Luna opened her eyes to a soft, persistent tickling sensation on her forehead. Blinking away the lingering sleep, she stared at the ceiling for a moment before turning toward the window beside her bed.
A cool breeze slipped through the slightly open pane, brushing against her face and stirring her hair.
She sat up slowly, her gaze catching on the mirror across the room. Rising from the bed, she padded over to it, pulling her bangs aside.
There, just near her hairline, was a wide, delicate pattern—like a snowflake etched into her skin.
In awe, Luna leaned closer to study it.
"That's... that's cool," she whispered, a flicker of excitement brushing away the sadness that had weighed on her the night before.
Turning from the mirror, she walked toward the chair and sank into it with a soft sigh, letting herself drift back into yesterday's memories.
Her gaze dropped to her hands—and then froze.
A sudden jolt of realization struck her.
She scrambled back to the mirror, her heart thudding painfully against her ribs. Frantically, she touched her face, her trembling fingers skimming over her skin as if trying to memorize it—prove it was still hers.
"I'm... different?" she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath.
She was different. Taller, older-looking, like a fast-forwarded version of herself. Her hair cascaded longer around her shoulders, her nails looked finer, sharper, and her skin... it almost glowed, too smooth, too untouched by the world.
Wide-eyed, Luna traced the delicate snowflake mark on her forehead again, feeling a strange chill bloom beneath her fingertips.
"Was it you?" she asked the silent reflection, a thread of hope—desperate and childish—woven into her voice.
Silence answered her, cold and unmoving.
Luna's shoulders sagged. A small, wry smile tugged at her lips, brittle and fleeting.
"Eh, good shot. At least I tried," she muttered, trying to make light of it, to laugh it off—but the unease gnawed at her chest like tiny invisible teeth.
Maybe that wolf ended up inside the snowflake, she thought, tilting her head, forcing herself to entertain the thought. It was easier to believe in something silly, something magical, than to face the knot of concern tightening in her stomach.
"Well, I'll let him be for now," she said aloud, forcing a casual shrug that felt far heavier than it should have.
For a moment, she just stood there, staring at her own reflection—a stranger wearing her face. A thousand questions flickered behind her eyes, but she shoved them aside with a stubborn shake of her head.
Not now.
Pushing her worries down deep where they couldn't reach her, Luna grasped onto the one thing that felt safe, felt familiar: a memory.
Aria's warm voice from yesterday floated back to her, like a rope thrown across a widening gap.
"Tomorrow there will be open magic and swordsmanship lessons. If you want to attend, you can," Aria had said, smiling so brightly it had felt like summer itself had kissed her forehead.
"Think about it," she added, giving Luna one last, gentle pat on the head.
Luna closed her eyes for a heartbeat, holding onto that memory like a lifeline, before turning away from the mirror.
Just as Luna was about to dash off to the magic lessons, she skidded to a stop and spun back toward her room.
"Wait!" she thought, a flicker of panic crossing her face.
She hurried to the closet, her steps quick but careful. Throwing open the doors, she rummaged through the clothes until she found what she needed—a larger outfit and a stylish hat, wide enough to shadow her forehead and hide the new mark.
She couldn't explain why her appearance had changed—or why she felt the need to hide it—but instinct told her it was better this way.
She slipped into the slightly oversized clothes, adjusting the fit, and plopped the hat onto her head with a triumphant grin.
It was perfect. The outfit cleverly drew attention to her cuteness—her bright eyes, her little puffed cheeks—distracting from anything unusual.
No one would notice. Not yet.
Pleased with herself, Luna puffed out her cheeks in excitement, gave a little spin, and then sprinted back toward the door.
She slipped into the hallway, gently pulling the door closed behind her with a soft click.
Her footsteps echoed faintly on the polished floors as she made her way, a quiet ball of excitement, toward the magic lessons.
The sound of clacking boots echoed through the open corridor, sharp and rhythmic, as Luna dashed forward.
From afar, we could see her running with energy, her feet light and quick as she passed each grand pillar that lined the hallway.
Suddenly, she veered sharply to the right, her footsteps quickening as she sprinted through the inner garden, the marble pathway stretching ahead like a ribbon of white beneath her feet.
Ahead, the grand stadium loomed—its towering walls filled with the hum of a crowd. Luna's heart skipped a beat as she spotted the large gathering of people. This was it: the public open magic lessons.
Her lips curved into a wide smile, and with a burst of excitement, she pushed herself faster, her figure a blur as she raced toward the entrance, eager to be part of the magic.
She weaved through the rows of chairs, eyes scanning for a good spot, then slipped into the one closest to the podium, her legs swinging slightly as she settled in.
she sat and waited
Slowly people started filling the rows to the brim
Instructors started slowly gathering on to the Podium
as they all gathered there
they started separating to each group of rows
the instructor that have came to Luna's group of rows was
He was a man in his mid-thirties, his strong build subtly pressing against the fabric of his robe. His long grey hair, though unkempt, carried a deliberate wildness — as though he cared, but time had stolen the luxury of neatness. A similarly grey, disheveled beard framed his face, rough but not forgotten. He didn't seek perfection, only purpose.
His robe, though simple at first glance, shimmered in a deep indigo, catching light in unexpected ways. Silver constellations were embroidered along the cuffs and hem, faintly gleaming with a quiet power. The fabric seemed to float around him, as though refusing to touch the ground, and on his shoulder, hidden runes glimmered like distant stars — subtle, yet undeniably present.
To any casual observer, he seemed an ordinary man. But Luna, with her sharp eyes, felt it — there was something beneath the surface, something he was keeping close, something waiting.
"Welcome, all participants!" the magician announced, his voice carrying both authority and warmth.
"My name is Mavric, and I'll be your instructor for today's lesson."
He smiled and stepped closer to the audience, the hem of his robe swaying slightly.
"Today's subject is the fundamentals of magic—and yes, there will be practice afterward."
With a playful chuckle, he added,
"This lecture will be a little different. I'll explain the fundamentals without interruptions. I'm a rather impatient man, after all."
He gave a wink. "You'll be free to ask questions once I say so. You do ask questions, right? Yeah?"
With that, he turned and wheeled a blackboard closer to the group, chalk already in hand.
"The fundamentals of magic are actually quite simple," he said, and began to draw.
"Water. Earth. Fire. Wind."
He wrote each word in large letters and circled them.
"These four elements make up what we call Elemental Magic," he explained, tapping each one with his chalk.
"But there's more. We also have Light and Dark—extensions of those base elements."
He added the two to the board, circling them as well.
Turning back to the group, his chest puffed with pride.
"You can mix these elements—almost any way you like!"
He began gesturing animatedly, drawing lines and arrows between the words.
"For example: combine Fire and Air and you get Lightning magic.
Water and Air make Ice.
Fire and Earth? That gives you Magma."
His excitement was infectious. "That's why it's so important to understand Elemental Magic. It's the foundation of it all!"
He paused, looking out across the group.
"Any questions so far?"
A man sitting in the top-right corner of the seating area raised his hand.
"Yes?" Mavric asked, pointing toward him.
"Is there any way to learn combined magic, like Ice or Lightning, without mastering the base elements first?" the man asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.
"Ah! Yes!" Mavric's eyes lit up as he practically leapt forward, words tumbling from his mouth.
"It's a fascinating mystery! You can absolutely learn Ice or Lightning—or any combined form—without any mastery of the base elements.
Why? We don't know! That's the magic of magic!"
He laughed, momentarily breathless from his own enthusiasm.
"Oh, okay," the man replied, nodding as he sat back down quietly, satisfied.
"Anything else?" Mavric asked between breaths, glancing around the room.
A girl near the center stood, her hand timidly raised.
"I know it's not exactly the topic," she began shyly, eyes darting as others looked her way, "but I haven't been able to find an answer anywhere…"
"Go on," Mavric said gently, adjusting his robe as he turned to face her.
"Is there any other kind of supernatural power that isn't magic?" she asked, cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment.
Mavric blinked, caught a little off guard. Then, with renewed energy, he raised his voice.
"Yes! Absolutely! There are other supernatural arts besides magic."
He began counting on his fingers. "Alchemy, Blood Magic, Rune Magic, Nature Magic, Divination, and more."
He gave a sheepish smile.
"But that's tomorrow's lesson. If you're really curious, be sure to come back. I promise we'll dig deep into those."
"Ah, alright—thank you!" she said quickly, sitting back down with a grateful smile.
"Is that all?" Mavric asked, glancing around with a raised brow.
Silence answered him.
"Yeah, thought so," he muttered, scratching his nose with one knuckle. "Guess it's time we move on to the fun part: the practical demonstration."
He stepped forward, clearing space around him. "Now—watch closely."
Raising his left arm, he held it palm-up. A flicker of crackling flame spiraled into existence, hovering just above his skin—a twisting, writhing ball of orange fire that pulsed with heat.
"Water, Earth, Fire, Wind…" he recited, and with each word, a new element sprang forth, floating in miniature orbit around his hand like glowing marbles of power:
A droplet of water, perfectly suspended, refracting light in dazzling fractals.
A chunk of earth, dense and rough, grinding softly as if breathing.
A spinning gale, invisible but outlined by glittering particles dancing in its current
A tongue of flame, bright and restless, flickering between deep orange and molten gold—its heat palpable even at a distance, casting dancing shadows on his robes.
He then raised his right arm.
"And here…" he said, voice dipping into something deeper, "we have Light and Dark."
From his palm, a beam of pure white light unfurled like a ribbon, illuminating the space with a soft, divine shimmer. Then, as if pulling shadow from thin air, a wisp of darkness coiled up beside it—inky, void-like, devouring the light around it like a starless night sky.
Mavric took a few steps aside, gesturing for the elemental manifestations to follow—and they did, hovering and aligning into two neat rows beside him. He now stood between them, arms out like a conductor before an orchestra.
"Now," he said with a grin, "let's talk about combining magic."
He extended his hands. The Fire element darted toward his left hand, nestling above it like a loyal pet. The Air element twirled into his right, refusing to stay still—an erratic sphere, spinning with energy and occasional whiplashes of invisible wind.
"Fire in the left. Air in the right," he said clearly. Then, without pause, he clapped his hands together.
There was a loud crack—not from the impact of skin, but from the birth of something new.
Lightning burst between his palms, caged inside an invisible sphere. The raw energy danced and snarled, striking the unseen barrier with crackling brilliance. Sparks burst outward in thin veins, lighting up the air like a storm trapped in a jar.
"Isn't that cool?" Mavric asked, grinning wide.
The crowd erupted—cheering, clapping, leaning forward with awe sparkling in their eyes.
"And so—how do you think Ice will look?" he asked, turning his head playfully.
Some students exchanged glances. A few shrugged, uncertain. Others waited, breath held.
"I'll show you," Mavric said, letting the Lightning dissipate into fading sparks.
The Fire and Air elements returned to the line, obedient and calm. Then he summoned Water and Air again—this time slower, more deliberate. They glowed in his palms, resonating with a faint, crystalline hum.
"Now... watch closely."
With a deep breath, he brought his hands together once more.
The fusion was quiet—no crack, no flash—just a sudden sharp drop in temperature, like the room itself had exhaled frost.
Ice formed between his palms. A jagged, elegant crystal bloomed outward, shaped like a snowflake yet solid as stone. It hovered there, glowing with pale blue light.
"This," he said, his voice reverent, "is Ice. Just like the kind you'd find in the frozen fields of Northern Rode."
He gently let go, and the chunk of Ice drifted downward. As it descended, a visible chill rippled out, frost forming on the air itself like breath on glass.
The moment it touched the wooden floor, a shockwave of frost erupted from it—a perfect circle of crackling ice racing outward, coating the stage in a white sheen. The surrounding air turned misty and cold.
"See that?" Mavric said, raising one finger. "That's what happens when you apply the element to the environment. Control is everything."
Then, with a flick of his wrist and a subtle breath, all the magic—Ice, mist, cold—vanished in an instant, as if the stage had only imagined it.
"Elemental Magic may seem simple," he said, turning back to them, "but this—this—is why mastery matters. The greater your control, the more you can do. And more importantly..."
He snapped his fingers. "You can stop any spell just as fast."
A pause. Mavric's eyes scanned the room, waiting for a reaction. He cleared his throat softly. "Any questions?"
Silence.
The crowd sat motionless, their eyes wide, their breaths held as if entranced by the spectacle they'd just witnessed.
Mavric chuckled darkly, the sound rich with amusement and a touch of frustration. "Well, I suppose that's the effect I have," he muttered, shaking his head as his shoulders slumped. "In awe again. Every. Single. Time."
He let out a long, theatrical sigh, then suddenly straightened, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Alright," he said, voice dropping to a more serious tone, "no more stalling. Let's see if you can keep up with this next part."
With that, he thrust his hands forward, commanding the air to tremble in anticipation.