Today began a little stranger than usual.

“It is strange indeed. I do remember giving you several high grade soul cleansing potions. And yet, my instinct as a magic researcher is telling me that not a single thing has changed.”

Miss Clara scrutinized me with much puzzlement and interest. I could see an array of colourful potions behind her. I hastily averted my eyes away.

After the dreams went away, people’s hair and eye colour also returned to normal. Father did not come, but I had the white child and once in a while, the green-eyed kid also. Children had always been braver than adults.

When I was no longer distracted by people’s faces, I realized that Miss Clara had been following and observing me all along. She must have noted several of my rather aggressive actions into one of her thick parchment scrolls. What bewildered me was that such responses were expected from consuming those potions, which explained why she never gave me an antidote to all of those hallucinations and dreams I had been having.

What on Earth was she feeding a child of less than two years old?

She inched her face closer to mine, and her leafy green eyes stared into mine. She was still speaking out loud to herself. I could be considered to be having a dialogue with her, just without me being able to respond in words. However, it must be quite embarrassing for an adult to be seen monologuing in front of an infant. Was that the reason why the door was always, without fail, locked? Or was it for a different reason..

..If something happened, I would not be able to scream anyway.

“Your eyes are so pitch black, they do not seem like they belong to an infant. You are responding to my gaze with such calmness that it is eerie. I suspected that you may be possessed by a lingering spirit, but how strong must that spirit be to survive all of those holy-powered soul cleansing potions? Or could it be a divine sign? But the Child of the God of Darkness has already been found. And there’s no divine crest on your body either.”

Why did she immediately link me to being a child of the God of Darkness, out of all the Gods? Was this discrimination for having black eyes?

Miss Clara talked to herself a lot. She must have taken comfort in the fact that I could not give a sarcastic response to her rambling (yet), so she very liberally shared with me her frustration and complaints at basically everything that was not related to magic.

I learnt that she was once the strongest Cleric grade holy maiden. Just to clarify, the hierachy in the Temple was Pope, Arch Priests, Priests, Clerics, Apprentices, from strongest to weakest. The strongest Cleric grade might not sound like much, but consider that out of around 500 temple fighters, 300 were Apprentices and 150 were Clerics. Being the top of Clerics meant...Miss Clara was at least in the top 50 in terms of fire power in the whole of the Temple army.

It made me wonder how they measured the relative fighting power of “clerics” and “priests” when they should be using their holy power to heal instead of kill. (Unless my theory before was not wrong and they could actually sear people to death using magical healing)

From what I’ve heard, it seemed Apprentices, especially the more advanced ones, were supposed to go hunt evil spirits or demons as part of their daily task. And Clerics, as opposed to their names, were the one leading the hunt on some of the more challenging demons that Apprentices could not finish off themselves.

Seemed like being in the Temple was pretty dangerous business. There was a price from being fed and protected by the Temple’s enormous funds and firepower after all. It really was not as if the Temple was this huge multiregional corporation that was making the lowest group in the hierachy work like slaves.

This feeling of being the underdog...was pretty nostalgic.

“Charlotte? What are you thinking of on your own again? Since you’re not that interested, we’ll just get to it right the way. After all, you’ll get to understand it first hand.”

Wait, what? We’re doing something today?

In the wake of my horror, I was picked up by Miss Clara. We went over to a secluded space in her room, where the sun light from outside was streaking in. That was, until Miss Clara pulled the curtains in one clean stroke and the place was shrouded in semi-darkness.

This area of the room was not covered in the rug like other parts, and the stone floor was left bare. There was a strange scarcity of furniture around, and the stone floor looked well-swept and...shiny smooth like a black board. I could see a white chalk circle with very detailed curvy patterns inscribed in it on the stone floor. Around the circle, as I could make out in the darkness, were crystals of varying colours like rainbow.

As I was marvelling over the spectacle, I missed the chance to resist as Miss Clara put me down at the centre of the circle. I could crawl my way out, but I had a feeling something similar to the two times I had experienced magic would happen again if I did that.

...Judging from my luck with magic so far, I think something would still happen regardless of my feeble attempt to escape. So I should at least keep everything stable for now so I could safely pinpoint what went wrong later.

And I had Miss Clara around. Everything should not be so bad this time.

Miss Clara told me not to move, and simply placed a strange marble into my hand. She looked at me with a strangely excited look, before strangely calming down again. She patted my head once, looking strangely gentle as she did so.

I was slightly panicked over the change in her attitude. Over the past few weeks of our apprenticeship, it was the first time she showed such an expression. I was contemplating whether it was a rare kindness in view of what was going to happen to me.

The marble in my hand shone in a sheer white colour, like pasteurized milk.

Miss Clara went over her desk, and picked up two bottles, one green and one orange. She gulped them down and then put on a pair of black gloves. She walked over to me again, her eyes one shade more vivid than usual.

She connected her left and right palm at the fingertips and held them in front of her eyes. She began chanting in a low voice:

“God of Light, heed my call. Forgive this sinner as she humbly ask for your light and your guidance in infusing...power...limit...protection... .. .. Kerishiyata!”

I could not hear parts of her holy-sounding chant. I could feel its effects though. That invisible thing which used to be peacefully flowing around her body was now coiling around with her as the centre, but it was not generating magic. It was responding to her body, which now shone with a white sheen.

Then a single ray of light parted from the space between her black gloved hands.

It struck the outer perimeter of the chalk circle. The lifeless chalk line suddenly lit up like lanterns, and the surrounding crystals lit up one by one like a firework show. The invisible thing was now coiling aggressively around the circle, but like a typhoon, it was eerily still inside the circle. The crystals made a boundary that seemed to block out the raging current outside.

Miss Clara walked to the boundary of the circle, right in the midst of the typhoon. She neither flinched nor resisted. It was as if the current was not there, not physically perceived by her at all.

I learnt later that this current, this invisible thing, was called the external magic flow.

Inside the chalk circle, there were three smaller circles. They glowed for a moment, and suddenly blinding rays of light were emerging from them. And their destination, was the white marble in my hand. It lit up and shone in response to the light, like a miniature sun. I wanted to close my eyes against such blinding light to avoid having to wear glasses again. Then I realized I could still see the excitedly calm figure of Miss Clara and her room perfectly clear. It must not be a physical light here.

“YELP!”

Something searing flowed into my hands that were holding the small marble. The surface of the marble was cool like usual, but I could feel a torrent of heat flowing up my arms. The sudden intrusion had compelled me to utter such baby-like words that I was struck to silence by my own embarrassment.

The heat was intense to the point of numbness, but I could not let go of the marble, the source of the agony. Not only did the marble feel cool to the touch as some sort of balancing force to the searing pain in my arms, but I had a feeling, when I saw Miss Clara’s fixed eyes upon my hands, that I was to never let go of the little marble until this whole ordeal was over.

Magic, could be so painful.

The heat spread to my chest, my legs, my head. It was hot and numb everywhere on my little body, but it was warm at my chest. Even if every part of my body was numb like a boiled dumbling, the warmth in my chest never exceeded the tolerable level. My head was also searing. The cave of my eyes was dry yet it was hot like waterfall was going to gush out. My own breath was like dry ice on my hand, before evaporating away into nothingness.

Then slowly, as if stopped time started moving again, my chest began to heat up. I was struck with a sense of panic. Was this my limit, I wondered to myself. As if responding to my question, there was a thin crack on the marble in my hands. The crack, closer to a slice, cut cleanly across the marble surface. The sheen on it started to wane, followed by the light of the chalk circle. I knew that it was finally over.

The heat in my chest was still rising, though very slowly. I could still feel the heat across my body though. Was it not supposed to recede or something? I could imagine handling a toasted baby would be so troublesome for the caretaker lady. Milk would evaporate upon contact with my face. That was how hot I thought it was.

Unless, like the light, it was not a physical sort of heat. This pain, was also not real.

The marble was still glowing lightly. I reckoned that the ritual would only be truly over once it returned to its glowless glory. I wonder if I could quicken its pace by creating more cracks or something. Miss Clara suddenly squared her gaze on me. She must have sensed my intention. What a sensitive master.

Of course, judging from my luck with magic so far, I did not have the bravery to try it. It was better that I escaped from this unscathed (from both the magic and my teacher). It would be such a waste to end my life when I was yet to utter a single meaningful phrase in my second life.

The light was almost out in the marble. The external magic flow was also slowing down. Miss Clara was still fixing her stare on me. Anytime now...

..

..

.

BANG!

The door, the firmly shut door, was banged open. It was an explosion in the midst of silence. Miss Clara turned her head to the source with such a force that it could break a wall.

Standing at the lit entrance, was a young boy. A child.

A heap of brown hair. A familiar shade of brown.

A sudden gush of something filled the back of my eyes at that sight.

The marble exploded to bits in my palm.

...