Chapter 2
'The Enigmatic Mage'
Ian had been sitting in his study for days, lost in thought.
On the desk lay an open book left by a man named Mist.
After the sudden visitor vanished without a trace, Ian had tasked Wilson with locating the mage.
Yet there were no results.
Despite spending their limited funds to post notices at adventurer guilds, no news had arrived.
Ian's gaze returned to the book.
'This is just an ordinary book.'
He had just finished his third thorough reading. Ian had examined it meticulously without causing damage.
'Nothing special. It holds value as an antique, but contains no extraordinary magic. Libraries are full of such books.'
The only thing left was to reinforce the faint preservation magic lingering on it.
'Why did Mr. Mist visit me?'
He now doubted it had been a simple antique appraisal request.
Above all, the man's final words haunted him.
'Was that the answer?'
It had been a response to Ian declaring he would handle his own affairs. Ian absently twirled the black raven feather he'd found outside the mansion that day.
'His tone almost suggested I should enroll at the Academy. Or was it mere envy from a wandering mage?'
His thoughts stretched endlessly.
As Ian contemplated a fourth reading, a sound came from beyond the door.
Knock knock!
"Young Master! I'm coming in!"
The study door burst open with a lively voice.
A cute apron-clad girl entered carrying a tray—Dorothy, Wilson's adopted daughter and maid of House Oracle—her ever-cheerful smile radiating confidence.
"Were you studying?"
"Just thinking. What's that in your hands?"
"Tea for you, Young Master! And cookies I baked—it's been ages!"
"Cookies?"
"They’re perfect for lifting your mood, aren’t they?"
As Dorothy strode forward, her foot caught on a book lying on the floor.
"Huh?"
The impact traveled through a vertical stack of books nearby, sending the precarious tower swaying violently.
"W-wait?!"
Crash!
The book pile collapsed instantly.
"Aaaaah!"
Dorothy instinctively clutched the tray to her chest—this loyal maid prioritized her master's snacks over her own safety.
Of course, the books never struck her. Ian had already extended his hand, channeling mana—not full magic, but simple energy manipulation.
"Dorothy. Are you alright?"
A wave of his hand scattered the books aside. Dorothy, on the verge of tears, suddenly scowled.
"Please just shelve books properly!"
Ian flinched.
A recent scolding echoed in his mind:
"How many times must I say it? Stack them right if you're stacking! Vertical lines are dangerous! Are you playing book Jenga? What strange tastes! Is this how all mages are?"
"Sorry. I forgot to organize them."
"You’re such a handful, Young Master!"
Ian bowed his head too readily.
"Sorry for being troublesome."
"Ugh! If you apologize so easily... Never mind! I can’t deal with this!"
Dorothy huffed as she slammed the tray onto the desk, irritably setting out teacups.
An outsider would gasp—Ian was nobility, Dorothy a mere maid.
But Ian saw her as family. Having lost his parents young, they’d grown up together. Dorothy felt the same.
"Are you hurt anywhere?"
"My pride’s a bit bruised, but what’s done is done. Why not try time reversal magic? If you can."
"Hmm."
Even someone as composed as Ian struggled with the now-grown Dorothy.
It must be what having a younger sister felt like.
"Try these cookies now."
"I will."
Ian picked up a cookie.
Sweet, nutty flavors bloomed in his mouth.
"Delicious."
"......"
"What?"
"That’s all?"
"Extremely delicious. Truly. The best I’ve ever tasted."
"Sigh... Being a maid isn’t easy."
Ian nearly retorted that the opposite was true.
"Why the mood boosters?"
"You’ve seemed troubled lately. I begged Father for ingredients."
"You didn’t need to."
House Oracle was a baronetcy without lands—their finances scarcely allowed for tea as luxury.
"You’ve been unusually worried these days—unlike your usual carefree self."
"Wasn’t that remark too biting?"
"Oh my! Did I say that?"
Dorothy grinned, impossible to dislike.
'Well... It’s true.'
Since Mist’s visit, Ian’s life had lost its calm flow. The notion of a "last chance" gnawed at him.
"Actually... There’s something bothering me."
"Is it about that book?"
"Book?"
Dorothy pointed to Mist’s volume on the desk.
"Not exactly... Though not entirely unrelated."
"How curious."
"What is?"
"This is the first time I’ve seen you ponder one book for days. You usually devour multiple daily—being so brilliant."
She knew her master was a genius.
Ian smiled.
"It’s just an old, ordinary book. Something else weighs on me."
"Tell me. I can’t solve it, but I’ll listen."
"The Academy."
"Ah."
Dorothy’s soft gasp acknowledged the gravity.
"Our visitor said he regretted never enrolling—lacked the chance himself."
"The Royal Academy is everyone’s dream. That makes sense."
"You too?"
"Of course!"
Dorothy nodded vigorously (though people interested her more than studies).
"But perhaps it’s simpler than you think."
"Simpler how?"
"Remember childhood? Father mentioned you always wanted to attend since youth."
"Wilson said that?"
"Oops... Was that a secret?"
"Not exactly..."
Forgotten memories surfaced—innocent days dreaming of enrollment while hearing about his parents’ Academy years.
"Most importantly... Had Lord and Lady returned safely, would this dilemma even exist?"
"Perhaps."
"I don’t grasp why the Academy troubles you... But you’d excel anywhere."
Ian smiled but knew the truth—his mana was insufficient for Academy rigor.
Nor would he choose the "Natural Sciences" department, abandoning House Oracle’s legacy of theoretical magic.
"The real reason is different..."
Dorothy’s tone turned uncharacteristically solemn. Ian listened intently.
"If Lord and Lady return someday... Wouldn’t they rejoice to see you in Academy robes? I believe they’ll return!"
Warmth flooded Ian’s heart.
Some had urged him to abandon hope; others offered prayers.
But Ian had never relinquished it—nor had Dorothy.
"Thank you, Dorothy."
"Was I overstepping?"
"Never."
It felt like fog lifting.
Answers had come from unexpected places—proof that wisdom and knowledge didn’t correlate. In this moment, Dorothy seemed far wiser.
Ian felt shame.
'I was too fearful to even try.'
Closing the ancient text, he shelved it properly.
"Also... This may sound unrelated, but Young Master is the kingdom’s most handsome man! Handsome people succeed at everything!"
A deliberate shift to lightness after seriousness.
"That sounds more like teasing."
"You don’t realize your looks because you’ve no friends! Not one!"
"No need to emphasize that..."
Ian rarely ventured out—always buried in books at home despite opportunities.
His clear complexion and striking features, inherited from his mother, had drawn much attention in youth.
Now mere memories.
"Why not visit salons and dance? Might give you new worries! I’ll teach you!"
"I detest noise."
"You’re an adult now! The Oracle line can’t end with you! Ah! Unless... Your grand scheme is seducing princesses at the Academy?!"
"Hahaha!"
Ian withdrew pen and paper. Sitting, he commanded:
"Summon Wilson immediately."
"Father?! You’re not punishing me?!"
"My dilemma is resolved."
"Truly?!"
Beaming, Dorothy dashed out.
For House Oracle, winter’s long night finally gave way to spring.
At dawn’s first light seeping through curtains,
Ian rose from bed, channeling mana.
Hum.
His hands traced elegant arcs. As sigils formed, bright light coalesced at his fingertips:
『Light』
Yet the magic fizzled.
Despite relentless study and practice, his mana remained unchanged since birth.
'Must progress step by step, then?'
He’d learned that great mages needed more than raw power—yet sometimes craved it.
A sound interrupted the silence.
"Young Master. Pardon the intrusion."
The door opened.
Dorothy entered, vibrant as ever, then froze seeing Ian awake.
"Ah! Awake already? So early! I thought you’d be asleep!"
"Didn’t sleep. Not a wink."
"At all?! Are you unwell?!"
Ian smiled, shaking his head.
"Don’t tell Wilson. No need to worry him."
"But today’s important!"
"It is."
Days prior, Ian had decided to enroll in the Royal Academy.
Today was departure.
As he rose, Dorothy swiftly prepared wash water.
"Important days demand normalcy."
"It still feels lonely."
"Not relieved? No more book towers for now."
"N-no way!"
Chuckling, Ian dipped his hands.
The water was perfectly warm—Dorothy’s intuition eliminating his need to adjust it with magic.
"Here, Young Master."
Towel in hand, Ian dried his face and hair, then faced the mirror.
A handsome youth stared back.
Dorothy brightened beside him.
"So dashing! At the Academy, your popularity will explode! Just imagining it thrills me!"
"Why does your mind always wander there?"
"People attend the Academy for more than studies! Everyone has dreams!"
The Royal Academy gathered exceptional talents—not just scholars, but nobles and royalty. A political arena in itself.
'Children emulate their parents.'
As Dorothy said, youths would gather with varied ambitions.
'It won’t be easy. But I’ll succeed. For our house’s honor.'
