I was sitting beside Sirius, reading the book we'd stolen nearly a week ago. It was fascinating — a detailed account of the many ways mana could interact with the body. Still, that didn't really interest me. After all, I couldn't even control the mana inside me, much less the one in the air — which would probably explode the moment I tried to touch it.
"Useless… useless… useless…"
I muttered aloud as I flipped through the pages, searching for something that might catch my attention.
"Man, you'll find something eventually, no way you won't," Sirius said, fiddling or knitting what looked like a glove. "I managed to get a few useful ideas out of that book, so maybe you'll find something you like too."
"Like what? 'Please, Mr. Book! Help me cure my magical dysfunction so I can be normal like everyone else.'"
"Was the sarcasm really necessary?" Sirius grinned. "You betray me."
I laughed a little, but then I reached a chapter that caught my eye — something about the eyes themselves. Honestly, it wasn't that different from what our teacher had once mentioned. The title read: 'The Window of the Soul.'
I had to admit, the name was clever — a poetic twist on a common saying. But what I couldn't understand was why eyes were such a big deal in magical studies. I mean, just because someone has blue eyes doesn't mean their affinity is water or ice. It doesn't work like that.
Still, as I kept reading, I found the reason this field of research began in the first place: the people with violet eyes.
They were said to be mages capable of dreaming — and through those dreams, they could materialize what they saw, revealing truths or memories thought lost to time. The text mentioned something called "Beyond the Walls of Stone."
Was that… a reference to the Wailing Wall? What did the author mean by that?
BAAM!
"The mighty William has arrived!" announced my friend, bursting through the door.
"Yes, yes. Close it on your way in," Sirius replied, not even turning around as he struggled with the mess on his bed.
William narrowed his eyes mid-stride.
"Hello to you too, jackass."
The three of us laughed as a few orphans ran past the hallway behind him.
"What are you doing now? Knitting?" William asked.
Sirius, who had been working on that glove for what felt like a day straight, looked up at him, then silently slipped the glove on and shook William's hand.
"OW! YOU SON OF A.."
William yanked his hand away while Sirius burst into genuine laughter.
"You should've seen your face! Hahaha!"
"What the hell did you make?" I asked, setting the book aside.
"Definitely something from hell," William muttered, still shaking his hand. "That hurt."
"Well…" Sirius began, holding up both the book and the glove.
"I found this in the Old Man's library; it's about the use of magic and technology. Technomancy. The book explains how magic users can channel mana through their bodies into specific functions via specialized equipment that emulates magical effects. Basically, it needs a conductor, in this case, a copper core inside the glove that channels the element I choose, electricity. It releases an electric discharge proportional to the mana used, which travels through the microfibers into the enemy's muscles, which, in this case, was your arm. So there are several factors that must align, including..."
William and I exchanged a look as if he were speaking a foreign language.
"What?" Sirius frowned, wounded by our blank stares.
"Nerd…" we both said at once.
"What can I say?!" Sirius protested. "You two think you can fight. I actually do things that happen."
"Hey!" William argued. "At least I can run fast!"
"The only one here, you blockhead, who can actually fight and win is Mordred," Sirius said. "You saw what he did to that guy with no magic? That was just raw instinct. He's a beast."
"Well, he did tame those insane horses from Mr. Hans, the bailiff." William nodded. "So he gets credit for that."
"Alright, enough," I said, feeling a bit too flattered.
"Why do you think I've been working on this thing for a week?" Sirius continued. "Ever since we were attacked by those bandits, I've been trying to find a way to defend myself."
"So what do you call that?" I asked, pointing at the glove.
"'Diplomacy.' Has a nice irony to it, don't you think?"
"Diplomacy, my ass," William grumbled, rubbing his arm.
"See? Irony," Sirius smirked, making me laugh. "I don't have the reflexes of some carnivorous beast. If I had to describe them, they're somewhere between a sloth and a turtle, so yeah, I need tools."
"Fair enough." I chuckled. "The glove seems useful, but it'll only buy you time."
"Yeah. And another issue is the microfibers, I bought them with part of the money we got from pawning those jewels. They don't last long. Even with that copper fiber that you have given me" Sirius sighed, removing the fuzzy black glove.
William glanced at the piles of books on magic and technomancy stacked all around Sirius's side of the room.
"I'm sure you'll come up with something. By the way, how did you handle the money we gave to the director?"
"Oh, I gave it to a guy I know," Sirius said. "He made a donation to Director Highever on our behalf — took a small cut as a service fee."
I groaned. "So how much actually reached the orphanage? You bought materials, paid a middleman you barely know… I doubt even half the money made it to her. And are you sure this guy's trustworthy? I'm not ready for another 'Old Man' situation."
"Relax. A good amount reached the orphanage — I made sure of it. And he seemed more honest than that crook."
William snorted. "If you call someone who deals with stolen goods 'honest,' then sure."
I couldn't argue with that.
"Anyway," Sirius went on, grabbing another book and tossing it to William. "I got you a gift."
"Books?? Ew! Man, I hate reading—" William started, but then his eyes lit up with mock grandeur as he bowed dramatically. "This "magnanimo" gentleman forgives you."
"It's magnanimous, idiot," Sirius shot back.
"Gods, you two are as affectionate as a brick wall," I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Anyway, classes start soon. Should we get going?"
"Oh, sure, sure," William said suspiciously. "What a convenient excuse. You think I don't know what you're up to?"
"What are you talking about?" I asked, crossing my arms defensively.
"You want to see that girl," William said, then silently mouthed, "L...A...R...A."
I gave him a cold stare and flicked his forehead.
"OW! Why do you guys keep assaulting me?!"
"You deserved it," I chuckled. "There's nothing between me and Lara, we're just friends." My tone softened. "Even if I do think she's beautiful, we—"
"Oooh!" Sirius teased. "He admitted it!"
I covered my face and walked out before the teasing got worse.
Then, suddenly, the floor trembled. The wooden beams groaned in unison, as if ready to snap. I looked around; furniture rattled, and porcelain cracked.
"What's happening?" William asked, trying to steady himself.
"It must be Lara," Sirius guessed. "She's probably undergoing her magic test, awakening her First Circle."
"But wait! She's younger than the required age for that, right?" William said nervously. "She can't awaken her circle so soon, can she?"
"Unless she's a prodigy," I muttered uneasily.
I could feel it — an incredible pressure radiating through the orphanage, heavy enough to make my legs tremble. My friends, who could use magic, treated it almost as normal.
But it wasn't.
The awakening of a Circle wasn't just "magic." It was the first step toward Integration — the full merging of mind, mana, and soul.
And Lara… was doing that at fourteen.
A monster.
"Let's just go check before something worse happens," I said, already moving, while William's sarcasm echoed behind me.
"Oh, look at him, the prince on his white horse! I feel so safe already!"
"Shut it!" I snapped.
We reached the second floor, the creaking grew louder, almost unbearable. Turning left down the corridor, we stopped before a heavy iron door, isolated from the rest of the rooms.
Director Highever was already there, along with a few adult volunteers.
At the center of a crystal barrier… floated Lara.
"Where are her friends?" William asked.
"Far away," Sirius answered immediately. "It's standard procedure. Anyone near an awakening mage can get seriously hurt."
"Like how bad?" I asked.
"Bad enough to put a man built like a bear into a coma for years."
"Good to know," William muttered, paling.
I swallowed hard as we approached the director.
"Boys! Step back, now is not the time." Her voice was stern, though laced with genuine concern.
"What's happening? Is she alright? The whole orphanage is shaking!" Sirius shouted, staring at the girl radiating impossible amounts of arcana. "That's… incredible."
"Please, leave the area," Director Highever insisted. "These evaluators have their job to do. Mr. Ifan will ensure nothing happens to Lara while the barrier holds."
But something was wrong.
The arcane energy overflowed, too unstable; even standing was difficult. From the expressions of the evaluators, I knew it wouldn't hold. The Evaluators wore extensive robes, wearing a red sun as their symbol... I recognized that immediately...that was...one of the Crimson Knights...
And sure enough...
BAAAM! CRASH!
Furniture was flung across the room. The floorboards screamed under pressure.
"Mr. Ifan!" the director cried.
"She's becoming too reactive — we need to recalibrate the crystals with electricity!"- The colaborator said to Ifan that just nooded in confirmation.
Ifan tried to move closer, but a surge of wind and frost hurled him back. Still, he didn't give up. Conjuring a thaumaturgic barrier, he pushed forward, giving the other evaluators room to act.
Then another explosion. Stronger.
They hit the walls hard, dazed but conscious.
"Why the hell don't they just use lightning magic?!" I shouted.
"Exposure!" Sirius replied. "The whole room is saturated with her mana — any spell cast inside could cause a massive chain reaction!"
"Let's go, kids," Highever urged, voice trembling. "We need to get you somewhere safe."
I bit my lip, glancing at Sirius's glove, and without thinking, I grabbed it.
"Give me that!"
"HEY!"
Ifan cracked open the door, and I darted through, ignoring the director's shouts. Sparks burst from Lara's body as she convulsed mid-air.
A sharp pain sliced across my cheek, I could swear it almost took my head off, but I pushed through and leapt to her bedside.
"Boy! Get out of there, now!" Ifan shouted.
Another shockwave, crimson and black, slammed into me, burning through my left arm. I hissed, "Tsk," through clenched teeth but refused to stop.
Sliding the glove onto her wrist, I felt another jolt of electricity sear through my veins.
"Get away!" Lara pleaded, her voice trembling between command and fear. "You'll get hurt!"
Another burst of magic erupted.
I did the one thing. The one thing I should never do—I used the broken mana inside my veins, channeling it through the glove as a conduit. A surge of unstable energy spread outward.
For a brief, miraculous moment… the waves stabilized.
Or so I thought.
The next instant, a repulsive blast launched me across the room. My back crashed through a wooden cabinet, splintering it apart.
Then everything went black.