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 - Dawn at the Fortress, the Quiet Girl's Choice
The sky before dawn was still dark, as if ink had been poured across it.
In Lux Plaza, the main gate square of Celestia Academy, only the long shadow of the white marble founder's statue stretched across the ground, with not a soul in sight. Lyra stood alone on the covered walkway near the gate lift boarding area—the transfer gate that descended from the academy floating in the sky down to the surface.
Her long silver hair was loosely braided to one side, round glasses perched on her nose, and she clutched an old bag hanging from her shoulder with both hands. Her thin shoulders trembled faintly in the night air.
(*It's okay. No one's awake yet.*)
Lyra repeated that in her mind, over and over.
She'd lost count of how many times since last night. It felt like cold water had pooled deep inside her body, and her fingertips had been numb the whole time. Every breath made her throat sting.
Inside her bag was her mother's journal.
The keepsake Lyra had found deep in the forbidden archive. That book, outwardly thought to be an old grimoire. When opened, its pages were filled with words her mother had written in her youth.
Lyra had read through that journal again last night.
Her mother had written:
*"When someone you love falls into danger, your body moves before fear does. There's no time to think about being afraid. Even so, your body—your heart—moves first."*
Her mother had someone like that too. A past that belonged only to her mother, one Lyra didn't know. And her mother, to save that person, had used the power within her for the first time by her own will.
Lyra traced that passage in her mind, again and again.
(*When someone you love falls into danger.*)
Behind her eyelids, she saw Aiden being led away in shackles that day. His bright red hair swaying, and yet he was smiling.
(*Even so, he was smiling.*)
A sharp pain squeezed deep in her chest.
Today marked five days since he'd been taken. She couldn't wait any longer. She *couldn't* wait.
Lyra clenched her trembling hands in front of the gate lift doors.
She hadn't told Edith. She hadn't told Casper. She would go silently, alone. She couldn't put them in danger. She had no right to.
(*And besides... I have to go.*)
The gate lift began to move with a low hum. Pale blue light woven from magical energy filled the rectangular frame of the door. Once enveloped in this light, she could descend to the surface town of Stellamund in an instant.
Lyra stepped forward into the light.
――――
The first-floor hall of Linden Tower, the relay tower on the surface side, was still dark. The lights in the caretaker's room were off as well. Without being noticed by anyone, Lyra slipped out of the tower.
The town of Stellamund lay in slumber. The streets lined with stone houses showed no sign of people. The air was crisp and clear, and from the northern mountains, the scent of snow rode in on the wind.
(*I need to rent a horse.*)
Fort Falgrim was a full day away by horse. It was a distance she could never reach on foot. Lyra walked toward an inn on the outskirts of town.
The doors would open as soon as dawn broke. She could see a small horse-rental shop ahead on the cobblestone road, its signboard painted with a picture of a horse.
"Excuse me, I'd like to rent a horse."
The shopkeeper emerged from the back, rubbing his sleepy eyes. A man in his mid-thirties with a long apron and chestnut-brown hair tied back. Lyra pulled out some copper and silver coins she'd saved separately from her dormitory fees and held them out.
"You're up awfully early. Where are you headed?"
"...North. To a relative's place."
She lied. Her stomach clenched tight. She desperately fought to keep her voice from trembling with anxiety over whether she had enough money.
The shopkeeper gave Lyra a long look and let out a small sigh.
"You're acquainted with that young fellow who was taken from the academy five days ago, aren't you."
Lyra felt her vision lurch and distort.
"...Don't go pushing yourself. The northern mountain roads are still cold this time of year. Even for folks from this town, it's not a road for a girl to travel alone at this hour."
Even so, she couldn't turn back. *Please*, she forced the words out.
The shopkeeper was silent for a moment, then brought out a horse from the back. A small chestnut-colored horse.
"I'll cut you a deal on the price. In exchange, you come back by tonight, no matter what."
"Thank you."
Lyra gripped the horse's reins. Her hands were shaking. The leather of the reins clung cold against her skin.
(*Let's go.*)
She placed her foot in the stirrup and tried to mount.
She couldn't.
Her body felt heavy, as if she were carrying stones on her back.
(*Again. I'm freezing up again.*)
It was just like that day. That moment when she could only watch from the shadow of a pillar in the spectator stands as Aiden was taken away. Ice water pushed up from inside her body. Warmth drained from her hands and feet.
—But Lyra placed her hand on the horse's back.
(*I'm scared.*)
(*I'm scared. Taking someone's horse without permission. Going to a fortress without permission. Trying to hurt people.*)
The passage from the journal echoed in her mind again.
*"When someone you love falls into danger, your body moves before fear does."*
"U-uu..."
A sound escaped her. Even as she clenched her teeth, the heat she'd been holding back overflowed from deep in her throat. Even so, Lyra set her foot back in the stirrup.
She pushed her trembling body up onto the horse's back.
Her vision lurched.
(*Aiden!*)
Beyond her blurred vision, only his smiling face appeared.
――――
Professor Vane sat in a chair on the third floor of the library before dawn, his long legs stretched out.
His long platinum-blond hair was loosely tied back. His sleepy violet eyes were half-closed as he gazed absently at the dark sky outside the window. With his left hand, he idly twirled a thin silver earring between his fingertips.
Lyra was not in the library. He'd known that for a while. He'd seen her slip out of her dorm room, seen her shadow heading for the gate lift, even seen the business at the surface horse-rental shop where she'd underpaid somewhat.
"Well, whatever."
He muttered quietly and yawned.
He'd kill some time, then drag out his lecture several times longer and more tediously than usual. That would draw the academy's attention his way. If Lyra needed people kept away, that would do.
"Hmm. ...So, what was I talking about again?"
His quiet laughter was absorbed into the empty night library.
――――
By the time she entered the mountain road, the eastern sky had finally begun to pale.
The horse walked north at a pace that wouldn't throw Lyra off.
The morning air was cold, like plunging her face into water. The sensation in her limbs had long since dulled. The corners of her lips were cracked and stinging. Her stomach was empty, and yet she had no desire to eat anything.
(*Mother. I'm going.*)
In her chest, she spoke to her mother's voice.
(*Lend me your strength.*)
Guided by the journal, the location of Fort Falgrim's back entrance had been recorded in her mother's writings. The old Valstein fortress had once had several secret passages, one of which led out to a small path on the northern cliff side. Her mother had known about it somehow. For Lyra now, that was enough.
(*It's okay. It's okay.*)
As the fortress drew nearer, the trees grew shorter and the road turned into a narrow path carved into the rock face. The air grew heavy. Mixed with the scent of trees, a raw, animal stench like iron and beast dung drifted through.
(*From here, I won't be seen.*)
Lyra tied the horse in the shadow of a low pine tree and advanced on foot across the sloping ground.
――――
The fourth underground level of Fort Falgrim.
Past a corridor that seemed to stretch on forever, its stone walls groaning, lay a hall lit only by faint blue magical light.
An altar sat heavily in the center of the room.
And on that altar, Aiden was bound face-up.
Shackles woven from magical silver pinned both wrists and both ankles to the four corners of the altar. The light emanating from the shackles pulsed as it drained magical energy from Aiden's skin. The smell of sweat, dirt, and blood hung stagnant around him alone.
Even so, Aiden's mouth was smiling.
"Yo. You sure put me up in a room with no sense of style. Don't you know any rooms with brighter colors? At least buy some paint."
His voice sounded like his throat was tearing. Even so, he didn't let his grin falter.
Standing beside the altar, a tall man with silver hair slicked back—Morgan Valstein—looked down at Aiden with cold eyes.
"Five days now, and still your mouth hasn't dulled. —A poorly-made vessel's dog should just bark itself to sleep."
Morgan chanted a short incantation. From beneath the altar, streaks of blackish light rose up, tracing something like a candle flame above Aiden's chest.
"Guh—!"
A searing heat burned across his chest. Aiden let sticky blood drip from the corner of his mouth. Even so, his face alone kept smiling.
(*Please don't let Lyra come.*)
(*I don't want her coming here. If she ends up in a place like this—*)
When he closed his eyes, the round glasses and silver braid he'd seen in the library floated behind his eyelids. That soft, airy presence of hers, trying to hide the floating books with a dazed expression.
(*I saw her magic. Since that day, I couldn't leave her alone.*)
"Your magic core rests quietly in the place closest to our castle."
Morgan murmured.
"The vessel looks ready to break at any moment. —And yet Calis Ortum requires a magic core in perfect condition."
"Vessel, vessel—how much of a jack-of-all-trades is your brain, anyway?"
Aiden spat blood-flecked saliva.
"You've got shit taste. If you've got that much time to kill, find a better hobby."
Morgan narrowed his eyes and stared down at Aiden for a while. Then he laughed, almost theatrically quiet.
"Let me show you. What your life will become—and how much value it will hold."
The man spread both arms wide.
"And how beautifully the puny little insects who come to save you will burn, using your life as fuel."
――――
The fortress's back entrance.
Two Noxgard soldiers stood before the iron door leading underground. They wore black cloaks, short staves hanging at their waists. Their hands were clasped behind their backs, only their eyes darting around restlessly.
Holding her breath, Lyra observed from behind a rock.
One of them yawned.
Lyra gently brushed aside the sparse undergrowth at her feet with her palm. Her fingertips were numb with cold from the wind. Morning dew, just beginning to lose its frost, clung to the grass in droplets.
(*Mother wrote it like this.*)
The magic circle she'd memorized from the journal was a simple one—gathering light and releasing it at a single point—and yet it was a defensive light spell that her mother had once secretly used.
She exhaled.
She drew a small circle at her feet with a pebble. An old magic circle, her mother's.
(*I'm sorry.*)
She pressed a hand to her head. Her hands were shaking. From the magic circle, a faint pale-blue light quietly rose.
A creaking sound. The moment one of the soldiers glanced away—
Lyra forced out a beam of light toward the two men's feet.
――――
A gust of wind shot through the corridor.
One of the soldiers turned pale and shouted.
"Y-you—!"
The light swept across both men's bodies. A dull sound, like flesh being torn.
Both bodies pitched forward and collapsed onto the stone floor.
They didn't get up. They were breathing. But they didn't move.
Lyra dropped to her knees on the spot.
(*I hurt someone.*)
For the first time, she had used magic by her own will—to stop people.
Her hands were shaking. Her fingertips wouldn't cooperate. Nausea rose from the pit of her stomach, and Lyra retched quietly. Her throat made a thin, wheezing sound.
(*I hurt someone.*)
Her vision distorted, as if she were seeing from t
Novelia is an AI-powered platform to read original light novels and fan fiction, create your own in just a few taps, and chat with the characters. New, illustrated episodes arrive daily — free to start.