The moon hung high in the sky, casting its silvery glow over the ancient castle of Hogwarts, and over the peaceful village of Hogsmeade.
"Lumos!"
A flash of light pierced the darkness in the small wooden cottage, illuminating the simple furnishings and even revealing the spiderwebs quietly hidden in the corners.
It was another attempt. Another round of practice.
But this time—
The light didn't flicker out like it had before. Instead, it held steady at the tip of Ian's wand. After countless repetitions and slowly building his skill, Ian had finally grasped the basic essence of this introductory spell.
The glow from his wand wasn't sunlight—it was a manifestation of a wizard's inner light, the projection of one's soul.
Yes.
That was the essence of the Lumos Charm.
Or at least,
that was the understanding Ian had managed to piece together.
"A world ruled by thought over matter…"
Even though he had mentally prepared himself for the strangeness of magic, truly casting his first spell still struck Ian with a deep, emotional weight.
All magic,
he now realized, came from within.
It was the power of belief.
He'd heard those words before—some vague explanation of how magic worked. But now, with his newfound insight, they felt more real than ever. His understanding seemed to naturally resonate with that idea.
Maybe,
once he'd mastered enough spells and pushed his skills far enough, he'd uncover the truth behind magic's origin—and finally solve its greatest mystery.
"But there's still a long road ahead."
Ian rubbed his temples as a wave of tiredness hit him. Magical fatigue, most likely.
Although—
It wasn't like he felt his magic being depleted. There was no measurable drop in energy. It was more like the exhaustion that came from staying up too late.
It was clear now—
Magic didn't function like a video game where MP dropped with every spell. Magical fatigue was more like a dullness, a tired kind of emptiness that could only be relieved through rest.
It was like physical stamina, not mana.
Just as muscles tire with use, magical energy seemed to soften and wear out after strain, recovering slowly with time.
"Still, at least I've got Lumos now. It's getting late… Time to wrap up."
This weariness—like being sleep-deprived—was actually helpful. It meant he could fall asleep more easily. Otherwise, with everything that had happened today and the rush of finally casting magic, sleep would've been impossible. Like a kid trying to sleep the night they get their first game console.
This magical fatigue worked better than any sleeping pill.
The bed was clean and freshly made, a faint lavender scent still lingering in the sheets. Someone had clearly changed them not long ago—saving Ian the effort. After a quick shower, he slipped under the covers.
Outside,
the sound of running water blended with the soft croaks of frogs. Even in his magical exhaustion, Ian couldn't resist checking his panel one last time.
Like a child double-checking that their new toy hadn't disappeared.
Name: Ian Prince
Class: Bloodline Warlock
Magic Power: Level 4
Skills:
Lumos (Level 1): 1/100
Language Proficiency (Level 4): 743/800
Biological Dissection (Level 5): 69/1600
Free Combat (Level 3): 86/400
Psychology (Level 6): 84/3200
Extraordinary Traits:
Psychology – Thought Perception
Biological Dissection – Butcher's Instinct
Lumos had officially reached Level 1.
One step closer to unlocking an Extraordinary Trait.
His current magic level—Level 4—wasn't especially impressive. But Ian wasn't worried. It was well known that a young wizard's magic power would grow rapidly with age.
Raw power wasn't the challenge.
It was mastery—understanding magic and using it—that determined true strength.
"Looks like that old wandmaker wasn't exaggerating. I really am going to be an exceptional wizard," Ian thought, a small smile forming.
And honestly—
With a system like this, his path to learning magic was inherently easier. Every increase in proficiency came with an accompanying flash of clarity.
Raising a spell from Level 0 to 1 brought an almost mystical awareness—as if some hidden truth had just revealed itself.
It was undeniably a cheat.
A gift that no other wizard could dream of having.
Most wizards learned spells by rote: reciting textbook lines, copying gestures, following procedures passed down over generations.
Ian's approach was different.
With each cast,
he moved closer to truly understanding the essence of the spell—the very magic beneath the incantation.
That was what set him apart.
He wasn't just learning to cast spells.
He was learning magic itself.
Even seasoned wizards, long after graduation, still cast Lumos the same way they did in their first year—never grasping its underlying nature.
That was why wandless magic was so rare.
Incantations were shortcuts.
By speaking the spell's name, wizards activated its effects. But over time, they became dependent on those shortcuts.
To perform wandless magic?
You had to understand the core principle behind the spell.
Perhaps, in ancient times,
more wizards had sought out the deeper truths of magic. But in the modern world, filled with shortcuts and convenience, few had the patience for such pursuit.
Just as Muggles stopped writing letters when phones became the norm,
wizards, too, had abandoned deep exploration in favor of efficiency.
Truth was only ever pursued by the few.
Magic was no different.
"I wonder how far I'll need to go before I can cast a spell without even lifting a wand…"
With that thought, Ian let sleep take over.
Tonight,
he chose not to control his dreams.
And so,
what followed was a world more vivid and fantastical than ever before.