Closing the door, Mary's father walked back into the cozy dining room. He looked at Mary and let out a long sigh, his grip on the letter tightening.
He returned to his seat and met his wife's questioning gaze. With a brief nod to reassure her that everything was fine, he continued his meal. Even Mary could sense the heavy atmosphere, and for once, she became unusually quiet.
Late that night, after Mary's mother had tucked her in, she returned to the bedroom. She opened the door softly to find her husband staring intently at the unopened letter, lost in deep thought.
"That letter... it's from Veldawine, isn't it?"
Her husband slowly looked up, his face partially veiled by the shadows of the room. He ran his fingers lightly across the surface of a nearby desk, and an invisible barrier instantly enveloped the room. This was a basic Silence spell—a curtain of magic that prevented eavesdropping, though it was fragile against offensive spells or high-level detection, which was why few mages relied on it.
With the barrier set, he finally spoke. "Yes. Just as you thought. It's a recruitment letter from the Veldawine Academy of Magic."
His wife covered her mouth, her eyes reflecting a mix of shock and dawning realization. "But... I thought the minimum age for Veldawine was ten? Our daughter is only eight. Is this even..."
He understood her concern. Standing up, he led her to sit on the bed beside him, his voice low and raspy. "Don't you remember? There was once a mage granted special admission at the age of seven. It was due to that mage's raw talent. Veldawine is strict with their selection, but they have always prioritized geniuses, haven't they?"
"But still..."
He smiled faintly, though his expression grew grimmer. He looked out at the moon through the window, his voice dropping so low it was like a passing breeze. "Our daughter... isn't she a genius too?"
His wife squeezed his hand, biting her lip before offering a relieved smile. "Don't be so gloomy. That day was bound to come eventually, wasn't it? And this time, your idol Marsvell himself came to our door. Isn't that a good thing?"
She tried to pivot the conversation, wanting to move past the heavy subject. She knew Marsvell was her husband's hero; he even had a private room dedicated to collecting and studying Marsvell's various theses. Usually, mentioning Marsvell was enough to distract him instantly.
But this time, it didn't quite work.
"Dear, don't try to distract me," he said, scratching his head and looking at her with a hint of helplessness. She just winked at him. "Hais... well, I suppose that day is here. If I stay this negative, what will she think of her father?" He collapsed back onto their warm bed and drifted into sleep.
The next morning in the dining room, the three of them were having breakfast. Mary finished first and was about to slip away to play with Tirian when her father stopped her.
"Mary, wait. I have something to tell you."
"Yes?" Mary turned back, padding over to her father with a curious look.
Her father pulled a letter from his coat pocket, acting mysterious. "Do you know what this is?"
"No, sir."
Mary looked at the letter curiously. Her father didn't beat around the bush any longer and placed it directly into her hands. "This is a letter specially addressed to you, Mary."
The paper felt slightly cold and rough to the touch. It had beautiful, shimmering gold borders and a red wax seal in the middle—an insignia depicting the face of a rather old man.
"Open it, Mary." Her mother gently touched her shoulder from behind. Mary nodded but fumbled, not knowing how to proceed.
"Ah... I forgot. You don't know how to open a formal seal yet." Her father laughed sheepishly. He spent five minutes teaching her how to open and read it. Once it was open, Mary pulled out a sheet of white paper. She stared at the words, recognizing some but missing others. After all, she was only eight and hadn't begun serious schooling yet; the vocabulary in the letter was a real challenge for her.
Her parents watched her closely as they began to explain the contents. The letter was an invitation for Mary to enroll at the Veldawine Academy of Magic next week as a special-admission student. It also included instructions on how to access the Reverse Side of the World to enter the realm of mages.
To explain: the world consists of three parallel existences. First, the Primary World, where ordinary humans live, where mana is extremely low and fading. Second, the Reverse Side of the World, an independent space layered over the primary world, created by ancient mages to avoid disturbing human life; here, mana is abundant and nearly infinite. Finally, the Divine Realm—according to history, this is the dwelling of gods from various mythologies, but as no one has ever verified its existence, it remains a great mystery.
Entering and exiting the Reverse Side is difficult without specific incantations or transit hubs, so most mages settle there permanently. Since the Primary World has almost no mana left, making research and practice nearly impossible, few mages are interested in visiting it.
After this brief explanation, Mary's head was spinning with information. Magic? Magic school? This wasn't a fairy tale. Her eyes grew hazy, the words going in one ear and out the other without leaving a trace.
Seeing his daughter looking like a dazed little fool, her father tapped his forehead and sighed. He looked at her seriously. "Everything we just said is the truth. If you don't believe me... well, I'll just say it: your father is a mage too."
Mary's mouth fell open, her face a mask of shock. Seeing her exaggerated expression, her father was certain she didn't believe him. He smirked, his face taking on a cool, confident look.
He held out his hand. "Watch closely, Mary. I'm only doing this once."
He snapped his fingers. From his palm, a tiny spark appeared, growing until it completely enveloped his hand in flames.
Mary's eyes went wide. "Fire! Dad! Your hand is on fire!"
"I'm not done yet. Watch." He slowly manipulated the flames. They moved as if tamed, following every gesture of his hand.
Mary was now a total believer. She ran over and hugged his leg, her eyes filled with a thousand lights. "Dad! Can you teach me that? I want to learn so I can show Tirian!"
Her father patted her head, but internally he was sighing. 'Good grief, the mana in the Primary World is pathetically low. I'm so jealous of those Council folks with their Mana Stones.' He had wanted to perform a truly spectacular spell to impress his daughter, but because the local mana was so thin, his conversion rate was severely hampered. Now, he could only manage minor spells for protection in emergencies.
He let out a soft breath and stroked her hair. "Mary, don't get too close while I'm using magic. If I can't stop it in time, you could get burned."
As he ruffled her hair, Mary pouted but didn't argue. Her father was telling the truth; a moment ago, the heat around him had been intense, but it had vanished the moment she got close.
"If you go to the Magic Academy, you can be just like your father. Are you interested?" Her mother chimed in with a kind smile, joining her husband in ruffling Mary's hair until it looked like a messy bird's nest.
"Stop messing with my hair!"