Five Years ago...
POV: HELENA IVYRA.
There I was… another day waking up in the middle of the night, and sleepless, on top of that.
Ugh… Why?
Because of that classic anxiety about the next day. I'd done it so many times that, by now, it felt more like a habit or even a hobby than a real problem.
"Ughhh… I'm so damn sleepy!" I mumbled, rubbing my eyes with my fingers, clearing away the sleep gunk of the previous night.
I got up and went to the window.
The room was bathed in a bluish dimness, broken only by the shy light of dawn peeking through the curtain's cracks.
The bed, still warm behind me, let out soft wooden creaks, as if begging me to return. But I pressed on.
The sun was barely rising and already hiding in the distance, dry and far, just an orange stain peering at the world. I carefully opened the curtain, letting the fresh morning air fill the room and push away the stuffy smell of the night.
"It's strange to think how important that giant ball of fire is to us… and yet, it remains there, impassive. One of the main pillars of our spe— Ughh…" I yawned, covering my mouth with my hand.
"I'd better go use the other fundamental pillar of our race. Probably the most important one: coffee!" I tried to appear more animated than I actually was.
I left the room in silence. The hallway walls still held the chill of the dawn, and my feet made a slight dry sound on the ceramic floor.
I reached the kitchen, which was small, modest, and filled with that eternal smell of old coffee and spices stored away for too long. The fluorescent light above the sink flickered once before steadying.
In the corner of the counter rested the faithful electric kettle, surrounded by a row of mugs and forgotten breadcrumbs from the previous coffee.
I put water on to heat. The kettle's click cut through the house's silence like an arrow. I put two spoons of coffee into my green mug, the usual one, with its handle slightly cracked.
Out of the corner of my eye, my gaze fell on the calendar stuck to the refrigerator door. Its paper was already yellowed at the edges, held by two magnets: one from SpongeBob and another from last year's university entrance exam.
And there it was. Existence's most constant worker: time.
It never stopped. It never rested. But it always, always moved forward.
Even when alone, it flowed naturally in its own current…
That's when I realized: it was already December 14th.
The last day of classes for my second year of high school.
"The long-awaited senior year is coming, huh…" I whispered, almost out of breath.
At the same moment, a shiver ran down my spine.
"Damn… I'm turning into an adult. I'm screwed, I'm screwed, I'm screwed!".
"Wait… actually, it's not that bad, right? I don't think so… After all, being an adult is like wielding Thor's Mjölnir: it's a huge power, gives you some awesome abilities and a certain respect… The problem is you need to be worthy to use it. Or, I don't know… be a little crazy…".
Chuu-chuu.
The sound of the kettle pulled me back from my morning existential crisis.
I turned my neck towards the noise. The water was bubbling strongly, releasing steam that fogged up the tiles behind the stove. I took a few hurried steps, turned off the kettle, and waited for the bubbles to stop. Then, I poured myself a cup of that simple coffee: two spoons, no sugar.
Here at home, strong black coffee is a tradition.
"Oops… damn it!" I said, spilling a little coffee on the dishtowel that was on the counter.
"Oh, it's almost microscopic, no one will notice! Right?" I muttered to myself.
With the mug in hand, I returned silently to my room. The hallway seemed colder than before, but maybe it was just reality giving me a thermal shock.
As soon as I entered, I brought the fingers of my right hand together in the shape of a pincer.
"Axiomatic Tessellation," I whispered, forming a line of connection between my fingers.
The room, still dimly lit, was filled with a discreet glow. My Literary Mark, etched on my right wrist, shone light blue, almost as if smiling. The air around my fingers vibrated slightly, distorting the light for a brief moment.
"Using this enchantment is still difficult… applying geometric principles is much easier reading than while channeling," I concluded, feeling the delicate tension in my fingers.
I connected them all to each other, carefully closed my fist, and pointed my index finger forward. In the air, I drew a hexagon with a firm stroke.
When the flow of magic energy ceased, the figure glowed… and there it was: a small suspended platform, floating in the middle of the room, like an island in the middle of an ocean.
I placed the mug in the center of the hexagon, with the solemnity of an alchemist offering their tribute.
"Well, they say… Euclid discovered one of history's most versatile concepts," I murmured, observing the subtle glow of the floating shape. "I wonder if I can use this in combat…".
I sighed.
"Tsk… I remember I still need to practice creating second-level axioms better," I recalled, looking at the notes strewn across the table in my study corner.
Glancing quickly around the room, I paused for a moment, noticing the room's organization. It was simple, yet methodical, exactly the style I preferred.
The bed was against the wall to the left of the door, a simple white twin bed, characteristic of the furniture style I liked. A nightstand was beside it, where I kept some books, my backpack, and some makeup.
Turning to the opposite side, there was my study desk, with my simple Acer laptop on top of it, and a chair improvised with an old cushion.
To the right of the desk was my grand wardrobe; that thing was old… probably even older than me. So, it had history.
Speaking of which, if anything in that room could talk, it would tell the craziest adventures. It would definitely be the old antique mirror that sat next to the small nightstand.
It had an ornate bronze frame, with clear signs of its age. It gleamed incredibly in the room.
It was my favorite part of the room; besides, I used it every morning to get ready. And today wouldn't be any different.
Before heading to my beloved study area, I spent a moment looking at myself in the mirror, which despite its age, was impeccable, clean, and in good condition.
I saw myself in it and took the opportunity to arrange my dark brown hair, which already reached a bit past my shoulders.
My characteristic feature was the strong brown tone at the tips. Furthermore, I quickly applied some skin cream to my face. My greenish eyes have always been one of the main reasons my self-esteem is so good sometimes.
And of course, my height, for a 5'6" girl, I was practically a pole…
'He he, I cannot complain for sure, I got a good genetics from Mom….'
For the rest, I just quickly tidied my clothes, which were still a bit wrinkled, and headed to my study chair.
There, amidst the controlled chaos of stacked books, crumpled papers, and notes with scribbled formulas, my world grew.
As a second-year student, I needed to prepare for the university admission tests that would happen the following year. The famous and dreaded vestibulares.
And for that, I began to explore different books. Among them all, the most important ones I studied that year were by Euclid, especially "The Elements." An extremely versatile book, widely used by literary figures in mathematics and physics.
I've always been interested in these fields. After all, using numerical concepts to understand how magic worked was quite uncommon, especially where I lived.
That's why I decided to test if training with these books could generate any useful enchantments for the magic combat classes that awaited me in senior year.
I hoped to be ready in time.
The long-awaited final year was approaching, and with it, the prom, dilemmas about career, work, future…
And, of course, the vestibulares.
The most hated word by all my classmates. But, for some reason, I never shared their feelings of hatred or fear. Mainly because I always found the idea of the tests a bit silly. After all….
If education was supposedly public, then it should be accessible to everyone, right?. So, why on earth were there tests?. Or rather, tournaments to see who was the smartest among the readers?.
'Maybe, to know who's the best…'
I was trying to find a counterpoint to my idea.
"Tsk, but what's the purpose of ranking the best and worst? To divide those who are useful from those who aren't?" I pondered. "Many questions, few answers. Typical! Typical!" I concluded.
While organizing my bed, folding the blankets here and there and repositioning everything neatly.
After finishing the organization, I returned to pondering the dilemma again, but with no apparent result.
I mean, I preferred to leave these problems for Helena in 2020; after all, she would be the one who had to deal with it. Haha, not me!.
Wait, technically it is me, but… you get it, right?.
Better leave that alone… There's something else more important to ponder.
Even if I don't think the idea of tests is a good thing, I couldn't deny that I needed to take them seriously. They were crucial; I needed to prepare well.
I looked around and checked what needed to be organized among the notes.
"Well, I already know what career I intend to pursue. The first step is already taken. Now, I need to prepare for the specific tests. Since I'm going into STEM, I can afford to focus more on practical subjects, the application of literary fundamentals, and mathematical vision. The problem will be the physical combat test…"
I picked up my notes from the night before and laid them out in front of me to see what I had already done and how I would proceed.
"Who knew that to be a physicist, I'd have to win a fighting championship, like those classic Shonen series… It's almost as if the Creator was out of creativity when they decided to create this part of humanity. Crazy…" I reflected, wondering if the Creator had some ironic sense with the characters they wrote. Just then, I started hearing some noises in the kitchen….
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
It was the characteristic footsteps of my mother waking up. Oh, the classic Brazilian mom. It was quite commo—.
"HELENA!!" I heard a shout that made me jump from my chair and almost fall to the floor. I got up and ran to the kitchen.
"What is it, Mom?" I asked, seeing her near the counter. "Did something happen?".
"Helena Ivyra Conceição, why is my dishtowel stained with coffee?! HUH?!" said Mrs. Eduarda Conceição, incredulous and highly stressed by the incident at 6:10 AM this December Wednesday….
Seeing her, so happy despite her brown hair with several white strands messy from the morning. And all her malevolence in her body already marked by age. But, always with her rigid posture and always with a sharp gaze. It was something that always made me happy.
'Mothers… the universe's greatest enigma,' I retorted in my mind, of course. I wasn't crazy enough to say it out loud.
"I spilled a little coffee earlier, accidentally… But besides that, you look radiant today, Mom! Did you cut your hair??" I said, with a wide smile, trying to avoid another frying pan smack, as had happened in previous cases.
"Go drink your coffee, creature. Before I give you another 'magical awakening' with the frying pan," my mother replied, picking up the towel and heading towards the laundry room.
I kept watching, but I didn't give up.
"I'm serious! I felt a different style! As if the universe had more sparkle in your hair today!".
I heard her snort, without turning her face.
"What you'll feel is the slipper of the multiverse hitting your common sense, that's what".
"Mom! This could be the start of a legendary saga. Imagine: The Girl with the Enchanted Frying Pan!".
"Girl, if you don't eat that bread now, your saga will be in the hospital".
And that's how I understood that every great hero started their day with a good, strong coffee, and, sometimes, a frying pan smack.