The hopeless

What is the meaning of life?

Twilight. It was windy. Chilly. The sun, absent. Blood-bats cut through the darkness without making a sound. The stars were slowly disappearing, and the moon was vanishing, replaced by a drizzling fog.

Atop one of the beaux-arts buildings sat Noah. The ten-story building was an exhibition hall of section A.

His black eyes, stared blankly ahead; dark circles beneath them betrayed the many sleepless nights that had haunted him.

He had just left the library, where he had sought refuge from his restless mind. Now, perched on the dome for what had felt like hours, he did nothing but stare at the horizon.

He wasn't searching for anything, not answers or solace.

He simply stared at the horizon.

Then, without warning, Noah felt a shift beneath him.

His body swayed, shaking on the edge of the dome— instinctively, his hand shot out to hold one of the buttresses.

In that fleeting moment, a thought pierced through the fog of his mind.... he came to a sudden conclusion.

Did it even matter?

The question echoed within him, and as it did, something inside Noah seemed to give way.

The light in his eyes, already dim, flickered.

He loosened his grip, letting go.

The world tilted, and for a brief moment, his vision blurred, his body plunged downward like a raindrop caught in a storm.

The wind screamed in his ears, a high-pitched wail that seemed to come from the depths of his own soul.

He closed his eyes.

But then, in the heartbeat before impact, something primal surged within him—a desperate, instinctual need to survive.

Fear clawed at his chest, and his eyes flew open, wide with panic. His hands reached for the empty air, searching for something to hold on to, anything that might save him. But there was nothing.

[Initiating flight mode.] A red flash ignited in Noah's retina.

Billions of microscopic nanites surged from his skin, coalescing into sleek, black metallic wings that unfurled and beat against the air. His body stabilized, a phoenix reborn in mid-flight, and he descended gracefully to the ground, unharmed.

Dawn had broken. Light returned.

[Master Noah, are you alright?]

"Funny." Noah Exhaled. "This thing, this thing won't even let me die..."

He sighed.

Perhaps the meaning of life wasn't in the answers, but in the questions that kept him clinging to it.

***

The class began, the students were reminded of the significance of Mathematics in the field of magic.

"Maths is a must in formulation and design of new magic formulas and circles," said Professor Riya.

The relationship between Mathematics and magic meant that those who excelled in Mathematics could create innovative spells. That's the job of spellsciologist.

This year's class had the potential to produce a prodigy who could become a future Spellsciologist.

Takahasi, Emily Reed and Aurora Lewis were the golden eggs this year.

Professor Riya looked around the room.

"Hmm... Let's see," Professor Riya muttered as she checked the class with pride.

But soon, her brows furrowed as she saw a boy with pale skin and dark hair— the dark spot of the class.

"Tsk, this rascal is sleeping again," she exhaled with a hint of annoyance.

Disdain dripped from her lips.

In Riya's eyes, Noah was nothing more than a worthless and incompetent student who had no right to attend the esteemed Arcanum Blades Academy.

Unwilling to waste her precious time on a mere speck such as Noah, she hitherto chosen to ignore him.

But everything had its limit.

Riya decided to ignore him for now and deal with him later.

She cleared her throat and began to lecture the class.

"Can anyone tell me how many types of force exist in the world?" Riya asked.

Several students raised their hands eagerly.

Riya scanned the room and randomly picked a student. "You, speak."

"There are four types of force in our world: Mana, prana, aura, and aether," replied the student.

Riya gestured for him to lower his hand and continued, "Does anyone know why mana is considered superior to the others?"

The room fell silent, save for Aurora Lewis, who was quick to raise her hand.

Riya's lips curled into a smirk of approval as she nodded toward Aurora. "Aurora, enlighten us."

"While it's not clear which is more potent, mana surpasses all other forms of energy in terms of versatility. The abundance of mana in the atmosphere gives mana users a significant advantage over aura users, as aura can only be cultivated within one's body."

This one-sided view was the reason why orcs disliked humans, considering that orcs used aura instead of mana.

Riya agreed with Aurora's explanation and said, "Very well put."

"And since mana is the most versatile form of energy, it also has a wide range of uses and applications. Does anyone have an idea of what I'm referring to?" Professor Riya asked.

This time, Emily Reed raised her hand with an expectant expression.

Riya nodded at her, and Emily stood up to explain, "Miss, you're referring to the six arts of magic."

"That is correct," Riya confirmed, signaling for her to sit down.

Riya began, "There are six distinct arts of magic, which means mana can be used in six different ways. They are: Elemental Conjuring, Mana Augmentation, Spells, Man-Armis, Enhanced Perception, and Scutums."

"Miss, what is Elemental Conjuring?" someone asked from the back.

Professor Riya replied, "Elemental Conjuring involves creating objects from elements using mana. It depends on one's affinity. For instance, my affinity is water." She looked around the room and smiled slightly, adding, "Let me give you a live demonstration."

With that, she extended her right arm and clenched her fist in the air.

A chill swept through the room, cold mist gathered around her hand, causing the temperature to drop noticeably.

In a matter of moments, a sword materialized from the mist, its blade glistening, crafted of ice.

-"Whoa!"

-"This is the first time I'm seeing an elemental weapon!"

-"It's freezing!"

The students exclaimed one after another, their voices full of wonder and excitement.

For these young chicks, it was the first time in their lives that they had witnessed such an advanced form of magic, and their awe was palpable.

Their excited remarks filled the room, and Professor Riya couldn't help but feel a swell of pride as she absorbed the chorus of admiration.

But just as she was savoring the moment, someone disrupted her moment of glory.

"And Mana Augmentation is about enhancing your physical strength by channeling mana into your limbs, correct?" Takahashi's voice rang out from the back, his tone too casual, almost dismissive.

Riya's eyes snapped to him, irritation flaring.

She didn't appreciate his interruption. "Do not speak unless you're addressed, Aoi," she replied, her voice sharp.

A few students snickered at the reprimand.

"Mastering all six arts of magic isn't feasible for everyone," Riya said, her tone dismissive. "You must choose the path that aligns with your talents and affinities."

...

The class was about to end.

Riya made her way towards Noah and jerked him awake.

Noah groggily rubbed his eyes as the entire class erupted in laughter.

"Sleeping again, are we?" Riya sneered, her voice dripping with disdain. "Perhaps this lesson will demonstrate the importance of staying alert."

After a moment of pause, Riya's lips curled into a sly grin. "And if you fail to answer correctly, expect a deduction of one thousand credit points."

Noah's eyes widened in disbelief.

The prospect of losing such a substantial amount of credits over what seemed like a minor offense felt absurd.

'Is she serious? Docking a thousand credits just for dozing off? Bullshit!' he thought, anxiety creeping in.

"Tell me boy, what is a spell-function?" Riya's voice cut through the room.

Noah blinked, still half-dazed from sleep. He hesitated, his mind sluggishly grasping at concepts that felt just out of reach.

Freya Fretel rolled her eyes, her lip curling in disgust. "Pathetic," she muttered, loud enough for those around her to hear.

The idea that someone like Noah, a constant reminder of mediocrity, sat in the same class as her made her skin crawl. She'd known since preschool that Noah was nothing more than a fool.

"Bet he chokes," someone whispered.

"Today is going to be a good show, hehe," some students whispered.

'Miss Riya did him dirty. We haven't even been taught about functions yet!' some thought.

Indeed, Riya deliberately asked about a topic she hadn't covered just to embarrass Noah.

James, who was also sitting on the same bench, watched the scene. He couldn't help but sigh in his heart, silently praying for his friend.

Emily Reed glanced sideways at Noah, recognizing him from their brief, uncomfortable encounter on the first day of school when he had been staring at her chest as if he'd never seen a woman before. There were also a few bad rumors about him, which made Emily dislike him.

"What a waste of space..." she muttered, shaking her head.

Noah finally began to speak, his voice soft but monotonous. "The essence of a function," he started, "is its ability to create a connection between the input and the output values of an equation. It's like a conductor weaving a symphony, where every note, every variable, is perfectly placed to create order from chaos."

"In magic, for instance," Noah continued, "altering a variable like 't' could change the intensity of a fireball spell, while tweaking 'a' might result in a completely different magical effect."

The class began to shift, a ripple of surprise running through the room.

Noah continued his explanation.

Aurora, typically the top student in magical theory, stared at Noah, her brow furrowed. She tried to follow his line of reasoning but found herself struggling, a rare frown crossing her usually composed face.

After sometime she realised, his explanation… it was way over her head.

Professor Riya's face tightened, her eyes narrowing as Noah's words sank in. For a moment, a flicker of something—discomfort, perhaps even embarrassment—passed over her features.

"And that's about it," Noah ended his explanation. His face still blank, however he manged to look more lazy than even before.

Riya forced a nod, her tone clipped and brittle. "P-precisely..."

Without another word, she turned on her heel, her steps brisk and her posture rigid as she made her way back to the teacher's desk. "Class dismissed," she barked.