Nothing Special

Mages?

This was her chance! Or Nestor’s chance! Whatever!

Grabbing Nestor’s hand, Airi ran outside, nearly knocking the door off the hinges. A crowd of people had gathered in the streets of Star's End, clamoring excitedly, but Airi shoved her way to the front until she could see what they were staring at.

Or more accurately, who.

The taller of the two people looked the part of a mage. He was a wizened man with a long, white beard and thick glasses. But the girl was who Airi was staring at. She looked straight out of a cartoon. Her wavy seafoam-blue hair circled her head in a braided crown. Her eyes met Airi’s for a brief moment—ice-blue, stabbed with black irises like four-pointed stars.

The girl returned her attention to the old man by her side, but Airi was still focused on her. How old was she? She couldn’t be older than Airi, despite that serious look on her face. What would be the best way to befriend her? Compliment her clothes? That flowy white dress didn’t match what the villagers wore; it looked like a Greek-style chiton.

Airi was so focused, she didn’t notice Nestor tugging at her sleeve until he jabbed her in the ribs. “Watch it,” she snapped.

“I said, isn’t it so cool? They’re real mages!” Nestor’s eyes shone.

“It’s pretty cool,” Airi had to agree. “Don’t you want to go talk to them?”

“Yeah, but...” Nestor scuffed the mud with his shoe. “I’m not good at magic yet.”

Kid, if I had half your mana, I’d already be licking their boots.

Around her, the villagers seemed to have the same idea. They jostled for the mages’ attention, clamoring and cooing like hungry chickens.

“Wouldn’t you like to come over and have some tea?”

“How about some warm onion soup?”

“I just baked a pie!”

But the old man declined them all. "We are here to monitor the newly fallen star. We do not have time to waste." Book tucked under his arm, he stumped silently to the edge of the village and onto the plains, while disappointed people trailed in his wake. The seafoam-haired mage followed at a slower pace, fighting back her own onslaught of admirers.

Nestor watched the mages go, looking disappointed. “C’mon. They’re busy. Let’s go back.”

But Airi had found what she was looking for. Her eyes zeroed in on a bandage wrapped around the girl's left ankle, barely noticeable beneath her long robes.

She’s injured.

Perfect.

“Hey, Nestor.” Airi bent to Nestor’s ear. “See that bandage on that mage’s leg? Don’t you think—”

“Oh! I’ll invite her over! My mom taught me how to bandage wounds!" Nestor bolted off.

“I’m fine,” the seafoam-haired mage was saying to Nestor when Airi caught up. She wore a white paper crane earring; it flapped its tiny wings in the wind as she spoke.

She shook off Nestor's hand and saw Airi approaching. “I don’t need soup or pie or tea. Please.”

“What about a new bandage? That one looks old.”

The girl flushed slightly. “Oh, that. It’s just a sprain.” But even as she spoke, she subconsciously tucked her ankle behind her.

“Even so, do you think you should be walking all over the plains right now? Imagine it gets worse,” Airi said.

“Yeah, you should take a rest!” Nestor added.

They swept the mage away like a hostage. Airi grinned at Nestor behind the mage’s back. He smiled back cluelessly. They made a good team.

“Airi,” repeated the mage. “Is that a local name?”

“My parents wanted to be creative," Airi replied with a charming smile. “And your name?”

“Mildred.” The mage tapped her fingers on the table. Was she nervous?

Airi nudged Nestor to introduce himself. It was now or never.

“I’m Nestor and I’m six years old! I really wanna go to Magisbury to learn magic one day!”

“Six years old,” Mildred mused, smiling a little. “Do you know any spells?”

“Umm, well, we don't have a lot of spellbooks at home, so I wrote my own!”

Mildred had been nodding along, but when Nestor said the last part, her dark star-shaped irises flashed dangerously. “Your... own spell? Can I see it?”

So far, so good. Now all Mildred had to do was read the spell and see how talented Nestor was. Surely she’d take Nestor back to wherever mages lived, and Airi could come with!

Nestor pulled out his dingy book, River Runs Away. “See? I made it myself.”

Mildred took the book and flipped through it. Her brow furrowed. “A water spell. I see. Can you cast it?”

“Once upon a time, there was a little river...” Nestor summoned up the ball of water again and rotated it in the air. He bounced it to Airi, who knocked it back with her hand.

“This is nothing special.”

Nestor and Airi both looked at Mildred, startled by her flat tone.

“Any child could write this. You just happened to have a lot of mana, so the spell worked.”

“But—” Nestor’s smile was slipping.

“Not only is it highly mana-inefficient, stemming from your lack of understanding of water, but the water manipulation spell already exists,” Mildred explained in a detached voice. "The first of the three Legendary Tales, The Great Ocean. It's been around for a thousand years. This—” she flicked a hand at River Runs Away. “—is nothing new.”

She stood. “Thank you for the bandages. I’ll be going now.”

And she pushed open the front door, leaving Airi and Nestor sitting in the darkened room, stunned into silence.

Nestor was still crying when his mother returned home. Airi lay on the bed, gazing at the ceiling. It had been going well. Mildred had even smiled at Nestor! But after Nestor mentioned writing his own spell, the light in Mildred’s eyes had vanished, and with it, Airi’s chances of an exciting life.

In other words, it was over. She might as well offer to tend the sheep for Nestor’s mother.

That was how the doctor found them. “Nestor, for stars’ sake. What’s gotten into you?” She saw the spellbook in Nestor’s hands and swelled like a balloon. “Have you been practicing magic again? How many times have I told you—”

“It doesn’t matter, Mom. The mage doesn’t think I’m good enough,” Nestor sobbed, hugging River Runs Away.

The doctor looked taken aback. “Well, of course you’re not good enough! What do you want to be good at magic for?” she huffed, yanking the book out of Nestor’s hands. “Did you tend the sheep? If they get eaten by a dragon, it’ll be your fault. I’m always telling you—”

Airi pulled the blanket over her ears, but she could still hear Nestor sobbing and his mother screaming at him to shut up. Shut up, shut up, she wanted to shout back.

“You know what?” Nestor’s mother’s voice was hoarse. “Every day, I pray that you come to your senses. And every day, you disappoint me. If you’re not going to make yourself useful, then get out. Get out!”

Airi knew the words weren’t directed at her, but her blood hardened to ice. She heard Nestor suck in a sob. The front door opened and slammed.