Magic has no laws.

  This, universal truth, we have proven in our millennia of study. It is older than laws set by mortals and immortals alike. It moves as the stars even before any star were even named by any of the multitude of races that saw them. Older than any pattern, unbent by rule or reason.

  The bone mages of the Outer Tribes of the Vergary race, trade years of their own vitality for a moment’s blaze of power, their art carved into flesh and marrow. On distant worlds, the Cardmancers weave entire grand magics through painted graphs and runes, each card a covenant, the price, the slow erosion of their morals, sanity, their very selves.

  No two paths are the same.

  Through every age, the learned and the desperate alike have sought to give it structure — and failed. Yet necessity breeds stubbornness. When our world was threatened, stubbornness became our method even as we know our likely destination was utter madness.

  It was in the long shadow of the Great Enemy that the Order undertook one of our greatest endeavors: to understand the ungovernable. Thus we, who call ourselves the Order, have spent millennia arranging that which will not be arranged.

  Our purpose was not to bind magic to set of rules it will not obey, for that is impossible, but to know it well enough to use it effectively, and gain insight on how we may best defend the world.

  With the Kosmic Guardians, as many call them, of course in their many different tongues, as intermediators, we were able to get close enough to the truth, that we managed to impress our benefactors.

  Of the countless variations of magic our expeditionary teams encountered, each was bound within the metaphorical boxes its wielders called law. Yet upon closer study, those so-called laws unraveled with ease, seams splitting, principles collapsing under their own contradictions.

  However, it was not our place to critique, but to gather. For centuries we gathered fragments, chants, rites, blood-inked tomes, whispers stolen from the dying. From this ocean of information and chaos, we had formed a solid structure and came to understanding magic than any of the races we had encountered.

  The Order devoted many generations to tracing that hidden architecture, the one that was so close to our fingertips. Countless scholars vanished into their own hypotheses, some consumed by revelation, others by despair. For every theory proposed, another collapsed.

  From the ruins of contradiction, the Order assembled its greatest accomplishment — that the boundless art could, in some small way, be understood. Our research, conducted over centuries and paid for in sanity and blood, led to a revelation both enlightening and profound.

  Yet through endless refinement, and sheer force of will, the chaos that was magic, began to resolve into form. Slowly, painfully, through countless iterations, the immeasurable became divisible, and boiled down to three simple categorizations.

  Contract. Structure. Will.

  -excerpt from, Magic: Our Lies, Our Secrets, Our Truths, Volume 1, by Ursula de Martine, Teacher, Historian, Mentor, and member of the Order.

  Editor’s Note: The following excerpt has been translated from the original manuscript dated 1072 CE.

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  Sometimes I think sleep is a domain where clocks are nonexistent and the pillows whisper state secrets. I often go there invited, carrying nothing, not a thought inside my head and a pair of socks on my feet. But on the off chance that I do go there with socks, it’s bound to be an epic level of sleep.

  It is Valhalla. Every night I fall gloriously in battle against consciousness, sword dull, mind loud, and yet the sheets rise like gates to a hall of infinite pillows. The air smells faintly of yesterday’s dreams and something heroic—maybe laundry detergent.

  Hells, you don’t even have to be a magic supreme grand councilor ultra titanic jumbo elder cultivator or supreme heavenly grand immortal gigantic ultra hyper heavenly giga mega demon or super magic outer space wizard mage meister warlock, or giga grand wahoo alchemist of interdimensional galactic poohbah, or even supreme rune artificer of the seventh heavenly nebula hells, or certified practitioner of whatever nonsense keeps the plot moving, to have your own little private domain.

  No mystical powers, or wearing robes requirements or anything fancy. Just you, closed eyes, and the world.

  You not only float up but also sideways, which sounds weird but, somehow feels right. Sleep is not rest as many say it is, it is negotiation with the universe, where you promise to remember everything just before you lay your head on a pillow, then you can forget all of it again in the morning, but worse.

  The fact that I am somewhat semi-conscious right now is a minor setback. But I am committed to honoring the timeless tradition of yeeting my half-conscious mind in the direction of the sweet oblivion between dreams and daylight.

  Time to go back to my own little slice of paradise.

  Back to—Valhalla.

  BAAAAAM!

  CRASH!—tinkle-tinkle-tinkle!

  “AEEEE!”

  —and it’s gone.

  In that instant, I already knew who the hell was screaming this early in the morning. But that crash just now, I wondered what was it? I don’t remember putting up any glass item there.

  “Grrrrrrrrrrrrrr,” I gave a low growl as an answer. I slowly, to the best of my abilities pulled the sheets around me tightly and curled up even more.

  “AE! Wake up! It’s already noon.” Reika demanded again.

  …Ok, it might not be early in the morning, but it is early for me.

  “Ok, let’s get him up,” said another voice softly. In my grogginess I could not make out who that belonged to, so I ignored it.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  A moment later, I felt two strong hands grabbed my ankles and yanked me down with alarming enthusiasm, nearly dragging me off the bed. I turned around and looked at my assailants. Not that I am surprised to see them, but—

  “How did you find me?” I asked the two she-things.

  “We have our sources,” Shizuku replied, giving me an unimpressed look.

  “Come on and get up, Ae. It’s already lunch time,” Reika said before she grabbed my arm and began pulling me up. Without waiting for an invitation, her best friend also decided to help out by grabbing my other arm and doing the same.

  I figured the best way for them to let me go was to let them pull me up, so I obliged. After I got off the bed, they indeed let me. After that I searched for the glass thing that fell only to find a picture frame broken by the door.

  Now I have to order room service to clean up my room. Not only that, I have to debug it again! Hells, who even thought of putting this thing here!? I don’t even like portraits, much less pictures of horses. It’s got to be Kat, among my idiots she’s the one who likes horses.

  This feeling that is brewing inside me right now, how to best describe it? It's like waking up early for you to have a bowel movement. Yeah. Not the best feeling.

  “Okay, explain to me, clearly, how does you wanting to get lunch, equate to you barging into my room and waking me up?” I grumbled as I rubbed my eyes and followed them outside.

  “Mother and Father said we should wake you up.”

  Reika’s reply made me pause.

  “Girl, who are you calling mother and father?” I demanded but all I got was her sticking out her tongue. I could only grumble at this level of annoyance but if it goes any further, I might throw something.

  I yawned deeply, though not forgetting to cover my mouth. Last night was fun, very fun. Somewhere during the middle of that game Yuki brought out the food he bought. And he bought a lot. There were also drinks. Also booze, both hard and soft. All in all, we had a good war and won.

  Then someone mentioned shooters and fighting words, then it was call of duty—and yelling. Like little girl’s level yelling. If any of the people you play with, shout and scream like that then you know it was going to be a good match. I walked out of my bedroom and saw Trayn awake, but still lying on the sofa.

  Taka was sitting crossed legged on the carpet, his pillow and the blanket he used, already tidied up and placed on top of a chair. Same for my brother, but he was standing, talking to my parents about something at the back, near the door. Can’t see Remy or Yuki around.

  I suppose they went to their duties, whatever those maybe. Everyone was still wearing their clothes from last night—all save for Arthur. There were also other 7 other people here, but I had to address the elephant in the room.

  “What are you wearing?” I asked Arthur in English while raising one eyebrow.

  “Oh these? Well, I woke up at around 9, and Remy said the group was going out,” he replied cheerfully. “Nothing major, we just scouted the route for tomorrow.”

  “No. Not that,” I said while staring at him up and down. “I meant your clothes.”

  “What’s wrong with my clothes?” he asked, his brow furrowing before turning to look at Trayn. “It’s fine right?”

  He was wearing a grey shirt, light brown pants, a faded light blue leather jacket, and a beanie.

  “Who’re you kidding, you look two minutes away from saying, ‘I just came from church so let’s circle up and pray it out.”

  Trayn laughed and leaned on the couch. “I told him he looks like some youth pastor.”

  Arthur in a fit, removed his jacket and threw it at his best friend, before angrily doing the same to his beanie. I left the two to sort out whatever they were doing, throwing clothes at each other, and got my phone from one the chairs. After I turned around my parents came up to me.

  “So, how did you manage to get a room like this?” he asked in Japanese.

  “Meh, paid extra,” I replied with a shrug which made him sigh.

  “Of course you did,” he said tiredly while running a hand through his hair. He then turned to face Reika. He gently took her hands.

  “Young lady, Reika, if you need anything, anything at all, be it money, or support, just let me know.” He said softly. “You already have my card, yes?”

  “Yes, father. And please don’t worry,” she replied brightly. “If it’s not too much of a bother, I’ll call even if I don’t need anything.”

  My father nodded resolutely before he jabbed a finger in my direction.

  “You can also bother him as much as you want,” he grumbled tiredly. Well now, that won’t do.

  “You know father, I was joking last night, but if you are that tired, this hotel has an acupuncture clinic as well as a spa station,” I said after I got a thorough look at him. To his right, however, my mother’s eyes lit up.

  “And whose fault do you think it is that I am this tired?” he asked, his words dripping with sarcasm.

  “Well, since both of you still have my card,” I said pointedly.

  He was about to open his mouth to retort, but mother silently wrapped her arms around his. He sighed, defeated.

  “Fine. We’ll use it, then,” he said, and the two turned to leave.

  “Not too much, I hope,” I said, feeling nervous that my finances might suddenly get dented.

  When they were at the door, something occurred to me.

  “Also, I expect the next one to be a girl.”

  “Shut up! Mind your own business!” he shouted back, going red in the face, before slamming the door behind him. Everyone else in the room had small smiles from that small interaction.

  “Your mom’s real pretty,” Shizuku mused while looking around the room. “It’s understandable your dad’s incredibly sweet to her.”

  “Yeah, well, easy enough to know what happened to those two. Mom fell first, but father fell harder,” I replied while setting my phone down on a chair and opening a game called, FGO. “Though the two didn’t exactly start on good terms.”

  “It’s mommy, isn’t it?” Shizuku teased which made everyone snicker. I gave her a scathing glare, but I must not be distracted. There is a banner open and I must roll for it.

  “What do you mean?” Trayn asked curiously. He had already gotten up from the sofa and was stretching.

  “Well, both of them met at Singapore, and became something like rivals,” I said then knelt down in front of the chair where my phone was. “Mom thought that father was an arrogant pompous ass, and he thought she was know-it-all try hard.”

  Everyone was a bit surprised at my statement strangely enough even my brother. I suppose it’s not every day you get to know what your parents thought of each other before marriage.

  “Wow, really?”

  I turned to him. “Yes, really. Bruv, you should really ask such things.”

  “But I might end up like you,” he said with a teasing smile. “Getting hit all the time, so no thanks.”

  That’s—fair, I guess.

  “If that’s the case how did this,” Arthur said, gesturing to both of us brothers. “Happened then? Did you just, pop out of the ground or something.”

  I didn’t reply instead, I pressed the summon button then, closed my eyes and clapped my hands together.

  Nōmaku saraba tatagyateibyaku saraba bokkeibyaku sarabata tarata senda makaroshada ken gyaki gyaki saraba bikin an un tarata kan man.

  Everyone was startled when I suddenly did this instead of answering the question.

  But why am I chanting the Great Mantra of Acala while kneeling in front of my phone, you ask?

  Duh! Praying to the RNG gods. Heck at this point, I am praying to anyone who’ll listen.

  Come on J.C., help ya boi out! I slightly opened my eyes.

  “Well, that summoning was a bust,” I said standing up and sighing. Maybe next time.

  “Your level of weirdness just increased,” Shizuku deadpanned.

  “I also sometimes do a ritual every time I summon something,” Takashi said looking amused as he, fixed his glasses with one hand. “But never to that extent. I don’t even know any chants.”

  “Yeah, my brother’s weird like that,” agreed Wills with a wry smile.

  “What the hells people? You know, if any of you have this much free time to insult me, you all could’ve just gone downstairs to eat instead,” I retorted dryly. Rather, what was the point in waking me up just to insult me like this?

  Everyone seemed to agree with my statement, and murmurs about going downstairs to eat began to spread.

  “Wait a bit,” Arthur said suddenly. “He never answered my question. He just said something weird a moment ago.”

  “Yeah, we all heard it Art,” Trayn replied, his tone teasing and sarcastic. “He was doing that weird chant, or did you already forget.”

  “Not that!” Arthur retorted indignantly. “I asked how their parents got together.’”

  “Booze,” I replied simply. With my simple answer, the room felt like it became quieter all of a sudden.

  “What did you mean by that?” my brother asked after a moment, his voice rather hesitant.

  “Really bruv, you don’t even know this?” I asked and looked at him mockingly. I shook my head and took a seat.

  “It is as it sounds. Mom and Dad got together because of booze,” I explained with a small smile.

  “Wait.” The truth dawned in Arthur’s eyes—just like everyone else’s did. “You don’t mean…?”

  “That and more!” I replied proudly with a grin. “I wasn’t exactly a planned child.”