Albion sat quietly in Sheila's lap, his eyes glowing with a faint, pale luminescence as he stared into the distance. Sheila's gloved hands rested over his own, shielding him from the cold stone of the corridor.
Around them, the corridor was thick with a dense, drifting mist. It was the residual steam of Juvia's magic, slowly evaporating the lingering water that had flooded the passages.
Sheila hovered a few inches above the floor, holding Albion securely by his waist with one arm while her free hand idly caressed his hair.
Albion released a low, quiet breath, his shoulders dropping in uncharacteristic relaxation.
'Like a rabbit,' Sheila thought, a faint, imperceptible softening touching her features. 'An exceptionally guarded one.'
Albion tilted his head upward, his fuchsia eyes meeting Sheila's calm, level gaze. He paused for a moment, processing his thoughts before speaking.
"Sheila?"
"Yes?"
"What do you think of Juvia?"
Sheila paused, her expressions remaining smooth as she considered the question. "I care for her deeply. Similar to the bond between elder and younger siblings, or a guardian and a child. I am her caretaker."
Albion kept his eyes fixed on her. "Do you believe Juvia feels the same toward you?"
Sheila paused once more, letting a brief silence settle between them. "Juvia is often reserved regarding her emotions. However, even without verbal affirmation, her actions demonstrate her affection."
Albion nodded slowly, shifting his gaze back toward the fading steam.
"Is there a specific reason for this line of questioning, Albion?" Sheila asked. She did not expect an immediate response, but after a long silence, the boy spoke.
"The person who raised me... my caretaker... did not care for me," Albion said, his voice flat and devoid of dramatic inflection, yet heavy with certainty. "For a long time, I attempted to convince myself otherwise. I believe I possessed a strong desire to be valued by someone."
He stopped, his fingers tracing the soft fabric of Sheila's gloves.
"She raised me to hate her. She placed a curse upon me during our initial encounter, and she bestowed my surname out of hate. Her goal was for me to despise her," Albion stated, his tone analytical despite the weight of his words. "What is the purpose of raising a child under those parameters? Why did she want my hatred? ...Is there something wrong with me?"
"There is nothing wrong with you," Sheila replied instantly. There was no pause this time; her tone was firm, clear, and absolute. "Seeking care and safety is a human trait. The flaw lies entirely within the individual responsible for your upbringing. What was her name?"
Albion remained quiet for a long moment, eventually shaking his head. "I am uncertain. She never told me."
Sheila continued her steady, rhythmic caress of his hair, her voice remaining quiet, though her mind calculated the implications.
'She withheld her identity from him?' Sheila thought, her eyes narrowing imperceptibly. 'Either to conceal her origin, or he has suppressed it due to trauma. He is only five years old.'
Behind her level expression, a dark, dangerous irritation stirred deep within her.
'What manner of individual inflicts such psychological conditioning upon a child?'
Remembering how violently Albion had flinched from her touch when they first met—the instinctual terror of adult physical contact—a cold revulsion settled in her stomach. Sheila had spent her life in the guild as an orphan, but years ago, she had managed an orphanage. She knew children. She knew how they broke.
'I carry my own failures,' Sheila thought, a fleeting image of an orphanage consumed by fire flashing through her mind before she suppressed it entirely. 'I will not ignore another.'
"Albion," she said, her voice dropping back into its calm, deliberate rhythm. She reached into her suit and held out her open palm.
Resting in her gloved hand was a smooth, palm-sized orb made of a pale gray material resembling polished marble. Thin, vein-like fractures traversed its surface, glowing with a constant azure light, centered around a single engraved rune.
"How about I teach you a little bit about magic? You like knowledge, don't you?" Sheila said with a subtle shift in her tone.
Albion stared at the orb, his fuchsia eyes widening. "What is that object?"
"This is the Gravois Core. It is a Holder-Type Magic Item," Sheila answered. "It grants its wielder—in this instance, myself—authority over Floating Magic."
"Holder-Type?" Albion repeated, his head tilting slightly. "Floating Magic?"
Sheila paused briefly, realizing the scope of his isolation. "...I see. You are unfamiliar with the classifications."
She smoothed her posture, adopting the tone of a professional instructor.
"Magic is fundamentally divided into two primary classifications: Caster Magic and Holder Magic," Sheila explained, her words short, clear, and structured. "The distinction is precise."
She raised her free hand.
"A Caster Mage utilizes their own physical body as the primary catalyst. Magic Power is structured internally before being projected outward—most frequently through the hands, though other physical mediums may be utilized depending upon the discipline."
She lowered her hand back toward the orb.
"A Holder Mage relies upon an external medium. Rather than channeling raw internal energy into a direct phenomenon, they utilize artifacts specifically constructed to store, focus, or alter magical properties. These artifacts are not independent power sources; they require the Mage's own Magic Power to operate. The item functions as the structural vessel."
She paused, ensuring he was processing the information.
"Beyond these primary divisions exist distinct categorizations based on historical origin or distribution. Among these are Ancient Spells, Lost Magic, and specialized Magic Items." Sheila kept her voice measured and level.
"Ancient Spells are disciplines preserved from antiquity. They represent early forms of magic that have survived across generations. Lost Magic refers to arts that have vanished from common practice over time—frequently due to extreme difficulty, risk to the caster, or intentional erasure."
Her gaze settled directly on Albion's eyes.
"Do not mistake classification for capability. A Caster Mage is not inherently superior to a Holder Mage, nor is a Lost Magic inherently superior to a standard discipline. Potency is determined by the proficiency of the Mage, not the title of the spell."
Albion absorbed the words, processing the logic carefully. "And Floating Magic is..."
"Floating Magic is…" Sheila proceeded to explain Floating Magic in greater detail, outlining its principles, limitations, and practical uses.
Albion's eyes lightened with a rare spark of clear, innocent interest. "Is that what allows you and Juvia to hover?"
"Correct," Sheila nodded. "However, Juvia utilizes Caster-based Floating Magic directly. I merely channel the effect through this Holder item. I do not possess the ability of the magic itself."
"Why?" Albion asked directly. "Is it difficult?"
Sheila paused, choosing her vocabulary carefully. "Learning multiple distinct magical disciplines requires proportional time and effort. Attempting to master several independent Magic frequently leads to inefficiency. Holder Magic allows a Mage to utilize secondary utilities without diluting their primary discipline."
Albion looked at her, his mind organizing the information cleanly. 'she so smart. I guess this is what it means to be an experienced wizard.'
He referenced her earlier explanation against his own experience. 'Codex Magic relies on my own internal network. My Information Threads are projections of my own energy, not external artifacts. Therefore, I am a Caster Mage.'
He looked toward the mist where Juvia was working. "Is Juvia's Skywater Magic also classified as Caster Magic?"
"Yes," Sheila confirmed. "Juvia utilizes her internal Magic Power to condense environmental moisture into high-density fluid, which she then directs through precise control. The moisture is environmental, but the catalyst and control originate from her."
Albion remained silent for a long moment, staring blankly at Sheila's suit. "...What is Magic Power?" he asked quietly.
Sheila stared down at him, her expression completely flat for three full seconds.
"...you don't know?"
Albion gave a nod of the head.
Sheila released a quiet, measured sigh, closing her eyes briefly. 'I'll just go under the assumption that he only knows the basics.'
"The baseline source of all magic is Ethernano," Sheila began, her tone strictly educational. "It is the fundamental particle present throughout the natural world—in the atmosphere, the world, and living matter."
She tapped her chest lightly.
"A Mage does not cast spells using raw Ethernano directly. Your body absorbs Ethernano and refines it into Magic Power. This refined energy is stored within a metaphysical structure referred to as a Magic Container."
She paused.
"The capacity of your container dictates your limit—how much energy you may expend before reaching exhaustion. Every spell draws directly from this reserve. Complete depletion results in physical fatigue and temporary inability to cast."
"How does it replenish?" Albion asked.
"Naturally," Sheila answered. "Your body continuously absorbs surrounding Ethernano to rebuild your reserves. The rate of replenishment increases with rest, meditation, and precise internal control. A skilled Mage does not simply possess a larger Container; they minimize energy waste."
She met his eyes with a firm, quiet stare.
"Reserves alone do not dictate strength. An undisciplined Mage with vast reserves will exhaust themselves needlessly. A disciplined Mage achieves maximum efficiency with minimal expenditure."
Albion nodded his head. Understanding. 'I'm learning so much. Much more than what I could learn in the library…'
He looked up at Sheila, his expression turning solemn. "Sheila. Teach me."
Sheila raised an eyebrow slightly. "Is that how you ask?"
Albion corrected himself instantly, his tone flat and formal. "Sheila, will you please instruct me in magical theory?"
Sheila looked at him for a long moment, then gave a single, slow shrug of her shoulders. "Very well. I have nothing else to do while Juvia completes her task."
She smoothed her gloved hand over his head once more. "I will explain the fundamentals of being a Mage."