Lyra Mythica City is a large city with a vast number of schools and educational institutions that teach every kind of magic. In this place, students greatly outnumber the regular citizens.
As the day rolled on, one boy sprinted down a narrow walkway, breath sharp, face full of panic. Behind him thundered a pack of delinquents, stomping the ground like they owned the whole street.
"Get back here, kid!" one of them yelled. "We're gonna beat you into paste for calling us ugly!"
"Yeah! Who do you think you are, saying that with a straight face?!"
The boy didn't dare look back. He just kept running as the yelling grew louder.
"Why the hell did I do that? This is why I should just mind my own business and run when trouble's around. But nooo, Mr. Idiot over here thinks he's a hero. The one time I try to help, I end up in a freaking chase scene. God, my lungs are gonna burn…" the boy muttered, clutching his side as he zigzagged through the crowded streets.
His legs pumped like pistons, sneakers slapping against the uneven cobblestones of a narrow side street. He darted left—no, right!—through a maze of market stalls, sending a crate of glowing mana apples tumbling into a fountain with a splash. "Sorry! Uh… my bad!" he yelled, but the delinquents didn't slow down.
"Oi, slowpoke! You're making us look bad!" one shouted, barreling past a cart of floating books that scattered into the air like startled birds. A cloud of enchanted paper swirled around the boy's head, sticking to his hair and clothes.
"Yeah, like you guys need any help looking bad." the boy retorted, ducking under a low-hanging merchant's sign in the narrow street.
He skidded around a corner, narrowly avoiding a street performer practicing fire magic. A flaming hoop wobbled dangerously as he sprinted through, and a startled cat—a magical-looking one with a tiny glowing horn—leapt from a roof, landing squarely on his shoulder. "AHH! Get off, get off!"
The alleyway tightened. A vendor's cart of colorful potions tipped over, tiny explosions of sparkling liquid spraying across the walls. "Sorry!" he shouted, glancing back. The delinquents grinned, energized by the chaos, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls.
Finally, he stumbled into a dead-end alley between two tall, ancient buildings, their walls covered with glowing runes that hummed faintly. He skidded to a stop, chest heaving, as the delinquents rounded the corner, grinning like predators.
"Think you could run from us, huh?" the taller one taunted, menacingly twirling his wooden staff.
"Gotcha now, loser!" the other one roared. "No more running!"
The boy's back hit the rough stone wall, and he pressed against it, heart hammering. He didn't know what to do next.
The tallest delinquent leveled his wooden staff at the boy, a smirk twisting his face. "So… trying to be a hero for that girl?" He let out a short, mocking laugh. "You just made yourself look stupid, kid."
Another stepped forward, snickering. "Yeah! And don't forget how you just went and introduced yourself as her boyfriend! Hah—what, were you hoping she'd fall for you instantly or something?" He laughed, and a few of the others giggled behind him.
A third delinquent slammed a fist into his palm, eyes narrowing. "And calling us ugly, too! Hah! Like you're any better, loser!"
The boy gritted his teeth, his anger rising at their jeering. "Well, I mean, you guys aren't exactly a beauty pageant either," he retorted, his voice cracking slightly. "And as for the whole 'hero for the girl' thing, it's called being a decent human being. Maybe you should try it sometime. Might improve your ugly faces."
The tallest delinquent's face twisted red, veins popping at his temple. "Did you just call us ugly again?!"
"Yeah! You little—" another shouted, fumbling for words, "I-I'll… I'll punch your FACE until it looks like mashed pudding!"
The boy blinked, then let out a short, disbelieving laugh. "Ohhh nooo," he said with exaggerated sarcasm, "a punch? Not my face! Anything but that!" He held up his hands in mock surrender.
Suddenly, the tallest delinquent's wooden staff began to glow, bright streaks of light crawling along its length like angry lightning. "Enough of your smart mouth!" he growled.
With a dramatic twirl, he swung the staff in a wide arc toward the boy. A concentrated blast of magic shot out from the staff, hissing through the air with a sharp swoosh! "Eeeek!" he yelped, leaping sideways, flailing his arms like a startled bird.
The blast slammed into the stone wall behind him with a CRASH, sending small stones and dust into the air. A jagged crack split the wall, and a chunk of masonry bounced harmlessly toward his shoulder. He shivered violently, teeth chattering.
The delinquents staggered back a little, either impressed or worried that he'd actually dodged it. The glow on the wooden staff faded.
The boy flinched every time the debris tinkled to the ground, muttering, "Okay… okay… maybe sarcasm wasn't the best idea…"
The tallest delinquent planted his staff firmly, the glow fading but his glare burning hotter than ever. "That's it! I'm gonna crush you for making us look like fools! Especially for messing up my big moment with that cute girl!" he growled, fingers tightening around the staff like he was about to launch another blast.
The other delinquents smirked, nudging each other. "Yeah, boss! Show this runt what happens when he ruins our reputation!" one said, grinning.
Even though the boy was still shocked by the blast, he couldn't suppress the spark of excitement igniting in his chest, no matter how much fear churned in his stomach. The magical explosion had been so damn cool. He couldn't hide the inner geek screaming inside him.
Dammit… I want magic too. I'm so jealous…
The tallest delinquent let out a furious roar—"Gyaaaah!"—as he dashed toward the boy, wooden staff glowing with a fierce, crackling light. Sparks danced along the length of the wood, the air around it shimmering with raw magical energy. With each step, the ground seemed to hum beneath him, tiny pebbles skittering from the force of his charge.
"Brace yourself! I'm about to rewrite your spine!" he bellowed, swinging the staff in a wide arc, a pulse of magic surging outward like a jagged wave of light. The air sizzled, leaving faint scorch marks where the energy tore through, and a faint whistling sound followed the swing, as if the wind itself was warning of the deadly strike.
The boy's body tensed, his fingers digging into the rough stone of the wall behind him as adrenaline surged through him.
I'm so dead. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He had to do something, anything!
He squeezed his eyes shut, anticipating the imminent impact…
Suddenly, the attack froze mid-swing—
The delinquents freeze mid-swing, his magic sputtering out as a sudden vibration ripples through the ground beneath them. One by one—
Thud.
The tallest one's boot sinks into the pavement like it's made of wet cement, his leg jerking violently as he loses balance. "Wha—?! MY FOOT—"
The other delinquents yelp as their knees suddenly sink into soft earth, bending sideways like the floor turned to mud under their weight. Their leader's wooden staff slips from his hand, hitting the ground with a dull clatter while his body tilts forward, limp and helpless, like someone cut his strings.
The ground hardens again in an instant.
Their elbows slam into the hardened surface, locking in place as if invisible hands grabbed them. In the blink of an eye, all of them are pinned: arms twisted where they fell, legs caught mid-motion, cheeks mashed against the cobblestones, some frozen in ridiculous falling poses.
A shadow falls over the pinned delinquents. The alley's air grows heavier, colder—like a cliff edge before a fall.
Then, footsteps. Precise. Unhurried.
A woman stepped into view from around the corner of one building, her badge glinting under flickering rune-light as she adjusted her glasses with two fingers.
"...Disgraceful." Her voice is flat as tombstone marble when she finally speaks to their flattened forms on the ground.
"Attempted assault? In an academy district?" A small sigh slips out through her nose like steam from cracked ice.
"You should be ashamed."
She crouches beside their leader's face still pressed into stone and tilts his chin up slightly with one finger—not gently—to make him meet her gaze through dust and dirt smeared across his cheekbone.
"This is your third recorded incident this month alone," she states tonelessly.
"...Pathetic."
The boy, watching this display of absolute power unfold in front of him, stood there, his eyes widening. "What the hell...?" he murmured in complete shock.
His earlier panic was completely forgotten, replaced with a mix of awe and amazement. He stared at the pinned-down delinquents, then the woman who had effortlessly immobilized them.
The pinned leader's gaze shifts, his eyes growing wide as his brain finally registers the significance of the emblem on her lapel.
His usual smug expression shatters like glass, replaced by a look of genuine shock and surprise.
"A-A Lorewarden?!" he stammers, his voice cracking slightly. The name seems to carry a certain weight that even the toughest thug on the street recognizes.
A sharp pang of realization ripples through the other delinquents as well, their eyes going wide as they realize who's confronting them.
"No... the Lorewardens? They're here?!" one of them mutters, his voice thick with a mix of fear and disbelief.
Another lets out a nervous chuckle, trying to hide the tremor in his voice, "H-hey! We were just having a bit of fun, right guys?!" he sputters, glancing anxiously at the rest of his frozen-faced friends.
The boy's mind raced as the name Lorewarden echoed in his thoughts. He'd definitely heard that term somewhere before, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember where. It nagged at him, a vague memory barely out of reach.
As the pinned down delinquents scramble to excuse themselves, his thoughts whirled.
"Lorewardens," he murmured, almost to himself.
Where have I heard that before…?
He straightened up, still panting slightly from the chase. He wiped some sweat off his brow with the back of his hand before turning to address the Lorewarden.
"Okay so! These losers were harassing some girl at a restaurant earlier! I tried to be all noble and step in, like, 'Hey, leave her alone!'"
He jabbed an accusing finger squarely at their leader. "And then this knucklehead called me ugly—which is fair, I was having a bad skin day—but then he threatened to turn my face into pancake batter!"
All the delinquents yell in unison, their voices crackling with indignity.
"YOU CALLED US UGLY FIRST!"