The Fifth Wand in the Shadows: Seven Days Will Never Knew - The Incompetent's Sword and the Gaze from the Tower Window

That's wrong, he thought. He understood it in his head. What he was called at this academy, the way people looked at him — he'd known all of that for ages. And yet, why did his chest ache so badly today? Will Serfort stood alone in the twilight courtyard, swinging his sword. The Rigarden Academy of Magic — the continent's foremost institution of magical education, towering in Astelia, capital of the Holy Kingdom of Luminastia. Founded three hundred and twenty years ago, some three thousand students in attendance. Its graduates filled key posts in every nation, and to stand at the apex of the Five Great Factions as one of the "Supreme Five Wands" meant a position after graduation was all but guaranteed. In a place like this, he swung his sword like this every single day. Even though he couldn't use magic. His one-handed sword tore through the wind. The silver blade caught the setting sun and flashed orange for a single instant. His short, curly black hair clung to his forehead with sweat, and the sleep-tousled strands at the back swayed in the breeze. His slender frame was honed by sword training; he wore the academy uniform loose, his usual one-handed sword hanging at his left hip. The cloth wrapped around the hilt had been washed and replaced countless times, and an old scar from a cut marked the back of his right hand. Swing down. Step in. Reverse the blade and slash. In this world where magical talent decided everything, someone who could do nothing but swing a sword was "incompetent." He naturally failed his practical credits. He'd scraped his way up through the years on written exams and coursework. And the students who passed him by whispered and laughed. "There he goes again, that incompetent." "He can't even use magic — what's he even trying to do?" "He should just drop out already." He heard them. But he didn't care. If he cared, his sword hand would stop. That, at least, he couldn't allow. —Become the best with a sword. Then I'll protect Elfaria. A promise made at the orphanage. That day, he'd gripped the small hand of his crybaby childhood friend and said it, sure as anything. Years had passed since. She now stood somewhere beyond any comparison to him. Even so, a promise was a promise. (This is all I have.) He poured strength into his grip. The calluses at the base of his fingers throbbed. Even that pain was proof of everything he'd built up. The setting sun dyed the academy's white towers red. The eighty-meter spire rose at the academy's center, its top floor the Holy Maiden's private chambers. As the symbol of the academy, it was a special place — where prayers were offered at the festivals. Will glanced up at the tower. He thought he saw a figure in the top-floor window. ...Just his imagination. He told himself so and swung again. The evening air was slowly growing colder. The wind brushed across his sweat-damp skin. At that moment, in the top floor of the tower. Elfaria Albis Serfort stood by the window. Her long, translucent white hair swayed softly in the wind blowing through the open window. Her ice-blue eyes were fixed on a single point — the figure of the boy swinging his sword in the courtyard below. (He's at it again.) Her lips loosened, just slightly. It was an expression no one ever saw, in a private room where no one else was present. This room was a place permitted only to her. The one space where she — revered throughout the academy as the Holy Maiden — could take off her mask. Her tower, where no one could intrude. Elfaria rested her fingers gently on the windowsill. "...Still so straightforward." She murmured it aloud, then immediately closed her mouth. Even a mutter like this — who knew what would happen if someone heard. The Holy Maiden must always be perfect. As the symbol of the academy, as the one who offered prayers to the Goddess of Light, Lumina, she could not show weakness. Below her gaze, Will brought his sword down again. (Has anything changed at the academy lately?) If she ever got the chance to speak to him, that's what she'd meant to ask. With a casual face, as a childhood friend, naturally. But she couldn't. If anyone saw the Holy Maiden chatting familiarly with an incompetent who couldn't even use magic— No. That wasn't really it. (I'm not worthy of Will.) Elfaria pressed a hand to her chest. Beneath the white robes of the Holy Maiden, her heart ached — faintly, but surely. Her secret. The thing she could never tell anyone — that she, revered as the Holy Maiden, was actually— She caught herself and shook her head. No. I mustn't think about it. Outside the window, Will was sheathing his sword. His training for the day seemed to be over. The sun had nearly set, and the courtyard was beginning to fill with indigo shadows. His figure looked so small. She could reach out, and still never touch him. Elfaria slowly closed the window. —That night. Will was behind the academy. He'd finished dinner and was on his way back to the dormitory. He'd wanted to feel the night breeze, so he'd taken a slight detour. The north side of the academy, a deserted corner. An old cobblestone path ran past an abandoned storehouse. Walking leisurely down the dark road with only moonlight to guide him, the night air felt good on his body, tired from sword practice. That was when it happened. A creak. The sound of a heavy iron door opening without a sound. No — not without a sound. The faintest groan of a hinge, starved of oil. Normally he might have missed it. But in the silence, Will's ears caught it clearly. (...What was that?) He stopped. Instinctively, he slipped into the shadows. He pressed his back against the storehouse wall and held his breath. Looking closer, a staircase leading underground gaped open in the old storehouse floor. The floorboards had been removed, a hidden door left open. Had there been an entrance to a basement in a place like that? Someone came out. A figure like a black shadow. Covered head to toe in black cloth, face and sex unknowable. The shadow glanced around briefly, then melted silently into the darkness of the night and was gone. Will couldn't move. What was that just now? His heart was pounding, loud. He should have been exhausted from sword practice, yet his body went rigid, his fingertips turning cold. And then — another one. Someone else was coming up from below. "...!" Will's breath caught. That face, lit by moonlight. Long silver-white hair. Blue eyes. The white robes of the Holy Maiden revered throughout the academy. Elfaria. Her face was pale, and she was trembling. She hugged her shoulders, shrinking into herself. Nothing like the figure who always looked down from the tower. She looked like she was afraid of something. Carried on the night wind, a voice reached him. "...the vessel of the barrier..." Elfaria's voice. But not her usual voice. Hoarse, shaking, on the verge of vanishing. "...the Holy Maiden's lie..." A cold thing ran down Will's spine. "If your true nature is exposed..." The wind shifted just as he heard that much. He couldn't catch the rest. But it was enough. Elfaria began to walk unsteadily down the night road. Toward the tower. He must have seen her back countless times, and yet she looked like a stranger. Will held his breath and stayed frozen there until she was out of sight. His sword hand was trembling. (What was that?) The vessel of the barrier. The Holy Maiden's lie. If your true nature is exposed. All of it was about Elfaria. His childhood friend, Elfaria. The magical genius, the youngest ever to become one of the Supreme Five Wands, revered as the Holy Maiden — that Elfaria. What was she doing? Who was that black shadow? Will stayed with his back against the wall, unable to move for a while. The moon slipped behind a cloud, and darkness swallowed everything around him. In the dark, only the sound of his own heartbeat seemed terribly loud. (I don't know a thing about Elfaria.) That fact pierced his chest like a sword strike. —The next morning. Rubbing his sleep-deprived eyes, Will headed for the academy cafeteria. He couldn't get last night out of his head. He'd tossed and turned, and in the end had barely slept. His eyes were heavy. His body ached. But he couldn't skip sword practice. When he entered the cafeteria, the smell of breakfast tickled his nose. Fresh-baked bread and steam from the soup. Normally his stomach would have growled first thing, but today he had no appetite. He loaded bread and soup onto a tray and looked for an empty seat. That was when the surrounding chatter reached his ears. "Hey, you hear? Lord Zeo of the Thunder Faction is apparently trying to recruit that incompetent from the courtyard into his faction." Will stopped in his tracks. "For real? Even though he can't use magic?" "That's what they say. No idea what he's thinking." "That incompetent's crazy strong with a sword, at least. Lord Zeo sure has strange tastes." Looks mixing curiosity and mockery gathered on Will from all over the cafeteria. (Me, in a faction?) Zeo Torzas Lineback, head of the Thunder Faction. Leader of one of the Five Great Factions, one of the academy's foremost powers. That man wanted him? Impossible. Someone who couldn't use magic had no right to belong to a faction. The Five Great Factions were organizations where wielders of elemental magic gathered to sharpen one another. For the Thunder Faction, meritocratic above all, even more so. Will sat down, half in disbelief. He tore off a piece of bread and put it in his mouth. It had no taste. (Must be some mistake.) He thought so. But the eyes around him clearly saw him as the subject of the rumor. "Hey, look. That's him." "Ooh, so that's the incompetent Lord Zeo set his sights on." "They say he's strong with a sword, but if he can't use magic..." The whispers pressed in on him like a wall. Will drank his soup in silence. The warm soup settled into the cold pit of his stomach. (Lord Zeo wants me? ...No way.) In the corner of his mind, last night's scene flickered. The black shadow. Elfaria's pale face. The vessel of the barrier. The Holy Maiden's lie. The hand holding his soup trembled, just slightly. (Elfaria...) Nothing happened. Maybe he should just tell himself that. But he'd seen it. Heard it. Her face then, her voice — he couldn't get them out of his head. Should he confront her? No — how? He couldn't possibly say, "I saw you coming out of a basement last night." Even if he did, it would only put her in a difficult spot. (Besides, I...) Will shoved bread into his mouth. (Maybe I don't have the right to question Elfaria about anything.) Childhood friend. Maybe he was the only one who'd thought so. She was now the Holy Maiden, one of the Supreme Five Wands — she lived in a different world from him. The cafeteria's clamor sounded distant. Will forced his breakfast down and stood. "...I'm going to swing my sword." He muttered it to no one in particular. He left the cafeteria and headed for the courtyard. The morning air was still a little cold, carrying a different scent from yesterday's dusk. (If I swing my sword, will anything change?) He didn't know. But he had no choice but to swing. He gripped his sword. The feel of the cloth wrapped around the hilt fit his hand. (I'm incompetent. A nobody who can't even use magic.) He raised the blade. (Even so — I'll become the best with a sword, and I'll keep my promise.) He brought it down. The blade tore through the morning air. The leaves of the courtyard trees swayed in the wind. A single small bird took flight, startled. Will kept swinging — again and again — until sweat beaded on his skin. A face of his childhood friend he'd never known. Unseen schemes closing in on him. His peaceful everyday life was crumbling, little by little, with a sound. That sound was still faint, and no one could hear it. But it had, without a doubt, begun.

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Episode 1

Name: The Fifth Wand in the Shadows: Seven Days Will Never Knew
Author: Novelia

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