John got up with a sigh, picking up cards as he went, neatly shuffling them back into a deck.

"Damn, sorry about the mess. Come on, Prota, let's go."

The old elf reached out, panting. "Wait! You haven't answered my question!"

John turned back reluctantly.

"...what is there to say?"

Vespera got up, practically tripping over herself as she hobbled over to John, her feet shuffling along the carpeted floor. In mere moments, she was up close and personal, so much so that John could feel her breath on his face, the smell of minty herbs surrounding him. He was honestly a little more than uncomfortable, but the old lady was a lot stronger than she looked. Well, that was to be expected.

"You. Not once have I ever failed to read into someone's future. You are the first who has ever rejected fate itself. So, once again. Just who are you?"

The question was the same, but the meaning was completely different. This wasn't a question. This was a demand. John had just been identified as something that shouldn't exist, as something foreign, and that meant he was a potential threat. Whether he was one or not depended on how he answered the question.

Thankfully, there was an easy, honest response he could give.

"How am I supposed to know?" he shrugged.

"What?"

"Aren't you the seer?" John said, getting visibly annoyed. "If you don't know, how am I supposed to know? Seriously, if I knew I was gonna get called out like this, do you think I would've come here in the first place?"

"...I see."

In reality, if John had known there was a fortune teller in this room, he would've never come in the first place.

"But surely you know something," Vespera persisted. "There must be something unique about you. My ancestors were fortune tellers, just like me, and only once has someone's fortune been unread."

"...really?"

John wasn't all that interested. It could've been anyone, really, since there were a plethora of reasons why a fortune-teller could fail.

"Young man. There is a group known as Quaesitor Veritatis. A group that believed there was more to this world than what met the eye. Its founder was a great man of great power. He, too, was a seer of sorts. But no matter what he did, who he saw, there wasn't a single soul who could tell his fortune. Not one who could see his future. Don't you understand? There must be a connection! There must!"

Quaesitor Veritatis. Was this a sort of karma? He'd used their name to his advantage, and now it was being used to inconvenience him. First, it was Jinae, and now it was Vespera. What was it with old women and secret organizations?

"Ah, seriously. If I'd known they'd be this much of a pain in the ass…"

"So you do know something," Vespera insisted.

"Something about Quaesitor Veritatis, yeah, not this fortune telling shit. Seriously, just leave me alone. The king knows about all this already, so can we just go?"

The elf seemed reluctant to let John go, but in the end, she couldn't really hold them back.

"Ah, one last thing."

They stopped on the way out, turning back.

"Little girl. The world may be against you. But remember that not everything is against you. And when the time comes, please remember that. Remember whether you think the world deserves to live or die."

With that, she all but pushed them out, leaving Prota rattled.

Whether you think the world deserves to live or die.

What did that mean? She didn't hold the power to destroy the whole world on her own. That just wasn't possible. Even dragons didn't have such an ability. There was no questioning it now, though.

"So? How was it?" Haze said, seeing their messy hair and shaken looks.

"It was… um, well, how to put it… interesting?"

"I've heard that. She's the only seer in the kingdom. All Windwalkers have their future read by her, as well as any royalty. You two were an exception to this rule. I hope you paid the proper respects."

A bead of sweat fell down John's cheek, while Prota glanced downwards. Thankfully, it didn't seem that Destiny's mother was paying close attention.

"...thank you," John said quietly.

To anyone else, it might've seemed like he was being respectful, but in reality, he wasn't all that excited about what'd happened. He didn't know what was going on with this, but he didn't like it. The prophecy with Prota, the lack of information about him, Quaesitor Veritatis being mentioned yet again…

Chekov's Gun. How many bullets had just been loaded? No, forget that. How many times had it been cocked in the first place? He hadn't been keeping track. How many questions unanswered? How many muzzles aimed directly at his head, waiting for someone to come along and pull the trigger?

The last time he'd even thought of it was a year ago. He didn't know if that was a year's worth of [Story] or just a single day's worth, and he hated it. He hated not knowing.

But what could he do?

"...John?" Prota said quietly, grabbing onto his hand.

The question didn't need to be asked.

"Yeah. It'll be fine, Prota," John muttered back, but the words did nothing to reassure himself.

~~~

"Yelena."

The headmaster stood in her office, looking out the window onto the campus below. The unicorn Mystic bowed, setting a cup of tea gently on her boss's desk.

"Yes, Sofya?"

"There were some interesting students this year."

"Indeed. For the princess of the Elven kingdom to be a healer… and the prince of the Human kingdom to be a battle mage. The dwarvish princess to be such a fine alchemist as well."

"That's not what I meant, Yelena. You know that."

Yelena Lighthorn sighed, smoothing her dress before sinking into one of the sofas.

"Sofya. I may not be nearly as old as you, but I consider myself old enough to offer some advice. You need to look forward, into the future. You cannot keep dwelling on the past."

"...I understand."

The dragon turned around, taking a sip of the tea that had been brought to her, but the look in her eyes was dark.

"How long has it been, old friend? Half a millennium?"

Sofya nodded. "Yes. That is so."

"Your vision was to make a place where those with talent could be nurtured. Protected, taught and blossomed into their greatest potential. Do you not see the joy you bring to these children? The light you put into the world?"

The dragon's expression turned grim. "That isn't all true, and you know it."

"Mortals will always have their squabbles. We cannot stop them. Well, I suppose you can. After all, you are not bound by the restraints we are. But you know that would only cause more chaos. To play god is to be chaos. None of us can completely control the world. We are not omniscient, nor are we omnipotent."

Sofya remained silent for a while, only breaking the silence with a quiet clink as she set down her porcelain cup onto its plate.

"Something has shifted in the world, Yelena. And I do not know if we will be prepared."

The unicorn Mystic just sighed. "Preparing is all we can do."

A small smile appeared on the headmaster's lips.

"Yes. I suppose that is true."

~~~

"Destiny."

It was the night before they were to go back. Destiny had been sitting outside, watching the night sky, when John had come out to chat.

"Hey, what's up?" Destiny said with a smile.

"...are you really ok with all this?"

Destiny frowned. "What do you mean?"

He was suddenly concerned. Why was John being all serious like this? When he started acting like this, it was never a good sign.

John sat down with a sigh, looking out into the fields.

"You're twelve, Destiny."

"Actually, I'm-"

John cut him off. "No. You had your childhood robbed from you. According to your backstory, you were thrown into a warfield for most of your life. And now… you're a kid again. You have a chance to live your childhood. And yet you're training to fight the Demon King, risking your life for… for what?"

John wouldn't normally question this, but his mind was opening up to the idea that [Characters] were people, too. And if they were people, then Destiny was being put in an incredibly unfair situation. He was, in John's mind, still a child. Why should he be fighting to save the world?

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"Wow," Destiny laughed, snapping John out of his trance. "I didn't know you cared."

"I just-"

"No, no, it's fine. I… thank you. For caring." Destiny paused, closing his eyes. "And yeah, I guess it's not fair. But… well, I'm happy here. I have a chance to make up for what I lost. I have a family that loves me, and I was given the power to protect them this time around. Isn't that enough?"

John, too, closed his eyes. The power to protect those you love.

What a joke.

"Yeah. Fair enough," John nodded, getting up to leave.

"How about you?" Destiny said, raising an eye. "Don't you ever worry about why you're here? What if some higher being is playing with us, watching us-"

To Destiny's surprise, John just laughed.

"Higher being? Playing with us?" He just shook his head. "I wouldn't be too worried about that. Besides, do you really think anyone can control me?"

Destiny just nodded. "You know what? Fair point."

"Don't worry about me," John said, turning to go back to his room. "I'll be fine."

~~~

"Greetings, new students. I welcome you to Scholaris."

Surprisingly, nothing of interest happened after the incident with the fortune teller. John had fully been expecting some kind of incident with nobles. Some kind of early form of bullying, or perhaps some cocky kid displaying blatant arrogance for whatever stupid reason, but none of that was present.

As Sofya Ohrein continued with her welcome speech, John scanned the room. So many bright-eyed students. So many eager kids with shining futures ahead of them. War would inevitably ravage the country. Demons would surely invade.

How many of them would die? How many would be disposed of without ever being named? How many [Readers] would care?

None, probably.

"Then go. Fulfill the potential we see within you. And lead the world to a brighter future."

There was thunderous applause as the headmaster finished her speech, followed by hundreds of footsteps as students left to go back home. Classes would start tomorrow.

"That was a pretty good speech, wasn't it?" Destiny said as they left the auditorium.

"Yeah. I guess."

"What's up with you? You've been quiet for a while. It's-"

"What, a breath of fresh air? My bad."

"No. It's- it's not like you."

Indeed, John had been acting strange, almost as if he'd been trying to copy his sister's attitude. No quips. Not jokes. Just silence and thoughtfulness.

"Something's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong," John sighed, trying to dismiss the conversation.

"No, Destiny's right," Danjo chimed in, struggling to keep up with everyone else. "Come on."

The only one who wasn't pestering John was Prota. For one thing, she knew it wouldn't do anything. If he didn't want to speak, he wouldn't. But more than that, she felt no need to pressure him. If there was something important, he would tell her. So if he was being quiet, that meant something was up.

Something was bothering him, and John was typically a very tolerant person.

"Maybe I'm just in my emo phase," he tried. "You know. Like an angsty teenager or something."

"A what?" Danjo frowned.

"...never mind. Come on, it's fine. Let's just get ready for school, and we'll all have a boring four years of nothing."

"Boring? John, what do you mean boring, Scholaris is…"

Danjo continued to rant and rave, but John quickly tuned him out.

School. What was the point of this? Was Scholaris meant to be a time skip? Were they really going to just learn and socialize for four years straight? No, no matter how he looked at it, there was no way that was all this place was meant for. But then what? Would war break out early? Another way to get out early was to learn so quickly that there was nothing left to be taught; however, with Mystics as professors, that was simply impossible.

The tension was simply too loose. Nothing was happening. But something had to happen. But what? There were no hints of anything. No problems with nobles. No devils in sight. It bothered him. Ever since his fortune hadn't been read, it'd been bothering him. Where was the [Story] going?

Stories weren't meant to be like this. Stories weren't supposed to be without purpose. Even slice of life had themes, had troubles, had direction. But right now, even if John were a compass, there was no map to follow.

All he could do was go north.

~~~

As school began, Prota found that it was far easier than she'd anticipated. Rudimentary teachings such as reading, writing and mathematics were things John had already taught her.

Destiny was having an equally easy time, but Danjo was struggling a little. Still, with his intellect, the dwarf was easily catching up in material.

It was the other classes that Prota was looking forward to. Those would be during her casting classes.

Once a week, Leora Dawn, Mystic of the Dawn clan, would come in to personally teach the students. The rest of the week was spent with teachers who continued to help the students work on the material taught. It was a shame, but a singular Mystic simply did not have the time nor energy to teach over two hundred students in a single day, every day of the week. An average of fifty or so per day was far more manageable.

That wasn't to say that the other instructors weren't skilled. They were all proficient in casting, men and women who had a love of magic itself. Prota would even say they were comparable to what she'd seen from Jinae, who was an excellent magician in her own right. It was just that none of them could compare to a Mystic.

Still, Prota wished John were there.

Thankfully, the twins she'd met made the place a little more comfortable. As the days passed, she found herself sticking around them a little more. They were still strangers, but like Destiny and Danjo, they were more comfortable to be around.

In time, she might even be able to call them friends.

Friends weren't a large concern, though, not with how interesting the classes were.

"Students. What do you think a spell is? You there," Leora said, pointing to a student with a raised hand.

"It is a collection of mana, whose form takes shape depending on our will."

Leora nodded. "That is correct."

The Mystic raised her hand, delivering a quick chant to create a fireball, floating just above her palm. Everyone nodded. This was just a "fireball," a first-circle spell. Everyone knew what that was.

"And how do we cast spells?" she asked.

"By chanting," a few students called out.

"And why do we chant?"

The room went silent. It seemed that no one understood the premise of chanting. Prota looked around subtly, trying to see if anyone was hiding the answer.

But they weren't. The students really didn't know.

"Um… the words put our will into existence?"

This response was given by Lilith, who seemed to realize that no one was going to speak. There were a few snickers among the students, but those were quickly shut down as Leora let her aura flare just a little.

"Mm… close. Very close, in fact. I commend you on your insight. However, how would you then explain chantless casting? Who here understands what 'mana' is?" Leora asked.

Lilith answered again. "It's an energy source that exists everywhere. We are able to gather it into our cores and use it to cast magic."

"That is false. That is what you are taught for simplicity's sake."

There was a murmur among the crowd.

"Mana does exist around us all. And we do gather it into our cores. But it is not simply used to 'cast magic,' as you put it."

Leora lifted her other hand, another fireball forming. But then it began to stretch into a spear, growing longer and larger, until a column of flames stood right before the professor.

"You will not be able to do this much, but a certain degree of skill can be earned in your lifetime. Remember, children. Mana is used to command mana. Chants are not necessary to cast magic. They are simply aides in the process. The peak of magic, then…"

The flames shut off in an instant, and the students fell silent.

"Is to have perfect mastery over mana itself."

That was the end of the first class. The rest of the week, then, was almost dull compared to that. The other teachers aided students in refining their magic skills, teaching them what Prota already knew. The concept of refining one's magic and making spells more efficient was all Prota had worked on. It was all she had going for her.

Thankfully, it didn't seem that there was absolutely nothing to learn. In preparation for future lessons, students were taught one new chant. It wasn't for a new spell. It was simply a shortened version of fireball.

While the original spell was something like "inferno's might, fireball, ignite!" the teachers were now trying to coax the students into simply uttering the word "fireball" to summon the first circle spell. Prota watched as the students around her tried but could barely summon sparks. As a result, she, too, pretended to struggle, although it felt pointless.

She wanted to learn higher-level magic, but somehow, she felt that would be unwise. For now, she just nodded along with the other students and waited eagerly for something new.

~~~

John was having the time of his life. It seemed that the level of education in this world was rudimentary at best. In perspective, a child of similar age from Earth would seem like a mathematical genius. Most of these students were just learning to read, write and add. He could ace those topics, no problem.

The fighting, on the other hand…

"Students. Do you understand what aura is?" Lupin called out.

Instead of a classroom, the fighting class began in the training grounds. Fifty or so students were gathered around Lupin, who was hunched over, leaning on his cane as his tail swept from side to side.

"You, over there," he said, pointing to a student.

"It is the improved form of mana reinforcement, sir. A way of coating our bodies with mana in order to strengthen our physical capabilities."

"Hm… an adequate answer. That is indeed the textbook answer. Then, tell me. What is a grandmaster capable of?"

This time, it was Destiny who spoke up.

"That would be… the ability to manifest aura in a physical form. One can wield sheer aura as a weapon, using it to outperform standard forged weaponry."

"Good. Very good. Now, then. The goal for you all, by the time you graduate, will be to become Experts at the very least."

There was a large amount of muttering among the students. Expert? That seemed so far away. Would they be capable of that?

"But you should all aim for more. I believe those here are capable of this. There is a skill that some Masters have not yet obtained."

More whispering. A stage Masters hadn't obtained? How was that possible? A Master was capable of Aura Blade, the ability to coat one's weapon with aura and reinforce their weapon to the highest degree. Besides one's body, what else was there?

"I would like to give an example. Mm… you. Come up here."

Lupin was pointing directly at John, who looked around to make sure the Mystic wasn't pointing at anyone else, but no, it seemed John was getting picked on. With a sigh and an annoyed face, he walked up.

"Can you form aura, lad?"

John frowned. "No."

"Very well. Everyone. This is what aura looks like."

Lupin began to glow, a thin sheen of black energy coating his body, almost like some kind of forcefield. It was so thin that it was barely noticeable, but upon closer inspection, it was there.

"With this, I have reached the pinnacle of mana reinforcement. Both my defensive capabilities and strength have reached the most my mana can magic. Correct?"

"Yes, sir," the crowd chanted.

"You. Take a sword and hit me."

"Are you-" John started.

"Do it. As hard as you can."

John nodded, picking a training sword from one of the racks, and swung. As expected, the sword bounced right off. John cursed, dropping the weapon as he shook his hands, trying to shake out the pain in his wrists. He glanced at the blade, then back at the professor, only to find the wolf had a secret smirk on his face.

"Asshole," John muttered.

"Students!" Lupin called out. "As you can see, an ordinary blade does not pierce through the aura. Now then."

The light surrounding Lupin faded.

"Please. Swing again."

John paused. "Hey, wait a minute. You don't have-"

"Swing."

The hesitation John had shown was a show. There was no way Lupin would risk his own life. The same thing was going to happen again. The sword would bounce off or something, and Lupin would take no damage. Despite this, John still didn't know what the Mystic had done. He knew the answer but not the process.

Once again, he swung, a little lighter this time, but it didn't matter. Like before, the sword bounced off, but there was something different to it this time. It hadn't felt like hitting rock or steel. Instead, John had clearly felt a connection with flesh. It just hadn't affected the old man, as if John had used a twig rather than a steel sword.

"As you can see, I do not have aura surrounding me. Rather, my aura has been incorporated into my body."

"What?!"

The students went crazy. Incorporated it into his body? What did that mean? How?

"But that is for another day. You young cubs have barely scratched the surface. Learn. And someday, you will also be able to do this. Class dismissed."

The students immediately scattered, chatting about what they'd just seen. Destiny approached John, who had a pondering look on his face.

"You know what he did, don't you?" Destiny whispered.

John nodded subtly. "I have a theory. There's no real way to confirm it outside of asking him directly."

"What is it?"

"Are you sure you want to jump the gun on this? What if he has a whole method to learning what he just did?"

"Just tell me," Destiny pleaded.

"...do you understand the concept of cells?"

"Like, holding cells? Prison cells?"

John shook his head.

"There's too much to teach you, then. This involves something you don't know. Another day, maybe. Not out here, though."

Destiny opened his mouth, about to protest, but then the last thing John had said clicked in his mind.

Not out here, though.

This didn't involve John's strange intuition. This involved something from Earth.

"I'll hold you to that, then."

"No, you won't. But maybe."

John packed up and headed home for the day. Students all around him were dressed in the Scholaris uniform, but somehow, he'd been given room to wear his usual outfit. Probably a little gift from the [Author]. After all, if clothing were never described, it wouldn't matter what he wore. It probably didn't matter. There was no way the [Author] would be dumb enough to bring up an issue like this.

There was a jingle as he pulled out his dorm room keys, unlocking the door to find Prota inside.

"Did you have a good day?" he said, throwing his bag onto his bed.

"Nn."

"Yeah, yeah. You'll get used to it eventually. Come on, you've gotta make some friends eventually."

There was a glint in his eyes as he spoke, though.

"By the way. I learned something interesting today. Wanna hear about it?"

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