Author's Preface
Chapter 30 - Irony
--Two Weeks Later--
L yra, and I sat at our wooden desk in the study room while Mom put a map on the blackboard, pinning it with nails with a single push of her thumb.
Now that Reyna had successfully managed to hook us with her awe-inspiring tales regarding gods and Calamity Forces, she had begun to move to the less interesting aspects of history; the boring aspects, you might say. The exact dates in which the faraway kingdoms had been founded, the dead kings who all happened to share the same three names, and the politically strategic marriages that felt much more like awkward business deals than anything else.
Although not necessarily one of the most intriguing subjects, we actually found ourselves paying attention. With Mom’s passionate way of storytelling, her eyes sparkling when she revealed the ulterior motives behind a centuries-old treaty, we were finally beginning to make sense of it all.
"...and so, King Alden III didn't march his army into the Northern Reaches to conquer," Mom explained, her fingers tracing a map spread across the board. "He did it to secure the trade routes before the winter frost set in. It wasn't a war of hatred; it was a desperate bid to keep his people from starving."
I sat silently, and watched her cadence while I soaked in all the details. The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place. History was simply a random chronology of dates and a long string of human actions, sacrifices, and failures.
"Wait," Lyra interrupted, leaning her elbows on the desk, her golden eyes wide with sudden interest. "So who fought in the battle at the river after that? Did they use cavalry or magic?!"
Mom laughed affectionately as she explained to her everything about the troop formation in no time, while I jotted down everything on my parchment with a soft laugh at how Lyra was able to make a class on taxes talk about war.
After another hour of intense notes and Lyra's relentless questions leaning heavily toward battles, Mom finally closed her leather book with a thud.
"And that, my sweeties, is where we'll pause for today," she said with a gentle smile, dismissing us for the afternoon.
Lyra immediately stretched her arms over her head, let out a dramatic groan of relief, and darted out the door, her light footsteps fading down the hallway.
I stood up, but as I reached the threshold, I paused. My hand rested against the wooden doorframe, and I instinctively looked back into the warm, sunlit room. Mom was carefully stacking her parchments, a look of quiet fulfillment on her face.
"Mom?" I called out softly.
She looked up, her soft features instantly warming. "Yes, sweetie?"
"You're really good at this," I said with a tiny but genuine smile on my lips. "All your breaking things down into parts; it actually makes sense. In all honesty, you would be an amazing teacher. You could easily have a career outside the village if you wanted."
Mom blinked in surprise, holding a bundle of papers against her chest before a laugh escaped her. "Oh, Kyro... you flatter your mother far too much."
"I'm serious, Mom!" I stepped back into the room, leaning lightly against the edge of the desk. "Where did you even get all these books, maps, and historical records anyway?"
I was well aware of what people in the outside world thought of ‘barbarians’—brute force men and women dwelling in the wild, who had nothing else to care about except surviving. However, I existed in a world where such uneducated presumptions normally led one nowhere, and my mother was just another case in point.
Mom hummed, a nostalgic spark glinting in her eyes. "Well... Mommy used to be a scholar at Korona Academy."
My jaw nearly dropped. "Wait—really?!"
"Yes, really," she nodded, her smile turning fond. "I was actually near the top of my class. Before I graduated, the headmaster even offered me a permanent position as an Instructor."
My respect for her, already immense, shot through the roof. I walked further into the room, my eyes wide. "So all these advanced books and historical texts... they're from your time at Korona?"
"Yes, dear. I brought my collection with me when I left."
"That's amazing..." I breathed, taking it in. "Where is Korona Academy, exactly? I heard Captain Jyroh mention it was in Ganghum."
"It is," she said, leaning toward me with a conspiratorial wink. "Right in the heart of Ganghum's capital city, which shares the same name."
"Man..." I shook my head, smiling. "If you ever taught at Korona, students would probably fight each other just to get a seat in your lecture hall."
"Teaching you and Lyra is special because it's you ," she chuckled, shaking her head as she set the stacked parchments down. "I don't think I'd have half as much patience for a room full of entitled noble snobs."
"Maybe," I chuckled softly. "But did you love it, Mom? Teaching, I mean. You have a real gift for it."
"I did," she admitted quietly, stepping across the room to slide a heavy tome back onto its wooden shelf. "In fact... it was my dream to become a professor."
"A dream?"
"Mhm." She touched the back of the book with her hand while looking into the grain of the dark wood as memories rushed back through her mind. "While growing up in Zintar, I grew up in a barbarian tribe where hardly anyone could read. However, one day, a trader by mistake fell into one of the hunting traps that I had set to catch prey. As I was helping him, he gave me a primer book as a reward. Now that I think about it, he didn’t even realize that I had set that trap—he thought I was saving him!" she laughed lightly. "That's pretty funny when you look back at it."
"Oh," I murmured, leaning in, completely captivated by her story. "What happened next?"
"Well, it was just an ordinary literature book—mainly containing word pronunciations and rudimentary grammar of Fladis, Demon Continent's native language," she added, her tone getting softer. "My father had learned just a little how to read and write; he could only manage to barter for his goods at the demon outposts in Zintar, whereas my mother didn't know even one single letter of the alphabet, like most of the tribe members."
I listened intently, amazed by her sheer willpower.
"They always traded their leather hides, beast teeth, or sometimes even scorpion tails and manticore wings for things such as tools, steel, and winter clothing whenever we would travel down to the trading posts. But what did I trade? I traded my own hunting trophies for books," she explained to me.
Woah...
"There were some of the members of the tribe who ridiculed me," she confessed, and smiled a gentle but melancholy smile. "They said that I should be spending my time weaving leather and making clothes, instead of wasting my time reading about ink, since these activities were what women used to do in our tribe. But if you were tough enough, you could join the men in hunting. In our tribe, we were all tough, even the women."
She walked up to the open window and let the gentle breeze play with her hair. "I simply wanted to walk the road of my choosing. I simply wanted to show that just because one is female among a barbarian clan, it does not mean that one has to be chained to the loom for all eternity, and I wanted to show the rest of the world that barbarians were not stupid. We may have been deprived of opportunities, but not of intelligence."
Her gaze turned distant, remembering the long road. "The journey took a year and four months on foot, and during that journey, I taught myself how to speak Kladis, Light Continent's language. But every single step was worth it, and my world opened up."
"That is so cool..." I smiled brightly, genuine awe washing over me. "Now I really want to go to Korona Academy myself!"
"Hehe, I can certainly imagine you there," she giggled warmly.
Then a sudden question hit me, lingering in the back of my mind. I stood up straight, my brow furrowing slightly. "Wait... Mom, if becoming a professor was your dream... why didn't you take the headmaster's offer?"
It seemed impossible for me to comprehend this situation. Previously in my life, I would have died to have even one shot at becoming the scientist that I dreamed about. Instead of having any sort of a crack at working with organic chemistry, I found myself stuck inside a little room of mine, desperately working on translation of Japanese manga into English in order to earn some money. It seemed that a digital sweatshop job was as far from the lifestyle that I used to dream about as could be.
Reyna turned her back on the window to look at me, her face showing no remorse or sadness, but with a warm smile.
"I loved the idea of being a professor, Kyro," she explained gently, walking over to stand right in front of me. "I really did. But when I met your father... my perspective shifted. I realized that what I truly wanted wasn't a prestigious title or a life inside a grand academy library."
She reached out, her fingers gently ruffling through my white hair, her palm warm against my forehead.
"What I really wanted was happiness ," she murmured, her golden eyes locking onto mine with absolute tenderness. "And Thorskil gave me that. He gave me this home, he gave me you, and he gave me Lyra. And I don't regret a single choice I made."
Her words weighed heavy and profound, echoing in the sun-drenched warmth of the room.
I stood there, feeling her hand on top of my head, too numb to even talk for a while.
For the longest time, I judged myself solely by my accomplishments—by the milestones I managed to reach. I lived under the illusion that satisfaction was a series of boxes to check: earning a prestigious diploma, working in an organic chemistry lab, or landing a corporate job. But when I achieved only one of those goals and missed out on my dream career, I retreated to the darkness of my room. As I sat there translating manga for pocket change, I felt like a complete waste of life. I was utterly convinced that a failure to realize my ambition meant a failure to exist at all.
But seeing my mother—someone who had crossed every possible limit, someone who had pulled herself from the wasteland of Zintar to the hallowed walls of Korona Academy and then gave everything up to build a house—I finally realized my mistake.
Ambition is just a direction, and happiness is the goal.
But she did not give up on her dream from lack of strength or by making compromises. It was simply that she understood that no title in any academy can hold your hand, laugh at your jokes, or love you.
"Mom..." I spoke, resting my head a bit against her touch.
"Yes, honey?"
"I used to believe..." I hesitated for a moment, choosing my words carefully so as not to reveal the secrets of my previous life. "...that having a big title and succeeding in everything, getting to the top of the world, was the only way a person could be considered worthy, worthy of love or recognition."
I looked up, meeting her emerald eyes; the same eyes that saw through my occasional broodiness and held nothing but unconditional love.
"But hearing you talk right now... I understand," I told her, a small yet sincere smile spreading across my face. "You didn’t give up on your dream, Mom. You only made it into something greater."
I forced down the unexpected lump in my throat, my tone softening in the process.
"It means a lot to me that you decided on Dad. And... it means a lot to me that Lyra and I are going to be your happiness."
Her eyes shimmered in response to the film of tears that shone in the afternoon sunlight. Her soft smile grew even wider in the next instant, quivering just a little bit at the corners, as she pulled me into a warm hug, hugging me close to her body.
"Oh, Kyro..." she murmured softly into my snow-white hair. "You guys mean more than just a part of my happiness. You are my whole happiness."
I smiled and hugged her back.
"Thanks, Mom."
Mom...
My small fingers clenched into a fist for a moment.
If only... I had Reyna's mentality, maybe... I could've made a different choice than just rotting in my room. God, what a fucking fool I was.
And so, eventually, I gave her a small nod before stepping out into the hallway, leaving her in the study room.
***
--Later--
"Rghh!"
A few feet away, Lyra was standing stiffly on the front lawn, her right arm extended and her left arm holding the Source of Power close to her chest. Her whole face was flushed pink with the effort.
While I was doing my exercises, silently sitting on the front stairs, holding one of the Mom's potted flowers in my hands and feeling Verdant Touch pulsing gently over my fingers in a warm green pulse, plucking a violet petal from the flower and pressing it gently against the tear to heal the wound with a wash of a gentle light and watch the petal attaching to the wound.
Snap. Pluck. Heal.
I repeated this process again and again, carefully counting seconds on my mana in my mind. Verdant Touch is a sustain spell, so you can keep it active for as long as you want. To make things clear, the spell does not determine the duration, but my available mana determines the duration.
Well, I guess you're wondering, why on earth did I choose to measure my ticks this way? More precisely, why did I use light-headedness and not completely drain my mana?
I actually prefer this because it will help keep me conscious, and it is also more safe since it is better than passing out without any warning, I am able to consciously count my mana ticks. I would not have been able to do that if I had just tried to force myself to pass out, at least in my opinion, this makes the entire process very tedious.
Moreover, in another way, these ticks which I have counted don't even equal all the mana ticks I have. The fact is, since I have been stopping whenever I start feeling lightheaded, it means there are some more seconds' worth in my mana pool than what I initially counted.
And on the four-hundred-and-fiftieth second, the familiar sharp pain came in my head.
I instantly cut the flow, leaning back against the wooden porch pillar to catch my breath.
"Seven minutes... and thirty seconds," I muttered, letting out a long, satisfied exhale.
Fifteen ticks. I officially reached fifteen ticks...!
According to Source of Power , expanding my capacity to this threshold meant my core was finally dense enough to potentially support a third basic affinity. Real excitement surged through me, making the lingering dizziness vanish. I couldn't wait for my mana to recover so I could figure out what new branch of magic was waiting for me.
I wiped a thin sheen of sweat from my forehead and turned back toward the yard.
Lyra was still standing in the exact same spot, her posture trembling with pure, unfiltered rage.
"IGNITE THE SPARK, FIREBALL!" she roared, thrusting her palm violently toward the sky.
Nothing. A gentle afternoon breeze blew past her empty hand, rustling her wet hair.
"Rrrrgh!" Lyra growled fiercely, stamping so hard on the grass with her boot that it sent dirt flying onto her shins. She looked ready to rip the book to shreds with her bare hands.
I strolled up behind her, keeping a safe distance. "How's the spellcasting coming along?"
"Still nothing!" she fumed, slamming the book shut with a thud .
I couldn't help but chuckle. "Take a breath, Lyra. It takes time. I think."
She whirled around, raising an eyebrow at me with suspicion. "Are you even sure this works, pipsqueak? Or are you just making me look like an idiot?"
"Look, continuously trying to force spell incantations might help jump-start your mana veins," I said, shrugging. "It's just a theory, but hey—it's not like you've got anything better to do after sword practice and chores. Besides, I can't keep pouring my own mana into you right now while I'm testing my own limits. Just stick with it. We might see results after a few more tries."
"...I hope," I whispered.
Lyra huffed, letting the book drop unceremoniously onto the lawn. "That's bullcrap. How are you so sure a... whatever you called it... actually works?"
"A theory," I repeated, sighing. "I'm not certain. That's literally what a theory means."
Lyra stuck a finger in her ear, twisting it with an annoyed grimace. "Honestly, I don't understand half of your weird rambling."
"Just keep practicing," I muttered, rubbing my temples.
Without her pathways awake, there wasn't much else I could do for her. It was a long shot, but a test worth running.
The front door clicked open, cutting our argument short.
"Kyro?"
I turned around to see Mom stepping out onto the porch. "Yeah, Mom?"
She walked down the steps, holding out a small, tied burlap sack. "Could you run these seeds over to Miss Tisya’s farm? It’s just three houses past Captain Jyroh’s."
I took the sack, feeling the round seeds shifting inside. "Sure thing."
Mom offered a warm smile, then looked over at Lyra. "You're doing great, sweetie! Keep at it!"
"Yeah, yeah..." Lyra grumbled, picking the heavy book back up and muttering the opening incantation aloud once more.
I pushed through the metal front gate and set off down the dirt road.
***
The air that day was cool, carrying with it the aroma of wet soil and pines. As I moved past the third house on the other side of Captain Jyroh's home, my gaze fell upon a grassy hillside that rose up just beside the dirt road. Standing proudly at the top of the hill stood a huge oak tree.
That looks like a perfect spot to relax, I noted mentally, making a point to swing back after finishing my delivery.
I stopped at a low wooden gate down the lane. "Ayooh? Anyone home?"
A moment later, a woman in her early fifties stepped out from behind the farmhouse, wiping her hands on a cloth apron. Her face was lined with gentle age, breaking into a warm smile the second she saw me.
We chatted for a few minutes about the weather and Mom's garden before I handed over the sack of seeds.
"Thank you, sweet child," she said warmly. "I've got fresh bread inside if you'd like a quick bite?"
"Thanks for the offer, Miss Tisya," I laughed, scratching the back of my neck. "I've still got a few things to take care of back home, so maybe next time."
She reached over and fondly ruffled my hair. "Fair enough, little guy. Mind your step on the way back."
"Will do! Thanks, Miss Tisya!" I waved as I turned back up the road.
Finishing the task, I started walking with my hands carelessly placed at the back of my head along the crooked path leading to the grassy hill. Reaching the top of it, and standing there under the shade of the massive oak tree, I stopped.
"Woah..."
From this height, the enormity of Ytval amazed me. At a great distance from us, extending all along the horizon as though it was an enormous spine made of wood, were the high log barriers that formed the outer boundary of the territory. The farms, houses, and paths looked like a patchwork green quilt laid out under the open sky.
With a smile, I leaned against the smooth trunk of the oak tree and stretched my legs on the cool grass.
I shut my eyes, prepared to allow the wind to carry over me and relax completely, when I was jolted out of my trance by the light sound of footsteps walking on the grass.
I turned my head.
There was a little girl walking up the slope of the hill very slowly.
She was wearing a pristine white summer dress and had black hair which was neatly falling over her shoulders. But what really surprised me was her face because her eyelids were tightly shut. She had both her hands wrapped around a big leather book that she was holding tightly to her chest.
I blinked, my brain momentarily short-circuiting. "Huh?"
"You're in my spot."
I stared up at her. "...What spot?"
She extended a small and frail finger right down to the area of the grass on which I was sitting.
"That spot."
I literally just sat down," I pointed out.
She did not blink an eye. Her eyes stayed shut, her voice completely emotionless. "I've been visiting this place since spring. You are sitting on my thinking spot."
And she had said it like it was a natural rule of nature. Ridiculous, really. I wanted to protest, but seeing that unemotional, unfriendly face of hers, I immediately understood that nothing was going to come out of it.
With a loud and frustrated sigh, I moved a few inches sideways.
Without even giving me the slightest bit of gratitude or even recognizing the fact that I had moved, she quickly took my place. Her white dress touched the green grass effortlessly.
And then she just sat there, as if she was ignoring me completely.
What just happened...?
Slowly turning my head as I stared at her profile.
Who is this girl?
She stayed completely still and silent. A book rested comfortably on her lap, while her blind face pointed towards the horizon. She was being blown by the wind softly along with her dress and dark hair; yet, she did not move one single bit. She appeared less like a person and more like a lifeless statue.
Coughing lightly, I tried my best to talk to her politely. "Uh… What's your name? I don't think we have met around the village before."
The normal, polite introduction. It was an easy attempt to start a conversation, but she gave me nothing, not even a movement in response whatsoever.
I could say that I was talking to a decorative rock.
What do you do when someone doesn't even acknowledge your existence?
I shrugged as I stayed there for a moment. Feeling entirely defeated, I stood up from the grass and began walking away. Halfway down the slope of the hill, I paused, casting a final glance back up toward the oak tree. She had already opened her book, calmly flipping a page with her fingers as if I had never existed in her reality.
I shook my head in sheer bewilderment and trudged back home.
What a weird kid.
[End]