Fated Connections
"Let me introduce him properly. This is Jayden Bior."
Third-generation American immigrant. His dad's a coach who used to be a famous American football player, and his mom's a nurse at a university hospital. Family of four total—Jayden, his parents, and an older sister. The way he rattled off even his family background without being asked made it clear he'd overheard everything Rupert said earlier. What a subtly earnest guy.
"Then you're a commoner too?"
"That's right."
Rupert asked Jayden with a baffled look. Jayden's eyes said so what?, leaving Rupert looking deflated. I voiced what Rupert was feeling instead.
"You wouldn't happen to be... what, some nobody?"
Up until now, he'd been putting on such airs that both Rupert and I had assumed he came from some big-shot family. Rupert and I exchanged dumbfounded glances, and Jayden must've caught the sarcasm in my words because he furrowed his brow slightly. Even that tiny twitch made his already fierce face look even more intimidating—the thick vein bulging on his forehead stood out even more.
Gira.
Mana from the surroundings swirled into his palm, compressing into a single point with powerful rotation. The intensifying flow of mana affected the space around it, kicking up a gust of wind.
No way—this is...?
Ignoring our shocked faces, Jayden spoke in a firm tone.
"You think wizards are some kind of superheroes? Starting fires or levitating objects—any half-baked amateur can do that sort of thing."
It had to take serious focus to maintain that compressed mana... but Jayden's face stayed perfectly calm as he kept talking.
"The real key is the ability to manipulate phenomena and laws. And the foundation of that is mana control."
The mana that had been raging threateningly moments ago dispersed naturally without a trace the instant he finished speaking, as if it had never been there.
"Whoa...."
"Wow! That's impressive!"
No denying it—this was no ordinary skill. Even someone clueless would've seen that.
"Iyel... assei! Damn, you earned that swagger. I figured you'd just show off some brute strength, never thought of this."
"For real! At our age, even kids from noble families couldn't pull off mana control like that!"
"Hmph."
Jayden snorted and turned his head slightly. His face might've been tough, but he was still a kid at heart—bombarded with double the praise, his nostrils flared despite his best efforts to play it cool.
This guy's easy.
Built like a mountain, but when it came to embarrassment, he had the face of any ordinary kid.
"So, when do we get to Eldmier Academy anyway?"
I knew the boarding time, but not how long the voyage would take.
"Hmm... I heard it's about one night. Leaves in the afternoon, arrives next morning."
"That's pretty long. Whoa!"
Leaning back against the pristine mattress, I sank into its soft bounce, feeling cozy. It was an interior cabin without windows, but a magical frame on the wall displayed the sunset over the sea in real time, easing any sense of claustrophobia.
"So what do we do till then?"
Staring blankly at the ceiling, I saw the magical lantern glowing softly. Scanning the room, there wasn't much to do in the cramped space.
Phone? Yeah, right—no signal here.
"Just eat dinner and crash. That's why they have beds, see?"
Rupert patted the plush mattress with his palm. Three cozy—if small—beds lined up along the walls, and he was bustling around the tight space, unpacking his stuff. The room carried a faint woody scent mixed with gentle waves of unidentified mana that purified the air.
"They serve dinner too?"
"Of course. You think a school ship would let us starve? On a vessel this size, no worries there."
Right then, a clear bell rang through the corridor outside, and the hallway grew noisy. Thud-thud-bang—someone dashed by, shouting rowdily.
"Let's go eat!"
Rupert cracked open the creaky door and peeked out. The windowless corridor was already swarming with students spilling from their rooms.
"Oh? Looks like it's on! Everyone's heading to the dining hall—should we go?"
"Yeah. Hey, Jayden, you coming too?"
Jayden, leaning against the wall silently polishing his wand, nodded curtly.
"Got it."
We used Jayden as a shield to carve through the crowd. A gorilla barging through a sea of average-sized kids parted the way automatically. Sticking right behind him meant no getting jostled.
"But uh, any idea where the dining hall is?"
"Nah, no clue! Just follow the crowd, right?"
The three of us trailed the throng down the ship's central staircase. Past the narrow corridor, an open space appeared, greeted by hundreds of floating candles on the high ceiling sprinkling silver dust in welcome.
One end of the wall and ceiling opened to the sky, making the area look far bigger than from outside—like magic had expanded the space itself.
"Whoa... tons of people, and half the space is open, but no wind at all."
"Look over there—buffet style! Seniors are all lining up."
The deeper we went, the more delicious smells and warmth hit us. In the hall's center, an endless sleek marble table groaned under dozens of dishes tempting every appetite. Older students grabbed white plates with practiced ease and queued up, while autonomous dolls zipped around collecting empty ones.
Grill, roasts, seafood, European, noodles, salads, desserts—the food on a ship was shockingly high-end.
"Holy crap, they even have kimbap."
"For real? I love that stuff."
Rupert's face lit up. Whoa, for real? How far does K-FooD stretch?!
But picking kimbap at a buffet? That's crazy talk... Still, regardless of my tastes, it was hugely popular.
"Ooh... kimbap, Korean food."
"Bulgogi good!"
With plates piled high with our favorites, the three of us hunted for an empty table. Luckily, spearheaded by Jayden with us trailing like lemmings, we snagged the last spots just in time.
A few back-and-forth trips later, our plates towered like mountains. Stomachs empty from an early lunch, we shoveled it in like mad.
"This is insane. The school's welfare is off the charts—they just give us all this?"
For me, one of life's greatest joys was eating, so this was paradise.
As I sliced into some roast beef and marveled, the Lotus kid next to me—salmon belly stuffed in his mouth—mumbled in agreement.
"Right? They say it's a historic school, and they even handle stuff like this. Definitely a different league. We could eat till we burst, and no one'd complain."
Savoring the melting juices, I glanced at Jayden's plate across from me. Unlike our mishmashes on the verge of dog-food status, his was pristine—almost monotonous. Just thick chunks of sirloin steak and a couple grilled asparagus spears. Blood pooling on the plate made it look like some crime scene.
"Hey, Jayden, aren't you eating too much meat? Mix it up a bit. Food's everywhere here."
Even to my casual question, Jayden barely acknowledged it, slicing his steak with unflinching posture.
"Efficient."
"What is?"
"Eating the food with the highest mana density per bite."
"...You're nuts. You're actually obsessed with magic, huh? Fine, chow down on that meat then."
Instead of replying, Jayden elegantly chewed a sauce-dipped piece. Next to his plate sat not a smartphone, but an exquisitely silver-engraved luxury book. A grimoire, maybe? But it didn't look ordinary. No way... am I the only trash here?
Refocusing on my food, my stomach filling up nicely, that's when crisp heels clicked over, casting an unfamiliar shadow on the table.
Wondering what was up, I looked up to see two impeccably dressed girls looking down at us.
"Pardon the intrusion. The dining hall's busier than expected—no seats around. Mind if we join?"
The lead girl explained smoothly and asked permission. Her shirt collar was sharply pressed, hair neatly tied, and her eyes brimmed with intellectual confidence. Meeting each of our gazes one by one, she kept her poised smile while waiting for an answer.
"Of course! It's a shared table—we're always open to company."
Rupert flashed his usual bright grin. Perfect—a five-seater with exactly two spots free. We pulled our plates inward and scooted chairs to make room.
"Um... sorry. For the hassle...."
The smaller girl trailing the confident one sat beside me, mumbling in a mosquito-like voice. The moment our eyes met, she dropped hers to her feet. Looking timid in the flashy banquet vibe, she hunched her shoulders like her uniform didn't fit, fiddling with her sleeve ends. Clear as day: talking to her would lead nowhere good.
"Nah, no biggie. Sit comfy."
I gave a light nod—just enough not to make her uncomfortable—then picked up my fork again.
The two exchanged quick introductions. The bold one was Jane Miller, the shy one Lily Casting.