He held the wand out in front of him. He stood in the center of the small, drafty room. His jet-black hair fell over his eyes as he concentrated. He tried to remember every movie and every novel he had ever consumed back in his old world.
"Accio!" he shouted. He pointed the wooden stick at the ceramic bowl on the stool.
Nothing happened. The bowl didn't even twitch.
He adjusted his stance. As he mimicked a pose he had seen in a popular movie, sweeping the wand in a sharp arc. "Wingardium Leviosa!"
The silence that followed was heavy. He tried a few more nonsense words he remembered from various stories. "Euu! Ignis! Lumos!"
He even tried striking more dramatic poses. He pointed the wand at the floor, then at the ceiling. He tried to imagine a spark of energy flowing from his chest down to his fingertips. He waited for a glow, a hum, or even a tiny puff of smoke.
But the wand remained just a piece of polished wood. It felt warm, but it wasn't doing anything. He looked at it with a mix of confusion and irritation.
"Why isn't this working?" he muttered.
He wondered if the wand was broken. Or perhaps he simply didn't have the "mana" required to use it. In his old life, everything had a manual or a tutorial.
His frustration was quickly interrupted by a loud, hollow growl. His stomach felt like it was trying to fold in on itself. The sharp ache of hunger was becoming impossible to ignore.
'I need to eat before I figure out how to be a magician,' he thought.
He began to search the room. He checked the small table, looking for any stray coins or scraps of bread. He looked under the rickety cot, his fingers brushing through layers of dust and grit. He checked the corners of the room and even felt along the wooden planks of the walls.
There was nothing. Not a single copper coin or a dry crust. It was clear that whoever lived in this body before him was completely broke.
He sighed and walked toward the door. He turned the heavy iron handle. It creaked loudly, the sound echoing in the quiet room. He stepped out into a narrow hallway. The walls here were also made of dark timber and plaster. The floorboards groaned under his weight as he walked.
The hallway was dimly lit by a single flickering torch at the far end. He followed the sound of muffled voices and the clinking of glass. He reached a set of steep, narrow stairs and began to descend.
At the bottom of the stairs, the space opened up into a large, rustic bar. The air was thick with the smell of roasted meat, stale ale, and woodsmoke. It was a complete contrast to the cold silence of his room.
The bar was filled with heavy wooden tables that were stained and scarred from years of use. A few patrons sat in the corners, hunched over their mugs. Sawdust covered the floor to soak up spills.
A large man stood behind the counter. He was polishing a wooden mug with a rag that looked like it had seen better days. He had a thick, salt-and-pepper beard and a face that looked like it was carved out of granite.
The man looked up as Shin approached. A small smirk played on his lips.
"Well, if it isn't the sleeping princess. You're finally up," the bartender said.
Shin paused. The way the man spoke suggested they knew each other. They definitely had some history. Shin tried to keep his expression neutral. He didn't want to give away that he had no idea who this man was.
"I'm awake," Shin said. He leaned against the counter, trying to act natural. "Can you make me some breakfast? And get me something to drink."
The bartender stopped polishing the mug. He looked Shin up and down, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"You got the money for that?" he asked.
Shin froze. A wave of panic hit him. He had just searched his room and found absolutely nothing. If he was on bad terms with this guy, he might be in trouble.
'Did I get this wrong? Was I supposed to have a tab?'
He opened his mouth to say something, but the bartender let out a sudden, booming laugh. He slapped the counter with his hand.
"I'm just joking with you, kid. You look like you've seen a ghost. Sit down. I'll get something started for you."
Shin let out a long breath. He felt his shoulders drop. He moved to a stool by the window and sat down. He watched the man move toward a small hearth at the back of the bar.
While he waited, Shin looked out the window. The street outside was busy. Two men were standing near a butcher's cart. They were arguing loudly over a piece of meat. Their voices carried through the thin glass.
Suddenly, one of the men reached into his belt and pulled out a wand.
"Aguamenti!" the man shouted.
A sphere of shimmering blue water materialized at the tip of his wand. It was a perfect, rotating ball of liquid that glowed with a soft, ethereal light.
Shin stared, his eyes wide. He was mesmerized. The way the water moved was beautiful. It looked like a liquid diamond suspended in the air.
"Magic is real," Shin whispered. "It's actually real!"
The man with the wand flicked his wrist. The ball of water shot forward like a cannonball. It hit the other man, a blonde fellow with a rough face, square in the chest.
The force of the impact was incredible. The blonde man was thrown backward, his feet leaving the ground. He slammed into a wooden post and slumped down. He was completely unconscious before he even hit the dirt.
The man with the wand tucked it back into his belt and grabbed the meat. He walked away as if nothing unusual had happened.
Shin sat there, stunned. He had seen special effects in movies, but seeing it happen a few feet away was different.
The bartender returned a few minutes later. He placed a wooden plate and a mug in front of Shin.
"Here you go. It's not a royal feast, but it'll keep you going," the man said.
Shin looked down at the meal. There was a thick slice of toasted dark bread, a few pieces of fried, salted pork, and a pile of soft, yellow eggs. The mug contained a cold, cloudy cider.
It looked better than anything he could have imagined. He couldn't wait; he grabbed a piece of the pork and took a bite. The salt and grease exploded on his tongue. It was savory and rich. The bread was crusty on the outside and soft in the middle.
"This is amazing," Shin said between bites.
"Hungry as a wolf, I see," the bartender noted.
Shin swallowed a mouthful of cider. "Hey, do you have any magic books around here? Anything that explains how to use a wand?"
The bartender leaned back, crossing his thick arms. "Magic? I was never interested in that stuff. Too much thinking for my taste. I prefer things I can touch."
Shin's heart sank a little. But then the man rubbed his beard.
"Wait. I think I still have a book in the back. Someone left it here months ago to pay off a debt. I don't need it. It's just taking up space."
"Really?" Shin asked.
"Stay put. I'll go grab it."
The man disappeared into a back room. Shin finished his meal in record time. He felt much better now that his stomach wasn't screaming at him.
The bartender returned holding a thick, leather-bound volume. The cover was stained and the edges were frayed, but it looked important. In gold, faded letters, the title read: The Novice's Grimoire: Foundations of Aether.
"Here," the man said, sliding the book across the counter.
Shin took it. The leather felt cool and slightly oily. "Thank you. Truly."
"Don't mention it. I'm surprised you even came out of your room today. You've been moping in there for a week."
Shin didn't know how to respond to that. He just nodded and stood up. "I think I'm going to head back up and read this."
"Good luck, princess," the bartender called out as Shin headed for the stairs.
Shin made his way back up the creaky hallway. He entered his room and shut the door behind him. The smell didn't even bother him as much now. He sat down on the edge of the cot and placed the book on his lap.
His heart was pounding. This was it. This was the moment that would decide his future in this world. He reached out and slowly opened the front cover.
The first page wasn't filled with words. Instead, there was a complex diagram of a human body with glowing lines running through it.