X: Puella Magica Evangeline Dioli

“Okay, young student, do you see what is on the board behind me right now?” Evangeline asked, making use of some kind of mock ‘teacher’ voice.

As directed, I turned my attention behind the pink-haired menace who had attacked me no less than ten minutes prior. “First, I’m pretty sure we’re the same age. Second, yes, I see it.”

“Caaaaan you tell me what it is?”

On the whiteboard, a circle decorated with many intersecting lines and intricately designed sigils was expertly constructed in black marker. Of course, I recognized it immediately. A first grader would have recognized it. The fact that she had even asked was insulting.

“It’s a magic circle,” I replied, flatly.

“Yayyyy!” she celebrated. “You got it right!”

“Are you trying to infantilize me or something?”

“Not at all! I live and die by the crawl, walk, and run method. And that, my friend, is what we will be doing here today.”

I sighed and threw my hands up in resignation at whatever inanity Evangeline was thinking.

“As you identified, this is a magic circle. We use these to summon spells. This particular circle is for a simple water pistol spell. I’m sure you’ve seen kids play around with this spell quite often during the Summer.”

“Yes, I know all of this.”

Below the circle was a series of blank lines resembling those found in a game of hangman. She hovered the tip of the marker above one of the empty spaces and asked, “but do you know what the spell is called?”

“Morning Dew,” I answered, resting my cheek in my palm.

“Correct!” She filled in the spaces with the spell’s name.

“Evangeline—”

“Call me Eva!”

“Okay, Eva. This is stupid,” I groaned.

“Actually, according to your magic grades, you’re stupid.”

I found myself recoiling a bit at her venomous response.

“Shin, let me clarify. I know you’re not stupid, the fact that you got into St. Cirelia at all is evidence of that. But your magic scores don’t reflect that,” she said, her tone serious and calm in a way I hadn’t heard from her yet. “I don’t know why your scores are so low, but I believe anyone can learn anything. All that’s needed is the right teacher and patience.”

For some reason, I felt a pang of embarrassment that compelled me to look away from her.

“So, please bear with me,” she pleaded, gently. “I’m not trying to patronize you, I promise. I just want to help you, okay?”

I nodded in response but remained silent.

“Now, then,” she said, continuing her lecture. “I will go over the steps for how to properly cast a magic spell!”

One by one, she explained the process for casting magic. First, she had said, one must decide on the kind of spell they want to use. Every spell has its own name and associated magic circle.

“Beginner level spell casters typically must draw the circle and look at it while shouting the spell name. I’m sure you did that back in first grade,” she remarked.

It was true. Recesses as a kid were often filled with the sounds of children shouting out spells as fiercely as their little lungs could in a fashion not unlike that of a cartoon character. The recollection of those days bordered on nostalgic. Nonetheless, Eva continued.

“But that’s clumsy and inefficient, of course. In combat, shouting the spell you plan to cast against an opponent is pretty stupid, no? Even in everyday use examples, it would be pretty annoying to hear, say, window washers screaming their cleaning spells if you ask me,” she snickered. “That’s why there’s a better way to do this!”

If one memorizes the name and design of a spell and its associated magic circle, then it can be cast quietly through mentally visualizing them simultaneously, she explained.

“There’s still one more thing you need to do, though!” she cautioned. “You have to channel your inner magic energy at the same time. Think of yourself as a conductor leading the band. Your energy is your baton, the spell is the sound you want to bring forth, and the place you direct your energy is the instrument you signal to in order to make it happen.”

Forming a pistol with her index finger and thumb, she pointed her hand at me and fired a thin stream of water directly into my face. My eyes reflexively shut tight as my now dripping forelock drooped in front of my face. She giggled at the sight but cleared her throat and hushed quickly when she caught a glimpse of my glare.

“That, Shin, is how you cast Morning Dew the proper way!” she declared, proudly. “Now, I know you’re mad, but that’s the point. Here’s your chance for payback. Douse me!”

With a sigh, I raised my hand in the same formation that she demonstrated and centered her face in the crosshairs of my mock water pistol. In my mind’s eye, I called the name “Morning Dew” and envisioned the magic circle that I’d had seared into my mind since I was a child. From the tip of my finger, a single droplet of water dripped out and hit the floor unceremoniously.

Bang.

Silence.

…

“What the hell was that?” she asked, her voice deadpan.

“Morning Dew?” I replied.

“Okay, like…certain things are starting to make sense now…”

“It’s always been this way, okay?” I said, tapping my finger on the desk. “I can’t seem to cast a spell further than the length of my fingers and I have a hard time concentrating on the spell names and the magic circles.”

“Do you also have trouble chewing gum and walking without biting your tongue…?”

“Eva!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! My brain said ‘don’t!’ but my mouth…” She shook her head, returning to composure. “Anyway! This is bad, just awful. You’ll never survive the gauntlet like this, they’ll kill you out there.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

She paused and brought a curled index finger to her lips. Her blue eyes shut in thought for a moment before they opened and reconnected with my gaze. “Okay, let’s call it a day for now. Again, don’t worry about your detention. I’ll get it all sorted out for you. Tomorrow, I want you to meet me on the field behind school after classes end. Don’t be late!”

With that, she dashed out of the room. The quiet that befell the detention hall made it seem as if Evangeline Dioli had never even existed at all. The only proof that she had ever crossed the threshold in the first place was my dripping forelock and empty pudding cup. Oh, and the boot mark on my cheek.

That girl is a force of nature.

I remained seated for a bit, reflecting on the events of the morning. I had punched a bully out cold, gotten myself banished to detention, had my ass kicked, and flunked an elementary level magic lesson—all before noon. To say that the morning had been eventful would have been the understatement of the century. I wished that I was still in bed and waiting for the past few hours of my life to be nothing more than a pudding deprived fever dream, but there was no chance of that. Lady luck and I were never on speaking terms.

Forcing myself from the chair, I stood up and pulled open the door to find a wide-eyed Mizuki. Her hand was raised slightly as if she had intended to open the door herself before I beat her to it.

“Oh, Mizuki. What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Class just ended. The principal came storming down the hall all of a sudden and yelled at that idiot teacher. She told me to go tell you that you were free to leave detention and said he was incompetent. It was bizarre, but I’m just glad they aren’t punishing you for what happened.”

Whoa… could that have been the work of Evangeline? Damn, she works fast! On top of that, the school principal is at her behest?! What a terrifying girl…

“Are you okay?” Mizuki asked, snapping me out of my thoughts. “What is that on your cheek?”

“It’s a boot mark.”

“A what?!” she asked, running a concerned hand over my stained face. “What happened to you!?”

“I’ll explain tomorrow, because, honestly, I have no idea.”

“What does that mean?”

“Meet me on the field behind school tomorrow after classes end for the day. I guess we’ll find out the answer to your question together.”