Chris was not satisfied with the magic researcher's answer. He wanted to confirm the truth with other Mages as well.
Under the pale afternoon sun, Chris spotted three travelers walking down the paved road. One of them caught his eye immediately. The teenage woman wore a long dark cloak and a tall, cone-shaped hat. She carried a wooden magic staff resting casually against her shoulder.
Chris stepped right into their path. "Good afternoon."
The group stopped their march. The teenage woman offered a warm, welcoming smile. "Good afternoon to you too."
Chris did not waste time with small talk. "Miss, are you a Mage?"
She let out a soft chuckle. "I am."
She was entirely used to neighborhood children pointing at her traditional outfit.
"Can I ask you something?" Chris asked, his hands gripping the hem of his shirt.
"Go ahead," she replied as she leaned slightly on her staff.
Chris took a deep breath. "In casting an attack spell, which will result in more damage? A shot fired directly at a target going in a straight line, or a shot fired upward, creating an arc three hundred meters above the sky before it hits the target?"
---
The three people blinked in sheer surprise. Kids normally asked for heroic tales about hunting beasts. This was a highly technical combat question.
The Mage placed her thumb and index finger below her chin to think. "The shot traveling in a straight line is more destructive."
"Really?" Chris asked, his voice trembling slightly.
"Yes," the Mage confirmed.
To show off for the curious boy, she raised her wooden staff. A solid block of ice materialized out of thin air and hovered between them. She enjoyed making children smile, so she happily broke down the mechanics.
"I cast two spells here. First, I created ice from nothing. Then, I used floating magic for this ice to float."
The Mage pointed at the freezing block. "If I shoot this ice three hundred meters into the sky, air resistance would weaken its impact the moment it lands back on the ground. It is much worse with Fire Magic."
She canceled the ice and raised her wooden staff again. A blazing fireball appeared in its place. Chris took a step back as he felt the intense heat radiating from the flames.
"I cast only one spell here," the Mage explained proudly. "I created this fireball. I do not need to cast floating magic because fire is weightless. Because this fire is created from magic, it won't fall down. A fireball is magical energy. If I shot it to the sky, the air resistance will stop it significantly the moment it starts to descend."
A woman wearing a lightweight Thief combat outfit suddenly interrupted the lesson. "What are you talking about? And why are you proudly explaining? It's just basics."
The Mage's cheeks flushed red. "I'm not. Don't interrupt me."
The Thief crossed her arms and looked at Chris. "If a fireball is shot into the sky to an altitude of three hundred meters, it acts like a balloon since the heated gas is lighter than the surrounding air."
"Hey, I am the one explaining to the kid," the Mage complained.
The Thief completely ignored her. "The wind at that altitude is strong. You are lucky if the fireball will be able to go downward at all. Because like a balloon, the wind will make it fly away in the sky."
The Mage sighed heavily, clearly annoyed that her thunder was stolen.
A huge man wearing the heavy iron armor of a Tanker chimed in. "I'm not a Mage, but you two are forgetting the Aura Tail. If it exceeds a three-hundred-meter distance, an Aura Tail would eat its own spell to sustain the fuel."
"It depends on the Mage who cast it," the Mage argued back. "Normally, the Aura Tail would eat its own spell, but the Mage has the option to build it differently. In the context of the arcing scenario, the Mage must design the Aura Tail to turn itself off rather than cannibalize its own fireball for fuel. That avoids weakening the spell when it reaches the maximum of three hundred meters, so it relies solely on gravity for the impact."
The Tanker scratched his thick beard. "I think I read a storybook when I was a kid about a magic spell that is shot upward to create an arc."
The Thief snapped her fingers. "It was Thrudora."
"Oh yeah, I remember now," the Mage nodded in realization. "I read a storybook about a great wizard casting a very bright magic spell. What is the name of that spell again?"
"It's Blue Star," the Thief answered.
"Yeah, that's it," the Mage agreed with a dismissive wave of her hand. "The fraud magic spell."
She turned around to look at the boy to continue her explanation but the street was completely empty.
"Where did the kid go?" the Mage asked, her brow furrowing.
"He ran away," the Thief replied while looking down the road. "He was so fast. I have a feeling he could become a Thief one day."
"Really?" The Mage tilted her head. "That kid was strange."
Chris had sprinted away the exact moment he heard the word fraud. He already heard what he needed to hear. The painful truth.
Days later, Chris walked out of his relatives' house. He found his four playmates gathered on the pavement. They were holding their own copies of the comic book he used to love so much.
One of the boys looked up and waved. "Chris, the latest volume is now available. Don't you have a copy yet?"
A second playmate reached into his pocket. "I will lend you coins if you don't have money."
The third playmate leaned closer, eagerly opening the fresh pages. He showed off the latest peak scene where Thrudora cast the Blue Star to defeat a scary dragon.
Chris snapped. He lunged forward, grabbed the comic book right out of the boy's hands, and threw it violently across the street. The paper slapped harshly against the dry ground.
The four kids gasped in pure shock. The owner of the thrown comic stepped forward, his face red with sudden anger. "What's your problem, Chris?"
Chris glared at the discarded pages. "That comic book is a lie. Thrudora is a fraud."
He paused to draw a heavy, ragged breath. His chest tightened painfully. "The Blue Star... does not exist."
To call their favorite comic book a lie and their hero a fraud felt like a big slap to their faces. The four kids became furious.
"Are you crazy?" the first boy yelled. "Thrudora is the greatest wizard ever!"
"You broke my comic book!" the second kid screamed. "I saved my coins for weeks to buy that!"
"If you do not like her anymore, just go away!" the third playmate snapped. "You are just jealous because you cannot cast magic!"
"We do not want to play with a liar!" the fourth boy shouted. "Do not talk to us again, Chris!"
Chris turned his back on them and walked away.
He wandered through the narrow alleys until he found a solid brick wall. He pulled his arm back and punched the rough stone with all his strength.
THUD-CRACK.
His knuckles cracked. The skin tore open, leaving blood on the wall. His hand hurt terribly, but his heart ached much more.
He leaned his forehead against the cold bricks. "If you only knew. I wanted it to be real. I wanted to believe the Blue Star existed. But it cannot be real."
Tears spilled over his eyelashes. He cried openly in the empty alley. The warm, loving image of his mother flashed in his mind. He remembered her gentle voice clearly.
For me, I believe her story is true. I believe she is real.
That memory broke his heart into a thousand pieces.
"Mom, I'm sorry," Chris choked out between heavy sobs. "I cannot visit your grave. I... I have no face to show you."
He wiped his eyes aggressively with his sleeve. "What story could I tell you if I face you? That the Blue Star does not exist? That the story of Thrudora which gave you inspiration was a lie? I can't. Mom. I can't."
At this exact moment, Chris finally knew the truth. He could not fulfill the promise he made on her deathbed. The dream of his mom would forever remain unfulfilled.
He slid down the wall and sat on the pavement, crying until his throat went dry.
A few months later, Chris registered as an Adventurer. Almost three decades passed since that day, but he never visited his mother's grave.
---
Present day in Voragale
The moment the Healer stumbled into the tent bleeding, Chris knew she had rushed in with a panicked mind. She was a Healer, yet she had not closed her own wounds, even though she could have done it in less than a second. To a highly logical person like Chris, that omission alone showed how severe the situation was.
Chris noticed the elf was somehow still sleeping in the middle of the chaos, but what confused him more was the young black-haired Mage, Lumina. She grabbed three spherical pieces of metal that looked like iron balls and stuffed them into her backpack. Each one was roughly twenty-five centimeters in diameter.
Iron balls? Chris thought. What would a Mage do with those? She really is weird.