A Tearful Farewell to Normal Life
London's cool morning breeze still lingered in the children's hair just before first period. Opening the windows for ventilation let hazy morning sunlight, mixed with fine dust, lick across the classroom floor. As the latecomers rushed in, panting, and dumped their bags, the classroom door swung open and the homeroom teacher appeared.
"Kids, everyone take your seats!"
The kids scrambled awkwardly to their spots at the sound of her tapping the podium. Her gaze lingered on Park Seojun, who sat indifferently at the very back by the window, organizing his pencil case.
"Okay, everyone pay attention. There's some important news for our class."
"What is it?"
"Sadly, our Seojun is transferring out after this semester. He's heading abroad to study, and even I feel bad about it."
The moment the teacher finished speaking, time seemed to freeze in the classroom. After about two seconds, cries mixed with screams erupted from the kids.
"Eh?! No way!"
"Teacher, you're joking, right? Please!"
"Abroad?! Not a trip, but actually living there?"
"Nooo! Teacher, Seojun can't even speak English—how's he supposed to go there?!"
The classroom turned into total chaos, with whispers buzzing everywhere.
"Study abroad? What's that?"
"You don't know? Studying abroad means going to school in another country."
The short-haired little girl in the front row, who especially adored Seojun, had gone pale as she whipped around to stare at him. But Seojun's face remained as impassive as if he were hearing about someone else.
"Seojun, come up front and tell your friends yourself, okay?"
"Sure."
At the teacher's call, Seojun slowly stood up. Gasps rippled through the room as all eyes locked onto him. As always, he walked to the front with a blank expression—no hint of panic or sadness. His steps carried a faint air of annoyance as he casually climbed the podium and stood beside the teacher.
Compared to the other boys, he was a bit shorter and slimmer. Yet his calm demeanor and deep eyes gave him a far more mature vibe that drew everyone's gaze. To the girls, who were at that age of idolizing grown-ups, Seojun wasn't just a friend—he was like a prince straight out of a fairy tale.
Standing by the podium, Seojun swept his eyes over the class. Some girls looked up at him with eyes brimming with tears on the verge of spilling. The boys clenched their jaws, sneaking glances at Taewoong in the corner.
They all looked like a bunch of startled meerkats. Seeing their bright, eager eyes staring up at him, he couldn't help thinking they were kinda cute.
Hmm, what should I say here?
"Well... that's how it is. I'm bummed too, but the future comes first, y'know? Somehow ended up going abroad. I'll probably keep studying there. Sorry for dropping it so suddenly. And whoever yelled I can't speak English? I speak it just fine."
"Seojun! Does that mean we'll never see you again?"
"You're gonna live there forever?"
Desperate questions poured in the second he finished. Seojun scratched his cheek awkwardly and answered half-heartedly.
"It's a boarding school, and I'm going alone, so I'll come home every break. Probably not moving permanently."
"Then you'll leave our group chat too?"
"I was never in it to begin with?"
"Hiiing... too bad!"
Hoo boy. Some kids' eyes welled up as they fought back tears with trembling lips. Even Taewoong in the back looked the same. After all their bickering over the years, hearing he was leaving actually bugged him—he let out a tch and scowled irritably.
Though Seojun spoke indifferently, seeing how much they hated it tugged at his heartstrings more than expected. Maybe because his body was still a kid's—their sadness was contagious.
The teacher stepped in to calm the chaos.
"Alright! To send off our transferring student Seojun, let's make a rolling paper."
She hoisted up a massive sheet of hardboard.
"First, let's push the desks together to make space?"
"Yes!"
The kids' enthusiastic reply boomed as desks scraped across the floor—dragging noises everywhere. The girls, as if on cue, pulled out colorful pens from their bags.
"One by one, write a message for Seojun on a paper, then we'll take photos to stick on the rolling paper."
The teacher pulled out an old Polaroid camera from the bag she'd prepared the day before.
"Woooow!!"
Her determination to create one last fun memory with the class before Seojun left shone through. And so the tearful farewell party began—and left Seojun utterly drained before it ended.
The seasons flew by in a flash. Our family of three traveled everywhere to make as many memories as possible, snapping tons of photos. Luckily, I'd used English a lot in my previous world, so I managed to brush up to a level with no real communication issues.
The day to leave for magic school arrived. A portly man with a turban on his head showed up at our door.
"Nice to meet you. You're Park Seojun, right?"
"Hello."
"My name's Nil Kapoor. I heard you speak English fluently—mind if we chat in English? My Korean's still pretty rough."
"Sure, that's fine."
Nil Kapoor slowly scanned the boy standing confidently before him from head to toe, his gaze finally settling on the child's shadow.
"Seeing you up close, I get it now. That's no ordinary shadow. No formal training, yet your talent shines through."
Prestigious families usually equipped young, unpolished kids with protections—like escorts or early systematic training. But this kid was different. He'd instinctively grasped mystery and let his senses guide him purely on talent. It was dangerous, but the mark of a great wizard.
"Good. If you're ready, let's head out."
Lee Suyeong hugged her son one last time.
"Son, pack well, take care of yourself, call if anything's tough, got it? Or should Mom come to England too?"
"I'm good. It's a boarding school—no visits during term anyway. You and Dad need to keep earning here so I can stay in school. No tuition, but living costs a ton, they said."
We'd already shelled out a fortune for enrollment supplies. The bureau offered help, but Park Seongmin politely refused, saying it felt like using his son as collateral.
After that heartfelt parent-child goodbye, I followed Nil Kapoor out of the house. As the car hit the main road and boredom set in, I asked him,
"Where are we headed now? Through some fireplace? Or a flying carriage?"
"Haha, seen a lot of movies, huh? Sure, some reflect reality, but it's a bit different. We're going to the airport. Spatial magic's too risky, and planes are way faster than flying carriages."
"Wizards aren't that special, huh."
"If it's rational and efficient, no need to stick to magic. Don't get too disappointed yet—you'll see plenty of mysterious magic at school to bore you of it."
The East had too many drawbacks, making it a magic dead zone. Talents rarely emerged, and even when they did, they withered without nurturing. No systems, broken bloodlines—late efforts yielded slow, meager results. Even if magic society kept distance from the mundane world, they favored their origins. The East always got sidelined when cooperation was needed, especially capital-poor South Korea.
So when a Korean kid with wizard potential appeared? The government couldn't intervene directly but did everything to seize the chance—like a puppy wagging its tail obediently.
Eldmier Academy. The most prestigious magic school still standing, packed with the strongest wizards as faculty. Its history bred immense pride, tight alumni bonds, and heavy secrecy. Admission demanded rigorous talent matching strict criteria—no room for dabblers.
A Korean kid getting an invite? Pure luck of the draw. The government used it to forge slim ties with magic society via scarce connections.
"Eldmier, where you'll study... it's super traditional, I guess? Magic society values heritage, but this place takes it further. Might feel stuffy for kids these days—especially someone raised mundane."
Magic governments integrated wandering kin without ties, but processes allowed flexibility. Nil Kapoor, an Eldmier alum, escorting Seojun wasn't coincidence.
"Survive it, though, and you'll gain a ton. The skill level's top-tier."
Under the banner of tradition, centuries of buildup hid far more secrets than met the eye.
"Anyway, late as it is, welcome as my junior."