Second Year at the Magic Academy: Festival
ONCE a year, the Magic Academy held a festival. Normally, the school prohibited anyone except staff, faculty, and students from being on the grounds. Not to mention the large degree of autonomy the educational institution was allowed by the federal government. But the festival day was the only time the Academy opened its doors to the public. Naturally, the general citizenry arrived in droves to enjoy the myriad offerings.
“Hmm… I wonder if I can manage tomorrow. I’m a bit worried, to be honest.”
In her dormitory room, Emma’s heart pounded with nervousness and excitement as she stared at the mountain of hair ornaments she’d made by hand.
“You practiced so much. You’ll be fine, I promise!”
Though she nodded emphatically, Rashida looked uneasy as she held a comb. This festival represented a stage for students to display mastery of their studies. Last year, all they had to do was wander around and appreciate their upperclassmen’s stalls and exhibits because first-years didn’t participate. But now that they were second-year students, it was different. Accordingly, Emma and Rashida decided to open a hairstyling salon with a few of their friends.
The magic required to change hair color and styles was difficult, even among the many that fell under the life magic umbrella. Which explained why lady’s maids skilled in such magic were in high demand. Nobles visited the school’s festival with their families, so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility for aristocrats to speak to any students who excelled at the art. So Emma and her other friends, aiming to become lady’s maids, saw their salon as a grand opportunity.
As usual, Emma labored extensively when it came to magical control, much more than others. Unlike her attempts at reheating tea, there was no physical danger to others. But if she lost focus for even a second, someone’s hair could wind up an extreme color or style.
“You’ve improved a lot since you first started practicing. And when you have succeeded with your hair arrangements, you’ve done it better than anyone else!”
“That would be all well and good were it not for my success rate barely reaching twenty percent…”
Emma couldn’t help sulking. As she had noted, she only succeeded at magical hair dyeing two out of ten times. In her estimation, such a low number automatically disqualified her from working with any guests who visited the Academy for the festival.
“Emma, haste makes waste and all that, so calm down,” Rashida advised. “You can worry about employment opportunities next year. That means you still have a year’s worth of time to get this down pat.”
“You’re right… You’re absolutely right. Then this year, I’ll focus on doing my best by supporting everyone else.”
She remembered Rashida’s failed attempt on the first day of school to change her hair black, instead winding up with a strangely glittering gray color. But a blunder like that was impossible for her friend now. Emma returned her friend’s smile with a weak one of her own. Yet inside, she couldn’t help thinking she was the only one still lagging behind everyone else. She sighed softly, plagued by morose thoughts.