Even though he gained a slight doubt over his own humanity, today Cyril went to his lessons like usual.
He was still a student after all.
The first lesson of the day was Spellmaking, where they were practicing out on the field again.
This lesson’s task was to successfully alter a magic circle.
Under the professor’s eyes, Cyril calmly cast a fireball spell.
After six seconds the circle collapsed in on itself, forming a pure white dot.
It launched straight into the sky and exploded like miniature fireworks.
A few students blankly observed the attempt, weakly marveling at the fire, then returned to their own spells.
Thorne’s talent in magic was already familiar to them.
They would’ve been more surprised if he failed today.
And there was no red butterfly cheering for him today.
Morpho was too busy catching up on sleep.
The lackluster reception caused Rhamn to fume a lot in his ear.
Though Cyril ignored it.
“Very good.
Your understanding of Spellmaking is already approaching the expected year-end standards.” Their professor, Richard, nodded in satisfaction and soon turned his attention to other students.
The others struggled to change the spell’s course, much less make a show out of it.
Cyril’s progress was undoubtedly monstrous in comparison.
Taking a brief look around, Cyril walked back towards the group he was familiar with.
Myra was standing there, softly biting her lip as she focused all her energy on constructing a magic circle.
Rose observed by her side with a professor’s demeanor.
In a few more moments, the spell was done, and a fireball flew out.
It barely wiggled in the air before destabilizing and disappearing into nothingness.
Myra stomped in frustration.
“Damn it!
Why the hell is it not doing what I want?!” she exclaimed, causing a few students to glance at her in confusion.
“There was a duplicate pattern in your circle,” Rose calmly explained.
“Don’t worry.
Just practice more, and you’ll do better.”
“‘…Just practice,’ right,” Myra replied, her voice a mix of frustration and disappointment.
Rose nodded with a satisfied smile.
Cyril stared at them with some confusion hidden in his blue eyes.
Myra was usually competent, and he did see her confidently cast a fireball before.
Surely she shouldn’t struggle so much with only altering it a little?
“Just memorizing magic is different from understanding it.
It seems your Myra is mentally impaired.”
That’s rude.
Cyril walked towards the two girls, subtly glancing at Rhamn in complaint on the way.
Noticing his approach, Myra’s cheeks flushed a subtle shade of red.
“Creating spells or changing them is just not my thing!” she immediately said.
“That’s for bookworms, and I am a warrior!”
In his eyes, her face appeared just like that of an adult unable to solve a children’s puzzle.
“…See?”
…
He expected the revelation about himself to change everything, but it really didn’t.
His classmates still sent him wary stares, Myra still behaved overly clingy, Rose was still teaching her, and Rhamn still hated Cedric.
Still, not everything remained as it was before.
Cyril observed his classmates casting spells and found them particularly energetic today.
Few people succeeded in today’s lesson.
All who did turned their noses just a bit higher.
And their smug demeanor only fanned the flames for the others.
The students earnestly practiced until they had no strength left, which created a somewhat competitive atmosphere in the air.
One of the students, Leo, cast a fireball that made a loop in the air before striking the ground.
Immediately after his attempt, he stared in Myra’s direction with a strong, gloating look in his eyes.
He didn’t skip lessons today.
Healing a broken arm was nothing nowadays.
Magic was truly convenient.
“What’s up with him?” Myra crossed her arms, her face dark.
“If he is so tough, maybe I should duel him next time…”
She was yet to properly succeed.
Rose helplessly shook her head.
“Keep practicing.
I’ll try casting myself now.”
Having tutored Myra enough, she began her own attempt.
After finding a pleasant spot on the field, she stretched her arm forward.
In front of her open palm grew a complicated magic circle.
However, this one’s pattern appeared different from what the others were using.
Professor Richard immediately stepped forward with a slight frown on his face, but in a moment he breathed a sigh of relief.
Rose’s circle collapsed in on itself, forming a ball of lightning.
The lightning swirled in her hand, making quiet crackling sounds.
As it was no common fireball, her actions gathered a bit of attention.
The smugness on Leo’s face quickly disappeared.
Clicking his tongue, he quickly turned away, acting uncaring.
Rose didn’t notice any of the stares around her, instead placing all her focus on the spell.
She flicked her hand, and the ball of lightning moved.
It transformed, shaping into a vague short sword.
Rose clumsily slashed a few times in the air with it.
The lightning made a threatening crack with each swing.
The students around stared with fascination, like kids watching a theater performance.
It seemed this was a better show to them than some fireworks.
After a few more moments of showcasing her inexperience with swords, Rose dissipated the spell.
Only then did she notice the awed stares she was getting from the other students.
“Alright, that’s enough of a show.
Get back to your own spells,” Professor Richard finally called out to the students, taking their attention away.
At first alarmed, Rose quickly grew calm and seemingly uncaring as she walked towards Myra with steady footsteps.
“It was a normal lightning ball spell.
I configured it with a behavior to change into a melee weapon on command.
I was lucky it worked,” she said, barely containing a smile on her face.
“Impressive…” Myra mumbled in thought.
Cyril only silently nodded in agreement.
Rose’s smile widened further.
As much as she tried to appear humble, her eyes completely betrayed her.
Cyril knew she was heavily invested in magic, and he frequently saw her practicing spells out in the field, even during the weekend.
Out of all the students he saw, she was the most obsessed with being a mage.
So her results were inevitable and well-deserved, no doubt.
“Tch!
What a show-off!” Rhamn glared at Rose with contempt.
“She just had to use a different spell!”
It seemed she did not agree with the assessment.
…Are you jealous she got everyone’s attention?
Rhamn flinched but kept her stance unchanged.
“Huh?!
And would a god be jealous of a mortal?
Don’t be ridiculous.”
You are a god now?
“Just for comparison’s sake.”
…
The rest of the day went by quickly.
Though Cyril suddenly found himself incapable of fully focusing on the lessons.
His mind was occupied by something unrelated to study.
As much as he wanted for things to continue as they were, a certain sense of foreboding gnawed at him every second.
The weekend is right around the corner.
Nothing will happen before that.
“Obviously.
Why would anything happen?”
Amidst his own thoughts, Cyril reached his dorm, the lessons of the day over.
He took a deep breath and opened the door of his dorm room.
The first thing that greeted Cyril was the flutter of a butterfly’s wings.
Morpho was up and about, energetically greeting him.
“I am back,” Cyril said the novel words with a completely flat face.
Still, the cheerful insect could tell his sincerity.
She quickly circled around him before agilely landing on his shoulder.
Feeling somewhat lighter now, Cyril stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
He looked towards the bed, where the shopping bags still haphazardly lay about.
Later…
Cyril ignored them and took a seat by the desk.
He sat still, unsure of what to do at the moment.
When he absentmindedly looked down, he noticed the book on spellmaking lying on the desk, open to its first pages.
Morpho twitched her antennae with lingering fears.
“I saw you casting that spell, Morpho!
You are really talented, you know that?
Must have inherited it from Cyril!”
The red butterfly raised her head a little higher, her antennae humbly twitching.
Cyril thoughtfully stared at the book, today’s lesson flashing in his mind.
He was indeed somewhat talented.
Magic came naturally to him, almost like an instinct.
When he thought about how he wanted the spell to behave, the way to do so just manifested itself in his mind.
Not to mention he had another mind to help when needed.
If he wanted to, he could’ve learned plenty of other spells by now, including the lightning Rose used today.
There was but one thing that now concerned him more than it did before.
…Casting spells is unpleasant.
Today, Myra practiced her fireball until complete exhaustion.
She only stopped when her face became pale and breathing labored, unable to garner even a drop of magic.
The results notwithstanding, her determination was undeniable.
Not only her, but many of his classmates practiced until they had no mana left at all.
There was even a group around Cedric who cast in unison, like some friendly unit.
Class I was particularly energetic today, everyone worked as hard as they could.
Everyone but him.
He never once tried exhausting all of his mana, and he didn’t want to try it.
Observing them do so was even disturbing in a way.
How could they do that so easily?
Was their will just that much stronger than his?
No.
That can’t be.
With what he knew about himself now, he started to suspect there could be another, less human, explanation.
Cyril slowly glanced at Rhamn sitting on his bed.
She looked away from his gaze.
Rhamn’s red eyes guiltily wandered around the room as she whistled a tune.
Seeing her like this, his premonition worsened.
“I’m sorry for not telling you right away!” She quickly bowed in apology.
“I wanted to wait until you were more… relaxed.”
“You see, there’s this one small little price we have to pay for being so great.”
How could it be otherwise…
“So!
I am your heart.
Just like a normal heart, my beat fills your body with life force…”
Uh huh.
“The difference is I don’t need to actually ‘beat.’ I am only pretending.”
“The truth is while the primitive human hearts use the whole blood flow and breathing thing, I elegantly use mana to achieve my purpose.
But the principle is similar.”
Her voice grew quieter until it turned into a cautious whisper.
“And… you know… humans don’t do very well if they are not breathing, right?”
‘…Don’t do very well?’
Cyril sat up straight, staring at her with a frown.
You want to say that if I run out of mana, I will die?
Rhamn awkwardly tapped her fingers together, her red eyes staring at the floor.
“Yeah…”
Cyril tiredly massaged his temples.
No wonder I feel so reluctant to cast spells.
There was indeed nothing without a price in life.
“Just for the record!” Rhamn moved to sitting on top of the table in front of him.
“We were like this from the beginning.
Eating the stone just made me notice it.”
“It’s a negligible amount compared to our reserves.
Our regeneration rate far exceeds it.
It’s basically nonexistent!
You didn’t even notice!” she said with a stiff smile.
Cyril stood up from the chair, showing her his back.
You should’ve told me earlier.
“Sorry!”
What else have you conveniently neglected to mention?
“…Well, there is this one thing.”
There is?!
There actually was something more?!
“It’s nothing big!
Rhamn is not my full name.
It’s actually Rhamnousia.”
She awkwardly walked into his field of vision, still avoiding his gaze.
“I just don’t like it that much.
It’s a bit of a mouthful, so I shortened it.”
“There!” She raised her arms in surrender, sheepishly giving a smile.
“Now I have no secrets!”
…Why would you give yourself a name you don’t like?
“I didn’t give it to myself.”
“…”
What?
Cyril gave her a blank stare.
Did someone else give it to you?
Rhamn shrugged with a helpless face.
“I just knew it was my name from the start.
That’s it.”
Cyril let out a tired sigh as he massaged his temples.
He felt a headache coming in.
The butterfly on his shoulder gently tapped him, sharing her energy.
“Thank you, Morpho.”
The red butterfly happily nodded, having stayed in silence for this conversation.
It was always awkward for the child when the parents argued.
Cyril stood still for a second, thinking about what to do.
Whatever.
Let’s start one matter at a time.
So you consume mana.
That sounds like a clue.
Let’s go to the library.
…
Monsters were any creatures affected by mana, their abilities far surpassing those of a common animal.
In the Empire, the term also applied to any humanoids besides humans.
The library should have books about them.
“I don’t think you’ll find anything.
We are too special to be recorded in some dusty old book.” Rhamn walked by his side, her head already raised high.
You are not even denying not being human?
“What’s so good about being human?
We are we, and that’s so much better.”
“Ugh.”
Cyril only gave a tired sigh in response.
And he thought he would not feel this tired about Rhamn’s presence again.
He walked through the academy grounds, heading towards the library.
Morpho tagged along with him on his shoulder.
However, before he could successfully arrive at his target, he encountered a familiar face.
It was a haughty-looking student with short blond hair, Leo Arken.
“Thorne…!” Leo exclaimed, standing right in Cyril’s path.
He reflexively touched his arm, a frown briefly appearing on his face.
It appeared he was just leaving the castle.
Cyril glanced at him once, then moved to get past him.
He didn’t care for him now.
“Hey, wait!”
Leo, however, quickly stepped to the side, blocking Cyril’s path.
“What is it?” Cyril flatly asked.
Morpho threateningly twitched her antennae, her body appearing ready to fly out at any moment.
Leo glanced at the butterfly on his shoulder and took a subtle breath.
A stiff smile soon appeared on his face.
“Let me properly apologize for harming your pet.
That was unbecoming of me as a noble, and I-”
“Morpho is not a pet.”
“…Of course!” Leo’s stiff smile twitched.
“Forgive me, today’s lesson left me exhausted.
Thorne, I am speaking right now out of good intention for the future of the Empire.”
Leo straightened his uniform, his voice growing more steady.
“We are both people with important roles.
A fight between us would only make the common people suffer.
Perhaps not for my sake, but for the sake of our shared homeland, we should put aside our differences and learn to work together.
What say you?
Shall we start over?
As friends this time.”
Leo stretched his hand forward, asking for a handshake.
Cyril only stared at him in silence, confused.
…What’s up with him?
He was getting some mixed messages right now.
Despite the polite words, Leo’s eyes hid obvious reluctance, as if he put his hand into an animal cage.
“Do you think he practiced those words in the mirror?
I think he did.
Anyways, tell this loser to get lost.
The Empire can burn for all we care.”
Don’t put words in my mouth.
If the Empire burns, we’ll burn with it.
“Not really.”
Quiet.
Cyril decided to think about the offer for a little bit more.
How could he have no feelings towards his own homeland?
He might’ve been a flesh-morphing monster pretending to be human, but that didn’t mean he had to be a monster at heart as well.
“…”
“Hehe, funny.
I get it.”
Shut up.