Up until now, Kunon couldn’t even see the point of living. This was his first great wish—no, it was a desire he had harbored as far back as he could remember.

I want to see my family.

I want to see the world around me.

I want to see everything.

What did it mean to see?

I want to know. I want to know so badly.

Sight was something the people around him took for granted. But for Kunon, it was something he craved more than anything.

And so Kunon devoted himself to magic.

***

“Amazing…”

Could a different perspective really change someone’s way of looking at the world so completely?

Kunon had resolved to obtain sight through magic, and from the moment he decided to pursue that goal, he saw everything in a positive light.

The first difference he experienced was the way he ate.

Before, he had always eaten the same bite-size sandwiches just to survive. How they tasted was secondary. As long as they weren’t difficult to eat, it was fine. He hadn’t even known what he was eating.

But that was before.

Now he wanted to know. What was the flavor of each individual ingredient that mixed together in his mouth to create one whole taste? What was this crisp, fresh, leaflike thing? What was that acidic flavor smeared over the bread?

Oh, I know this one, he thought. Sliced apple.

“The leafy one is lettuce. There’s mustard on the bread.”

Kunon had asked his personal maid, Iko, what he was eating.

“Oh, and that’s apple,” she added.

“I already knew that one.”

Its vivid flavor and texture were unmistakable—so distinctive that after tasting it once and learning its name, he wouldn’t likely forget.

“…Actually, it’s a plum disguised as an apple.”

“Huh? Plum? What’s that?”

In order to perceive things with magic, Kunon would need a strong recognition and memory of the things he wanted to sense.

His magic tutor told him that if he was determined, anything and everything in his daily life could become a part of his training.

Kunon, who still wasn’t very skilled at using his powers, needed to learn to flawlessly employ his magic at will.

“What’s this, hmm?” asked Iko. “Do you know, Master Kunon?”

Recently, she had been amusing herself by preparing different foods for him to try.

But she was overdoing it—in several ways.

“I’m going to tell them to dock your pay.”

“Oh, my apologies. I got carried away.”

After breakfast, his tutor would come.

That morning, Kunon was to study at his desk.

It was called studying, but in actuality Kunon simply listened while someone read a book to him, and then they chatted about the content.

Due to his vision, even Kunon’s tutor often seemed perplexed about how to conduct his education. Since they couldn’t use more conventional methods, they had settled on this approach.

Baroness Flora Garden had worked as one of Kunon’s teachers for two years already, since he was five. The baroness was over thirty and had a gentle voice and demeanor.

She also had a child of her own, about Kunon’s age. She clearly felt a lot of pity for Kunon. Even after two years of teaching him, he still heard her sigh in sympathy and compassion from time to time.

“History?” she asked.

“Yes. I would like to hear about Holy Knight Histor in particular.”

The Great War of the Seventeen Kings.

To Kunon, it was a loathsome old legend—the source of his blindness. He would make a sour face whenever Flora mentioned the story, and so she made a point of avoiding it.

In Hughlia, the tale was as well-known as a children’s nursery rhyme, but with Kunon’s sensitivities…she couldn’t bring herself to teach him about it.

At a loss for how to reply, Flora looked to Iko, who was standing against the wall, waiting to attend to her charge should the need arise.

Is it okay? Flora asked with her eyes.

Iko got the message and gave a small nod.

“Very well,” said Flora.

She closed the book she’d brought for the day’s lesson.

She didn’t know why, but Kunon was trying to confront his problems. Or at least, that was how the baroness saw it.

And so Flora decided to go along with his request.

After the study session, Kunon had some free time.

With his new goal in mind, he eagerly took the chance to practice magic.

“A-ori.”

Iko had escorted Kunon to the garden, and he was now reciting the A-ori spell—the most rudimentary water-based skill.

“Good job, Master Kunon!” she cried.

Drawing upon some indefinable power within himself, he created several A-ori in the surrounding air. Apparently, he’d managed four of them, each about the size of an eyeball.

“Oh, what do we have here?” Iko said. “Just an extraordinary sorcerer, that’s all!”

Somehow, he had to make them into real eyes.

I don’t know what to do.

Even his magic tutor said she didn’t know—or rather, she didn’t seem to understand what Kunon was getting at in the slightest.

He wanted to use water magic to make eyes.

It seemed to Kunon that most sorcerers thought what he was trying to do was crazy or impossible. Or perhaps, rather than impossible, it had simply never been tried. People who could see would have no need for such things.

“Excellent form!” Iko called out.

And that meant there was no one to teach him how. Kunon would have to do it himself.

“…Hngh.”

He still wasn’t accustomed to using his power. Sustaining the A-ori spell had winded him in moments. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

“I just can’t help cheering when I see a kid working so hard!” said Iko.

Before long, his concentration fizzled out, and the A-ori plummeted to the grass and burst.

“Haah, haah.”

Kunon was panting.

But then he caught his breath.

He cast the spell again.

Time slipped by unnoticed as he repeated the incantation over and over and over. Eventually, his consciousness started to blur.

“Master Kunon!”

When he awoke, Kunon was in his bed.

He must have collapsed, and Iko had carried him there.

“…Not bad.”

His body was exhausted. All his muscles ached.

But he felt okay.

To anyone else, it might have been a trivial day. But Kunon had felt alive.

Not bad.

He would give it everything he had the next day, too.

He couldn’t see the future, but even Kunon’s eyes could make out the tiniest glimmer of hope.

“Iko? Are you there?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m here.”

“You talked way too much while I was practicing.”

“Thank goodness you finally brought it up. If you had kept ignoring me, I would have gone to bed tonight crying.”

I should have sent her off in tears, Kunon thought. She was so distracting.

***

“It’s not enough. Not enough at all.”

It was nighttime. One week had passed since Kunon set his mind on obtaining his eyesight.

He was having dinner in his room. As he ate his sandwich, concentrating on the ingredients and identifying each one, he reflected on his day.

After gradually growing used to his power and magic, he realized there were far too many things he was lacking.

Lessons with a private tutor in the mornings, independent magical study in the afternoons—he’d done the same thing each day for the past week. And he didn’t necessarily want to change that, even though he’d seen essentially no progress.

But it wasn’t enough.

“What? I haven’t been showing you enough affection?” Iko said as she served him. Kunon ignored her.

“I get plenty of affection…”

Shoot. He’d replied without thinking.

“Oh good. Then I haven’t showered you with love in vain.”

“No, you’re fine.”

“If you need even more affection, we’ll simply have to share a bed, won’t we?! Oh, should we have a sleepover tonight?!”

“I’ll pass.”

His maid aside, Kunon was loved by his father, mother, and elder brother. He felt crushed with guilt over how much he was loved. And because of his own love for them, Kunon found it hard to be around them.

That’s why he’d had them prepare a separate building a short distance from the main home, where Kunon now lived with his maid. It had all been at his request.

If he lived together with his family, they would worry about him and sigh over him. It would be depressing. Kunon didn’t want that.

And even now, his family would come to see him occasionally. That’s why Kunon felt sure they loved him.

For the sake of his family, he wanted to gain his eyesight, no matter what. He didn’t want to make them worry anymore.

“I don’t have enough knowledge or magical power. And I feel like I’m especially lacking in physical strength.”

He had fainted almost every day for the past week.

Was it his meager magical power? His weak body? Most likely both were to blame.

“That’s to be expected, isn’t it? You’re only seven, young master. Your mind and body are still growing.”

Iko was right.

But growth happened slowly. Much too slowly.

Kunon wanted to see as soon as possible. He couldn’t let the years pass him by as he waited for his mind and body to develop.

“…But you’re right,” she continued. “You don’t eat much, so you might be a little small for your age.”

Kunon nodded. Of course. “I’m too small, too.”

Then the solution was clear. He needed to eat a lot more. And—

“I should train my body a bit, I suppose.”

Because he couldn’t see, Kunon didn’t move around much. If he did so recklessly, he would just crash into something or fall down. Consequently, he was so out of shape that a short walk could wind him.

Iko, on the other hand, never had any trouble—even when carrying him around after he’d collapsed.

Until recently, Kunon hadn’t cared about living, so it hadn’t mattered. But that wasn’t the case anymore.

“That’s true…,” Iko said. “It might be a good idea to put on a bit more muscle.”

The past week had taught Kunon that whether he was using his powers or harnessing those powers into magic, it all came down to his physical condition. It was about strength.

He’d get nowhere if he ran out of breath after only two or three spells. To keep going, he needed a certain level of physical fitness. Otherwise, he wouldn’t get the most out of his training.

There was a well-known story about a foolish ruler of some country or other who went down in history for attempting to implement all sorts of reforms and battle corruption in a single stroke, only to die without accomplishing anything.

In short, the ruler tried to do too many things at once and failed.

To prevent that from happening to him, Kunon needed to set himself firmly on a single course of action and do what he was capable of, one thing at a time. Surely that would prove the quickest path in the end.

Magic was the most important. It would take top priority.

Training his body would be second. He would work to achieve a physique suited to using magic.

Once he’d used up his magic, he would train his body, and when his body was tired, he would hone his magic.

Theoretically, it should be an efficient way to proceed.

This is it, Kunon thought. I know what I have to do.