“I’ll have you duel. However, since this is just a lighthearted game to ease the tension of the first class, we’ll follow special rules.”
Professor Teleman picked up a quill.
“Each duelist will hold a quill in their hand. The only magic allowed is Bore and Gade. Just those two. You cannot add any grammatical elements.”
They were the shared magical words for steal and protect.
“If you successfully protect your own quill while stealing your opponent’s, you win. If both manage to steal at the same time or both successfully protect their own, it’s a draw. If one is slightly faster than the other… well, we’ll make a fair judgment. As I said, this is just a lighthearted game.”
The professor looked around at the twenty or so students.
“A single match wouldn’t be much, so let’s make it a best-of-three. Any questions or objections?”
No one raised a hand.
The professor nodded.
“Alright then, let’s start with the front-left table. We’ll go in order from there.”
Ellie and Philia were last.
Which meant that unless they did something, they would have to sit through this awkward silence the entire time.
‘O…,’ Philia thought. What? What do you mean? I didn’t do anything wrong, so why do I feel uneasy? I have nothing to feel guilty about. Then why… why does it feel like this?’
At the front of the classroom, two students exchanged greetings.
“Alright, if both of you are ready… Start!”
“Bore!”
“B-Bore…”
“Ah.”
“Okay, Jacqueline wins this round. After each match, you’ll have ten seconds to think. If you lost, consider how you can win next time. If you won, think about how to maintain your advantage. Then, when I give the signal… Start!”
“Gade!”
“Bo—Gade!”
“Bore!”
After a short exchange, both students’ quills flew from their hands.
“Even if it’s a draw, we’ll only go up to three rounds. You have ten seconds.”
Ellie quietly admired the class.
‘He’s good at this.’
He had effortlessly erased the awkwardness of the first lesson, encouraged bonding among students, and was still teaching in the process.
A duel in its simplest form.
But because of that, it naturally taught the concept of strategic thinking and resource management.
“Alright, well done. Next pair, please.”
As the matches continued, Ellie made a few observations.
First, most students seemed to be experiencing dueling with magic for the first time.
“Bore.”
“G… Ah…”
But there were also students who, whether due to talent or natural instinct, quickly stood out.
And Professor Teleman was sharp in identifying them.
And lastly—
Philia, sitting beside her, was growing increasingly anxious.
Her fingers fidgeted more and more, gripping tighter each time.
Her gaze kept shifting—lingering on the middle of the desk before flicking back to herself, the intervals getting shorter and shorter.
Ellie could even hear her breathing quicken.
If this went on any longer, she’d probably hear her heartbeat too.
This girl, seriously.
Her emotions were obvious.
She had told Ellie not to talk to her, but now she was regretting it.
She felt like she’d been too harsh, but apologizing was embarrassing.
She had been annoyed when Ellie got too close, but now that Ellie was staying away, she felt lonely.
In the end, Philia was still just a kid.
…Not that Ellie could say she was particularly mature herself, considering she’d pushed too hard just because she found Philia’s reactions amusing.
‘Oh well. Guess I’ll have to make the first move.’
Ellie opened her notebook and wrote a message.
Then she slid it across the desk.
Philia flinched and glanced down at it.
Ellie’s message was short.
[Sorry.]
Philia blinked and looked at Ellie.
For the first time that day, their red and black eyes met.
Ellie smiled slightly and signaled with her gaze: “Your turn to write.”
Philia’s soft lips parted slightly, then closed again.
Instead, she pulled out her pen and wrote in Ellie’s notebook.
[Really?]
[I won’t bother you too much anymore.]
[…I get to decide what “too much” is.]
[Mm. Sorry for annoying you.]
[Then, I’ll forgive you.]
The notebook gradually filled with their handwriting—Ellie’s bold and free-flowing, Philia’s neat and precise.
[So, I can talk to you again now?]
[I don’t know.]
[!! (crying emoji)]
[That’s not what I meant…]
[I know. You’re just being pouty, right?]
[Don’t call it that.]
[Sorry. Want to have dinner together later?]
[Don’t be too annoying.]
[OK, then it’s decided!]
[(OK) ← What’s this? A symbol?]
[Ignore it. I just drew a random line.]
[…?]
“Alright, last pair, please step forward.”
Only then did Ellie and Philia realize that everyone else had already finished.
Philia cleared her throat and stepped forward.
She felt embarrassed, realizing she had gotten too absorbed in communicating by scribbling in her notebook.
‘Still, well.’
As long as she wasn’t being overly clingy—if it was just occasionally, or at set times during the day—talking like this wasn’t so bad.
Maybe.
M-m-maybe, she didn’t need to go out of her way to avoid making friends.
And besides that, whether they were friends or not, if she was going to duel, she intended to take it seriously.
Philia tightened her grip on her wand, feeling nervous.
She hadn’t seen it firsthand, but she had heard that Dein Edwick had suffered a complete defeat against Ellie.
Honestly, she kind of regretted not watching it.
“Alright then, Ellie, Philia.”
Alongside the professor’s voice, whispers spread through the classroom.
“Is she the one from that day?”
“Shh, quiet! I want to see how she fights.”
‘What should I do?’
She formulated a strategy.
Even if she successfully activated Garde, the defensive effect would only last about ten seconds.
If Ellie overlapped her spell with Bore, would she be able to break through? Then, what should she cast first—
“You may begin.”
“G-Garde!”
Without thinking, Philia cast her defensive spell.
But it worked flawlessly.
Ether mana conversion? Clean, without any unnecessary elements.
Infusing the mana with a unique trait through the spell word? Smooth, with no lingering or excess mana.
All of this was reinforced by the ashwood wand that Philia’s father had spent a fortune to procure for her.
However.
“Bore.”
Ellie merely uttered the word.
Registering it as her own spell word for the first time, without even using a wand, just with a simple gesture.
And then—
A ripple spread.
“!!”
“!?”
Gasps echoed throughout the room.
Some students nearly screamed but quickly clamped their hands over their mouths.
Ether was the fundamental element that made up all things in the world.
Magic was the act of a person with aptitude claiming ether as their own, shaping a part of the world according to their will.
So, ‘could one alter another person’s magic?’
It was possible.
If the difference in power output was overwhelming.
For a moment, the ripple spread because Philia’s magic had almost been shattered.
It hadn’t broken—but she had barely managed to hold on.
And that was only because the Clyford family was a prestigious noble house with deep-rooted magical traditions, and Philia herself was exceptionally talented.
Most students wouldn’t have stood a chance; their defenses would have crumbled instantly.
‘W-what is this…’
Philia’s hands trembled.
The one gripping the wand, and even the one holding her feather pen.
On the other side, Ellie absentmindedly touched her hair, thinking to herself.
‘So, this is the limit.’
The limit of how much mana she could release while maintaining the black color of her hair and eyes.
Now she knew exactly where that threshold lay.
‘Then—’
Ellie pointed her hand at Philia again.
Flinch.
Philia’s fair-skinned body trembled.
Even though she knew it was useless, she gripped her feather pen tightly.
But instead of casting a spell, Ellie simply curled her fingers, gesturing for Philia to come at her.
“…!”
Philia’s face turned red.
‘Did she just taunt me?’
Gritting her teeth, Philia resolved herself.
If she was going to lose, she’d at least go down fighting!
“Bore!”
Then, Ellie’s feather pen slipped lightly from her fingers and flew toward Philia.
‘Huh?’
That shouldn’t have happened.
If Ellie had really wanted to, she could have stopped it easily.
‘Why—’
‘Could it be—’
“Agh, it’s hard to get the timing right.”
***
That day, Philia learned one of Ellie’s weaknesses—or rather, her shortcomings.
This girl was absolutely terrible at acting.
If she ever had to be in a play, she should be banned from stepping foot on stage.
Philia’s shoulders started to shake.
“…Hey. Ellie.”
Her voice came out in a growl, rough and strained.
“U-uh? W-what?”
Not only was she bad at acting, but when caught, she stuttered.
Another weakness noted.
But that wasn’t the issue right now.
“Stop holding back and fight me properly!!”
It was the first time in Philia’s life that she had ever gotten angry at a ‘friend.’
“Got it!?”
“I-I mean… I just—”
“I said, got it!?”
“A-alright! I’m sorry!”
Between Philia, panting furiously, and Ellie, completely flustered, the professor’s calm voice rang out.
“The ten seconds are already up. You may begin at any time.”
***
That evening, in the academy dining hall, a rather unusual table formed.
Seated in order of noble rank: Princess Stella Blaze, Lady Isabel Sucre, Lady Clea Lacostrin, and Lady Philia Clyford.
And finally, Ellie—an orphan.
Yet somehow, it was the orphan who was the central figure tying them all together.
That night marked the formation of a friend group that would spend the next four years together at the academy.
They laughed, talked, and gradually closed the distance between them, though some were still a little awkward with each other.
“Oh, right.”
Ellie scraped the last bit of soup from her bowl and spoke up.
“Who wants to come with me to the Imperial Capital this weekend?”