Asphodel (2)
After some time passed, I was reminded once again that grotesques weren't some distant fairy tale. Chatting with Rupert, I picked up a bit more info on Eldmier.
"So Eldmier's on an island where the sun doesn't rise?"
"Yeah, the sun does come up, but it never gets fully bright."
Oh—fascinating. Rupert grinned, his face lighting up with excitement as he pictured it.
"Cool, right? There's even research saying that's one reason Eldmier wizards turn out so cranky—they grow up without proper sunlight during puberty."
A goofy joke. Wizards were prickly enough already; imagining them extra grumpy was almost a compliment.
"Isn't it freezing there, then? This uniform's too thin; you'd need a thick puffer jacket or something."
"Not necessarily. They say there's subtle geothermal heat, enough to grow crops indoors. Special fruits that thrive in the cold."
"Huh, interesting."
"It's a local specialty, so definitely try some when you get the chance."
Gandbik Island. The mysterious isle discovered by ancient seafarers who braved treacherous seas. Beyond the world's edge, past the Silent Ocean, lay the land of monsters. In eternal twilight, strange flora and fauna unknown to the human world flourished.
"But you didn't know something every wizard takes for granted. You're a Lotus, right?"
"Lotus?"
"Yeah, mages born to normals."
Those born in ordinary homes, raised as regular folks, until fate called them back to magic's embrace one day. A lotus blooming from the mud. Once laced with cynical sneers about not forgetting lowly roots, the term had lost its sting in modern times—noble houses crumbled, bloodlines blurred, leaving just a neutral label.
Like the L-word: take it wrong, and it's an insult; take it straight, and it's dictionary definition. Surprisingly many active mages were Lotuses these days. Wizards were too rare to discriminate by background.
"Spot on. One day, these guys in black suits show up out of nowhere, tell me I'm a wizard. What about you—not a Lotus?"
"Haha, nah. Dad's a mage; Mom's normal."
Rupert's father had hidden his magic until his talented kid was born, then came clean to his wife. After the firstborn, all the siblings turned out mages too. Rupert said his older brother and sister were at Eldmier as well.
Wait—what? Mages weren't supposed to be that common. When I asked, he explained the rate of mage kids inheriting their parents' talent was rising lately. Bloodlines always passed it down, but diluted lines lacked the power to awaken. Now magic was surging, so even thin blood was sparking awakenings.
'Click.'
Nodding at the new info, Rupert lit up even more, eager to share his exclusive knowledge. That thrill of bragging to a friend—pure fuel for a chatterbox like him.
'So the guide's right here?'
First impressions pegged him as chatty from the start. Not that I minded. Better than a silent first meeting with someone I'd see often. If I'm uncomfortable, they are too. Courtesy over personality.
Plenty of time left anyway. I decided to humor my cheerful young friend a bit more.
Sure enough, Rupert, all hyped up, started laying out basics I might not know, unasked.
"You know what? On the first day of the new semester, all students gather in the great hall for dorm sorting."
Great hall and dorm sorting—predictable stuff I'd half-guessed.
"What, does a talking hat judge your talent and assign you?"
"Huh? Hahaha!! You've seen that too?"
Rupert cracked up like I'd told the funniest story, shoulders shaking with laughter.
"No?"
"Of course not! No hat could accurately judge talent. Nobody can. Anyone who knows mystery gets that—ordinariness itself can be a talent."
Then, as if struck by a thought, he added:
"Oh! Not talent, but they used to group by similar traits back in the day. Haha! Never pegged a shadow mage like you for taking movie stuff seriously. Right, you're a Lotus. But this skilled already? Impressive."
I tilted my head at his words.
"Shadow mage?"
"Yeah!!! Took me a while to spot it. Your shadow moving on its own while you're just sitting there—insanely cool!! Freaked me out!"
"Ah."
"First time seeing shadow magic for real! It's super rare, hard to learn too. You're amazing!"
I realized what misunderstanding—or was it?—Rupert had. People see the same thing differently. One phenomenon, many names. Just accept the label.
Hide a tree in the forest, right? Not hiding anything, but explaining trivia was a hassle. Instead of correcting him, I lightly affirmed.
"I see. Didn't know they called it that. So wizards get sorted by type?"
"Yep. I'm a flame mage, for reference."
Fire
A soft mutter, and flames bloomed from Rupert's fingertips without warning. The fire danced freely, shifting into countless animal shapes that appeared and vanished.
"Whoa..."
Objectively, I was near-powerless, so a peer conjuring flames from his hand felt like dazzling magic.
Whoa, that's awesome! Rupert, thrilled by my reaction, spread both hands wide and formed an even grander pattern.
'Kid picks it up quick.'
The flame show ended only when the room grew stifling and sweat poured down Rupert's face.
"Hoo... Still new to flame control, so fine adjustments are tough."
"Says the guy who just nailed it."
"R-Really? Haha!"
Post-circus explanation: magic had innate domains per wizard, separate from worldly principles.
Then the dol hareubang statue that had been quietly claiming space spoke up.
"The four elements are easy to handle by nature. Plenty born with the talent. Such basic magic doesn't require specialization."
"Ah, haha, yeah, true."
One line froze the warm vibe solid. Did the thing have a complex about its looks?
Proving "physiognomy is science" yet again, I nearly sighed. Rupert gave an awkward, embarrassed grin, so Mike Tyson spoke again.
"Still, wielding flames without incantation—that control dwarfs mere fireballs. You're no ordinary talent."
"Uh, y-yeah, thanks. That's a compliment, right?"
"And my name's Jayden. Not Mike Tyson."
He'd overheard my mutter. Clueless kids always had sharp ears.
I turned to Jayden, who'd stayed zipped till now.
"Buddy, you breaking the seal on that mouth?"
"Mouth seal? Odd phrasing, but I get it. I simply avoid wasting time."
"Worthy now?"
"Yes. You've proven worth the conversation, so I'll invest some time."
??????????
His brazen line filled my head with question marks, dazing me for a sec. Social climbing? Gatekeeping? Seeing barbarian culture firsthand was refreshingly novel.
Boil it down, primal instinct. No matter the polish, roots show—East or West.
'Too blunt to be refreshing.'
The kid's dark potential was a fresh archetype, unseen in Korea. Kinda likable.
"That's a unique compliment. Your turn now?"
"For what?"
"You've just been spectating. Introduce yourself properly."
"Hm, fair enough."
Jayden conceded the point. A deep rumble echoed from the cave of his throat.
'How's that a kid's voice?'