The sun peeked through the forest canopy of Exiastgardsun, casting golden streaks across the clearing where Yuuna stood, arms crossed, eyeing a wooden bench stacked with odd tools, glowing etchings, and a suspiciously sleek plank.
"This," she began, scribbling notes, "is not a toy. It is a travel solution. Mana-efficient, terrain-versatile, and stamina-saving."
Kyle, standing beside her with a gleam in his eyes, rubbed his hands together. "Which means I get to test it, right?"
"Precisely why it will explode," Yuuna replied without looking up.
The device, a mana-hoverboard, hovered gently above the grass, humming with restrained energy. It was a sleek slab of darkwood, inlaid with glowing blue runes that pulsed in rhythm, like a heartbeat. A pair of mana crystals at the core flickered in stable unison.
On the side of the board, Kyle had scribbled a name in dramatic lettering: "Celestial Tempest Rider: Mark I."
Yuuna glanced sideways at Kyle, her expression unreadable. Inwardly, she noted with perfect calm, I need a test subject. Kyle is chaotic, durable, and questionably expendable, perfect for a test sacrifice.
"Ready for the test, Test Subject One?" Yuuna asked.
Kyle grinned and stepped on. "Name's Kyle. Title: Future Sky Rider."
"...More like Temporary Flying Debris," she muttered.
Orchid peeked from behind a tree, munching on a chocolate bar. "Did someone say explosion? I brought marshmallows."
With a low whirr, the hoverboard lifted Kyle several inches off the ground.
"Whoa! This is awesome!"
"Don't lean too, "
Kyle leaned too far.
With a spark and a shriek of overexcited mana, the board bolted forward like a terrified Cluckatrice. Kyle yelped, arms flailing as he shot through the field, leaving a spiral of dust and startled birds in his wake.
"Trees! Trees! Too many trees!" he screamed.
He crashed through three garden fences, each one snapping like brittle twigs under the sheer momentum of mana-fueled chaos. A cloud of startled butterflies and scattering squirrels marked his trail as he flipped over a carrot patch, sending vegetables skyward in a colorful arc. One carrot lodged into his sleeve like a tiny, nutritious javelin.
Skimming across the pond like a skipping stone gone rogue, Kyle's reflection followed him in panicked synchronization before he finally splashed into the lake with a tremendous ker-sploosh. Water erupted in all directions. The hoverboard, as if personally insulted by gravity, physics, and possibly Kyle's shouting, veered skyward in defiance. It whined dramatically, spun twice, then exploded in a spectacular burst of blue flame, leaving a smoky spiral and faint glitter drifting down like fairy dust after a firework show.
Orchid clapped. "Yay! A firework!"
Yuuna walked to the lake's edge and jotted calmly in her notebook. "Hoverboard I: Unstable directional control. Acceleration surge dangerous. Explosion yield medium. Kyle: Alive."
Kyle emerged, soaked, grinning, and holding up a singed boot. "Again!"
Yuuna spent the afternoon refining the hoverboard's mana throttle and core stabilizers. She cross-referenced mana flow equations, re-tuned the stabilization glyphs, and adjusted the positioning of the directional runes by half a millimeter. Even the mana crystal's resonance had to be recalibrated after Kyle's earlier crash scorched its edge into a warped frown. Orchid had offered to 'help' by taping on chocolate wrappers as good luck charms; Yuuna removed them silently.
Each part, each rune, each burn mark became a line in her mental blueprint. The hoverboard's previous flaw had been an overcharge in directional flow, causing a panic-fling effect during rapid lean. The new model had buffered output, an emergency self-leveling script, and an upgraded core she secretly named the "Anti-Kyle Contingency Chip."
By sunset, Magic Hoverboard II was ready.
"Attempt two," she announced. "Do not lean. Do not shout. Do not gesture dramatically."
"What about heroic poses?"
"Especially no heroic poses."
Kyle sighed and stepped on again. The board rose, steadier this time. He eased forward. It moved. Smoothly. Gracefully.
"I'm flying! I'm ACTUALLY flying!"
Orchid waved. "Don't explode this time!"
Kyle soared past the lake in a smooth arc, looped around a tree, and returned, landing with a light thud.
Yuuna nodded. "Hoverboard II: Stable. Control: Acceptable. Kyle: Alive and smug."
Kyle fist-pumped. "Travel is about to get way more fun."
Yuuna smirked faintly. "Wait until I finish Hoverboard III. With a coffee holder."
Orchid gasped. "Can it hold hot cocoa?"
Yuuna looked at her flatly. "No."
Orchid pouted. Kyle laughed. The sun dipped below the trees, casting long shadows over the field.
Hoverboard II did not explode. That, in itself, was suspicious. Yuuna narrowed her eyes slightly, glancing at the mana readings a second time. Normally, their inventions never succeeded until at least the third or fourth attempt, if not the ninth, in the case of the magic bag. This stability on the second try defied all precedent.
She recalled the Magic Stove's early days: an explosive sunburst that had turned their breakfast dreams into smoldering omelet vapor. Then there was the magic bag saga, a parade of enchanted satchels that did everything except store items, including launching themselves skyward in synchronized glittery tantrums. Compared to those chaotic debuts, Hoverboard II's quiet hum felt... eerie.
"Either I am getting better," Yuuna thought, tapping her pen on the notebook, "or the universe is preparing a much larger explosion elsewhere to balance it out."
A success, by Exiastgardsun standards.
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