The young enchantress is hunched over her alchemy table, thick hair flopped over her face, rubbing each side of her temple. She can’t get this spell right after what feels like fifty attempts, and she’s reconsidering her whole life up to this point. The language of magic has been reduced to just meaningless noise. Nothing is happening.

“Are you sounding it out right in your head?” The voice is soft. It’s Lia, another mage, who notices her pained expression. Not like she was trying to keep it hidden, though.

Honestly, she’d rather die than have to put another broken object back together with her mind alone.

“Maybe it’s the fact I don’t actually want to do it,” huffs Ryujin, pushing herself away from the table and letting Lia rub her shoulder, “So this plate is broken – why can’t I put it back together with glue like a normal person? Or just buy a new one? This was what, 2000 won?”

Lia laughs in a way that’s purely loving, it’s sweet and light.

“Augmenting reality is really useful,” she says, “And you know that.”

Ryujin just pulls a face in response, staring at the splinted pieces of porcelain in front of her. Lia pinches her cheeks, forcing her to listen.

“So, being able to do magic means you have to study. That’s not fun. But let’s be honest,” Lia shifts her eyes towards Ryujin’s table and begins to concentrate, easily making one of the plate pieces hover mid-air, “It’s the best gift to be born with.”

“Stop saying things I know are right that I don’t want to accept!” whines Ryujin, muffled as Lia’s still got a firm hold of her face. The plate piece lands gently back on the table.

She shakes her off and they look at each other for a few seconds, but the younger one can’t keep up the act for much longer. She laughs, loud and husky, almost missing the bleeping sound from her pocket. It’s her eMissary telling her the session’s over, complete with the instant cacophony of other mages rushing out of the room.

“Saved by the bell,” Lia jokes. She softly squeezes her arm around Ryujin’s neck before getting up to pack her vials and books away. And Lia has a whole array of books – she’s a model enchantress. The future’s ultimate political weapon.

She turns to Ryujin just before leaving. “See you at the pub later?”

Ryujin leans back and stretches her arms above her head, drawling out a low “Maybe.”

“The same plans as usual, huh.” Lia gives Ryujin a knowing smile, so she turns her reddening face away. When she looks up again, the older girl’s already gone.

Whenever she has time to spare, Ryujin fills it with her new obsession.

She understands how much of an honour it is to be born a mage, but the way it’s taught is ever so serene. Magical folk are to be used for medicinal purposes, for the greater good, for maintaining harmony. But there is a furious energy that courses through her veins whenever she uses enchantments to their fullest power. The feeling is euphoric - throwing objects through the sky, casting spells on people, anything that packs a deadly punch. To be strong and heroic, that comes most naturally to her.

Today amongst many days, she’s flaking on Lia’s pub invitation to go to the training barracks. Here she’s quick to get envious, for whilst she’s in alchemy classes all morning, those born with physically-based powers get to play with their skills to their heart’s content. It sounds like heaven.

However, it doesn’t exactly smell like heaven. Before even entering her usual gym suite, it stinks of sweat and testosterone, but she likes this one because the air conditioning is always on full wack. Which is especially good because she already feels her hands getting sweaty and breath becoming short.

There’s one slight detail that Ryujin can’t quite admit to herself as the main reason she goes there every day. And sure enough, as she pushes the door in, there she is.

Hwang Yeji. One year older, tall and elegant, and extremely promising. The state views her as a complete marvel, so Ryujin figures she spends her entire life training.

The wonder lies in that fact that Yeji was born with supernaturally enhanced strength but is the only one ever known to have a petite build. Her physique is sharp yet feminine, dominating yet nimble. And right now, she’s tossing a concrete plinth between her hands as if it was a volleyball.  

Ryujin is so susceptible to becoming lost in her appearance. Surely, everyone else must be too.

Her eyes trail away from Yeji’s body and onto her face, and oh god – she’s looking right back at her. Ryujin’s been standing at the door for way too long and hasn’t been very discrete with her ogling. Can she cast a spell to make her forget this happened?

“Are you okay?” Yeji gives her a concerned smile, and it’s too late for spells.

“Oh no, I-“ think of something, think of something, “I thought I was in the wrong suite, that’s all.”

“Don’t you usually come to this one?” asks Yeji, and it’s not at all accusative, just curious.

Ryujin feels bad ignoring her question but she can’t think of a good excuse - her head is too fuzzy knowing that Yeji’s noticed her here before. She finally steps into the room to take off her sweatshirt.

Yeji’s just muttering to herself anyway, “I don’t even know what’s in the other rooms,” her smile is shy but direct, “I only do weights.”

Ryujin wants to say “I know”, everyone knows you, but it’s sweet to her that Yeji doesn’t seem to realise what a huge deal she is. They lock eyes for a moment – Yeji’s are sharp like a fox, intense and beautiful. Ryujin just nods and smiles back in a way she knows looks confident. She’s a charmer, after all.

For an hour or two they train in silence. Ryujin stays on cardio machines – she doesn’t want to reveal there’s nothing supernatural about her physical powers, and it’s safe because everyone needs stamina. Yeji, on the other hand, is unbelievable to watch. Not only is her strength a novelty, but the way she conducts herself is so efficient. She swiftly moves from one weight machine from the next, making sure she’s mastered each one.

Ryujin snaps out of her trance when Yeji accidentally twists one of the iron handle bars out of place. Those things are pretty much indestructible, but Yeji sighs in a way that’s adorably understated, as if she’s thinking “Not again”. Even the beads of sweat on her forehead are neat and pretty. Her cheeks are pink.

And when she fishes her eMissary out of her rucksack next to her, her brows stay furrowed. Ryujin turns away and switches the rowing machine up a few levels, but she can hear a typing sound, and then a blurry Yeji shape moves past her and leaves.

Ryujin stays for as long as it takes to row Yeji out of her mind.

“You know, I think I will go to the pub.” She announces on a call to Lia, an hour later and freshly showered. The ache is a good ache and she wants to celebrate with some good day-drinking.

“We just left!” chirps Lia, which is annoying because Ryujin’s already halfway there. A tinny-sounding Chaeryeong and Yuna are giggling in the background. Lia tells them she’s putting Ryujin on speaker.

Without missing a beat, Yuna almost screams down the line, “Apparently some guys got drunk and are trying to break into the South Tower and we want to watch the whole mess.”

Of course.

“Dumb question but isn’t that tower guarded by an entire dragon?” says Ryujin.

“Yeah, it’s going to be hilarious.” Replies Chaeryeong, soft but dry.

Ryujin nods along to no one and keeps walking. “Well, enjoy the show,” she says, “I might still grab a pint.”

Before long, she sees a tatted wooden sign that reads ‘The Division’ and brings her foot up to the step, wiping off the dust from the walk. She walks in nonchalantly as she’s not looking for anyone, however instantly catches the eyes of a familiar face by the bar.

Yeji’s about to take a sip of her drink when Ryujin walks in, and she freezes. The glass crumbles like sand in her brawny hand, shattering all over the floor.

“Oh, hey, don’t worry about it.” Ryujin runs and kneels over, barely registering what just happened, and with a swipe of her fingers she magically pieces the glass back together.

That’s it – the spell she never managed to master, completed without even thinking. She looks up to Yeji, who’s even more shocked than her. Both eyebrows are raised in surprise.

“Why have you been going to the training barracks all this time, enchantress?” she asserts, offering Ryujin a hand up. Her smile is so friendly. How could a smile even be so friendly?

Ryujin takes her hand and laughs, “I wasn’t lying to anyone.”

“Just choosing not to demonstrate the fact you can cast actual spells.”

Yeji’s laugh is kind of hoarse, it’s funny to listen to. Ryujin notices that she’s being offered the stool next to her and slowly complies, trying not to seem too desperate. She doesn’t know what’s gotten into her.

“It’s the coolest gift you can have,” Yeji hums into her glass, soon realising it’s obviously not full of any liquid anymore. Her face scrunches in embarrassment. The bartender’s promptly motioned over to bring two more of whatever she was drinking – one for Ryujin.

Ryujin shakes her head, “Oh, I can definitely think of a cooler one,” pointing to Yeji’s arms. Yeji laughs for a second, then flexes with a mock-serious smize. Ryujin wants to die.

“Have you seen my eMissary?” she asks, sliding her smartphone along the bar.

Ryujin inspects what just looks like a giant metal block, bringing her own up for comparison. “Why is it so thick?”

Yeji seems a bit sheepish. “Whenever I’m stressed I accidentally bend it, so I got given this ultra durable one,” she explains. The new drinks get pushed next to them and she smiles politely, raising her glass to give Ryujin cheers.

“Super strength isn’t actually that fun.”

“Could you still bend it?” Ryujin clinks the glasses together.

Yeji’s a bit cocky. “Maybe.” Ryujin tilts her head and smirks. There’s eye contact and her gaze is electric.

It’s still only the afternoon but neither one asks if the other has anywhere else to be, and they just continue drinking and talking. Three drinks in and they’ve wholeheartedly decided they must already be best friends. Ryujin figures that’s what her attraction towards Yeji was all about. And Yeji gets constant bar snacks – apparently s