The Chair Practices Magic... Again

“Okay, you’re going to need to explain a few things,” Kumari said, staring me down in her office. Like always, her looks were a beauty to behold, if only slightly offset by her terrifying expression. “You didn’t come home last night, and then you show up in my office looking like…that! What in the world are you thinking?”

I immediately defended myself. “It’s just a merchant disguise.”

“No, you just look like a creep.” Veins popped out of Kumari’s forehead.

“Then what do you suggest?”

“Use light magic to create an illusion!” Deja vu.

“Bou suggested the same thing.”

“Bou? Isn’t he retired?” Leave it to guildmaster Kumari to know the status of adventurers.

“He’s a merchant now; has a stall in the marketplace.”

“Huh, maybe I should’ve asked him to proctor instead.”

“Hey!” Why was everyone always teasing me?

Kumari chuckled, shrugging her shoulders. “Well, if he couldn’t convince you, I probably won’t do any better. As for your exam, I don’t have any issues. It should make for a good challenge. The guild was already aware of the rainstorm, but you’re going to keep them safe, right?”

“Of course.”

Kumari’s gaze bore into me, trying to discern the truthfulness of my statement. Everything I said was accurate though. Sure, there might be some danger, but it was well within acceptable parameters! She should have a little more faith in me, but she sighed instead.

“Fine, I approve. And your adventurer’s ID?”

“Right here.” I held up my left hand in triumph, revealing the mithril plated ring on my pinky. Kumari stared at it with a dumbfounded expression.

“What is that?” she intoned, rubbing her palm against her face.

“My adventurer’s ID.”

“...and when did you get it?”

“Twelve…? Thirteen…? Something like that.”

Kumari fell back into her chair, completely exasperated. “I’m not even going to bother with your stupidity right now. Just…get out of here. There’s a waiting room, first door on the right. Stay there until someone comes for you.” She shooed me away with her hand.

I could try to argue back, but something in my gut told me to shut up, nod, and leave. Poking the hornet’s nest any further would come back to bite me more than it already had. I shuddered, imagining what she had in store tonight.

I quickly rushed into the waiting room, taking a seat on one of the couches. It was rather similar to Kumari’s office, just without her ornate desk. Sunlight lit only half of the room, creating a sort of perpetual sunset effect.

There wasn’t much to do here while I waited, so I decided to practice my mana manipulation, like I had been since…that day. I was almost always doing so, but it was normally limited to basic skills that wouldn’t disturb anyone. In here though, I didn’t have to worry about that. I just needed to make sure there wasn’t another explosion. Kumari would be pretty mad if I blew up her guild, after all.

Taking a leg out of [Pocket], I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, focusing the mana within my body and the chair.

—

Now, concentrate.

What was I trying to do?

I wanted to create a ball of water. It was simple enough; I had done so plenty of times. A thread of mana would connect the ball to my fingertips, so I could manipulate the water however I wanted. Sure, it was a bit complicated, but with… some number of years under my belt, I had plenty of experience. Plus, water couldn’t explode…probably.

Where was I going to create the water ball?

It was going to manifest above the chair leg. The origin was pretty close to my body, so it would be simple to control – not that it would make a difference even if it was further away.

How was I going to create the water ball?

The common technique was to condense the water within the air. Of course, this wouldn’t be possible in arid climates, like deserts, so I decided to be a bit more creative. My mana would spread out like tendrils, searching for nearby water sources to consume. While generally more effective, it consumed water from everywhere, including living things, so the spell was still a prototype. I shivered, remembering how that cow beast shriveled up. Luckily, there was more than enough water in the air.

When was I going to create the water ball?

I could’ve done so immediately, but I felt like going with the more traditional approach this time: saying the name of the spell. For each spell, mana users had to learn a unique method to manipulate their mana. To help with memorization, most trained their bodies to activate a specific spell when saying a short chant. Sure, it wasn’t hard to drop it and go off instinct alone, but it was an absolute pain. Did I know how? Well, when your teacher kept throwing you off a cliff until you learned, there was no choice in the matter.

—

Opening my eyes, I raised the leg into the air.

“[Water Ball].”

A ball of water appeared exactly where I specified, suspended in midair and perfectly calm. A touch of a finger sent a ripple across the surface. Seemed stable enough, so I continued.

I moved my fingers, conducting the water ball to change its shape. First, it transformed into a cube, cylinder, pyramid, and a myriad of other simple shapes. Then, I went for something more complex, like a fish or a seal. Next, I stretched the water until it was a thin film, almost invisible to the naked eye. Though, it did have the effect of making the room look as though it was underwater. After that, I compressed the water into a small marble. It was a bit heavier than expected, even preventing external mana from passing through.

While the movements looked smooth at a glance, I could feel the imperceptible lag between my thoughts and the output. I spent a while experimenting with a few techniques to reduce the differential, to barely any change, before there was a knock at the door.

With a quick tap, I dispelled the water ball, returning its contents back to the source. The door opened to reveal the receptionist I met yesterday, Iora. However, she looked a bit pale. The hems of her uniform were wrinkled, and her stockings were soaked.

“Um, did something happen?” Wait, wasn’t I supposed to have tact in this situation?

Iora immediately blushed out of embarrassment, averting her eyes. “Just an altercation between adventurers, nothing for you to worry about, proctor, sir.” Whoops. But at least it showed that my disguise was working. Hmm, you know, this gave me the perfect opportunity to practice my magic on other people!

“Stay still for a moment,” I said with a hint of giddiness, pulling out a leg and pointing it at her clothes.

“H-huh?” she stuttered, but complied nonetheless, probably because I was a high ranking adventurer. With a deep breath, I focused my mana once again.

First, I enveloped her clothes in a thin layer of water to pull out any dirt and moisture. Then, I dried them with a combination of wind and fire magic, sort of like a speedy drying rack. The water could’ve been pulled from the clothes alone, but warm ones always felt more comfortable to wear. The process only took about five seconds.

“Pretty,” she mumbled.

“There, that should be better.” Iora snapped out of her daze, checking out her newly cleaned uniform.

“Thank you very much, sir!” She bowed as I winced from her formality.

“It’s not a problem. It gave me some good practice.”

“You A-rank adventurers can really do anything, huh.”

“Ha ha. Right…” I wryly scratched my cheek. It wasn’t impossible per se, but it would probably take a century or two to master, since it used two spells at the same time.

“Well, if you would follow me, proctor, sir.”

“Of course…” I wished she would cut it out with the ‘sir’ stuff, but it wasn’t like I could say that in my position. So, I silently followed Iora back to Kumari’s office as she gave me a quick rundown of the party.

“You will be proctoring the B-rank promotion exam for the C-rank party Amstec. Currently, three of the four members are here: Rufus Varg, Aster Retsa, and Ai Kisso.”

“Three? Where’s the fourth?”

“According to the party, she is out gathering supplies.”

“Huh? That’s weird. Is she not actually a member then?”

“No, she is. I’ve confirmed their registration. She’s a supporter, so the party likely believes she didn’t need to be in attendance.” What in the world is that nonsense? Supporters were responsible for most of the everyday goings-on, meaning that they were essential to the party’s success. Were they crazy? Well, I would find out soon enough.

I could hear Kumari talking as we approached the office. Iora knocked three times.

“Come on in,” Kumari ushered.

The door opened, revealing the members of the party. Only one thought came to my mind:

Well, crap.