The Journey Blasts Off at Breakneck Speed

Ian had no luggage to pack. Eredis was a natural wanderer, already used to traveling light.

"Mother. Father. I'm off now."

"Alright, listen well to the mage lady!"

"Study hard! Raven!"

"Oppa! You have to come back!"

With his family's enthusiastic send-off, he left the territory. Leaving the land where he'd lived his entire life—ten years—felt strangely bittersweet.

"Um... Should I call you Master...?"

"Not yet. I haven't taught you anything. Call me sis."

He'd thought about it before, but was "sis" really right? A child's eyes saw the world differently from an adult's. Eredis was confident she looked young for her age. But to Ian, she was more aunt than sister. Eredis was thirty-five this year—older than Ian's own mother. His little sister calling her "auntie" had been a chillingly spot-on insight.

"Sis."

"Yeah? Got something you're curious about?"

The vibe said he could ask anything. But was this okay to bring up? Still, Ian couldn't hold back his curiosity.

"Why'd ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you take me as your disciple?"

Eredis gave a subtle smile. She figured Ian was anxious. He knew nothing about the magical world of chronomancers and whatnot. Ignorance bred fear. He was uneasy because he didn't understand why a serf's son like him had suddenly become a mage's apprentice. Easing that fear was an adult's job.

"I got a prophecy."

"...A prophecy?"

The fantastical word popped out of nowhere, startling Ian. He knew this was a medieval fantasy world, but prophecies? Those were a staple event for any major player in fantasy! Usually, there were two kinds: one foretelling massive success, the other massive doom. Ian swallowed hard.

"What kind of prophecy?"

"Hmm? What do you think?"

Eredis shamelessly broke Rule #1 of Q&A: Don't answer a question with another question. But Ian was just as brazen.

"One saying I'll become a grand mage in the future?"

He threw it out there. Kids got a pass for that. Adults doing it looked pathetic; kids, it was just boldness. Children had infinite "potential." Unlike adults with closed growth plates just waiting to die, every kid brimmed with hope.

"Pfft. Big dreams, huh? Wanna be a grand mage?"

Like most adults, Eredis didn't mind a kid with dreams—especially if it was her disciple.

"Yes!"

Ian the kid answered energetically. To Eredis, it was unbearably cute.

'Good call taking him as a disciple.'

If she'd taken a proper one from the start, she'd have snagged someone even cuter than Ian. Mage disciples were picked young—usually five. The younger, the faster they absorbed info. In the cutthroat industry of cuteness where age was the boss, a ten-year-old couldn't beat a five-year-old. At ten, you were graduating to the next stage. Too old to really sell the cute anymore. Ruthless rules.

But in Eredis's eyes—her very first disciple ever—Ian was just plain adorable. She'd never had kids herself, so a child's charm was a fresh, novel delight.

"Truth is, I don't even know if you can use magic or not."

"...Huh?"

Shocking words. Ian, picked on the spot as a disciple, might be a total dud? It was just potential, but terrifying to Ian. Without magic, his future was bleak.

But Eredis was sure that wasn't the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠case. It was a chronomancer's prophecy, after all. He'd said taking Ian as a disciple would bring her good fortune. And Ian flunking magic wouldn't be good fortune.

"To enter magic, you gotta study a ton first."

Ian nodded vigorously. Like any fantasy setting, mages here were brainiacs. No room for dumb muscle.

'I've got this.'

Gwak Jaehan, the Korean, had been a STEM guy. He'd wanted math in college, but everyone called him crazy and pushed him into comp sci. Not SKY-tier Ivy, but a solid "Oh, that place?" school. So, not a total airhead. Fantasy mage bread-and-butter was formula calculations. Math? Jaehan woke up for that. Some might finger-point: "No hobbies, so you stan math?" But math was beautiful, a mind-clearing ritual (etc., etc.).

'Whatever the formula, I'll crunch it.'

While Ian daydreamed, Eredis... had no thoughts. Prophecy kid would figure it out.

And so they traveled on.

Eredis the born wanderer had no fixed base. She'd never needed one in her life. As a skilled mage, solving a few pesky problems got her food, shelter, everything. Nobles begged her to visit—who needed a house when the whole empire was her home?

But now, after ages, she'd bought one. In the empire's northwest, at the Golden Mountains' edge. She snapped up a noble's old hunting lodge and turned it into a cozy pad. They'd live here till her disciple grew into a full mage.

"What do you think? Pretty nice, right?"

Eredis was simple at heart. If she liked luxury, she wouldn't roam houseless. But she'd splurged on this for her cute disciple. To Ian, who'd spent life in cramped plank shacks, it was a palace.

"Yes! It's amazing!"

"Hehe, sis shelled out some coin!"

The only downside: mountain location. Maintenance would be a hassle. But nomad-life Eredis had zero settled vibes. No worries. Just satisfaction at the magic books neatly shelved.

"Packing's done. Ready to start lessons?"

Ian's heart raced. The historic ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠first step to magehood.

"Ian Raven. From this moment, serve me, Eredis Manskal, as your master."

"Yes, Master!"

"Good. Your name's now Ian Eredis Raven."

Ian had a new moniker: Ian Eredis Raven. Full form: ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Eredis's disciple, the great raven Ian.

First official lesson.

"Magic is extremely dangerous. No thorough prep, no starting anything."

Eredis was dead serious. No trace of her usual gooey vibe. Ian buckled down too.

"Open the magic book."

Ian carefully opened it, hands steady. A sea of alien script unfurled. He was a raft adrift in knowledge's ocean.

"This is..."

"Magic's absolute basics. Maronius Language."

His stomach churned. The Maronius Language felt familiar yet alien. It resembled ancient Asian script way too much.

'Han...ja?'

Sleek pictographs. Ian's vision darkened.

'Son of a bitch! Hanja?!'

Math he could do in his sleep. But Hanja? Not his major. Lit majors did that crap! They needed it for poems like "Fluttering Yellow Bird" or whatever (unless non-Korean lit major). Irrelevant to STEM Ian.

And now, studying fantasy pictographs!

"Starting today, 100 characters a day."

"Isn't that too much?"

"Overwhelmed? I'll cut it."

100% no—200% no. Undigestible. Ian thought.

"But these are basic thousand chars. Easy, done in a month."

Ian reeled. Basic thousand? He'd thought Hanja-lite. This was true Thousand Character Classic...

"Shall we take it slow?"

Ian's first magic lesson began. Simple method: Eredis taught name and pronunciation, Ian parroted. Then, the lore of each character's form.

"This one's 'Ere'—like my name, right? Maronius borrowed tons from ancient tongues, so lots of overlapping sounds."

Chatting magic after ages, Eredis heated up, lecturing passionately. Born magic geek—entry to independence felt effortless. Result: magic topics, she could ramble hours. Ultimate too-much-talker.

But Ian, magic noob. Purebred STEM Korean hating Hanja, English, Japanese, Chinese—all foreign scripts—this otherworld pictograph hell was torture.

After a six-hour marathon, Eredis assessed.

"Alright, Ian! What's this character pronounced?"

"..."

She'd taught all hundred, picked one at random. Thought it easy, low-pressure. But Ian's mind blanked.

'What was it...?'

Saw six similar ones. 'Screwed.'

Done. Should've studied lit! No—been a lit major from the start!

As Ian despaired solo—

'Huh?'

The Status Window. Ian stared, shocked. It... worked?