My First Magic

My eyes landed on one of the options: — Breeze —. It seemed simple enough to start with. Its description claimed it was a spell designed to create light air currents, ideal for clearing surfaces or freshening up spaces.

I stood up straight, trying to focus. According to the guide, the first step was to sense the mana particles around me, something that sounded easy in theory but required practice and sensitivity.

Closing my eyes, I tried to isolate my perception. The sound of the wind outside and the gentle chirping of birds were the only noises filling the room. I took a deep breath, seeking that state of focus mentioned in the guide. The instructions emphasized picturing mana—the fundamental energy of all magic—as tiny particles in the air, floating around me, waiting to be shaped.

At first, I felt nothing. Just the ordinary air: empty, dull, uninspiring. Frustrated, I adjusted my posture, letting my shoulders relax as I steadied my breathing.

"Come on… I can do this," I muttered to myself, spurring myself on. After a few minutes, something shifted. It wasn't a physical sensation, exactly, but more of a presence. Like a faint vibration in the air, something invisible but pulsing in sync with my breathing.

'Now, convert it to an element,' I recalled from the guide. Air was supposed to be the easiest for me, given my natural affinity for wind. I focused on channeling the mana I sensed, shaping it into gentle air currents. I imagined them swirling around me, light and soft, like a breeze.

Then, I felt it, a response. A faint current of air moved around me, so subtle it was almost imperceptible, but it was there. My eyes shot open, and a grin spread across my face. 

"It worked," I murmured, pleased with even this small bit of progress.

I tried again, this time moving my hand forward as though guiding the breeze. — "Breeze." —  The current obeyed, drifting toward the nearby furniture. A few loose sheets of paper on the desk fluttered slightly. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

"Alright, it's not a big deal, but it's something," I said aloud, energized by the experience. There was something strangely satisfying about casting magic, even something as basic as this.

I wanted to try again, to see if I could make it stronger, but the sound of the door opening broke my concentration.

"Young master," called Albert, his voice carrying a respectful firmness that immediately demanded my attention. 

He stepped into the room carrying a travel coat, meticulously folded, as if it were an extension of his own discipline. "The hour of departure is approaching. I suggest you begin preparing yourself."

I straightened my posture. There was something about Albert's presence that naturally demanded composure—not in an oppressive way, but rather as if he quietly expected the best from me. He wasn't the type to judge, but his demeanor alone inspired a sense of discipline.

"All right, Albert. I was just enjoying the view for a moment," I replied, my tone calm but tinged with a hint of casualness as I gestured toward the window. A soft, spontaneous smile crossed my face, and I noticed Albert's typically rigid expression softened briefly in response.

"The young master is right. The view truly is magnificent," he agreed with a slight nod. But then, a mischievous smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "However, I must insist you hurry. Or shall I summon the maids to assist you?"

I rolled my eyes, playing along. "That won't be necessary, I was just about to bathe anyway," I shot back, dashing toward the bathroom as I heard Albert's muffled chuckle behind me.

The en-suite bathroom was simply stunning. Polished marble floors and walls reflected the soft natural light filtering in through a tall window, and at the center of the space was an elegant, oversized bathtub surrounded by luminous stones that emitted a gentle, multicolored glow. Everything was impeccably arranged: plush towels folded to perfection and an array of aromatic oils neatly lined up on a silver tray.

'This world truly operates on another level,' I thought as I took in the sheer attention to detail. But one thing, in particular, caught my eye: the glowing stones surrounding the bathtub. Their vibrant hues shifted between warm and cool tones. Curious, I reached out to touch one of them, feeling a faint pulse of energy beneath my fingertips.

"—Appraise—," I murmured, activating the interface on my ring. A translucent display appeared, providing details about the object.

Marble Bathtub

Material: Polished enchanted marble, resistant to weathering and mana impact up to Level 2.Magical Properties: Embedded with elemental stones of earth, fire, ice, and water, along with a self-cleaning enchantment.

A quiet laugh escaped me. "Nobles really spare no expense when it comes to luxury and convenience," I remarked, pressing an ornate metal button to fill the tub. Hot water began to flow, conjured from the water stones and heated by the fire stones. Steam rose almost instantly, filling the room with a comforting warmth.

I let myself sink into the water, feeling the heat soothe my muscles. It was exactly the kind of relief I needed after everything— so many changes, so many challenges. For a moment, I allowed my thoughts to drift, carried away by the tranquil atmosphere and the steady rhythm of the warm water lapping against me.

I let myself sink deeper into the water, letting the warmth melt away the tension in my muscles. It was a much-needed reprieve after so many changes and challenges. For a brief moment, my mind wandered, untethered, allowing the steam and silence to lull me into a tranquil state.

After the bath, I dried off with a soft towel and dressed in the outfit that had been prepared for me. The ensemble was made of fine, elegant fabric—predominantly black with subtle golden accents that marked Alexander's status as a member of the Dracknum family. The fit was impeccable, exuding nobility without being overly ostentatious.

Standing before the mirror, I studied my reflection. Alexander's appearance was pristine, each detail carefully polished. I adjusted the ring on my index finger, its faint shimmer nearly invisible in the room's light. Taking a deep breath, I felt a strange mix of apprehension and resolve.

"Time to face the next challenge," I murmured to myself, turning toward the door.

As I stepped out of the bathroom, Albert was waiting just as promised. His sharp gaze scanned me from head to toe, silently assessing my appearance. The faint approval in his eyes didn't go unnoticed, though he said nothing, offering only a small nod.

"We are ready to depart, young master. The carriage awaits," he informed me, his posture as composed as ever.

I nodded, tugging lightly at the collar of my outfit. "Very well, Albert. Let's go."

As I followed Albert down the corridor toward the mansion's grand entrance, I couldn't resist one final glance back at the room I was leaving behind. It was a grand space, no doubt, but something told me that what lay ahead—beyond these walls—would be far more challenging and exhilarating.

I nodded once more, adjusting the collar again out of habit. "All right, Albert. Let's begin."

Walking through the corridor, I felt the weight of growing expectations settling on my shoulders. The Dracknum family mansion exuded an air of gravitas, its wide halls adorned with golden and black ornaments that mirrored the power and grandeur of the lineage. When we finally reached the main entrance, the scene before me was one of bustling preparation.

Outside, the estate was alive with activity. Knights tightened their armor and inspected their horses, while servants scurried about, hauling luggage and organizing the carriages that made up a small convoy. Some carriages were plain, clearly intended for transporting supplies and staff, but at the center stood the more opulent ones—crafted from polished wood, adorned with silver embellishments, and detailed in gold.

'This is truly a fleet,' I thought, my eyes scanning the scene. It was like watching a carefully orchestrated procession unfold.

But my thoughts were interrupted by an impetuous and sarcastic voice, filled with irony and disdain.

"And to think, the last one really is the last."