[serious] The foundation of elemental magic lies in interacting with the four forces around us: fire, water, wind, and earth. Keefree held a piece of white chalk, writing a string of magical symbols across the blackboard. It was an afternoon class in the Great Lecture Hall of the Starcrest. Light streamed through the windows, making the floating chalk dust glitter. About forty students sat there, all wearing pointed hats. They were still young, first- and second-years. [serious] Healing magic speaks to the life force within the body, and transmutation magic temporarily rewrites the very properties of matter. These three systems form the pointed-hat magic framework established by the Seven-Pointed Council. Keefree continued speaking without turning around. From the back seats, he could hear hushed voices. [whispers] I heard the teacher can't even use magic. [whispers] Huh? Then why is he teaching? [whispers] What can someone who can't use magic possibly teach us? Still facing the blackboard, Keefree smiled a little. Just with his mouth, awkwardly. He heard every word. But he was used to it by now. The teacher who can't use magic — out of two hundred faculty members in this Great Lecture Hall of the Starcrest, he was the only one called that. [gentle] All right, that's all for today's lesson. Anyone with questions, please stay behind. He set down the chalk. He wiped his whitened fingertips with a handkerchief. On the middle finger of his right hand, there was a small callus from years of writing. The students rose quickly, gathered their flimsy textbooks, and filed out of the classroom. A few gave Keefree a slight bow. But that was all. After the last one left, the classroom fell silent. Keefree walked over to the window. Beyond the glass, the cityscape of the royal capital, Grasfilia, stretched out before him. A city divided into radial blocks. At its center, the Starcrest Tower soared, and around it, over three hundred pointed-hat ateliers stood packed tightly together. This city revolved around magic. Only fifteen percent of the population could become magic users. But that fifteen percent moved the entire world. The average lifespan of a magic user was one hundred and twenty years. But for those like him, without magical talent, it was seventy-five. That gap sat heavy somewhere in his heart. Keefree gazed at the distant Starcrest Tower with his deep brown eyes. His short black hair was a little unkempt as usual, and only the small silver earring on his right ear reflected the light. A white shirt and black slacks. A green mantle draped over his shoulders. He looked put-together, yet somehow unreliable. That was the air about him. *(Another day done.)* He murmured in his heart. *(I can be kind to anyone. I can even put on a smile. But — no one knows the real me.)* Keefree averted his eyes from the window. His shoulders trembled, ever so faintly. Dinner was, as always, alone in the Great Lecture Hall's dining hall. The Starlight Bread, leavened with mana yeast, was fluffy and cost twenty selans apiece. Keefree tore off pieces of it as he sipped his soup. At the surrounding tables, his fellow teachers laughed together. [laughing] Man, today's practical training was rough. [laughing] You nearly set the training room on fire with fire magic, right? Easy conversation between magic users. Keefree couldn't enter that space. *(It's not like they won't talk to me.)* But he couldn't bring himself to join in. He felt like someone was looking his way. *That teacher, eating even though he can't use magic* — he felt like that's what they were thinking. *(I'm overthinking it.)* He knew that. But he couldn't stop. Keefree finished his meal quickly and returned his dishes. Night. The corridors of the Great Lecture Hall were silent. The mana lamps on the walls gave off only minimal light, and the long hallway was steeped in shadow. Only Keefree's footsteps echoed, tap, tap. He descended the stairs. Down to the basement. He knew the night watchman's patrol route by heart from years of observation. At this hour, the watchman would be patrolling the north corridor. He wouldn't come this way for another fifteen minutes. Keefree stood before the door to the third basement level. A cold iron door. The plate on the upper right was engraved: "Restricted Archive — Entry Forbidden Without Authorization from the Seven-Pointed Council." *(I've come here again.)* His hand felt for the key in his pocket. It wasn't the real one. It was a duplicate he'd secretly made a month ago. He'd exploited a gap in the management and kept a mold. If he was caught doing this, it wouldn't end with a slap on the wrist. But his feet wouldn't move away. He inserted it into the keyhole. *Click.* The heavy door opened. Inside the Restricted Archive, there was the smell of old paper and ink. The mana lamps were nearly dead, barely enough to make out the outlines of the bookshelves. Keefree headed for his target shelf. He muffled his footsteps. *(It's always this place.)* The very back row of the tall shelves. His fingers traced smoothly over the spines. The motion was already a habit. And then, they stopped on one volume. *"Seal Magic: Forbidden Art Research Records — Sealed in Year 1583 of the Seven-Pointed Calendar."* Keefree held his breath. It was a book he'd picked up many times. But every time he opened it, his heart pounded loudly. He opened the page. Ancient letters written in mana ink floated up dimly in the gloom. — *Even without innate talent, a means exists to wield the power of sorcery* — — *Inscribe magical symbols directly onto the body* — — *Materials required: permanent ink, a seal stylus, and a "giver" and a "receiver"* — Keefree quietly turned the page. There, a diagram of magical symbols was drawn. Complex circles and lines, inscribed on a person's back. A pattern that seemed to emit light. *(If only I had this.)* Something ached deep in his chest. *(I could also—)* But on the following pages, a warning was recorded. — *Year 1580, Seven-Pointed Calendar. The Crimson Seal Order. Rebellion.* — — *They abused this technique, sparking the Sorcery War.* — — *Three years of battle. Thousands dead.* — — *Year 1583. The Crimson Seal Order annihilated.* — — *The Seven-Pointed Council designates the research, use, and possession of seal magic as a forbidden art.* — — *Violators: Mana-sealing punishment, and life imprisonment.* — Keefree sat down on the cold stone floor. His fingers trembled faintly. *(If I'm caught, it's over.)* *(But—)* Keefree closed his eyes. On the back of his eyelids, today's classroom floated up. *"What can someone who can't use magic possibly teach us?"* That voice wouldn't leave his ears. *(I'm a teacher. I teach the regular curriculum, but I don't even own a staff. I've never once used magic.)* The reason he'd become a teacher despite not being able to use magic was simply because he was evaluated solely on the volume of his knowledge. He'd scored the highest on the exam. In the interview, he'd recited every past magical theory from memory. Enough to astonish the examiners. But that was all. *(I want to be needed by someone.)* He thought. *(I'm scared to show weakness. But I hate being alone.)* Keefree hugged his knees. In the dark Restricted Archive, his slender body looked small. No one knew about this place. No one knew about this book. His secrets were always solitary. — At that moment. *Creeeak.* Behind him, the door opened. Keefree sprang to his feet. He tried to shove the forbidden book back onto the shelf, but his hand slipped. His heart hammered wildly. *(I've been found out—)* He turned around, and standing there was— [gentle] I figured you'd be here. A tall young man with softly waving silver hair. His deep blue eyes shone gently even in the darkness. He wasn't angry. He wasn't even surprised. He was just smiling, calmly. [serious] ...Orugio. Keefree's voice came out strained. [gentle] You've always been like this, haven't you? Orugio walked closer. Slowly, on his long legs. [gentle] You loved hiding away and reading books. Sneaking into the library after everyone was fast asleep. He sat down naturally beside Keefree. Close. Close enough that their shoulders might touch. [whispers] ...You're not angry? [gentle] There's nothing to be angry about. Orugio shook his head. His silver hair swayed softly. He was always smiling. Kind to everyone, with a gentle voice. But Keefree knew. He knew that deep within those blue eyes lay a will stronger than anyone's. Working as a junior researcher for the Seven-Pointed Council, Orugio was also a graduate of the Great Lecture Hall. Ever since their student days, all along—. [gentle] How have you been lately? That was all he asked. And yet. [sad] ...I've always wanted to become a real magic user. The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted it. Keefree hastily covered his mouth. His deep brown eyes wavered with agitation. *(Why, now—)* His true feelings slipped out so smoothly it surprised even himself. Just having Orugio beside him loosened something that had been stretched taut. [gentle] ...I see. Orugio nodded quietly. He didn't laugh. He just looked straight at Keefree. His deep blue eyes narrowed slightly in the darkness, as if pondering something. There was a brief pause. [whispers] ...Actually. Orugio murmured. [whispers] It's not like there's no way. Keefree caught his breath. *(Huh?)* Orugio slowly raised his right hand. Pinched between his fingers was — a single, small stylus. Its tip was made from the hair of a magical beast. A mana-amplifying gem on its handle held a faint light. It was old, but you could tell at a glance it was something special. *(A seal stylus—)* Keefree's eyes were drawn to it. [whispers] You... that... [gentle] If you wish for it. Orugio smiled gently. But his eyes were serious. [gentle] I'll teach you. Gently. Magic. His voice was utterly soft. But Keefree understood. This wasn't a joke. Orugio was serious. [serious] ...Why do you have something like that? [gentle] My ancestor was a researcher of seal magic. Orugio quietly tucked the stylus back into his chest pocket. [gentle] I found it in my family's storehouse, along with an old diary. I've been wondering for a long time if I should give it to you. [serious] How long have you had it? [gentle] For a very long time. Orugio said. [gentle] I also knew you were coming to the Restricted Archive at night. Because I've been watching you, all this time. Keefree was at a loss for words. He'd been watched. His secret had been exposed. But — that fact brought him immense relief. [whispers] ...Why didn't you say anything until now? [gentle] Until I was certain that you truly wished for it. Orugio stood up. [gentle] Come on, let's go back. The patrol will be here. He offered his hand to Keefree. His long, pale fingers were illuminated by the faint light of the mana lamp. Keefree hesitated for a moment, then took that hand. Orugio's hand was warm. [whispers] ...Shall we begin our secret lessons? At the voice whispering in his ear, Keefree's heart grew loud. *(What is this feeling—)* Deep inside, a warmth spread slowly. [whispers] ...Yeah. His reply was just a single word. But that was enough. The two of them left the Restricted Archive behind. There was no one in the corridor. The mana lamps flickered faintly. Orugio walked ahead without looking back. Keefree followed his back. *(What's going to start from now on?)* He was scared. But, more than that—. *(I might be able to become a real magic user.)* That hope swelled quietly in his chest. Orugio stopped before the stairs leading to the surface. He turned around and smiled gently again. [gentle] Tomorrow night, here again. Keefree nodded. The two began walking in separate directions. Keefree