In a world where magic decides everything, the prestigious floating magic academy of Celestia is a battleground for gifted nobles and geniuses.
Lyra, 17, is a quiet girl who loves books more than people. She spends every day unnoticed in a corner of the library, reading. But Lyra hides an earth-shattering secret: she possesses a staggering magical talent no one at the academy knows about.
One day, Aiden, the academy's biggest troublemaker, accidentally witnesses Lyra's true power in the librar
The Invisible Throne of a Quiet Mage - The shackles and the words left behind, a resolve lit on a tearful night
The sky over the Gladius Arena was overcast, heavy as lead.
The spectator stands were packed. Noble sons and daughters, professors, and scholarship students of common birth all watched the center of the arena with bated breath. Today was the ranking duel—the main event of the Gladius Tournament. Win, and you rose in rank. Lose, and you fell. The outcome would shape the rest of their lives after graduation.
Lyra sat huddled at the very edge of the stands, in the shadow of a pillar. She unconsciously fiddled with the end of her long silver braid. Her pale gray eyes, behind round glasses, were fixed on the arena.
(Aiden...)
There, at the center of the arena, stood that bright red hair. Messy short hair, always sticking up on the right side. Freckles all over his face. Fresh bandages and old scars on both hands. His bright green eyes stared straight at his opponent.
"Come on, bring it!"
Aiden's voice echoed through the arena. Laughter erupted from the stands. The academy's number one problem child. And yet, many students came to watch his matches. Because no one ever knew what would happen.
His opponent was an upperclassman from the Knight Division. A full size larger in build, equipped with an iron shield. Lyra didn't know his name. She just stared at Aiden's bandage-covered hands.
(He pushed himself so recklessly in practice yesterday...)
Lyra knew that Aiden had stayed alone in the arena last night, training his magic control. She'd heard it from Edith. He'd said it was to protect her.
A sharp pain pricked deep in her chest.
The bell signaling the start of the match rang.
The upperclassman raised his shield and charged. Aiden grinned.
"Wind, come to me!"
The air around Aiden began to swirl. Wind magic. His specialty. But—
A chill ran down Lyra's spine.
(What... is this—the air feels wrong)
The ether particles in the atmosphere were being drawn toward Aiden's body, as if dragged by something. This was clearly different from ordinary wind magic. The amount was abnormal.
Aiden himself noticed it too.
"...Huh? W-Wait, this is—"
The wind around him exploded.
BOOOOOM!!!
The shockwave shook the entire arena. The protective barrier around the stands flared up, glowing pale blue. Cracks spread across it, snapping and splintering.
"The barrier won't hold! Everyone, get down!"
Screams. Shouts of anger. Spectators fleeing in panic.
Lyra stood up.
(Aiden!)
She tried to step forward. But—she couldn't move.
Her fingertips trembled violently. Her heart pounded hard in her ears. It was just like that day with the tornado. Her body froze, refusing to move.
Aiden thrashed within the raging torrent of wind.
"Damn it... stop, I said stop!"
His body was lifted by the wind and slammed into the ground. THUD. He got up. The wind blew again. Blood scattered.
Right before Lyra's eyes, the barrier of light shattered.
CRASH!!!
Fragments rained down on the stands. The shockwave struck Lyra's cheek. Blood seeped from a small cut.
"Aiden..."
Her voice wouldn't come out. Her throat felt glued shut, refusing to move.
—At that moment.
"That is enough."
A low, commanding voice resounded throughout the arena.
Lyra's head snapped up.
In the center of the VIP box stood a tall man with silver hair swept back. Morgan Valstein, First Councilor of the Academy Council. Casper's father. In his fifties. He wore a thin smile as he looked down upon the arena, now transformed into a storm.
(That man... Morgan Valstein)
Lyra's throat made a small, sharp sound. The same cold eyes she had seen at the magic school inquiry. The man with those eyes.
Morgan raised his right hand.
"Noxguard. Apprehend the traitor."
From the four entrances of the arena, men in black poured in. Noxguard. The Valstein family's private army. An elite magical combat unit composed of former soldiers and bounty hunters.
Without mercy, they clamped magic-sealing shackles onto Aiden, who had collapsed in the storm.
CLANK.
"Wh-What the hell is this...! I didn't... I didn't do anything...!"
Aiden struggled desperately. But as the shackles glowed, his magic was drained away, and the wind died down as if it had never been.
Morgan declared through the microphone:
"This man, Aiden, has used forbidden magic during the tournament. In accordance with the academy's regulations and the laws of the kingdom, he shall be dealt with as a traitor."
The stands buzzed.
"Forbidden magic...?"
"That failure? Something so outrageous?"
Lyra bit her lip.
(No. That's wrong! Since last night... Aiden has been at the academy the whole time...)
She could swear to it. There was no way Aiden would use forbidden magic. That was just an accident—his unstable magic going out of control. Everyone in the academy knew that.
And yet.
The Noxguard men grabbed Aiden's arms and forced him to his feet.
Aiden's face turned toward Lyra.
A face covered in blood and dirt. His green eyes locked directly onto Lyra, at the edge of the stands, in the shadow of the pillar.
And then, he smiled.
"Don't laugh, it suits me, right?"
He waved his shackled wrists toward Lyra, fluttering them lightly.
Lyra's vision blurred with tears.
"Aiden..."
Her voice trembled. She tried to speak. But her throat wouldn't move, as if glued shut. Her fingertips dug into the pillar.
(No, don't go)
The Noxguard dragged Aiden away.
"Lyra, I'll be waiting."
His voice melted into the commotion of the arena and vanished.
—The strength drained from Lyra's legs.
She collapsed on the spot.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry, I couldn't move..."
She repeated it in a small voice. Pathetic, frustrated, she desperately held back the scream rising from the depths of her throat.
"Lady Lyra."
With a presence like a shadow, Edith was standing beside her. Short ash-brown hair, with only the left side of her bangs pinned back. Quiet amber eyes. A thin old scar running from her jaw to below her ear. A taciturn knight-in-training who always held her back perfectly straight.
She supported Lyra's body. Despite her cold expression, her hands were warm.
"Don't dwell on it. Move next time."
That was all Edith said. She helped Lyra to her feet and led her behind the stands. Through the panicking crowd, she stood in front of Lyra like a shield.
"But... I... Aiden, I..."
Her voice broke through tears.
"Wait. Lord Aiden smiled at you. So it's okay to cry now. I'll escort you to your room."
Edith's voice was blunt, but strangely gentle.
Lyra leaned her weight into Edith's arm.
――――
The VIP box.
Casper Valstein could feel his own legs trembling throughout his entire body.
His indigo-black hair was neatly parted, and the silver family crest brooch gleamed on his left chest—his appearance was unchanged from usual. But his golden, narrow eyes were wide open.
"...Father. That was an accident. Aiden's magic has always been unstable—"
"Silence. You are my son. Do not question my judgment."
Morgan looked down at his son.
"No one at this academy is capable of using forbidden magic. Aiden is a traitor. This is final."
Casper's fingertips turned ice-cold.
(Why?)
He had never been able to defy his father's words. Even so.
(That man... he's certainly insolent, infuriating. But he's not the kind of person who would use forbidden magic)
Casper clenched his fists until they turned white.
But he could not argue with his father.
The words froze in the back of his throat and wouldn't come out.
(I am... useless)
――――
Lyra returned to her room in the girls' dormitory.
Edith stood silently in front of the door. Lyra couldn't even bring herself to knock.
On her bed, Lyra cried, stifling her voice.
"...This is awful."
"It's my fault. Because I didn't hide my power. Because I couldn't protect him."
Tears soaked into the sheets.
She buried her face in the pillow and cried until she ran out of breath.
――――
How much time had passed?
Lyra slowly sat up.
On her desk lay a single letter.
When had it been placed there? By whom?
No wax seal. A folded sheet of white paper.
She reached out. Her fingertips trembled, making the paper quiver.
She unfolded it.
It was rough, hurried handwriting.
—Don't come until you're strong. Not until you can use magic like what I showed you, on your own.
That was all.
Lyra clutched the letter.
The paper crumpled.
(He said he'd wait for me)
The letter was telling her. Don't come until you're strong.
(Then I'll become strong)
For the first time, a voiceless scream welled up from the depths of Lyra's throat.
Anger, sorrow, and love blazed up from the pit of her stomach.
This is my story.
Her fingertips, her limbs, her heart—all burning hot.
Tears still streaming, Lyra pulled her mother's memento grimoire close. An old leather cover. Silver lettering. The one precious thing her mother had left behind.
With trembling hands, she opened the pages.
(Aiden. I will... to you...)
Something burning ignited deep in her chest.
A fierce determination she had never felt before.
"...Please wait for me. I will definitely—"
Her voice echoed through the dark room—small, but certain.
――――
The hallway outside the room.
Edith had been standing with her back against the door the entire time.
Her amber eyes stared at the ceiling.
(Lady Lyra is crying)
Edith bit her lip.
(Even though I said I would protect her)
She clenched her fist, grinding it tight.
(I couldn't stop Lord Aiden. I couldn't stop what was essentially my father's condemnation)
She squeezed her fist so hard her nails dug into her palm.
The taste of blood.
Pain was the only thing that told her today had been real.
(But I won't run)
Edith closed her eyes.
(Next time, I will definitely protect Lady Lyra)
The night was still long.
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