The Rothsfield Barony.
A small domain in the southern reaches of Aetherion, within the region of Eldoria. Months ago, a commission had been issued from the barony—requesting a private tutor for their youngest child, Lawine Rothsfield.
At the time, they hadn’t thought much of it. Weeks passed. Then months. And eventually, the commission was all but forgotten.
But then a letter arrived.
It stated that someone, unexpectedly, had taken up the request, and would be arriving tomorrow.
And that day… was today.
“I hope you behave yourself, Lawine,” came the gentle warning.
The eight-year-old swallowed hard, standing stiffly beside his older brother. All the house staff had gathered at the estate entrance, lined up in formation to welcome the approaching guest who had just entered the front gates.
It didn’t take long before he stood before them, luggage in hand.
“Welcome to the Rothsfield Barony,” Edward Rothsfield greeted, stepping forward with a welcoming smile. “I am Edward Rothsfield. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Professor—?”
“Vanitas Astrea.”
“I see. Professor Astrea.” Edward gave a respectful nod. “We’re grateful you’ve come all this way.”
Vanitas returned the nod with a calm gaze. “I appreciate the welcome, Lord Rothsfield.”
It had been instructed that Vanitas was not to reveal his true title as a Marquess.
The Rothsfield Barony was relatively distant from the capital’s political intricacies. Outdated in its ties to the higher nobility, the barony rarely participated in aristocratic circles.
It was, for all intents and purposes, a quiet countryside domain.
Edward turned slightly, placing a hand on the small shoulder beside him. “And this here is the student you’ll be tutoring, my younger brother, Lawine.”
Lawine peeked up at Vanitas for a second.
“….”
Their eyes met. And in that instant, Lawine flinched.
“…!”
He immediately lowered his gaze and shrank back, inching behind his brother and gripping the back of Edward’s coat tightly.
“….”
Vanitas blinked, momentarily caught off guard. There was no greeting from the boy.
Lawine clung tightly to his brother’s sleeve, hiding most of his face behind Edward’s side.
Edward chuckled softly and patted the boy’s head. “He’s a little shy around strangers, I’m afraid.”
“…I see,” Vanitas said, keeping his tone neutral. “Then I’ll do my best to earn his comfort.”
Edward smiled, clearly relieved by the professor’s calm reaction.
“We’re grateful for your understanding. Come, I’ll show you to the guest quarters. Your room has already been prepared.”
Vanitas gave a polite nod, his eyes flicking one last time toward the small figure hiding behind his brother.
“….”
* * *
Lawine was a frail boy. His weak body made it impossible for him to attend school like other children his age. As a result, he grew up sheltered and his education was entrusted to a rotation of private instructors and home tutors.
But there was one subject Lawine had always longed to study.
Magic.
Their late father, the previous head of the Rothsfield Barony, had been a brilliant mage. And their mother had shown exceptional talent with the sword. Both of them had perished three years ago during a sudden demon attack, leaving Edward and a then five-year-old Lawine to fend for themselves.
Since that day, Edward had assumed the heavy responsibility of both raising his younger brother and inheriting the title of Baron.
Lawine still remembered those fleeting moments of wonder, watching his father cast spells in the garden, conjuring lights and flame as if it had come out of a dream. To Lawine, it was magic in the purest, most beautiful form.
And he had dreamed of becoming just like him.
A great mage.
But reality, as always, had been less kind.
Due to his condition, Lawine couldn’t attend a formal academy. Edward had done everything he could, hiring private tutors to bring magic into their home.
Yet every instructor left with disappointment in their eyes.
No matter how hard he tried, Lawine could not grasp the fundamentals of magic.
And one by one, the tutors gave up on him.
The light in Lawine’s eyes had dimmed a little each time.
“Remember to always take your medication on time, Lawine,” the local physician reminded gently, kneeling beside the boy.
Lawine sat quietly on a cushioned chair near the window, his small frame wrapped in a shawl. His hands trembled slightly as he accepted the bottle.
The doctor patted him on the head with a smile. “You’re doing well. Just take it easy, alright? Don’t overexert yourself.”
As the physician stood and stepped out, Lawine turned his gaze to the garden beyond the window from his room.
It was the same place his father used to practice magic. The same place Lawine once imagined himself standing with a staff in hand.
But that dream felt impossibly far away.
Truth be told, Lawine had already given up. He no longer believed magic was something meant for him.
So when word came that a new tutor had arrived, it took him by surprise.
That scary person…
Surely, he would leave too.
Just like all the others.
Just like their parents.
“Cough! Cough…!”
Lawine coughed.
* * *
It didn’t take long for the first tutoring session to begin.
Beneath the soft shade of a garden canopy, with sunlight filtering through the leaves, Lawine sat stiffly beside his new and intimidating instructor.
“Repeat after me,” the man said, tone firm. “It’s Professor Vanitas Astrea. You will refer to me as Professor, understood?”
“….Y-Yes,” Lawine managed to whisper.
That scary gaze made it hard for Lawine to look the man in the eye.
Vanitas nodded, satisfied. “Well then. Let’s get started.”
He set his suitcase down, flipped it open, and began pulling out several thick, complicated-looking textbooks.
“First, we need to assess your level,” Vanitas continued, placing a set of papers on the small table between them. “I’ll need you to solve a series of questions for me. Is that alright, Young Master?”
Lawine stared at the pages; two full sheets, front and back, densely packed with symbols and diagrams he could barely follow at first glance.
Still, he gave a small, reluctant nod.
“….Yes.”
Vanitas sat back and handed him a pen.
“No time limit,” he said. “Just try your best. I’ll be observing.”
Lawine took the pen with both hands, holding it like it was heavier than it actually was. His eyes scanned the first problem.
It was already a wall.
“….”
Still, he lowered his head and began to write.
“….”
No, time passed, but Lawine’s pen remained suspended above the paper.
His eyes darted over the problems, feeling confused and overwhelmed. These weren’t like anything he had studied before. They were far more complicated with symbols and terms he didn’t recognize.
“….”
His grip tightened on the pen.
“What’s wrong?” Vanitas asked.
Lawine’s hand trembled slightly. “A-Are these…. the basic questions?”
Vanitas leaned forward. “Yes. These are what I consider foundational. They’re designed to help me understand your level.”
“….”
Lawine swallowed hard and looked down again.
[If the convergence point of the first layer, with each fluctuation at a delta-phase frequency of three parameters, is cast within a double layer parameter, calculate the residual mana stability index over a span of four lunar cycles. Assume ambient mana decay follows a logarithmic curve. Show your work.]
The terms blurred together.
This was not basic elementary level.
“I… I can’t,” Lawine muttered, voice barely audible. “I’m sorry, professor…. I don’t understand any of this…”
“Is that so?” Vanitas replied. “Then skip over what you don’t understand.”
“….”
Lawine hesitated, then slowly shifted his gaze to the next set of questions.
His heart sank.
They were even more complex than the last.
Complex diagrams of mana circuits wrapped around paragraphs of theoretical scenarios. Calculations involving imaginary constructs. Spells tied to advanced elemental essence.
It might as well have been written in another language.
His hand began to shake again.
“I… I can’t do this either….”
Vanitas didn’t sigh. He didn’t scoff. He simply stood, walked over to the table, and picked up the test.
“I thought so,” he said.
Lawine winced, already expecting him to walk away like the rest.
“….”
But Vanitas didn’t.
Instead, he took a fresh sheet of paper from his bag, placed it on the table, and wrote a single sentence at the top.
[What do you know?]
He slid the paper over to Lawine.
“This is your first lesson,” Vanitas said. “Write down everything you do know. Anything about magic. Even if it’s just one word.”
Lawine looked at the blank page.
Then at Vanitas.
He didn’t see disappointment in the man’s expression. Just a calm, indifferent gaze.
Lawine’s trembling hand slowly lowered the pen to the paper. For a long moment, he simply stared at the blank sheet.
Then, carefully, he began to write.
A few minutes passed before he finally looked up.
“I’m finished… Professor,” he whispered.
Vanitas gave a small nod, reached over, and took the paper.
His eyes scanned the short sentence written in a small, uneven handwriting, fitting an eight year old.
[Magic is a form of art that connects people. It remembers us, even when no one else does.]
“….”
* * *
The next day, during their second session, Vanitas began with a detailed explanation of the human body’s magical framework.
“Listen closely, Young Master,” Vanitas said, drawing a rough anatomical sketch on the paper spread out between them. “This is the mana core. It resides in the center of the chest, just behind the heart. It’s the origin point for all mana in your body.”
Lawine leaned in, eyes wide with curiosity.
“From the core, mana travels through a network of channels we call mana veins. They run through your limbs, your spine, your muscles… everywhere. But most importantly, they extend to your fingertips.”
He tapped the sketched hands on the parchment.
“The fingertips serve as the most common medium for releasing mana into the world. This is where spells take form. Where your will meets the world.”
Lawine nodded slowly, absorbing every word.
“But it’s not enough just to have mana flowing,” Vanitas added. “You need to control the current. If the flow is unstable, the spell fails, or worse, it backfires. That’s why you must first learn to feel the mana in your body and sense how it moves through your veins.”
He reached into his coat and retrieved a small crystal orb which was no larger than a plum.
“This is a sensory orb,” Vanitas said, setting it in front of Lawine. “It reacts to mana. Your task is simple. Channel just enough mana through your fingers to make it glow.”
Lawine nodded as he extended his hand, his fingertips hovering just above the orb. Then, closing his eyes, he began to focus inward, drawing his attention to the center of his chest, to the warmth he knew was there.
His previous instructors had taught him this part many times.
He could feel the mana.
When he opened his eyes….
“…”
The orb remained dark.
“Try again.”
“…Sorry,” Lawine whispered.
He closed his eyes once more and repeated the process.
“….”
Still… nothing.
“Again.”
Lawine swallowed and followed the professor’s instructions. His small fingers trembled slightly now.
Again he searched for the flow, the warmth, the pulse of mana he could feel deep inside, but no matter how many times he tried to push it outward, to reach his fingertips, the orb just wouldn’t glow.
“Again.”
“….Okay.”
He tried. Again and again.
“Cough! Cough…!”
But in the end, there was no progress.
Vanitas let out a sigh and began packing away the teaching materials. “Let’s stop here for today.”
He stood and turned, ready to leave the session behind, when a small voice stopped him cold.
“You should just… leave, Professor.”
“….”
Vanitas paused mid-step, his hand still on the strap of his case. Slowly, he turned back to look at the boy who had yet to meet his eye even once ever since they’d met.
“Why?” he asked.
Lawine gripped the edge of the table tightly, head lowered.
“Because I’m not worth teaching,” he whispered. “Everyone else thought the same….”
His voice cracked at the edges.
“….You don’t have to waste your time on me.”
Vanitas remained silent for a moment, before saying, “I see.”
He set his case back down on the table and sat back down in his chair.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
* * *
“I’m truly grateful for your patience, Professor. I know my request might seem odd… perhaps even presumptuous. But may I ask, what do you think of it?”
Inside the family head’s office, Vanitas sat across from Edward Rothsfield, casually sipping the freshly brewed coffee.
He set the cup down before answering.
“While it may not be my place to say,” Vanitas began, “it feels rather cruel to deliberately discourage the Young Master. I understand your concerns, but it won’t be a pleasant memory in passing. Not for you, and certainly not for him.”
Edward let out a quiet, bitter chuckle. “I suppose I’m a coward, aren’t I?”
Vanitas met his gaze directly. “You are.”
The honesty stung, but Edward didn’t flinch. He smiled faintly, more from shame than anything else.
“Lawine… is all I have left,” he said quietly. “I didn’t expect things to end up like this. At first, I thought it was simply a delay in his development. Children grow at different paces, right? But… I never imagined it would end up like this in the end….”
Vanitas set the cup down.
“I was hired as a home tutor, not a consultant, Lord Rothsfield—”
“You can drop the honorifics, Marquess Astrea,” Edward interrupted.
“….”
Vanitas paused, brows slightly raised.
Edward bowed his head in a show of respect. “Apologies. I had a background search conducted on you. I’m still new to this position, and wary of strangers entering the house. I hope I didn’t offend you.”
Vanitas leaned back, crossing one leg over the other.
“Nonsense. Caution is expected,” he replied evenly. “But now that you know, let’s make one thing clear. While I may be a Marquess, I am here as a professor. That is the only title that matters during my stay.”
Edward gave a small, appreciative nod. “….Understood.”
Vanitas folded his hands in front of him. “Now, to be completely honest with you, it all comes down to you, Edward. I don’t care how the boy sees me. I’ll do what is expected of me. But ask yourself this, do you really think it’s best for him if you choose not to fulfill his one wish?”
Edward’s fingers curled slightly on the desk.
Because he knew.
He knew exactly what Vanitas was referring to.
He had deliberately instructed every home tutor, every so-called “expert,” to complicate their lessons, to drown Lawine in theory and confusion until he gave up on his own.
Even Vanitas had been asked the same request.
“I’m just… afraid,” Edward said quietly. “Afraid his condition will worsen. Afraid that if he gets too invested, it’ll break him when the end comes.”
Vanitas narrowed his eyes slightly. “End?”
Edward exhaled slowly, then met his gaze.
“….Lawine is on borrowed time.”
“….”
For the first time, Vanitas said nothing.
He had been informed that Lawine suffered from a rare condition called Crystallized Wave Syndrome. A degenerative heart affliction caused by exposure to unstable mana while still in the womb.
The condition slowly turned the mana veins connected to the heart into crystal.
Eventually, they would stop pulsing altogether.
While there were known treatments, by the time Edward had discovered the illness, the disease had already progressed into its terminal stage.
Modern healing spells and alchemical therapies could only dull the pain. None could extend Lawine’s life, much less cure him.
“How long does he have left?” Vanitas asked.
Edward’s hands tightened slightly on the edge of his desk.
Edward’s next words….
“…A month.”
….Had him completely frozen in place.