Asa

The dormitory corridor is quiet at twilight, lit only by thin beams of gold that slip between high windows. Arthur walks with a strange tightness in his chest, hands buried deep in his coat pockets. His steps are slow as the pain from the duel hasn’t yet to heal.

He finds Spidaract standing alone in one of the enclosed courtyards, reading an old book while eating the raw mushrooms from a nearby tree. The Arachna’s back is to him, limbs folded beneath his cloak, unmoving except when turning the pages. His body is giving off a light, pleasant scent.

Arthur clears his throat. “Hey.”

Spidaract turns slightly, enough to acknowledge him, but wait for Arthur to speak.

Arthur steps closer. “You know how to use magic, don’t you?”

A faint clink echoes from under the cloak, Spidaract nods.

“I want to ask if you can help me,” Arthur says, voice steady. “Teach me how to use magic like you did.”

A long pause stretches between them, filled only by the distant creak of trees.

“I can’t. Our magic isn’t the same,” Spidaract says slowly.

Arthur frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Arachnas and humans have different magic systems that are built in our instinct.” He says. “Me teaching you how to use magic will just waste both of our time.”

Spidaract turns his head slightly more. “If you want help…try Asa.”

Arthur blinks. “I don’t think she would help.”

“Maybe, but she is one of the most talented in humans’ magic,” Spidaract replies. “And, believe me, she is more interested than you would think.”

Then, without another word, Spidaract returns to his book.

Arthur finds Asa near the inner courtyard fountain, twirling a stick of fruit between her fingers like a wand. She looks up as he approaches, squinting playfully.

“Are you here to duel me too?” she asks, tilting her head while touching her cheek.

Arthur bows his head solemnly. “Please train me!”

Asa let out a soft laugh, gently placing a hand over her mouth, then pats the spot next to her.

“Sit, and no more miss princess.”

They move to an open patch of ground near the academy garden. She draws small circles in the dirt with her toe.

“Mana flows through your body,” she explains. “You have to push it out and cover your object with it.”

Arthur squints. “You make it sound like a liquid.”

“It is, at least in some senses,” she says brightly.

The sun climbs higher as they repeat the same breathing patterns, the same focus drills. Arthur tries to feel something beneath his skin like when comics’ characters awaken their power, but nothing happens. Sweat beads on his forehead, but Asa remains calm, guiding him again and again with easy precision.

Eventually, Asa places a smooth pebble in front of him. “I think you are ready for this baby, try doing like in the first test.”

Arthur exhales slowly, hovering his hands on the stone.

“Now close your eyes and turn to the concentrating state,” Asa says.

He closes his eyes.

He remembers the silence of failure, the sting of watching everyone else succeed. He remembers Enger’s blade, the ache in his limbs, the shame in his gut.

Nearly thirty minutes pass in tension and anticipation. No one speaks. The air seems to thicken, heavy with breath held too long. Even the faintest sounds in the area: a shifting foot, a dropped bead of sweat,... feel exaggerated, out of place.

But nothing happens.

He exhales sharply, shoulders sagging as the weight in his chest settles deeper.

““Maybe I have never been the one... I have never won any battles, or even showed a slight bit of actual talent.”

The thought comes uninvited, but persistent.

“Maybe I should…give up.”

Asa’s stomach growls a little. “Don’t…mind it, just keep focusing on the pebble, you would miss the noise when another sense disrupts your ears.”

“Yeah, I shouldn’t waste a genius’ time like this,” Arthur thinks while slowly opening his eyes.

At that moment, he sees it. A grey aura, even darker than his skin, is covering his hands. He can naturally move it by thought as if it has been a part of his body for years. Covering the stone with it is not that challenging.

The stone’s surface darkens, turning into the same color. When Arthur retreats the aura back to his body, the stone stays the same.

Arthur gasps. “I did it.”

“You did,” Asa says, leaning on her elbow. “See? All it took was just five hours.”

Arthur grins, chest rising with pride once again.

Later that afternoon, they walk into town.

“Where are we going?” Arthur asks, still inspecting his fingers as if the magic might suddenly disappear.

“A restaurant,” Asa says, casual. “My treat.”

“Why? I mean, didn’t I bother you the whole afternoon weekend?” Arthur asks.

“You helped me kill time,” she says. “And the cost of challenging with Enger is not cheap.”

Arthur opens his mouth to protest, then pauses.

They settle into a quiet corner of a noodle house. Asa orders two steaming bowls and a side of dumplings without asking what Arthur wants.

“Is this the part where she talks about her past and the reason she chose us out of everyone?” Arthur thinks.

But no, Asa just talks about mundane things: how she hates boiled cabbage in other restaurants, the time she fell off the stairs and lost three teeth, the phases of the training.

Arthur listens, then frowns slightly. “Why…did you choose us? You know, as your teammates.”

Asa sips her broth, then tilts her head. “You really want to know?”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

She sets the spoon down and looks him dead in the eye. “Because you want to become the hero and go on adventures.”

Arthur raises a brow. “Isn’t that everyone’s dreams?”

“It’s the reason why this academy was built,” Asa says. “But other students here want to make a name among nobles or impress me and Enger.”

Asa shrugs. “I think people just…give up after so many failed heroes.”

Arthur nods slowly. He’s quiet for a while because he needs time to process this new information.

“You will be the mage who brings peace back to this land.”

“Thank you,” Asa replies with mock pride.

…

Elsewhere, in a dim study lined with scrolls, Uta sits across from Carrie.

She’s listing teams, one after another.

“The group from Harrow Guild is terrifyingly good at defensive plays. The Redflame team has a fighting style that can finish opponents in a flash,…”

Uta interrupts. “None of them matter.”

“Oh right, mister ‘too shy to go gathering information’ is trying to deny an actual research. Do you know how long it takes for this!” Carrie says with a voice laced with mockery and quiet menace.

Uta leans forward. “We should be careful with the boy with silver skin.”

“I’ve heard, another idiot who got beaten down so hard by Enger that it took a week for him to recover,” Carrie says.

“Enger was serious for half of the match,” Uta says, voice calm but there is some sweating.

Carrie tilts her head. “So his skill is better than we expected, that’s it.”

“Not his skill, that’s his one flaw,” Uta says. “All other things scared Enger like a beast.”

“And skill is simple to raise,” Carrie says with a bit of panic in her voice.

“So it’s best to shut down when he’s at his most vulnerable.”