"So, I suppose you've heard enough of the story, Caden. Do you wish to begin the practice?" Sand asked in a calm, composed voice.
Caden stood up with force and excitement. "Yes, let's begin!"
Sand nodded, then asked with a serious expression, "Let me ask you a question first. Which class will you choose? Will you be a Channeler or a Contramancer?"
Confused, Caden asked, "What do they mean?"
"To put it simply, a Channeler gathers magic from nature and the surroundings. A Contramancer, on the other hand, bends reality—and their own beliefs—through contradictions. Learning Channeling is easier than learning paradox-based magic, but there's a catch. Paradox magic is a hundred times stronger than Channeling."
Caden's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Paradox magic," he said without hesitation.
Sand carefully studied his eyes, realizing no amount of persuasion would sway the boy's curiosity or eagerness. He sighed, giving in. "Well then, how about we begin?"
"Caden, do you know how to manifest paradox magic?" Sand asked.
"I don't," Caden admitted honestly.
Sand cleared his throat and began, "To wield paradox magic, we use a law called the Law of Internal Dissociation. You could say, to wield paradox magic, you must become one. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"What does it mean to become one?" Caden asked.
"You see," Sand explained, "unlike Channeling, paradox magic cannot be learned through inner peace or harmony. It's the opposite. You need contradictions—within yourself, within your beliefs. You need to reject your own understanding of reality."
Caden looked at Sand with a baffled expression, clearly not understanding much of what was said. Still, he nodded.
Seeing this, Sand tried to simplify it. "Think of it like this. You must reject binary logic—the kind we use every day: true/false, light/dark, right/wrong."
He glanced at Caden again. "What you need to do is hold two beliefs at the same time."
"What does that mean, holding two beliefs at the same time?" Caden asked.
"Good question. Imagine you're an observer of the world," Sand began. "Let's say there's a war between good and evil. If you side with good, you limit yourself to one point of view. But if you choose to believe in both, then you step outside of the binary, beyond either perspective. When those conflicting beliefs meet, they react—and give birth to a paradox. That's what paradox magic is."
Caden, still confused, stared at Sand.
"Come on, let's have a practical session. It'll make things clearer," Sand said.
"What do I do?" Caden asked eagerly.
"Alright. First, you need to understand what the Echo Field is. In the context of paradox magic, magic isn't energy. It's the lie told to energy. Paradox magic doesn't tap into ley lines, mana, or life force. It draws from the invisible aura of untruths—created by the collective contradictions of thought, memory, or time. And it's only accessible when the caster simultaneously believes and denies reality."
"To practice this magic, you must enter a state called Refraction," Sand added.
"How do I do that?" Caden asked.
With a quiet laugh, Sand replied, "You need to perform paradox meditation. As the name suggests, it's not to calm your mind—but to fracture it. Begin by repeating contradictions of the senses in your head: seeing silence, hearing light, feeling color, and so on. Or, you can ask yourself questions that logic fails to answer. For example: If God can die, what does that make of divinity? Meditate on such questions until logic fails you."
Caden gently closed his eyes, his arms hanging freely by his sides, and began repeating the question, If God can die, what does that make of divinity?
Sand whispered gently, not to disturb him, "You need to breathe in mismatched intervals—to destabilize your rhythm. As you do, you'll start seeing fractured lines and patterns, even with your eyes closed. Those fractures are the source of the paradox aura. You must thread your will through them, drawing false energy into a core contradiction. A kind of inverted mana pool."
Suddenly, Caden began to scream. His body trembled violently.
Sand stepped in immediately, pulling him out of the meditation before things went too far.
"Thank the heavens I pulled you out in time," Sand said, voice heavy with concern. "You started threading without anchoring yourself. That was my fault—I should have told you to do that first. I'm sorry."
"I… I don't feel right," Caden whispered, disoriented. It felt like his mind was split between truths.
His senses inverted. He gasped, "Something's wrong… I can hear colors—red, green, blue… what? What is this?"
Sand gripped his shoulders and shook him firmly, trying to pull him back to his senses. After several attempts, he finally succeeded.
With a deep sigh, Sand sat down, relieved. Caden stood motionless, unaware of what had just occurred.
"What happened?" he asked.
Sand exhaled again. "As I said earlier, you began threading without anchoring. The fractures almost consumed your sense of self. That's why you don't remember. Paradox magic is no child's play," he said, locking eyes with him. "But if you don't start learning now, you may never be able to."
"Why's that?" Caden asked.
"Because of beliefs," Sand replied. "As you grow up, the world brainwashes you. People and environments impose beliefs you never asked for. And because everyone around you holds those beliefs, your mind accepts them. Once those ideas root themselves in your developed brain, removing them becomes difficult. That's why paradox magic is taught to children—while their minds are still fresh, still sprouting. It's easier to teach contradiction early on."
Caden stared into Sand's eyes—this time, understanding everything he said.
"You were able to see the fractures and even begin threading on your first try. If only I'd told you to anchor yourself… you might have been the first person to grasp a paradox on their first attempt," Sand said with a serious expression. "You have great potential, lad."
"How do I anchor myself?" Caden asked.
"To anchor yourself, you need a strong mantra," Sand replied. "Anchoring is like grounding. Once grounded, you can thread minute particles of will—without being pulled into oblivion."
He noticed a shift in Caden's demeanor. The boy was calmer, more composed. The eagerness had quieted.
"What should I use as a mantra?" Caden asked.
"Why not use something like: I am nothing, therefore I am everything?" Sand suggested.
Without wasting a moment, Caden closed his eyes again and began fracturing his mind with contradictions.
Seconds later, the fractured lines appeared once more. This time, Caden repeated the mantra: I am nothing, therefore I am everything.
As he threaded his will, he saw an enormous rock above him—large enough to crush him. But when it fell, it bounced off the ground instead.
Eyes wide, he opened them and described the vision to Sand.
"What you saw was a manifestation of a micro paradox," Sand explained. "A fracture in reality—small enough not to shatter your mind, but proof that you've taken your first step."
Overjoyed, Caden jumped and ran around the field. Sand stood still, a gentle smile on his face, proud of the boy's success.
"Son," he called gently, "you're not the first to walk this path. Many came before you. Many failed. You may be one of the rare few to manifest a micro paradox in just a couple of tries. Some take years. But that doesn't make you strong. There will always be someone stronger. Don't let that thought consume you."
He paused, his tone grave. "Paradox magic isn't just any magic. It teaches you to see the world through different perspectives. Never consider yourself the strongest. And never let firm beliefs corrupt your paradoxical mind. That could be your greatest weakness."
Caden listened with an open mind. "I won't let it consume me," he said, bowing deeply. "Master."
Still, Sand couldn't shake the thought—why had Caden's demeanor shifted so drastically after the incident? But seeing the boy's joy, he chose not to ask.
"I have a surprise for you, Caden." Sand reached into the inner pocket of his long coat and pulled out a small book. "Here. A gift from me."
"What is it?" Caden asked.
"It's a book of paradoxes. I've written down every one I've ever learned—listed by difficulty. The grimoire you were given by the academy covers many methods of practicing Channeling and Paradox magic alike. But this book? This is personal. You can start mastering the easier paradoxes from it."
Caden's eyes welled with tears. He ran forward and hugged Sand, his small arms barely reaching the man's waist.
"I'll treasure it," he said.
"I know you will."
"Before we end today's class, I need to tell you about what we will do tomorrow. As you know, nothing comes without a price and the same is with Paradox magic. The moment you use a paradox and thread your will into those line fractures, you create those fractures in reality meaning that those fractures stay in reality until someone closes them or destroys them."
"Wouldn't that cause problems?" Caden asked.
"Yes they would but the paradox magic has its own way of dealing with those fractures. The moment you use the paradox and create a fracture, the effect of it travels around the world and if someone forms another paradox anywhere in the world, that fracture would cause your fracture to collapse on itself thereby destroying both of the fractures. In easier terms, only a new paradox can collapse an old one."
"But what if no one performs the magic in time before the fracture spreads?" Caden asked.
Sand replied in a calm voice, "That's something we will deal with in the next lesson, till then have a great day. It's still early—why not explore the academy a bit? Get to know the place. Maybe even make a few friends.
"That's a good idea," said Caden as he ran away to travel around the academy.
As Caden ran off, Sand looked at the sky—its faint shimmer fractured for just a moment. No one else seemed to notice.