I have to give credit to Ariostus. Amid the students laughing, he didn’t even frown. He just went on with the exercise so rigorously that he sucked the fun away from it. I can’t believe that this guy figured me out so fast. So, I proceeded to show all the students what they were supposed to do. Most are looking skeptical and are barely paying attention while I summon the three [Lights] around them and spin them.

See, I love this stuff. Some students clearly understand that even if it seems like a silly exercise, the fact that the nipples are the only different thing from the other [Light] makes the practice very difficult and efficient. They have noticed that there’s something more profound here, something that goes beyond silliness. They recognized the importance of this training even if they were shooting their arms out to grab boobs made of [Light].

What I find most interesting about this is how most female students seem to have figured out the importance of this kind of training before their male counterparts. I guess that this isn’t Columbia full of silly feminists. Also, I suppose that feminism has yet to be invented around here. If I recall correctly, Clodia, or maybe Flaminia… or maybe Camilla… I don’t remember who told me, but female Elves are pretty much up there with male Elves in the social hierarchies of this country. The fact that most Elves have an excellent aptitude for magic makes for a more level playing field. Apparently, men still hold more power than women, muscle-wise, even with the same classes and skills. That is, obviously, purely based on a raw strength level. In this world, though, raw strength is not as useful as you would think. Otherwise, Dragons would rule it. That’s cool – less disparity among men and women where it shouldn’t matter.

…

I see Anneus scowling and huffing while doing the exercise I gave out to the class. I summoned the [Lights] by the dozen, but I didn’t exactly cross his path. I come closer to him, trying to see why he looks so distressed. As I get near him, I can hear him murmur.

“This is so stupid,” he says with gritted teeth. “That flat-eared idiot.”

“Huh, someone badmouthing the [Professor] here? I should get a wooden paddle to slap your scrawny ass, Anneus.”

The guy almost jumps from his crutches. Yes, it looks as funny as it sounds. He stumbles for a second before looking over his shoulder and turning to look at me. There’s always the question of how much fun you can poke at a disabled person. Well, it depends on the disability, I guess. If the person has some kind of mental impairment that prevents them from fully understanding what’s happening around them, it’s not a good thing. And also, as long as they are happy, why ruin it for them? Would you go to New Jersey and tell the people the truth about who they are and where they live? No, you wouldn’t. Let them enjoy their little swamp, come on.

Wait, where was I going with this?

I don’t remember.

“—ridiculous.”

“What?”

“I said, this is ridiculous, Joey!”

“Oh, that’s the first time I hear you say my name, buddy. My real one, at least. It’s fine, though. Anyway, what’s wrong with the practice?”

“What do you mean what’s wrong?”

“I mean, what’s wrong? Don’t you think it’s effective? Don’t you see how it will bring results?”

“Results? Grabbing—”

“If anyone thinks this is beyond them, they can go!” I immediately shout to the rest of the class. The two [Archmages] went back to their towers after my lesson. Not Titus and Alonna, but the other two whose names I can’t recall. They are probably practicing behind closed doors, ashamed of being seen doing this exercise.

Some students, including the [Professors] who have come to practice, look uneasy. Grabbing boobs doesn’t seem like their favorite sport. Who knows, maybe there are more ass-people here than I imagined.

“Really, you can leave at any point. Maybe the [Dean], who’s currently doing the exercise without flinching, can even call back the incompetent idiot who had you practice the same Cantrips over and over. Why not, right? So, all those who have a problem with me, there’s the door—metaphorically, of course, we don’t have a door.”

I point back to the academy, turning right and left, waiting for someone to step away.

Smartly enough, no one does. Everyone, even those who were complaining – hell, even Anneus – doubles their effort and focus. The guy, using only one clutch to stand and the other to grab the [Lights], simply ignores me.

I like that.

But what I like even more is the fact that even the most adverse people here seem to have understood the secret lesson of today: things are not always what they seem. That’s one of the things that made me a great chef. Always ask twice, always experiment, always doubt and believe. It’s tiring, but it bears fruits very quickly. Always act as if the world had some secrets that no one has uncovered yet.

“Joey—sorry, Professor, I think I did it.”

I turn to look at Alba, who’s calling for me.

“You did it?” I ask, surprised. “Yes. I can feel the magic. It’s not easy, but I can—I think.”

“Show me, Alba, please.”

Many stop practicing to look at the shy Alba, blushing with her eyes closed. As soon as the [Light] boobs pass in front of her, she extends her furry arm and touches one, retracting the limb immediately, almost ashamed of her insane proficiency with magic. When she opens her eyes again, she looks at the ground, trying to ignore all the attention she’s just attracted.

Man, the Ahalis are very proficient with magic—wait, I think it’s the female Ahalis. Only the females. But if this is what the average talent looks like, I understand why they gave the Vanedenis so many problems. Also, better not mention this thought to Lord Juler.

“Did you get the skill?” I ask while walking toward her.

She nods in an awkward response, looking at the ground.

“Well,” I raise my voice with some Mana, “all those who manage to get the skill before the next lesson will be given instructions to practice the Cantrips. If you have the skill, you can start your practice. If you want to try your hand at [Advanced Mana Sense], you will have to do that on your own. The [Advanced] in any skill is a personal and subjective achievement, from what I gather. Try to look deeper into magic, and you might just get it. How? I don’t know! I cheated to get the skill!”

…

A frustrated Amelia is still grasping at empty air when I approach her. The lesson is almost at its end, but the woman has not made an inch of progress. She’s just randomly waving her hands around, touching more than one [Light] at a time.

“Yo, Amelia, are you sure you are trying to feel the magic? It looks like you are drunk or something.”

“My youngest son is much better at this than me,” she says with an amused pose, putting her arms on her hips like any other mother.

“Can you describe what you are trying to do?”

“I’m trying to feel the Mana! Wasn’t that what we were supposed to do?”

“Sure. But can you describe to me what you are doing? Like, how are you trying to feel the Mana?”

“I was trying to touch the Mana. Isn’t that—”

What?

Touch the Mana?

“What do you mean?”

“Like, feel the Mana with my hands. Isn’t it like feeling the breeze on your skin? Have I been doing it wrong?” her expression breaks into something uncertain, some deeper level of insecurity that she carries with her, hidden in her chest.

“For all I know, it could be right. But if you don’t have the right feeling from it, you can just try to imagine visualizing a spell matrix. Do you know how you have to picture a spell to cast it? And the better the mental representation, the better the spell? Well, try to focus on that feeling and just look. It should help.”

She forcefully shuts her eyes while contracting over half the muscles on her face. Even her tongue peaks from her mouth as the effort apparently ramps up.

“I see it! I see it!” she shouts so loudly that I can hear multiple people groan.

“You see it?”

With eyes still shut, she moves her hand toward the boobs, slamming them like a volleyball. Huh, I wouldn’t want this woman to play with my—you understand.

“HUH?! I GOT IT! I GOT THE SKILL!”

Amelia starts jumping up and down, then runs to hug me. I return the hug, happy for her. She has gone through enough shit, and a little win can surely help, no matter how small.

“Can you two shut up?!”

“Anneus! I made it!” Amelia ends our hug and walks to the sulky Elf.

“I don’t care, Amelia! I don’t give a bug’s antenna about whatever you are doing! Leave me alone!”

As Amelia laughs and clearly underestimates how frustrated Anneus is, she tries to touch his arm.

Wrong move.

Anneus whirls in place and starts shouting, completely beside himself.

“LEAVE ME ALONE! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!”

Amelia recoils from the overblown reaction, scared. Anneus has veins popping from his neck and forehead, with blood pumping wildly through them and bloodshot eyes. The funny thing is that I have Anneus’s file, and I know his life is just as miserable as it looks, which is good news, actually. Why? Well, it’s not worse than it looks, and not even much, much worse than it looks.

“I just—”

“LEAVE ME—”

[Silence]

It's funny how weird a person shrouded in a [Silence] spell looks.

“Well, that’s all for today. You can have breakfast before the next lesson or whatever. You’ll have to wait until the academy can provide all the enchanted plates needed for this exercise.”

…

I find many people boring. Super-boring, in some cases. It really depends, but I do hold some prejudice against how people talk and what their interests are. I can’t help it. If I see you with the British fellow’s film or book t-shirt, I’ll think that you are a hopeless nerd. I don’t know. I have this contempt for some stuff that is really hard to shake off. I don’t know how to explain it either.

When I was younger, I was even worse. I used to judge people like I judge books. Hell, worse than how I judge books. I gave books the benefit of the doubt – but that’s a privilege that I never dished out to people. Even today, I struggle to imagine what was right and what was wrong. Because what if people are boring? What if people are stupid? I have met people of all kinds and mindsets.

The biggest problem, though, is underestimating what someone is going through – or has gone through. You see a woman skipping the line at the airport – is she a mean bitch, or is she simply trying to catch a flight she’s about to lose? And do you let her skip the line? Do you ask why she needs to skip the line?

Who’s the real villain of the story when you assume everyone is a huge piece of shit? And, indeed, if you assume that everyone is, how do you live? What kind of wretched life are you conducting?

I look at an upset Amelia and bite my lower lip. We’ve gathered for a snack and to discuss the history essay. But I also need to do something about Anneus’s behavior.