“Anyway, I’m glad she’s doing fine,” Kunon said after he and Elva had left.
The problem with Serraphila had more or less been solved.
The elderly butler had panicked because his charge had shut herself away in her room. That was something she had never done before, so he had come to Kunon for advice.
But now the butler knew the reason for Serraphila’s reclusive behavior. In fact, she had emerged from her room and explained it to him herself.
The case was closed, so Kunon and Elva had departed. The rest was for Serraphila and her servants to figure out.
“Yeah. Thank goodness she’s not sick or anything.”
Kunon and Elva were both sorcerers in the Advanced class.
“She’ll be just fine,” Elva said.
“Yes, she will,” Kunon agreed. “She’ll probably surpass me in no time.”
They both had an idea of what Serraphila was feeling. After all, they had both been down that same road. The rest of the upperclassmen in the Advanced class surely had as well.
“Was there something that helped you get over the wall, Miss Elva?”
“Wall? …Oh, I see what you mean.”
Kunon was talking about something that was hard to put into words, but Elva understood.
“Hmm. How should I put it…? There are stages. To a sorcerer’s growth, I mean.”
As fellow travelers, they both knew what a sorcerer’s journey entailed.
The first stage was simply using the magic you were taught. If you could apply that magic on a practical level—even if only a little—you would be considered a full-fledged sorcerer.
From a non-sorcerer’s perspective, that might be good enough. Most would be satisfied with magic that was helpful in everyday life.
Beyond that line were Advanced class students and those above them. There were exceptions, of course—such as Gioelion—who were great sorcerers despite not entering the Advanced class. But such cases were extremely rare. He probably would have been their classmate if not for his family background.
“Serra told me she’s the type to quickly master anything she tries. She gave horse riding and book learning as examples. Even magic came easily to her, apparently. I guess she’s just a prodigy.”
That had probably been the source of Serraphila’s initial indifference toward magic. She’d mastered the spells she was taught so easily she hadn’t developed any special attachment to the art. But that was all there was to it.
“A prodigy, huh?” mused Kunon. “I’m jealous.”
As if you’re not a prodigy, too, Elva thought, but she didn’t say it.
She knew how much time and effort Kunon had put in to achieve his current level of skill. He’d probably had to work even harder because he was blind. She felt like ignoring that and simply calling him a “prodigy” would belittle his hardships.
“Miss Serraphila must have felt the wall for the first time on that expedition.”
There were so-called full-fledged sorcerers, and then there were those who went even further. Serraphila was currently one of the former. But she was now aware of the boundary—the wall that existed between her and her classmates—and she had begun her efforts to break through it.
Kunon and Elva had once been in her place, so they knew she would be fine.
This was a natural part of any sorcerer’s growth. Kunon had first felt the wall after a careless remark from his first instructor. Thinking back, he had pushed himself really hard, too.
Using magic to create eyes had been quite a challenge to take on for a child who knew basically nothing about theory. But he had never once thought it impossible. That was why he hadn’t given up.
In fact, he was still on that journey. Should he continue to improve the Glass Eye, or should he come up with something different? There were countless things he wanted to try.
He and Elva reflected on their past selves as they walked in relative silence. They were headed back to magic school, just like always.
“Miss Elva,” said Kunon, breaking the silence. “I had a thought I want to share with you. It’s nothing serious, though.”
“What is it? Do you want my advice on something, too?”
“Not advice, per se. I just want your thoughts on something I’ve been wondering about. Oh, but first, please forgive me for thinking of something other than you while at your side. You’re a mystical flower that shines brightly enough to illuminate the darkest of nights and should always have the full attention of those around you.”
“Uh, thanks, I think. I let my mind wander while at the side of a cute little gentleman like you, too. So don’t worry about it.”
After this preamble, Kunon continued. “You know the wall Miss Serraphila is trying to overcome? I’m on the other side of it. So are you and Bael, for example. That’s what I think.”
“Okay.”
Beyond the wall was an endless road leading toward the abyss of magic.
Everyone on their side of the wall—including Elva, the other Advanced class students, and even the teachers—walked that road and occasionally found themselves lost.
It was a difficult concept to explain, but all sorcerers felt it once their growth reached a certain point.
“My thought relates to that,” he said, his tone casual. “I was thinking, what if Gray Rouva isn’t there with us? What if she overcame another wall beyond the first one?”
“…!”
Elva’s head snapped toward Kunon. She felt as if he had slapped her, though she felt no physical pain.
He was speaking nonsense. But somehow, she thought she understood what he meant.
It was just a feeling. She didn’t know if Kunon was right. There might not be another wall. But despite her better judgment, a part of her felt he might be onto something.
He had no evidence to support his theory, of course. But because they were in the same place on their respective journeys, she knew how he felt.
“Yeah… She is different somehow, isn’t she?”
Gray Rouva was considered the world’s greatest witch. Elva had never seen her magic before. She had merely glimpsed her Mysterious Shadow Box, and only from a distance.
If she thought back, however… The witch’s magic certainly felt like it came from a different place than the magic she and her peers used. There was something fundamentally different about it.
That was what Kunon meant when he said he thought she might be beyond some other wall.
His explanation made a surprising amount of sense. Gray Rouva’s magic was different in nature from theirs. That was why they couldn’t understand it. They couldn’t single out any of her spells or figure out how to replicate them.