Mental Images – Secrets of Mages and Noble Ladies
Fundamentally, a mage's world—their Mental Image, in other words—is not something others can pry into at will.
What Blamia had sought to examine was merely the nature of Kalen's mana. Yet what emerged unbidden was Kalen's inner world itself. As a mage who had established his own world, Blamia was certain.
"Mana... none."
Even such a great mage was stunned. In that single moment, he had uncovered two astonishing facts.
First, Kalen wasn't simply casting magic without using mana—he had no mana to begin with. Second, and even harder to believe, Kalen had already forged his own unique world.
Yet mysteries lingered. How could magic manifest without mana? Why had stimulating his mana summoned his Mental Image instead? And then there was the image itself—an ominous, foreboding landscape.
"G-Grandfather..."
Sinat's lips trembled as she called out, momentarily flustered by the unexpected turn. Only then did Blamia realize he had unconsciously unleashed his intimidating aura.
He hastily withdrew it and pulled his hand from Kalen's back.
"Hah...!"
The ashen world faded away, and Blamia's gaze darkened with gravity.
"You don't know?"
"Yes. I've lived my whole life without ever seeing magic."
A few days later, Blamia summoned Kalen for a private talk. He simply couldn't comprehend it. Was there some unusual past? A secret too painful to share?
Yet Kalen knew nothing of his mana-less magic, his extraordinary talent, or that sinister Mental Image. Blamia could force a glimpse into his memories with magic to verify, but that was no way to treat a young boy.
In the end, Blamia chose to smooth a few thorns from the thorny path ahead of him.
Talent was good. But too much talent was dangerous. An unchanging truth.
Besides, Kalen was the bastard son of a prostitute and a low noble—worse than a commoner in some eyes.
"It's a fine thing, having talent. One lady I knew had everything yet lacked that one gift and went mad for it. Another, born without talent, was treated like an unwanted child despite being the eldest daughter."
After glimpsing Kalen's Mental Image, Blamia let him experience more of the world.
Serving as Sinat's lesson partner. Leisurely taking in sights he'd missed while begging. Even spending a full day shadowing Blamia at a gambling den—though that last one sparked an unfortunate betting habit in Kalen, which Blamia regretted.
This conversation was merely an extension of that.
"Even imperial bloodlines rarely produce high-Hierarchy mages—the noblest lineages in this land. Imagine what they'd think of your talent. You're only at the 1st Hierarchy now, but your age makes it unsettling enough."
"Ah..."
"That's how it is. Those with power can be endlessly merciful—until their rice bowl's threatened. Then they become no better than street thugs."
Blamia's concerns weren't limited to Kalen's talent.
Even in his prime, now long past, a mage's Mental Image had lost much of its original purpose. In a peaceful empire where wars had faded, Mental Images no longer served combat roles.
Instead, the more beautiful the inscribed landscape, the more dazzling the scene, the greater the favor it brought. Now everyone prayed for a more splendid inner world.
From that perspective, Kalen's Mental Image was utterly alien. A murky realm divorced from beauty and brilliance.
To Blamia, it was perilously so.
"They might envy your talent and use that Mental Image as an excuse to drag you before a purification tribunal. Shouting to the world that you're a devil."
An eleven-year-old boy could scarcely bear such weight. Had he known nothing, it might have been different—but Blamia offered one more handful of wisdom.
"Mental Images can't be forcibly drawn out... but yours pops up when mana is stimulated, so never let anyone lay hands on you."
"Yes..."
"And especially, don't flaunt your talent before nobles. Just enough to get by. That'll suffice."
Blamia was a Grand Archmage. Unrivaled in magic. And by age alone, worthy of respect.
Kalen etched his teachings into his heart.
"That's all I've got to tell you. Any questions?"
Perhaps the mood had grown too heavy. Blamia chuckled lightly, tossing out the words casually. Kalen had never asked first before, and he expected the same now.
"...Could you tell me more about those ladies you mentioned?"
"Hm?"
Kalen was gravely serious beyond his years. Blamia had assumed the boy saw him as too intimidating. Yet here he was, asking first.
A boy's fancy for noble ladies? Or grasping at the wisdom offered? Blamia couldn't say, but the change wasn't unwelcome.
"What, interested just 'cause they're ladies?"
"Ah, that's not—"
"Never mind. Even I had a sisterly figure I admired back in the day."
Blamia let slip a faint smile, finding Kalen boyishly endearing at last.
"You've sparred with Sinat, so you know a bit. I'm a man, so I don't get all the details, but my late wife left me some insights."
Blamia had once been head of a grand ducal house. As one of the few Grand Archmages, it was natural. Before retreating to the cabin with Sinat due to past events, he'd met countless noble ladies and mastered etiquette.
His wife, eldest daughter of the empire's mightiest ducal house, had been an expert in such matters.
"At least among girls bearing the title of noble lady, there are no normals."
"Pardon?"
"They're either mad, or pretending to be mad to stay sane."
Blamia chuckled darkly and continued.
"The brighter the family crest behind them shines, the more exquisite their innate beauty and grace, the worse it gets. The education forced on them from childhood is no burden for a young girl."
"But Lady Sinat..."
"Sinat? What I tell you is just one facet. My name shields her from most malice, but the rest is a stopgap."
"Ah..."
"You can't endure without going a little mad. My wife said they often cling desperately to something precious to escape their painful reality."
Blamia had met several noble ladies even shortly before taking in Kalen. Each hid behind a manufactured smile.
"Clothes they might not choose for their debut, hobbies, even smiles they wear like masks. Now they must achieve magical feats too."
What remained after surviving that? A lucky marriage was a blessing, but most weren't so fortunate.
"A lady who loves food controls her diet for weight. One who loves running walks demurely. A theater fan attends symphony concerts; a field-flower lover wears heavy jewels."
"Surely not to that extent—"
"Too much? Far from it. Every detail judges her, her parents, her house. And knowing that, they bear it willingly."
Even after magic changed the world, this truth endured.
"Not all accept it voluntarily, of course. But most noble ladies do. Quite the wretched life, different from yours."
"I don't fully believe it yet... but a little..."
"A little?"
"A little... admirable."
What one hasn't endured, one can't know. Kalen's admiration was pure.
"Well, master magic well enough these days, and it covers a multitude of sins." Blamia grinned playfully, clapping Kalen's stiff shoulder.
He swallowed the rest: That's why so many stake their lives on magic and beautiful Mental Images.
Even as a mere servant boy receiving tutelage, four years had forged an odd bond. Add Kalen's handling of household chores for Blamia and Sinat, and no heartless soul could cast him out easily.
"Kal! Lend me your body a sec!"
"Don't say things Master might misunderstand."
"What misunderstanding between friends?"
"...Never mind."
But if that were all, Kalen wouldn't have dropped formal speech after so long. Blamia cared only for his granddaughter, not fretting much over Kalen.
Even now at fifteen, it held. Without Sinat, their peculiar tie would have snapped early.
—No, Grandfather! If you send Kalen away... I'll leave home too!!
Whenever Blamia hinted at Kalen being "ready," Sinat sensed it like a ghost and blocked him. Even when Kalen tried convincing her to let him go independent, no use.
Once, when he slipped away secretly, she threatened self-harm—impossible to handle.
Now, leaning against his chest, head pillowed there, eyes closed in a serene smile... Sinat's familiar sight had long become everyday.
That day.
Had they not left the house briefly for errands, would it have been different? Somehow, Blamia doubted it as he unconsciously recalled the incident from two years ago.