Chapter 5: Chapter Four
Months flew by in peace for Varre who dedicated this time to practicing and honing his magic to the point where he could utilize it perfectly within the limits of not having a grimoire. Being complacent wasn't an option for him and he didn't even let a single day go to waste. A grimoire was simply a tool which would help regarding the spells and techniques, but how a mage utilizes their magic is totally upon themselves. Varre used this time frame to gain as much insight as he could on his magic, leaving no stone untouched.
His fifteenth birthday went by as well and soon came the day where he could pick a grimoire for himself.
The Grimoire Acceptance Ceremony takes place every year on a day of any month selected by the owner of the Grimoire Tower. It is done for the children of Clover Kingdom to receive their grimoires. Fifteen is the legal age for mages to receive grimoires and once they are in possession of it, they are officially deemed as mages, allowing them free access and usage of their magic.
Every six months after the Acceptance Ceremony, the Magic Knights entrance exams take place in the Clover Kingdom for admission of new and upcoming mages into the military of the kingdom. The Magic Knights is the only occupation anyone can be a part of, regardless of their background. Although there is discrimination within the squads based on background, it is ignored during the admission process. A Magic Knight is on their own and it is entirely up to them on how they prove themselves by earning merit and fame through the missions and climbing the ranks.
It is the only occupation which gives a chance to the people belonging to the backward classes, a chance to change their lives. The job also came with honor which was why many of the citizens flocked over to try and become Magic Knights to make a name for themselves.
"Shall we get going?" Varre asked, taking one last look at himself. He appeared to be decent enough and his face exhibited excitement.
Seeing this on screen or reading it on his smartphone screen did not provide him with the excitement he was feeling at this moment. Experiencing something first hand feels different when reading or having heard about it from someone else.
"Thought you would never ask." Altria smiled, seeing her friend excited. Her mind traveled back to a year back when she received her grimoire. It feels just like yesterday when she got hers so she knows how it feels. "I see someone's excited."
"How can I not be? I can finally not hit myself with my own magic." Varre said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Albeit, in truth there are hardly people who hit themselves with their own magic for the sake of training. "Plus I can't wait to see what kind of spells I will be able to use."
'Magic advances with the passage of time. Which means my sword magic would be advanced compared to his.' He thought to himself. 'In canon, no other person had Sword Magic so this is going to be a totally unknown territory.'
Bidding his mother goodbyes, both the teenagers got on their respective brooms, taking off to the skies of Clover Kingdom, heading towards the southern parts of the kingdom. The Grimoire Tower was built in the last village of the kingdom, the Hage Village, situated in the Forsaken Realm where the peasant community of the kingdom resided.
The kingdom of Clover is divided into three realms; Noble Realm, where the people of Royalty and Nobility reside, Commoner Realm which is for the Commoners as per namesake, and lastly the Forsaken Realm where the peasants and the poorest of people reside. The people are divided on the basis of both birth and magic power reserves.
Royalty and Nobility-born have the highest magic power reserves, commoners having mediocre reserves and lastly peasants who have little to no magic power at all. The social hierarchy made according to the magic reserves of a person is impossible to escape even if the person dedicates their entire life to training and honing their magic.
The two teenagers flew through the air for a good amount of time, crossing many villages, towns, rivers and mountains along the way. As they flew further away from the main kingdom, they took note of how the level of development and the structure of establishments degraded. The further they went, the less developed the towns seemed to be.
"Look there is the tower. That is where you will be getting your grimoire." Altria pointed to the tall structure that was now visible over the horizon. "And over there is the demon skull."
Following her directions, Varre's eyes landed on the huge demon skull which was on the opposite side of the grimoire tower. On the top of the skull stood the statue of a human male holding a grimoire. This was one of the landmarks of the Hage Village, the last village in the Forsaken Realm.
"The statue of the first wizard king and the head of the demon he slayed." Varre muttered. 'Imagine their faces when they realize that the statue is very much alive.'
Every citizen of the kingdom had heard the story of how the first wizard king slayed the demon that threatened to harm humanity five hundred years ago. It was from that era that the norm of selecting the Wizard King started. The Wizard King was different from the regular king in the Clover Kingdom.
While the king had authority over other matters such as policy making, running the administration and court procedures, the wizard king had full authority over the military forces, that is the magic knights. Decisions made by the wizard king for the magic knights were absolute and not even the king of Clover can make changes in those decisions. Though they could always provide suggestions regarding the knights every now and then.
The two descended on the ground, a considerable distance away from the grimoire tower. Placing their brooms under a tree, Altria spoke. "You should get going quickly."
"What about you?" The brown-haired teen inquired.
"It doesn't take much time for you to receive your grimoires so I will just wait here." Altria shrugged. Since she already has her own grimoire, there was no point in going inside the tower again.
"Suit yourself." Varre shrugged before making his way towards the tower.
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The interior of the magic tower was spacious enough to hold a large mob of people inside. There was only one floor which was the base floor where people would gather together to receive their grimoires. Said books of magic were arranged like floors of the towers, the shelves going high as the ceilings itself.
The structure of the tower itself was imbued with some kind of magic which when activated by the owner would affect the grimoires that would then fly to their respective owners. In this place the grimoire chose their owners based on their magic and the depths of the soul. It is said that "Magic never lies even if the mage does." This saying prevailed from ages unknown, holding a deep meaning that even if the mages being a human does lie, the magic he or she does not lie.
'Quite the crowd has gathered.' Varre observed the people gathered in the tower. 'I think this is the usual headcount every time.'
He noted that people from all the communities had gathered under one roof. The magic tower was the only place where royals, nobles, commoners and peasants, all stood under one roof. Even still, the people hung out in groups of their own communities. Nobles with other nobles, commoners with commoners and lastly peasants alongside other peasants.
The sounds of the people conversing with one another halted when a flying carpet flew above everyone's head. Sitting on the carpet was a short, elderly man with a heavily bushy beard and long eyebrows that almost hid his eyes. He halted the carpet right at the position where everyone could see him and proceeded to use Communication Magic to make sure his voice reached everyone gathered in the tower.
"I wish you all upcoming mages and Magic Knight aspirants luck in your endeavors." The old man named Drouot greeted. "Now then I instruct you all to hold out your hands and apply a little bit of mana in your palms."
Moments after the teens held out their hands, the books in the shelves starting glowing before getting pulled out of the shelves telekinetically and floated in the air. The mages that had gathered watched with awe and wonder as the grimoires flew around before making descend towards their destined owners.
The covers of the grimoires were different from one another and no two grimoires had the same color pattern. Even if two mages had almost similar attributes, their grimoires and spells inside them were different. A grimoire is unique to each person and when a mage dies, their grimoire disintegrates as well, leaving behind no sign of its existence.
The common feature of the grimoires was the Three Leaf Clover symbol on the covers which was also the national symbol of the Clover Kingdom. The three leaves signify Faith, Hope and Love.
On rarest of rare occasions, people who are exceptional mages, almost a prodigy and are said to be blessed by mana itself, may end up receiving a Four-Leaf Clover grimoire. The fourth leaf in the cover symbolizes Luck. In the entire history of the Clover Kingdom, there was only one man who possessed the Four Leaf Grimoire and that was the First Wizard King.
'There were two but history is biased.' Varre thought to himself, thinking about the Four-Leaf Grimoire while waiting for his grimoire to land in his palm.
There was one other myth revolving around the grimoires regarding a fifth leaf manifesting in a grimoire. When a fifth leaf manifests in a grimoire, it is said to represent despair as it is said to be possessed by a devil. Till date, there have been no cases of someone possessing a Five Leaf Clover grimoire in the kingdom.
The grimoires started descending towards their respective owners, their glow dying down once they were in the palms of their owners.
The one that landed in Varre's hands was a red colored grimoire with a golden clover symbol and several rune symbols engraved on it. While the other mages were giddy and excited about receiving their grimoires, there was a look of unmistakable surprise on Varre's face.
"This is not the grimoire for sword magic..."
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Night had fallen upon the Clover kingdom and most of the citizen were already wrapped under the thick blanket of sleep. Well that was the case for most of the citizens.
"No matter how much I think about it, that's the only logical explanation which makes sense." Varre mumbled to himself, lying on his bed while staring keenly at the grimoire he received.
After receiving the grimoire, he and Altria had roamed around the other towns of Commoner Realm, spending the day together, given they had no agenda or work to be taken care of. There were six months left before the selection for the Magic Knights would commence. They had ample time to train and prepare for it.
The day spent with Altria was indeed refreshing and it helped Varre keep his mind away from other worrying thoughts. It almost felt like a date though he would never consider himself lucky enough to have a date right after transmigrating. Not when he is unsure about his feelings about the girl. While it was obvious from Altria's behavior and mannerisms that she had a crush on Varre, the same couldn't be said for the latter.
He would need time to sort out his feelings for the people of this world, both whom he has met and the ones he will be meeting in the future. Despite being part of a story, right now they are real people and not just some characters.
The current thought he was preoccupied with was his grimoire. The grimoire he received wasn't related to his attribute at all. It belonged to a completely different attribute
'The only way is to try things out rather than hurting my head overthinking about it.' Getting up from his bed, Varre grabbed his broom before opening the windows and flew out from there, heading straight in the south direction.
He increased his speed midair in order to reach his destination quicker. With proper control over his mana output and control over the broom's magic, it isn't difficult to control the broom at high speeds. As long as a mage has proper control, they need not worry about speed.
Soon enough he could see his destination in front of his eyes, the magic tower. Making his way over there, he landed on the backyard of the building and kept his broom in place, hidden from view. Even if no one was around at this hour, he did not want to take any risks of being spotted.
Having concealed his broom, Varre walked up to the entrance of the tower and pushed the double doors open. The tower was only filled with grimoires and since grimoires are unique to a person, there is no way for a thievery to take place, resulting in this place having no security at all.
"How long are you going to sit back and observe?" Varre suddenly spoke up even though there was no one around. Yet he knew that the message had reached the intended listener. "Isn't it time you take the lead?"
The moment the words left his lips, he felt the control over his own body slipping away from him. It was as if he was being pulled away in the darkness. His hazel eyes turned into a shade of golden while his brown hair turned white. Four red dots making a diamond shape appeared on his forehead.
"We will need to have a talk about this, Varre Swallowtail."
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Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone