Noa crouched behind the barn, pieces of chalk, stone plates, and wooden spoons scattered around him. He tapped a spoon hanging by a string, watching it swing like a pendulum above a bowl of water.
f = 1/2π √(k/m)
The formula was simple back home. Here, it was a shot in the dark.
The spoon stilled. The bowl didn't ripple.
"No reaction," Noa muttered, scribbling down notes on a wood scrap.
Maybe gravity here is different. Maybe it's not about physical laws at all.
"Noa!" his father's voice bellowed. "You better not be blowing something up back there!"
"Just testing something, Dad!" he called.
Tomir stepped outside with a rake in hand. "You've been back there for hours. Your mom thinks you're going to summon a devil or burn the shed down."
"I promise it's safe. It's… from a dream I had."
He kept his voice calm, but inside he was nervous.
I hope they buy that explanation. I can't exactly say I'm from another world where this is basic physics.
Tomir frowned. "Dreams don't fix broken dishes. Come in before supper."
That night, Noa sat by the hearth as Seri stirred the stew. He watched her reach toward the pot, whisper something, and make a small flick with her fingers. The fire danced higher.
The same thing she had done his first night in this world. He remembered how easily she'd lit the fireplace.
"Mom," he asked slowly, "that thing you do with the fire… is that magic?"
Seri glanced over her shoulder, then smiled. "You finally noticed?"
"I've noticed before. I just didn't know how to ask. That first night, when you lit the fireplace—I knew it wasn't normal."
She ladled soup into a bowl and sat beside him, wiping her hands. "It's called mana. It's in everything—air, earth, plants, animals. Most people can't control it, but some can feel it and bend it."
"Like you?"
"I was trained to. When I was young, I studied at Verdant Vale Institute. A school for potioncraft and botany. Didn't stay long—I left when I had Lio."
Noa blinked. "You went to a magic school?"
"For a little while, yes. I wasn't good at flashy magic, but I could make herbs grow faster, or soothe fevers."
He leaned in, intrigued. "So… magic is real. Not just tricks or illusions?"
Seri laughed. "Very real. But it's not something you can learn from books. You have to sense mana. It flows like wind—soft, subtle, and stubborn."
Noa looked at his hands, then at the pile of failed experiments in the shed.
So I've been trying to force magic with equations and momentum… when it's more like intuition and flow.
"Is there logic to it?" he asked. "Rules?"
"There is, but not in the way you're used to. Magic is part instinct. You guide it more with intention than numbers."
"Then I've been doing it all wrong," Noa muttered. "I've been using resonance, measuring weight, angles… nothing happens."
"You've been using what?" Seri asked, tilting her head.
Tomir entered, drying his hands. "He tied up my tools with string yesterday. Said he was making a wave system to shake stones."
Noa gave a sheepish shrug. "It made sense… in the dream."
It's a dream now, huh? Better than saying, "back on Earth, I had a lab."
Seri raised an eyebrow. "You might not be able to cast magic like that. Have you felt mana before?"
He shook his head. "No. I don't think so."
"Then you'll need training. Sensing mana is the first step."
"Where does one even learn that?"
Seri's eyes softened. "Magic schools. When kids reach a certain age, assessors visit the villages. If a child shows promise, they're invited to train."
"What do these schools teach?"
"Each one focuses on something different. Nature, healing, holy arts, elemental forces… it depends on your affinity."
"And everyone goes to school if they pass the test?"
"Not everyone. Magic is rare, and the Empire only accepts those with potential. If you pass, you're given a place."
Tomir snorted. "And if you're a noble brat, you're guaranteed in. Doesn't matter if you can't light a candle."
Seri gave him a look.
Noa leaned forward. "You said the Empire? They control the schools?"
Seri nodded. "All the major institutions are under the Empire's eye. Magic's too dangerous to leave unchecked."
Noa mulled over the information.
So this world has a governing structure for magic. Specialized institutions. And I've been fumbling with spoons like a fool.
"Do they accept people who are… different?" he asked.
Seri smiled knowingly. "If you can sense mana, they'll take you. But it's not easy."
Noa sat back.
So I've got to sense this mana first. That's the key.
Later that night, Noa sat in his usual spot behind the barn. The stars above looked the same, but everything else had changed. The chalkboard in his lap was filled with scribbles.
f = 1/2π √(k/m)
Δv/Δt = a
None of it mattered here.
"I've been trying to apply logic to a language I don't understand."
He stared at his hand, flexing his fingers.
Back on Earth, this would make sense. Here, I'm blind to the world's current. I don't even know what mana feels like.
He erased the formula and scrawled a question mark in its place.
Maybe it's not about formulas. Maybe it's about feeling.
He glanced back toward the warm light spilling from the cottage window.
I'll figure it out. Even if it kills me again. I'll understand this world—its laws, its forces… even its magic.