We held a practical exam in the latter part of the lessons."
Schmidt counted on his fingers to list the subjects covered in the lessons.
"His theory was perfect. Ice, lightning, fire, alchemy... While ordinary young nobles tend to show talent in only one area, the young master was proficient in all of them. He completely understands the principles of the formulas."
"Then what is the problem?"
"Even though he understands the theory, he cannot actually activate them."
Hendel's brow furrowed. "Not even one?"
"Yes. Not even one." Schmidt sighed. "Baron, Baroness. In magic, theory and practice are different."
Schmidt wrote letters in the air with his finger. It was a basic conditional statement from a workbook that nobles memorize like a formula.
"In theory, don't you start by assuming conditions? 'You wish to activate magic in a at 32 degrees Celsius with 85% humidity.' Like that."
"That is correct."
"Under these assumed conditions, the young master constructs the formula perfectly. The problem is..." Schmidt trailed off. "In practice, no one tells you these conditions."
"..."
"Some places are 30 degrees, others are 14. Humidity changes in real-time, and once you activate magic, the conditions change again. Furthermore, the symbolism imbued in each location is different."
Linier, understanding what the tutor was trying to say, asked cautiously.
"Is it possible that Julian cannot feel the symbolism?"
"Yes."
On the other hand, Hendel, who lacked knowledge in this area, crossed his arms and demanded a more detailed explanation. "Explain a little more. I am a layman in this field. What do you mean by symbolism?"
"Let's use ice as an example." Schmidt spread his palm and created a small shard of ice. "To activate ice right here, you must first grasp the temperature and humidity with your skin. At the same time, you must read the 'energy of stillness and oblivion' imbued in this space."
"Hmm..."
"If it were lightning, in addition to the 'sense to read the potential difference and atmospheric state,' you would need the 'sense to find where the energy of rage and arrogance gathers.'"
"Is that what he lacks?"
"Yes. The young master lacks both magical physical sense and sensitivity."
At those words, Linier set down her teacup and nodded. "Indeed, those things cannot be taught."
Schmidt bowed his head. "The young master understands perfectly with his head. It is just that his body cannot follow."
Silence flowed. Hendel broke the silence and spoke.
"...So what is the conclusion?"
"Among the nobility, people like the young master are called 'Twilight Fireflies.'"
Twilight Fireflies. Hendel knew the metaphor. They shine brightly at dusk, only to disappear when night falls. It was a term for young nobles who shine brilliantly in their childhood but fail to join the ranks of the nobility as adults.
"Are you certain, Tutor?"
Hendel's brow furrowed at the metaphor. Schmidt nodded.
"It seems the young master has no choice but to walk the path of a magician."
Magician. A class that only researches formulas, must pre-draw them, or relies on the help of magical tools to barely use magic. It wasn't that they couldn't become nobles, but it was a very difficult path.
"Then is it truly difficult for him to be a mage?"
"A mage is..."
A mage was a class that could freely use magic in that location as long as they had a magic staff. Naturally, it was not difficult for such elites to become nobles. However, "I apologize." Julian was not that type. Schmidt didn't bother explaining this. Even without hearing it to the end, Hendel knew the meaning.
"I understand."
Hendel's voice sank. In the Empire, a magician is merely a technician; they are not considered a mage capable of maintaining a title. To explain this situation by borrowing Julian's expression, Tutor Schmidt was saying this:
- Your son doesn't seem like he can get into medical school, so it would be better to look for other talents.
It’s not that he has no talent. It’s just that his talent isn't in a socially convenient direction. While Julian himself considered it a trivial matter, it hit his parents differently.
"Tutor. Just tell me this. Do you think that child, Julian, will be able to inherit the noble title?"
For a noble, magic is a weapon and a means of success before it is an academic discipline. Their privileges stem from the military power to fight against the monsters outside the walls. Therefore, Hendel's worry was valid. No matter how outstanding his talent, if Julian could not become a mage... he would likely be the first to be pushed out of the food chain of noble society.
"Speak without holding back, Tutor."
"He could succeed as a magician or a scholar. But as a noble or a mage..."
Schmidt trailed off. A painful look crossed Hendel's eyes. He knew the ruthlessness of this ecosystem better than anyone. But that was only for a moment; Hendel nodded.
"I understand. Thank you for telling me."
"Then. I will be taking my leave, Baron."
After Tutor Schmidt left, a heavy silence descended upon the study. By the time the steam rising from the teacup had faded, Hendel broke the silence first.
"My dear."
"Yes."
"I was a dullard."
Linier turned her head. "Why are you saying that all of a sudden?"
"I was born slow, so it took me five years just to master the basics of magic. And even then, I barely learned it with my body." Hendel looked out the window. "But it was fine. My body followed. Even if your head is slow, if you have the sense, magic somehow works out."
Linier did not answer.
"But Julian is the opposite. His head is ten times better than mine, but they say his body doesn't follow."
"...Yes."
"Isn't that even more cruel?"
Linier's hand gripped her skirt. Cruel. It was true. He understands, but he cannot do it. Linier knew better than anyone how frustrating that was. That was also the reason the Nihilit family had to take Hendel in as a son-in-law.
"*Sigh*... Let's not tell Julian."
Hendel said. "I don't think knowing will do him any good."
"...You're right."
Linier also nodded. But a corner of her heart felt heavy. Falling from nobility. That was because it meant more than just a change in status.
'This world has no mercy for those who fall.'
Linier recalled what her mother had told her when she was young. Those above trample your wings so you cannot rise again. Those below tear your limbs apart to build a ladder. And those even further below just hack away at what remains for the sake of venting their anger. That is why the people of the Empire struggle so desperately. Not to rise, but to avoid falling.
"I hoped Julian wouldn't have to go through the same experience as me..."
Linier covered her face with both hands. How painful and anxious her time had been before meeting her husband. Hendel, knowing that fact well, hugged her.
"It will be fine, my dear."
Hendel's heart felt like it was being torn apart as well. But at the same time, he did not let go of the string of hope.
"Isn't he the child who performed miracles?"
He knew well what kind of miracles Julian had achieved through effort. "If it is that child, he will be fine."
From the position of having watched that fact from the closest place, he believed in Julian. Even though he knew how arduous that path would be. As a parent, he would simply support that path.
And at that time. In the laboratory.
"Hehe."
Julian let out a foolish laugh while peering into a flask. 'I should have learned magic sooner.'
Julian already knew better than anyone that he could not become a mage. But that did not lead to frustration. It was common sense in this genre that if one route is blocked, an irregular route opens up.
'It means I should go with alchemy.'
He giggled while looking at the pig intestines bubbling in the flask. 'Do I really need to become a mage? Temperature control works just fine with life magic.'
Anyway, for him, the protagonist of a misunderstanding story, the fact that he couldn't become a mage was a matter of no consequence.