I got up from my chair and went into the living room.
Consistent with his in-game characterization, Kousuke Takioto didn’t appear to be a bright student by any stretch of the imagination. Only around half of the problems on the tests tucked inside the pages of his notebooks and textbooks were marked correct. Meanwhile, the photos of famous and important people adorning the covers of his magic history and language books had been doodled over, poorly.
I thought to myself, What the hell, man? Take school seriously, but then, starting from last year, his textbooks suddenly lost all their scribbles. Instead, written all over them were a variety of magic circles and formulas.
I closed the magic history textbook. Then I picked up an overly pristine magic tome that featured an illustration of a monkey holding a book in its hands on the cover.
“Magic for Monkeys?”
I flipped through the pages of the book, which was so free of any doodles or creases that it had probably never been opened before. This brought up some questions, but without any clear answers, I decided to disregard them. I guess I’d try reading it for now.
If this book was to be believed, all creatures born into this world possessed mana, which was present even in the atmosphere. This lined up with what I had read of the in-game lore.
Utilizing that mana brought forth the wonder of magic—the creation of fire, the summoning of water, and the invocation of the wind. It was even possible to create earth and metal.
However, since these marvels consumed a proportionate amount of mana, magic-users needed to possess an equivalent or greater amount of mana in return. The primary difference between the average person and a magic-user was the size of their mana reserves. Apparently. Though, if things were the same as in the game, then Kousuke Takioto proudly possessed enough mana to make even a teacher at the Academy blush. It was about the only thing he could be proud of.
“Aw, I tried copying exactly what’s written there, but is this it? I do have this weird feeling all of a sudden, though…”
If I were to describe it, I’d say that, much like my eyes and ears perceived light and sound, it felt as though my whole body had become a new sensory organ of its own. I could feel what I assumed was some mysteriously warm magical energy radiating from my figure, but at the same time, it felt like a similar presence existed separate from my form as well. This outward energy softly brushed up against me. It honestly tickled.
“Hmm, why did I start perceiving this energy so clearly the moment I became aware of its existence?”
I couldn’t come up with an explanation. It wasn’t surprising, given I didn’t really know anything about this mana stuff in the first place. That’s it, I should try using some magic. If I could, then I would be able to say for sure if what I felt was mana or not.
“Ummm, Light.”
According to the book, the illumination spell Light used a small amount of mana, so even non-magic-users could cast it. But to be honest, I doubted whether I’d be able to cast something this simple. When had I ever experienced magic before? Contrary to my expectations, however, the phenomenon happened instantly.
“No way… You can’t be serious…”
A light floated before my eyes. I sliced my hand through the air around the glow, checking to see if there was a cord or some other power source attached to the light, but my hand only met air. Then I slowly brought my hands toward the glow.
“Ha, ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha! This. Is freaking. Awesome!”
I wasn’t able to touch the luminescence, however. Nor did it give off any heat. My hand simply went through it, right down the middle. Its shape remained unchanged, however, and it didn’t move an inch. When I stopped the supply of mana, the mysterious glow immediately vanished.
I turned out all the lights in the room and closed the curtains. Then I cast the spell again.
With a flash, the mysterious, gleaming orb illuminated the dark interior. I cut off the mana flow and recited the incantation to extinguish the light. Upon doing so, the orb disappeared immediately, and the interior grew dark again. When I repeated the Light incantation, its glow returned to the room.
“I don’t believe it…”
Unlike an electric-powered light source, the orb emitted no heat. It was solely composed of mana. Sure enough, immediately after I cut off the mana supply, the glow would disappear. Casting the spell again lit the area up in a flash.
I grew more impressed each time I cast Light. This mysterious power called magic excited me.
If someone else had seen me, they probably would have wondered what the hell I was doing. After all, Light was the very first enchantment a magic-user learned. It was apparently taught around kindergarten or early elementary school, so it wouldn’t be strange for someone to scold me for getting worked up over something so basic. How could I not, though?
What if a person from a world without electricity suddenly saw a television or the Internet for the first time? If they didn’t piss themselves right then and there, they’d at least freeze up at the sight. However, in our world, the existence of electricity was normal, something we grew accustomed to from a young age. Not surprising at all.
Magic must be the same way. It would probably be discouraging if I saw just how many people in this world would ridicule me for being so worked up about such an elementary enchantment. Still, I wanted to chew them out—you try coming here from a world without magic. To you lot, it might just be Light, but to me, it’s an electricity-free, levitating source of illumination.
“Daaaaaaaang…”
I cast Light and immediately extinguished it, then I repeated the process again. Each time amazed me just as much as the first. A thought then began percolating in my mind.
I extended my hand to the luminescence and tried to completely envelop it. Then, slowly opening my hand, I gazed at the unwavering glow. As I did this, I felt the smolder inside me gradually grow into a burning fire.
I wanted to use spells to try out all sorts of new things.