Enrollment
"School! Luke, school!"
The blue spirit danced for joy, spinning loops through the air.
Luke watched the fussing little spirit and gave a slight shake of the head.
"You seem far more delighted than I."
Unlike Pai, who was careening about in pure excitement, Luke remained composed. The academy they had arrived at was large, certainly — but that was about all one could say for it. Just as the pamphlet had promised, the buildings wore a traditional, refined silhouette: ornamental, almost sculptural in their beauty.
Turn around, and every structure behind them was a modern rectangle of glass and steel. Look forward, and a school building steeped in the fragrance of the past filled the eye — something like a museum. Anyone living in this age might well have trembled at the sight.
Unfortunately for the architecture, Luke could muster little interest. "Traditional" simply meant "old," and Luke was already well acquainted with the old.
There are some improvements visible, but fundamentally it is a copy of the past's architectural style.
Even after five thousand years.
Of course, five millennia ago there had been architects and mages as well, and an academy was a facility the nation itself had designed to cultivate its finest talent — so even then, that style would have represented the cutting edge of design. Still, Luke did not think it so magnificent as to be worth clinging to into the modern age.
In those days, the reason buildings were carved with ornament was simple: to enchant something with magic required a material that had been worked by human will — refined, sculpted, shaped by deliberate effort. Given magic's nature, whereby a person's will is reflected upon objects and the world, it was only natural that magic clung more readily to things already heavy with intent.
An institution that raised the highest caliber of talent also had to be able to protect that talent. Losing a single competent mage had once been a matter of national consequence, so an academy inevitably required fortification beyond any physical or magical assault. Enchanting buildings with physical and magical defenses was therefore a matter of course — and the architectural practice of carving ornament into stone had flourished for precisely that reason.
But a sweep of Mana Sight told Luke this building had not been raised for any such purpose.
It was simply for show.
This world was peaceful enough that preparations against invasion were no longer necessary. That was a good thing, of course, and yet…
"I had hoped to see something entirely new."
A building constructed in a thoroughly modern style would have been far more interesting. Luke rather preferred the simple, practical designs of contemporary architecture.
With a faintly disappointed air, Luke set off.
The first place Luke arrived was the faculty office, and finding it was no difficulty at all. The academy's layout was already known — explained in advance during the entrance exam, and sketched as a simple map in the pamphlet. Even if Teag Academy was fairly sprawling, there was no reason for Luke to get lost.
In the faculty office, a neat black-haired woman in her mid-to-late twenties with sharp eyes greeted the newcomer as though she had been waiting.
"Oh my, you're here? So you're the transfer student who scored perfect on this year's entrance exam?"
"Indeed. Call me Luke Irushi."
"A perfect score and a skip straight into first year — that's impressive."
The teacher said this while ruffling Luke's hair, which Luke found thoroughly uncomfortable. Being patted on the head was not pleasant in the first place, and the flush of heat rising to the face was only natural. But from the teacher's perspective, a child shrinking back in embarrassment was nothing remarkable — merely a somewhat shy disposition.
And so, guided by the hand of the teacher who would be called "homeroom teacher," Luke arrived at the classroom. What followed was the ritual every transfer student performs on the first day of school: a self-introduction.
A quick survey of the class left Luke slightly flustered despite every expectation.
They are… far too young, are they not?
The expectation had been there, but they truly were young. About eleven years old?
Luke had trusted the exam proctor's promise that placement would be "according to level" — and yet, from that person's standpoint, this was apparently Luke's level. The thought was both bewildering and faintly insulting.
What on earth is going on here…
Shirud was visible, seated somewhere off to the side, and looking rather startled. Had the parents not mentioned that Luke would be transferring in?
As Luke stood there dithering in confusion, the teacher decided the child must simply be very shy and began the introduction in Luke's place.
"All right, everyone — we have a transfer student today. The name is Luke Irushi. A year younger than the rest of you, but this is a student who scored perfect on the entrance exam. Be sure to get along."
A brief introduction. The children, however, reacted quite sharply to the word "perfect."
A murmur rose. The atmosphere grew restless.
"Wait — perfect score?"
"I thought there weren't any perfect scores this year…"
"Then that kid's going to be first in the whole school from now on!"
Even this reaction left Luke nonplussed.
Is a perfect score on that sort of exam not simply the expected result…?
The test had been so easy that the answers had simply been written down. Why praise was required for that was beyond comprehension. Of course a perfect score would come of it. Without any deep contemplation of phenomena, merely producing knowledge already held — a simple examination in which Luke had felt not the slightest interest, and had recorded only facts upon the answer sheet. Exactly as written in the textbooks and workbooks. A simple test manufactured for the grader's convenience. That had been the impression: little more than a memory quiz.
In that light, being praised for a perfect score on such a test felt unbearably awkward — as though an adult were being cheered for babbling. The embarrassment flushed Luke's face red, and the teacher could only conclude once more that the child was terribly shy. The sight was so thoroughly childlike that she found it rather endearing.
"All right, go find an empty seat, Luke."
"Ah — very well…"
Finally free of the humiliating ceremony, Luke sat down in an empty seat at the fastest speed still within the bounds of natural movement. The empty seat was, perhaps inevitably, the one beside Shirud.
"Y-you…! How are you here?"
"If you ask 'how,' I simply enrolled in the ordinary fashion."
At the dry reply, Shirud covered a face with both hands and planted a forehead on the desk.
Mom said to look forward to today — so this is what she meant…
Had the lack of close friends been such a worry?
I don't particularly need friends, though.
Watching Shirud face-down on the desk, Luke let out a long sigh as well. Pai, observing the scene, asked with concern:
— Luke, are you excited for school?
"I was, at first. Now I am no longer certain…"
So far, it had been disappointing. To find oneself shoved in among a flock of children — pride was poison to a mage, but drop a hawk among chicks and the hawk will think certain thoughts whether it wishes to or not.
"Once class begins, things may yet prove different."
When break time arrived, the children buzzed with curiosity about the new transfer student. Suddenly surrounded, Luke had known this would happen — and yet, actually being in the middle of it was rather trying.
"What are those horns? Not deer… cow? Goat?"
"The ears are so cute — those are cat ears, right?"
"You got a perfect score? How did you study?"
"The face and eyes are cute too, but the horns look like they'd be annoying."
"What are your hobbies? What do you usually do?"
Assorted questions, punctuated by intermittent compliments on appearance. Cute?! The words had been tossed out carelessly, but they put Luke in a difficult position. From Luke's standpoint, the cute ones were the children saying such things. And yet now Luke was the one being called cute — was that not thoroughly awkward? Enduring it was bound to be miserable.
A glance was cast toward Shirud, but that child had already vacated the seat before the crowd gathered.
A fine predicament.
In that moment, someone stepped in on Luke's behalf.
"One question at a time! You're putting the transfer student on the spot!"
A bright but firm girl's voice cut through the cluster of children. As the murmuring subsided, the one who pushed through the gap was a beastman girl with a distinctly fluffy impression.
"Nice to meet you! Luke Irushi, right? I'm Mery! Mery Eidel!"
The child who introduced herself as Mery Eidel was a sheep beastman with lush, curly ash-brown hair. The coiled horns perched on her head announced their presence as if to prove the point.
"As you can see, I'm a sheep beastman. Fellow horn-havers — let's get along!"
"V-very well, then, Mery Eidel."
Taking the offered hand on reflex and giving it a shake up and down, Luke watched Mery grin.
"I'm the class president, so if anything's ever confusing or you have questions, just ask me!"
"Understood, Mery."
Sheep are herd animals by nature. Creatures that live in groups naturally have those who lead them. Mery, it seemed, was that presence in this class — the head of the flock. Luke found the confident posture, hands planted on hips as if to show off that small frame, so endearingly mismatched with the fluffy appearance that a smile came unbidden.
Seeing the transfer student's natural smile, Mery decided the new classmate must be opening up a little, and smiled back.
"By the way, a beastman getting a perfect score is really rare! Beastmen aren't usually much good at studying."
"Is that so?"
"Everyone would rather be moving their bodies than sitting still with a book, you know!"
Mery cheerfully pumped a fist as she said it. Watching her, Luke felt a light impulse to pat that head — the mood had lifted that much. A bright child's smile always held something that filled the chest. For Luke, who had once had to end a war just to reclaim such smiles, Mery's grin felt almost like a reward. Holding back laughter had been difficult for some time now.
Mery, seeing that smile, felt a surge of friendliness — the sense of already having made a friend of the transfer student.
When class began, Shirud sat at a slant and listened — or rather, did not listen at all. The only thought circling was why this girl was sitting in the next seat.
Mom definitely pulled some strings…
Shirud was in a bind.
This girl is absolutely not an ordinary girl…
And with good reason: a Circle patient just like Shirud, who somehow knew how to freely control that Circle. Practice had been attempted according to the method Luke had taught last time, but it was not going well. The sensation was far too unfamiliar. And more than anything — how did she use magic without even chanting? No matter how hard Shirud tried, even moving mana was difficult, let alone producing light.
Luke was equally unable to focus on the lesson.
As expected, nothing differs from what I already know.
When would wands be permitted for use? That was the only thought, while simply holding a proper posture. The reason Luke was not openly distracted was solely a desire not to trouble the person conducting the class at the front.
"Hey."
Shirud's low call came across.
"What is it?"
"That magic you taught me last time."
"Is something not going well?"
Yes — this was far more interesting. Better to impart teaching to a student than to sit through content already known without omission. If Shirud's Circle could be stabilized, this child would no longer suffer from mana rampages.
"No matter how much I try on my own, I can't do it. I can't even move mana the way you do."
"Hmm."
Luke considered the phenomenon, rubbing a chin. Every individual possessed a method of mana operation suited to them. Shirud had simply not found it yet.
"What do you think mana is?"
"…Mana? The infinite energy source that exists in all things and constitutes the world."
At Shirud's simple definition, devoid of any personal contemplation, Luke shook a head and sighed.
"That is merely the definition written in educational textbooks."
It was not wrong, but it defined only the thinnest surface of mana's nature. And Shirud did not understand even what that surface truly meant.
Luke's own definition of mana was this:
"Mana is the world itself."
Everything that constitutes the world is made of mana. Living and nonliving. Existence and consciousness. Space and time. Mana is the presence that binds all of it into one and connects it to the world. Mana is life — and the world itself.
"Such definitions of mana are, in truth, meaningless. It is not something that can be defined. Can you define the world?"
The world. The world given to every person is different. The only equality is that it is given to all. Can such a world be defined in a few simple words?
Speak of it in detail and there is no end — and that endless understanding and contemplation is useless to anyone else. Just as one born a slave cannot comprehend the suffering of a noble fallen into slavery. Every person receives the life they have lived with different attitudes and different levels of intelligence; no matter how thoroughly another explains, true understanding is unlikely.
Class magic might function on definitions that are nothing but words designated by others…
But in Circle magic, one must become the world oneself.
"Shirud. What do you wish to think of mana as?"
"What I wish to think…?"
It was a thoroughly unfamiliar idea for Shirud. The world as felt until now had been little more than a life entrusted to others. Well — this was still an eleven-year-old child. An eleven-year-old who relied on parents and simply accepted what others said.
"What I wish to think…"
What do I want to think?
At the age of eleven, Shirud began, for the first time, to contemplate the self.