ISMFF52

Chapter 52:

Train Journey (2)

“Alright.

Someone from the palace will be coming to oversee the Academy’s operations. Since you once rejected the position of Chief Court Mage, at least pay a proper visit when you come to the Academy. If they find out you’re holed up in some out-of-the-way workshop, they’ll flip.

Above all, they need a skilled mage for appearances. I don’t think you have the temperament to stay at the Academy, but given the urgency, what can be done?

P.S. If you don’t come immediately, I’ll blow up your workshop. Don’t even think about refusing with some ridiculous excuse—I’m twice as busy as you.

– Lindberg Casey”

Given the circumstances, what choice did Temia have? The one at a loss had to move. She didn’t want to see the cozy little nest she had managed to secure outside her home suddenly burst into ruin.

The mage who owned the workshop had suggested simply ignoring the matter, but the other two, excited by the news of going out, quickly dismissed that idea. Their memories of a previous outing—the nation’s founding festival—were pleasant, so anything was better than being stuck in the workshop. Both Leri and Temia had long since learned that any opportunity to go out was preferable.

‘Their expressions were priceless…’

The man’s face showed a mix of exasperation and embarrassment as he watched the two insist on going. Temia stifled a smile as she petted Leri, who sprawled contentedly across her lap.

“By the way, did anything happen back when you were at the Academy?”

Her sudden question carried more sharpness than she had intended. Terium Academy was a place where mages from all over the world gathered, and it was easy for superiority complexes to develop. If the man had endorsed that kind of thinking, he might have welcomed her curiosity, but that did not seem to be the case—at least not now.

Yet compared to Temia’s cautiousness, his answer was absurdly simple.

“Hmm? Not really. Nothing too major, I think…”

Temia, feeling a twinge of challenge, pressed on.

“Then why do you seem so reluctant to go to Terium Academy?”
“Me?”
“Yes. You looked a bit surprised when I suggested we go together.”

Perhaps he was simply averse to external activities. She wondered if she had pushed someone who didn’t want to go, afraid it might undo the progress in their relationship. Lowell finally spoke.

“If I go, they’ll probably corner me with meaningless chatter anyway. Look now—I’ve been called here for appearances, so I’ll probably just sit through a ton of trivial discussions with high-ranking people.”
“Still… don’t you have any good memories of the Academy? There must have been interesting encounters, with mages from all over the world.”
“Not at all. It was nothing but troublemakers multiplied.”

He finished speaking and frowned slightly. Temia almost retorted that he himself was an alumnus of Terium Academy but restrained herself.

What kind of people gathered there to be considered such troublemakers? Her curiosity only grew as she asked more questions. Yet he sighed, clearly unwilling.

“So, Temia, you just want to know how my Academy life was, right?”
“Yes. I was curious if a mage’s school would be different.”
“There’s nothing worth expecting. In short… it was an awful place.”

‘…What?’

Temia briefly wondered if she had misheard. Earlier, he had said nothing major happened during his time there. Now, it seemed evident he bore grudges against the school. Narrowing her eyes, she pressed further.

“What happened? Tell me. You’ve never spoken about your childhood before.”

His frown returned immediately, and Temia, sensing the discomfort, quickly shifted the topic.

“Well… we’re going there anyway! It might be useful to know about the school. It could be quite different from the Academy I attended in my kingdom.”
“True. I haven’t been to other schools, so I can’t really compare.”
“I just want to know about your school life. You seemed diligent, judging from how you communicate with the headmaster. You were the top disciple, right? Do you have friends… other mages you’re in contact with?”

Her last comment subtly hinted at the rebellious group of mages, though Lowell could not have known. He only stared straight ahead with a sullen expression and sighed.

“You must have been pretty bored on the train, huh? I didn’t expect you to persist so stubbornly.”
“There’s nothing else to do on the way anyway.”

Temia, growing tired of looking out the window, seized the opportunity to pry further. Perhaps she could even learn something about the mage’s network. Lowell glanced at her briefly before slowly responding.

“I never particularly wanted to enroll in Terium Academy. I figured that as a mage, I’d go eventually, but I didn’t see it as something to aspire to.”
“Ah! That makes sense. Those born with magic were likely destined to enter Terium Academy from childhood. It would be more natural than enviable.”

Temia eagerly picked up the cue, relieved. She could not imagine Lowell being desperate to enter an Academy everyone else admired.

He opened his mouth again, the faintest smile playing on his lips.

“Right. Do you know how mages are born?”
“Of course. Anyone old enough to understand language would know, wouldn’t they?”

In this world, everyone knew the basics. In the magic kingdom of Rostia, it was common knowledge. From birth, mages were different. Their innate magical power manifested as flames according to the type of magic they were born with, and these flames would burn continuously for a hundred days.

Previously, some saw this as an ill omen and opposed mages, but by now, it was merely an ancient misunderstanding.

The problem was that many children could not withstand the flames. The fire represented the accumulation of magical energy; those who could not endure it often died. Especially when ordinary humans bore a child with magical potential, the infant’s uncontrolled fire was nearly impossible to manage.

“Knowing this makes it easier to continue the story. I was an exceptionally talented mage; my flames were enormous and burned longer than most.”

Strong mages rarely survived because the intensity and duration of the flames stressed the body. A mage whose flames were strong enough to endure long periods was extremely rare.

Temia clicked her tongue, impressed.

“You need to understand the concept of humility.”
“Even if I deny it, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m a legendary mage. What difference does claiming otherwise make?”

Lowell smiled unusually broadly, shrugging his shoulders as if to say, “Why hide it?” Temia, exhausted by his arrogance, merely nodded. She knew arguing would only strengthen his pride.

“Anyway, I apparently caused quite a stir at birth. There was a mix of worry and expectation, I suppose.”
“Hmm…”

It made sense. A mage of such skill would have presented significant challenges at birth, and survival rates for magical children were low. Successfully raising such a child warranted both concern and hope for the future.

“So, once I grew a bit, I was encouraged to go straight to the Academy. They needed to manage me. I entered a bit early, I think.”
“How old were you?”
“Around nine or ten, I guess.”
“That’s quite early!”
“It wouldn’t have made much difference anyway. I could follow the classes, and I wasn’t close to my peers anyway. So apart from the headmaster, I haven’t kept in contact with anyone.”

‘No wonder I never saw anyone at the Academy! It was all because he skipped grades!’

Temia briefly lamented the wasted opportunity but realized it was too late to change the past. She bit her lip and let it go.

It was now clear: the mage had no friends. His personality made forming connections difficult.

Additionally, one fact was confirmed: the mage was single-minded. Aside from innate magical talent, he had no interest in anything else. In other words, he had no desire to lead others, displaying a destructive social disposition.

‘How did someone like that even become the leader of a rebellion? Without knowing anyone?’

Even if she voiced such thoughts, Lowell would merely shrug. Still, any normal person would know voicing this directly could be considered rude. Temia repeatedly reminded herself to stay composed.

Desperately trying to redirect the conversation, she probed elsewhere.