The next evening, Ryn returned to the mansion once more.
The atmosphere remained as silent as ever.
No voices.
No laughter from the female mages.
It was as if the entire estate had been sealed off from the outside world.
His first lesson began simply—and quietly.
"Sit."
Aurelia commanded.
Ryn obeyed at once and sat down.
"The first lesson is meditation.
You must gather your focus at the palm of your hand."
She walked slowly in a circle around him.
"Think of what you wish to create.
Fire, or water. Choose one.
Then release it—maintain its form in your palm."
Ryn closed his eyes and concentrated.
He thought of fire.
A campfire at night.
Torches lighting the city walls.
Lantern light on a rainy evening.
Images surfaced in his mind—but they remained scattered, unfocused.
He could not shape them into "fire" as he intended.
His palm remained empty.
Aurelia watched in silence for a while before speaking sharply.
"Stop letting your thoughts wander."
Ryn flinched.
His drifting focus was pulled back.
He tried again—this time with greater determination.
But the result was the same.
No fire.
No magic.
Nothing happened.
"Your concentration is still unstable."
The reprimand came again.
Ryn clenched his teeth and repeated the process over and over.
Yet the more he tried, the more chaotic his thoughts became.
He was scolded several more times
until the last light of day slowly faded away.
Aurelia spoke briefly.
"That will be all."
Ryn opened his eyes slowly.
Though exhausted and disappointed, he stood, bowed respectfully, and left the room.
His first lesson in magic had ended
without him creating anything at all.
Ryn returned to his bamboo hut after sunset.
He built a small fire in front of the house, the flames rising sluggishly.
"If I could use fire magic…" he muttered quietly to himself,
"I wouldn't have to light a campfire like this every day."
Ryn chuckled softly at his own thoughts.
After finishing his meal, he sat down in front of the campfire, staring at it intently—
as if trying to see straight through to its very essence.
The reddish-orange flames rose from the firewood, constantly shifting, never staying in the same shape for even a moment.
Ryn tried to memorize its form as best he could.
He closed his eyes and tried again.
Still, nothing happened.
"Strange…" he muttered.
"It doesn't look that hard… so why is it harder than I thought?"
He tried again and again, but the result never changed.
"Haa… using a sword is way easier," Ryn sighed.
"There has to be some kind of trick to it…"
He refused to give up, continuing to think—
until his eyes caught sight of a small branch lying near the fire.
Ryn picked it up and held the tip of the branch into the flames.
The fire caught instantly.
A small flame formed at the tip—
simple, steady, and clearly shaped.
Even though it flickered with the wind, it still maintained its "form."
Ryn's eyes lit up.
"That's it…"
He set the branch down and closed his eyes once more.
This time, he didn't think about the entire campfire.
He didn't think about the wild, dancing flames.
He focused only on the small flame.
The flame on the tip of the branch.
A steady flame.
A flame with a clear shape.
The image gradually sharpened in his mind.
Ryn gathered his focus
and released it through his palm.
It worked.
A small flame appeared in his hand.
"I did it…!"
Joy surged through him, shaking his concentration—
and in the very next instant, the flame vanished.
Ryn stared at his palm.
Even though the fire was gone,
a faint smile appeared on his face.
At the very least…
he now knew it was possible.
The following day, as the sun began to sink toward the horizon,
Ryn once again made his way to the silent mansion.
The lesson began without any ceremony.
Ryn sat down, focused his mind,
and followed what he had practiced on his own.
Before long, a small flame appeared in the center of his palm.
It burned clearly, holding its shape—
no longer vanishing like before.
"Good."
Aurelia offered only a single word of praise, her tone calm and emotionless.
"You are beginning to understand how to visualize and release your power.
Remember this flame of yours.
Do not ever forget it."
Ryn nodded with quiet satisfaction.
He could tell this was not casual praise—
it was something she truly expected him to uphold.
"Next… water."
Aurelia's instruction was brief.
Ryn focused again.
This time, he imagined a single droplet of water—
not a river, not rain,
not a flowing current.
When the image became clear, he slowly released it.
A clear droplet formed on his palm.
It was tiny—only one drop—
but it was a success.
Aurelia watched without praise or criticism.
"That will be all,"
she said.
"You may leave."
There was no further explanation.
No additional lesson.
Ryn stood, bowed politely,
and left the mansion,
returning to his small hut.
The moment he returned to his lodging,
the exhaustion that had built up throughout the day crashed over him.
Ryn collapsed onto his bed
and fell asleep almost instantly.
The next day, the lesson he had to face was wind.
He sat down, focused his mind,
and tried to visualize it.
But unlike fire or water,
wind had no shape, no boundaries,
nothing for him to grasp onto.
He thought and thought again,
yet no matter how hard he tried,
the image of wind refused to take form in his mind.
Aurelia watched him in silence for a long while
before finally speaking in her calm, indifferent tone.
"Fire, water, wind, and light
are the foundations of all magic.
If you cannot wield these,
you will never be able to use any other spells either."
Though spoken as instruction,
her words pierced deeply into Ryn's heart.
Yet he felt no mockery in them—
no contempt, no disdain.
They were not meant to belittle him,
but to warn him—
clearly, coldly, and directly—
that the path ahead would only grow more difficult.
Throughout that day's lesson,
Ryn failed to produce even the faintest breeze.
And it was not just that day…
Several days passed,
yet the result never changed.
No gentle airflow.
No response from his magic.
At last, Aurelia spoke without hesitation.
"If you still cannot do it,
there is no need for you to return here."
Ryn lowered his head,
bowed to his teacher with a heavy heart,
and walked out of the mansion—
back to his small hut,
alone.