With a thrill, the Magician curled the corner of his mouth, trying to make sense of the situation.
Beside him, the Tall Man sighed in quiet defeat—he still couldn't sense any mana.
He turned his gaze toward the crowd.
They stared back in disbelief. Murmurs rippled through the rows like wind through dry grass. Even the other instructors remained frozen, silent.
The Tall Man glanced at Luna, then at the Magician, struggling to understand the sudden tension. The air felt thick. Heavy.
Then, the Magician broke it.
"That was impressive, miss. You're a real prodigy."
He stroked his chin, intrigued. "Do you want to be my pupil?"
Luna blinked, stunned. She took a step back. "No, thank you, Mister. I... I don't want to. Not for now."
A flicker of guilt crossed her face, and she opened her mouth. "Sor—"
He raised a hand, chuckling lightly. "Ah, what a shame. I could've taught you a great deal... But it's your choice."
He rose from his seat. The chair beneath him shimmered, then faded into wisps of smoke.
Turning to the crowd, he clapped once, sharply. "Well, how was the show? Did anyone enjoy themselves?"
A child near the front clapped instinctively. Someone coughed. The rest remained silent—bewildered, unsure.
Undeterred, the Magician smiled. "What we witnessed today was astonishing. This young lady showed us the impossible—and proved that even the impossible can be done."
He spread his arms wide, his voice rising with theatrical flair. "Let this be a lesson: with enough dedication, even the most ordinary among you can achieve greatness."
The silence finally cracked. Gasps. Whispers. A few hesitant nods. The crowd was waking up again, just barely.
"Starting today and until the end of next week, we're accepting applications to this Academy." He pointed at them, eyes gleaming. "Yes—you. You all can learn magic."
"Come. Apply. Thrive."
Then, turning back to Luna and the Tall Man, he dipped his head. "Thank you for participating. You've earned my respect. You made my work far easier."
A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I hope to see you both again tomorrow, same time."
Facing the audience again, he raised his voice one last time. "Thank you all for coming. I had a great time teaching you all about magic."
He beamed, a glimmer of real joy behind the showmanship.
"So I invite you—come back tomorrow, same place, same hour. We'll continue this journey together."
Then, with a final flourish, he clapped his hands.
CRACK.
The sharp sound echoed unnaturally—too loud for a simple clap. A ripple of unease passed through the crowd. Birds overhead scattered. Someone dropped a cup.
"That's all for today," the Magician said, tone crisp. "Thank you... and goodbye."
He turned and descended the stairs.
Passing Luna and the Tall Man, he paused for just a breath. His back to them.
"Goodbye," he said quietly. Coldly. Measured.
Then he walked on—through the path between benches, his robes trailing like smoke.
He didn't weave through the crowd—he seemed to glide, evading contact with unnatural ease. One child reached out as he passed and flinched back instantly, as if touched by ice.
He moved quickly, overtaking others like a shadow slipping ahead.
Someone looked back.
The Magician's expression had changed—blank. Eyes hollow. His brow twitched, subtly, a single motion of irritation. Or fury.
A flicker of something dark passed through him. Sinister. Unspoken.
Then he was gone.