I don't know whose brilliant idea it was to have all soldiers attend a magic class—including me, someone who clearly can't use magic.
So you can imagine my face when the magic instructor said,
"Alright, everyone! Today we'll be learning basic elemental manipulation!"
...I could only sit in the corner, arms crossed, with a face that screamed "I don't know why I'm here."
"First, imagine the element of fire," the instructor said enthusiastically.
"Feel its warmth, let it flow through your body!"
Everyone started focusing.
Hands lifted. Eyes closed. Serious aura.
Meanwhile, me?
I was glancing out the window, thinking, "What's for lunch today? Soup or porridge?"
After a few minutes of sitting in vain, Alto nudged me from the side.
"You really can't use magic?"
I nodded lazily.
"Seems fun though, being able to use magic," he said, then tried to summon fire in his hand. And he did it.
Me?
I tried to imitate just a little—staring at my finger, willing it with all my soul:
"COME ON, FIRE, COME OUT!"
...Nothing.
Alto laughed.
"Man, that's just sad."
I pouted.
"Why am I even here if I'm just gonna end up as an audience member?"
"Well, maybe so you can at least learn the theory. So you won't be clueless when everyone talks about magic."
Okay. That... actually made sense.
But the best part was when the instructor said:
"Aria, come to the front and give it a try!"
EVERYONE IN THE CLASS LOOKED AT ME.
I walked to the front with the most unconfident steps ever.
Awkward smile. Shaky hands.
I raised my hand.
Tried to focus.
Whispered a prayer inside.
And...
Nothing happened.
The instructor let out a long sigh.
"Ah, right... you're the one who can't use magic. Sorry, sorry."
The whole room laughed. Including Alto.
Me?
I just stood there stiffly, thinking to myself:
"This isn't a magic school. This is a stand-up comedy show."
After several days of living the newbie soldier life, the day finally came: My First Mission.
I thought I'd be assigned to guard duty, or join patrols, or at least do more sword training.
But nope.
My commander, face serious and noble, handed me the assignment paper and said:
"Aria, your task today is... cleaning the horse stables."
...
Wait.
WHAT.
I stared at the assignment sheet like I was reading a letter of exile.
"Commander," I protested, "is this some kind of initiation, or payback for fainting during training yesterday?"
He didn't answer.
Just patted my shoulder and walked away.
I stood there, sighing deeply.
"Well, at least the horses can't use magic."
When I got to the stables, the signature smell of horses and hay greeted me.
Several large horses looked tougher than most soldiers at the barracks.
One of them stared at me like it was saying:
"Hah, this weakling human thinks they can brush me?"
I picked up the brush.
Tried to greet the horse gently.
"Uh... hi. Please don't kick me."
It kept glaring.
I think it knew I wasn't from this world.
Or maybe it, too, was a corporate slave in a past life.
For hours I was brushing fur, sweeping hay, and wiping saddles.
Even if it wasn't bloody combat, the work was exhausting.
During a break, one of the soldiers who had talked to me in the stables before showed up.
"Huh, you're still alive, huh."
"Can't say for sure," I replied, slumped on the floor. "Maybe this is just one long, horrible dream that won't end."
He laughed and sat next to me.
"Just think of it as part of your journey. Who knows, you might become a hero someday."
I stared at the ceiling of the stable and muttered:
"A hero from cleaning horse stables, huh? At least put my name in the history books as Aria the Fate-Brusher."