The morning sun hung low on the horizon, painting the clouds with streaks of orange and gold. Beneath the shimmering sky stretched a small village, nestled among green hills, tucked between swaying trees that danced gently in the morning breeze.
Near an old wooden house, Clara was practicing magic. She was doing her best to cast a spell from a book resting in her left palm.
" Blue aqua, creation, pilaqua orbis! "
A few liquid molecules began to gather at a single focal point in Clara's right hand. They merged to form a small floating sphere of water, hovering above her palm.
Clara exhaled slowly. She then focused on a nearby apple tree, preparing her next move.
"Red aqua, strike, pilaqua orbis!"
A force surged through her hand, launching the water sphere toward the tree. However, the pressure was unstable, causing the sphere to burst mid-air.
"Cis!" Clara clicked her tongue in frustration. Her body was already glistening with sweat, illuminated by the rising sun. She lowered her right hand to her waist, clenching it in disappointment, while her left hand closed the book. She bowed her head slightly.
"How can I do all of this if I can't even cast an offensive spell properly?"
She leaned against a tree and slumped down, her gaze turning wistful as she looked at the vast expanse before her—the familiar village landscape she saw every day. Living on a hill gave her a clear view of everything. Her home was not large; its paths and corners were easy to memorize.
A short distance away, beyond the village, stretched a vast meadow filled with colorful tulips. Clara often visited it as a child.
A small smile appeared on her lips. She then tilted her head upward, watching the clouds drift lazily across the blue sky. A flock of birds moved together, forming a heart shape as they flew.
"Looks like I still need to train with someone. Maybe having someone by my side could help."
Determined, Clara stood up and walked toward her home.
Inside, she prepared lunch. The aroma of spices filled the air, and steam rose from the simmering pot before vanishing into nothingness.
"Done!"
She carefully lifted the clay pot and placed it on the table. Sitting down on a chair, she clasped her hands together.
"Bon appétit!"
She poured some of the stew into a small bowl, taking a careful sip, mindful of the heat.
Once she finished, she covered the leftover stew and left it on the table. Then, she stepped into her room. The midday sun shone through the small window, illuminating the modest space. The room wasn't large, just enough for a bed, a neatly arranged bookshelf, and a wooden desk cluttered with thick tomes on magic. Though simple, it was where Clara felt most at ease—a place for her to study and deepen her knowledge of magic.
The house was silent—only she lived there. This solitude had long become her norm, and she preferred it that way.
She sat at her desk, picking up the same spellbook from earlier, flipping through its pages with interest, searching for a theory relevant to her morning training.
"To cast an offensive spell, one must rely on the stability of energy, not just intent."
She recalled her failed attempt earlier—it was not the first time she had struggled with offensive magic. The mocking voices of her old schoolmates echoed faintly in her mind.
Clara placed the book down and closed her eyes for a moment, focusing on the remaining energy within her body. Fatigue from the morning still lingered, but her desire to understand magic outweighed her weariness. She resumed reading, immersing herself in the study of magical elements and how they could be manipulated more effectively.
After a while, Clara shut the book and leaned back in her chair. Her mind was still filled with the theories she had just learned. She gazed out the window at the vast blue sky.
"My next training session must be better," she whispered.
She knew mastering magic wasn't easy, but she was ready to keep trying—step by step.
Taking a deep breath, she continued to stare at the endless sky outside her window. A moment of tranquility settled over her, yet her mind remained occupied with questions about the magic she was learning. Though her morning training had been unsatisfactory, she understood that every failure was a step toward success.
Her eyes shifted to the desk, where an open book on elemental magic still lay. She flipped through the pages, reading about energy stability in fire-based attacks.
"Each element has its own uniqueness, but energy stability determines its effectiveness," an ancient mage had written.
Clara raised her hand, attempting to feel the energy flow within her. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply, focusing on her palm. Slowly, tiny red particles flickered into existence, swirling like embers caught in the wind.
"Alright… This time, I need to stay calm," she whispered to herself.
She gently curled her fingers, allowing the energy to gather. However, just as she tried to shape it, the light abruptly flickered and vanished.
Clara sighed, disappointed but unsurprised. It wasn't the first time she had failed.
Leaning back, she pondered. Was her body still too exhausted? Or had she made an error in her technique? Her eyes returned to the book in front of her, deciding to read one more chapter before trying again.
Minutes passed in silence, the only sound being the rustling of turning pages. Eventually, she rested her chin on her hand, lost in thought.
"Maybe I should rest a bit before trying again," she mused.
She rose from her seat, walked over to the window, and pushed it open. A gentle breeze caressed her face, bringing a comforting sense of calm. She allowed her mind to drift, before a small smile formed on her lips.
"I'll keep trying… until I succeed."
With renewed determination, Clara turned back to her desk, ready for yet another attempt.
She took a deep breath before settling into her chair once more. Her resolve remained steadfast—she would not stop until she mastered it. She studied the book carefully again, not only focusing on theories of energy stability but also on how past mages had overcome their weaknesses.
"The key to controlling energy is not in force, but in balance," one passage caught her attention. "If you force magic to take shape, it will become wild and unstable. Instead, if you allow energy to flow harmoniously, it will respond to your will."
Clara stared at the sentence for a long time. Maybe that was her mistake all along—she had been trying too hard to 'force' the energy to gather without truly understanding its flow.
She raised her hand again, this time with more composure. Closing her eyes, she imagined the energy flowing like a calm river rather than crashing waves. She took a slow breath, feeling a faint warmth begin to form in her palm. This time, the fire particles were more stable, swirling gently instead of flickering erratically like before.
A small smile formed on Clara's lips. "Alright… now for the next step."
With full concentration, she attempted to shape the energy into a small fireball. Her fingers carefully controlled the flow of energy, allowing the fire to condense and become denser. Sweat began to bead on her forehead, but she didn't stop. Bit by bit, the fireball took shape, pulsing gently with controlled energy.
Clara's smile grew wider. This was the progress she had been striving for!
However, just as she tried to maintain its form for longer, a sudden disturbance arose. A slight tightness crept into her chest, and her hand started to tremble. "Ah… this is harder than I thought…" She tried to stabilize the energy, but in the end, the fireball shattered, disappearing into a small puff of smoke.
Clara sighed, but she didn't feel as disappointed as before. "I almost had it," she murmured, more to herself than anyone else. "I just need more practice."
She closed her book and rubbed her forehead. The sun was now directly overhead, and exhaustion was beginning to set in. Perhaps it would be best to rest for a while before continuing her training later. After all, she knew this journey was far from over—and she wasn't going to stop here.
With her determination still burning strong, Clara stood up from her seat and stepped out of her room, allowing her mind to rest before trying again.