Time Cursed Mage - Chapter 6: Iris

Kaspar blinked in surprise. "Noble?" he repeated, his voice echoing softly against the damp cavern walls. 

"Yes?" the soldier responded, his tone tinged with puzzlement at Kaspar's reaction.

"What makes you think I'm a noble?" Kaspar asked, his curiosity piqued. He eyed the soldier thoughtfully, considering the implications. ‘Maybe I can pretend to be a noble,’ he mused inwardly. If being perceived as high-born could grant him certain advantages, it might be worth the ruse.

The soldier lowered his staff slightly, though he remained alert. "You're not a noble?" he questioned, skepticism evident in his voice. "It's that only nobles still bother to play with swords."

"Really? But swords are so cool," Kaspar replied, his eyes brightening with genuine enthusiasm. He had been watching action movies since he was a child. There was no way he could look at a sword and not feel powerful.

The soldier raised an eyebrow beneath his helmet. "... So either you're a noble or have gold to spare. Who else would waste time with a sword when they could be learning magic?" he challenged, his gaze unwavering.

Kaspar pondered his words. ‘So, to them, swords have become obsolete?’ he thought. Out loud, he said, "I understand. Still... I don't think I'm a noble."

"What do you mean you don't think? Either you are or you aren't," the soldier remarked, a note of impatience creeping into his voice.

Kaspar hesitated for a moment before deciding to take a risk. "Well, it's that I've lost my memory," he admitted, his expression earnest. ‘Worst case, they arrest me, and the cycle restarts,’ he considered. ‘At least he doesn't seem too hostile.’

The soldier tilted her head, his scrutiny intensifying. "Lost your memory?" he echoed. "That's quite convenient."

"It's the truth," Kaspar insisted. "I remember my name is Kaspar. That's all. Do you... know me, sir?"

The soldier's posture stiffened at his address. "First off, cut the sir crap," he snapped, a hint of irritation in his tone. Reaching up, the soldier swiftly removed his helmet. 

A cascade of short, raven-black hair tumbled free, framing a face set with striking, deep blue eyes.

Kaspar's surprise was evident as he realized the soldier was, in fact, a woman. Her face was sharp yet refined. A faint scar tracing along her right cheekbone added an air of hardened experience.

"Second," she continued, her gaze never leaving his. "You're Kaspar? As in, the Kaspar?"

"Actually, in your case, it's fair to say that you are and aren't a noble," the girl remarked, a hint of amusement in her eyes.

"How so?" Kaspar asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"Have you truly lost your memory? Have you considered speaking with one of the professors or officers?" she inquired, tilting her head as she studied him.

"They think I've gone mad. That's why I've been hiding," Kaspar lied smoothly, attempting to gauge her reaction. "Yes, I genuinely have lost my memory."

"That's unfortunate," the girl sighed, stepping closer. She settled herself on a nearby rock.

"Forgive me, what's your name? Now that you know mine," Kaspar prompted, both curious and hopeful. He thought, ‘If I end up looping back again, perhaps I can continue our conversation.’

She offered a slight nod. "Iris, Second Circle Mage," she introduced herself, a touch of pride evident in her tone.

"Hmm." Kaspar considered this. "Now that you know I have no memory, may I ask you some questions?"

Iris studied him thoughtfully. "It's still hard to believe, but if it doesn't get me into trouble, I can answer what I know." She perched on a higher boulder, drawing her knees up slightly. "But we need to be quick. My superiors will start looking for me when he notices I'm late for my patrol."

Kaspar paused for a few moments, contemplating which of his countless questions to begin with. There was so much he didn't understand, and time was short.

"What exactly is a Circle?" he finally asked.

Iris raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Wow, your memory really is gone," she remarked. "Circles are measures of Mana mastery."

Kaspar's expression remained puzzled, even more so than before.

"Sorry," she chuckled softly. "That's how they explain it in the academies." She extended her hand toward him. "Let me try to simplify it. Pay attention."

She drew a deep breath, her gaze steady and earnest. "Everything is made of Mana. It's the fundamental energy that exists everywhere. Think of it as the lifeblood of the world. Each person can process and manipulate different amounts of Mana and types of Mana. This ability comes from the Mana cores within our bodies."

As she spoke, Kaspar watched intently, absorbing every word.

"But raw energy alone doesn't do much," Iris continued. "The Circles represent your skill in channeling that Mana into spells. Each Circle you achieve allows you to perform more complex and powerful magic. With more Circles, you can better use Mana to create, change, or destroy."

To illustrate her point, Iris lifted her hand. Two luminous rings materialized around her wrist, orbiting gracefully. The circles were crafted from pure energy, shimmering with hues of azure and green. 

Kaspar hadn’t understood much, but it didn’t seem complex. ‘Core is like a battery; Circles are how well I can use the battery.’

Kaspar stared, amazed. "So those are... Circles?"

"Yes," she affirmed, smiling at his wonder. "These denote that I'm a Second Circle Mage. The more Circles a mage has, the greater their abilities."

"I see," Kaspar murmured. "But how does one get a Circle?"

"It's a combination of talent, study, and experience," Iris explained. "Advancing requires a deep understanding of Mana, rigorous training, and often a catalyst. A significant event or realization that expands your Circle’s amount."

He nodded slowly. "And without any Circles, a person can't use magic?"

"That's correct," she said gently. "Those without Circles are unable to manipulate Mana. They might sense it, feel its presence, but they can't command it."

Kaspar had hundreds of other questions, but he couldn’t help his curiosity about how magic worked.

"Would being a Second Circle mage be considered impressive?" Kaspar asked.

Iris paused, her expression revealing that his question had caught her off guard. Her blue eyes reflected a mix of surprise and something akin to pity. She brushed a stray strand of ebony hair behind her ear before responding. "No," she replied gently.

"Circles one through three are for beginners, common among the general population. Those who reach the Fourth and Fifth Circles are considered experts. But beyond that..." She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "Beyond that are the prodigies, the ones who border on legend. Sixth and Seventh Circle mages, there might be only a thousand or so in the world. Eighth Circle mages are rarer still; only ten people in the world have that mastery. As for the Ninth Circle, they've existed in the past, but as far as anyone knows, there are none alive today."

Kaspar absorbed this information. "Then why are you still at the Second Circle? Isn't there a way for you to advance?"

A shadow passed over Iris's face. She sighed softly, her gaze drifting to the cavern ceiling.

"Advancing in Circles requires extensive study and a deep understanding of Mana," she explained.

"It's not about raw power; it's about mastery and control. However, the higher Circle spells and techniques texts are either expensive or inaccessible. Some advanced tomes are guarded by powerful families, organizations, or kingdoms." She glanced back at him. "For example, your family is the only one known to own a book on Seventh Circle fire magic."

"My family?" Kaspar echoed, a flicker of hope igniting within him. "Who am I?" The question slipped out before he could catch himself.

Iris studied him carefully, her eyes searching his. "You're famous," she said finally. "Better yet, infamous would be more accurate." A wry smile touched her lips. "Kaspar von Hexenzeit. The 'false promise.'"

"Von Hexenzeit," he repeated, the name feeling foreign and strangely familiar in his mouth. He searched his memory, but it was like grasping at shadows; nothing solid came to him.

"Listen," Iris continued. "I won't pretend to know everything about you. There are many stories. Rumors spread from one city to the next, each more fantastical than the last. Whether they're true or not... only you can say. But perhaps it's best to hear them and decide for yourself."

He nodded slowly. "I appreciate your honesty. Please, tell me what you know."

Iris took a deep breath, her gaze distant as if recalling the tales. "The von Hexenzeit family is renowned, legendary, even. They are masters of fire magic, wielding flames with finesse and power that few can rival. One of your ancestors was so gifted that he became an Archduke purely on the strength of his abilities."

Kaspar felt a chill run down his spine. ‘An Archduke?’ He wasn't sure how the noble hierarchies worked, but that sounded significant. 'Is that a high rank?' he wondered but decided not to interrupt.

"After the founding of the house," Iris continued, "your family members continued to be powerful mages. With high Circle-level, though none quite matched the founder's prowess. They were respected, even feared, but the true brilliance seemed to have faded." She paused, her eyes reflecting a hint of sadness. "And then came the Promise."

"The Promise?" Kaspar asked.

"Yes," she affirmed. "Twenty years ago, Kaspar von Hexenzeit was born.”