The Distant Trail of Ciara Badvia

The Saria Magic Academy
Part 2: To the Academy

A QUIET END TO THE FIRST DAY

Then, Misty suddenly lowered her voice and turned serious. She raised her right index finger, capturing Tyril’s attention. “One thing to be cautious about: I think it’s better that you don’t tell anyone that you’re Badvia’s daughter.”

“Oh, y-yes! Absolutely!”

Tyril had no intention of spreading the word about it. She was afraid of slipping up and would have to be more vigilant. After her failure to do exactly that this time, her determination only grew stronger.

“I understand. Other people won’t see my special treatment as a good thing.”

“What? Ah, that’s not what I meant. It’s only natural for students with good grades or promising futures to receive scholarships or exemptions from exams. What I’m concerned about is that it attracts a bunch of stupid people. They’re going to make a big deal about you being Ciara Badvia’s daughter, and they’ll probably expect you to use amazing magic and talk behind your back when you can’t. There’s no point in unnecessarily drawing attention, you know?”

Tyril nodded along Misty’s words with a solemn gaze. Right, I should have thought about this, too. The scales fell from her eyes—once again, she had been somewhat naive. 

The fact that she was around so many people now meant there were more things to be mindful of. She still didn’t have the confidence that she could live her life in this grand academy at the heart of the city.

The two of them cleared the plates in front of them then spent some time sharing stories about themselves and laughing together. The fragrant tea they had after dinner was quite expensive. Tyril had tried to refuse, but in the end, Misty’s insistence won out—“It’s fine. I’ll treat you today as a token of our friendship.”—and she eventually paid for it. It felt a little awkward, but in truth, Tyril was so happy that her body might have trembled.

Even after returning to their rooms, Tyril continued chatting with Misty. She talked and expressed so much that one might have thought this was the first time she had ever interacted with another person.

Then they talked a little about the academy. First, about what Tyril should do tomorrow. In order to advance on her own studies, the first thing she needed to do was to choose a professor to mentor under and greet them, then select the classes she was going to take and put together her schedule. Once all of that was decided, she must then submit and register it to the administrative office.

Misty explained the whole process politely and concisely, but she seemed to understand Tyril’s feelings, that she couldn’t completely grasp every step.

“For now, I’ll introduce you to the recommended things for people majoring in applied magics during tomorrow’s class. We can leave other matters for the next day, too. You must be tired already, so you should go rest.”

Comforted by her words, Tyril decided to retreat to her room, which was only separated by curtains. She lit the lamp provided using one of the few magic she could wield, illuminating the room softly.

An empty bookshelf. An old, scratched desk. A worn-out bed and mattress. A wardrobe made of zelkova wood. It was the bare minimum, but it was more than sufficient for Tyril to live with.

She unpacked her meager belongings, laid out the clothes she had brought, and changed into a white, one-piece dress.

The blouse, skirt, and cape she had taken off were hung in the wardrobe; her three favorite books and the bundle of letters from her father found their place on the bookshelf; and the booklet given to her in the office was left on the desk. She also carefully stowed away the undelivered gift to Well inside the desk’s drawer.

Unpacking took no more than five minutes. Despite the plain space, it was enough for her to feel the excitement of a new beginning. Tyril nodded in contentment and glanced at the desk.

She opened the blue-spined notebook. Nervously, she wrote her name on the first page. Thanks to her book-loving father, Tyril had a basic grasp of reading and writing, but paper was not cheap, and she rarely had the opportunity to write by hand. 

Her own name danced crookedly on the page. In this notebook, she could freely write her own letters. It was so moving that it gave her goosebumps.

Tyril took a deep breath to suppress her excitement, then gently placed the pen down and closed the notebook. Her pounding heart was starting to feel heavy, so she convinced herself it was time to sleep.

She stood up and slowly moved towards the living room, peering into the adjacent room. Misty sat at her desk, engrossed in a thick book, jotting things down on paper. Tyril had heard that Misty specialized in the logical study of magic. Is that her research work? She didn’t want to disturb, so Tyril only softly said, “Goodnight.”

Then, she returned to her room and lay her weary body down quietly. Surprisingly, her racing heart gradually settled down within five minutes.

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For more from the author, visit:

Narou: https://mypage.syosetu.com/1258514/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/inui_takafumi

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Last revisions: 20/08/23

Glossary:
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1_D4XF1ID8j7zti3pG-fqtcd0h0T9aZHK_CXsCrr5gwY/edit?usp=sharing

Revisions:
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1jS9QeSLaJfl6P_-Gl-zAY0dnKPep3or9fUl-HPukc9g/edit?usp=sharing