Chapter 1: Under the Harbor Lights‚ I Took Another Breath
The morning harbor town was enveloped in an air that mixed the scent of bread and sea breeze‚ making one’s stomach rumble a bit.
Aria Adel was quietly walking along the cobblestone street. In his hand was an old bag. Inside were books on magic theory and a notebook he had started writing in yesterday. It was quite a contradictory style to carry magic books despite not being able to use magic.
(……Well‚ reading doesn’t require magic power anyway)
He told himself that as he passed in front of the fruit shop. At the storefront‚ freshly picked oranges were piled high‚ each one seeming to shout‚ “I’m the sweetest!”
“Good morning‚ Aria. Heading to the library again today?”
The elderly owner of the fruit shop called out to him. Aria stopped and gave a small bow.
“Yes. Just a little research.”
“You’re so serious. Sometimes it’s good to just stare out at the sea and zone out.”
“…You’re right. I’ll try that next time.”
Even as he said that‚ Aria’s feet were heading not toward the harbor but toward the magic library on the edge of town. He was good at zoning out‚ but whenever he did it in front of the sea‚ he usually ended up targeted by seagulls.
(Those guys attack even if you don’t have any bread…)
Farther down the street‚ the bakery owner was fixing his signboard. It had apparently fallen over in yesterday’s wind.
The sign read‚ “We have bread that’s better than magic.” Better than magic? What does that even mean?
(……For someone like me who can’t use magic‚ bread is definitely more “useful.”)
The people of the harbor town didn’t treat Aria as anyone special. The boy once called a “child prodigy” was now simply a “quietly walking young man.” No one brought up his past‚ and no one asked about his magic.
That was something he was grateful for.
Once he passed through the street‚ the harbor came into view. Small boats slowly left the shore‚ and fishermen were pulling in their nets. Seagulls circled overhead‚ and the fishmonger’s boy was shouting‚ “They stole it again—!” It was everyday life. Perfect everyday life.
Aria stopped and gazed at the scenery for a while.
Even if he couldn’t use magic‚ he could live here. No one blamed him. No one expected anything from him.
That was exactly why he loved this town.
But—
(……Is that really enough?)
A small question rose in the depths of his chest.
It was still a question without an answer.
When he sat at the window seat in the library‚ Aria quietly took out the magic control device from his bag. It looked like a small pocket watch‚ but its actual role was the rather ominous one of “a safety device to prevent magic from going out of control.”
(……What kind of cursed constitution do I have that I need this thing or my magic might run wild?)
He placed the device on the desk and opened the magic theory book. The page read “Fundamentals of Emotion Magic and Resonance Formulas.” It was the field that had recently caught his interest.
His fingertips went tap tap.
Whenever his thoughts deepened‚ this habit appeared. The soft tapping on the edge of the desk melted into the library’s quiet.
Aria gently held out his hand. He let magic power flow. The control device reacted‚ and a faint blue light flickered.
“…All right‚ no runaway today.”
That was proof that his magic had moved “just a little.”
He tried to make a small piece of paper float. He let magic power flow and pictured the construction formula. The paper—
didn’t float.
It stayed stuck to the desk‚ not moving an inch.
“…Isn’t the gravity a bit too strong?”
Aria stared at the paper‚ speaking to no one in particular. It felt less like he couldn’t use magic and more like the paper itself was rejecting him.
At the neighboring seat‚ a boy who looked like a student from the magic academy was casually floating a ball of flame. His magic was as natural as breathing.
(……That’s what normal looks like.)
Aria quietly lowered his gaze.
Once‚ he too had been able to control magic like that. Draw the construction formula‚ let the magic power flow‚ and the spell would activate. That had been “normal.”
But now—
Magic power wouldn’t flow. Construction formulas remained silent. Magic refused to move.
Even so‚ he hadn’t given up.
(……Emotion magic. Maybe I can use that.)
That was why he still came to the library every day. Reading magic theory even though he couldn’t use magic. It seemed contradictory‚ but to him it was “hope.”
Just then‚ the piece of paper fluttered. It seemed the wind had blown.
Aria smiled softly.
“…Even without magic‚ things can still move.”
That gave him just a little feeling of salvation.
The quiet of the library was a “sanctuary for thought” for Aria. Time when no one would disturb him‚ no one would expect anything from him‚ and he could simply face the books.
But when the hand turning the page suddenly stopped‚ the door to his memories opened on its own.
(……Why was I so energetic back then?)
As a child‚ Aria had been a genius at magic construction. The precision of his magic circles‚ the speed of his calculation formulas‚ the control of his magic power—everything was abnormally accurate‚ and the adults around him had excitedly declared‚ “This child will be the next Minister of Magic!”
The boy himself‚ while drawing a magic circle‚ would calmly mutter‚ “If this line is off by 0.3 millimeters‚ it’ll explode…” Calm about an explosion. Looking back now‚ it was a little scary.
And then there was his mother—Reina Adel.
She was first-rate both as a mage and as an educator. But at home she was the “demon instructor of magic.”
“Aria‚ your magic flow is 0.2 seconds late. Do it again.”
“Yes……”
“That magic circle’s angle is too loose. Do it again.”
“Yes……”
“That ‘yes’ was too weak. Do it again.”
(That has nothing to do with magic‚ right!?)
At the time‚ Aria had desperately tried to live up to his mother’s expectations. Wanting praise‚ wanting recognition‚ he polished his magic. He discarded emotion and pursued only precision.
And then—the incident happened.
One day‚ during the academy’s public demonstration‚ Aria was supposed to show a “perfect construction formula.” The magic circle was beautiful‚ the calculations precise. Everyone believed it would succeed without a doubt.
But.
“…Huh? The magic power… it’s flowing too much…?”
The next instant‚ the magic circle glowed too brightly and exploded.
In the smoke and light‚ Aria was blown backward‚ part of the audience seats were scorched‚ and his mother’s face froze.
“You are a failure.”
Those words still rang in his ears.
(Wait‚ a failure…? Couldn’t you have phrased that a little better!?)
At the time he couldn’t cry. Crying would only make him feel like even more of a “failure.” So he stayed silent. Silently‚ he sealed away his magic.
Ever since then‚ his magic had stopped moving. Even if he drew a construction formula‚ magic power wouldn’t flow. Even after finishing the calculations‚ the magic remained silent.
It was as if his heart itself was rejecting it.
(……Back then‚ I thought of magic as nothing more than a “tool.” Emotion was just an obstacle.)
But now—
Having encountered the concept of emotion magic‚ his way of thinking was slowly beginning to change.
Magic was something that resonated with emotion. Anger‚ sadness‚ joy—those things influenced magic power. It was a different kind of magic from construction formulas—more vague‚ more human.
(……Maybe this is what I need.)
Yet every time he thought that‚ his mother’s words crossed his mind.
“Magic that relies on emotion is nothing but a mass of errors.”
(……Even if it’s full of errors‚ I wish it would just move…)
Aria let out a soft sigh.
When he left the library‚ the sky over the harbor town was already dyed with the colors of afternoon.
The sea breeze swept through the streets‚ and the bakery’s sign proudly declared‚ “Our bread is still better than magic today.” Yesterday it had said “Faster baking than magic.” Tomorrow it would probably say “Cheaper than magic.” Magic was losing pretty badly.
Aria walked slowly down the street. The elderly fruit shop owner was rearranging the oranges‚ and the fishmonger’s boy was glaring at the seagulls. At the harbor‚ small boats were returning to shore and fishermen were drying their nets.
No one treated Aria as special. No one brought up his past.
That was something he was grateful for.
(……But sometimes I wonder.)
What if my magic hadn’t gone out of control back then?
What if Mother hadn’t said those words?
What if I could still use magic freely—
Every time he thought of those “what ifs‚” something in his chest felt a little rough.
But right now‚ he had this town.
There was the bakery’s sign‚ there were seagulls‚ and everyone lived naturally.
And he was part of it too.
His fingertips went tap tap.
The habit of thought. But today it felt just a little lighter.
(……Even if I can’t use magic‚ I’m still here.)
That was the feeling of looking just a little forward.
“…Well‚ magic didn’t move again today.”
Aria muttered to no one in particular.
At that moment‚ a seagull passed overhead and dropped something white.
Aria quietly looked up at the sky.
“…Seagulls are way freer than magic.”
The harbor town’s afternoon was peaceful again today.
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