I awoke before the sun.
The air was cool and still, the world outside my window painted in shades of deep gray. No birds yet, no morning chatter — just the quiet hum of my thoughts, already awake before me. My body felt light, alert, eager. I couldn't go back to sleep, not with my mind still buzzing from yesterday's discoveries.
Slipping out of bed, I dressed quietly, careful not to wake Melody or Mother. The manor's halls were silent, the kind of silence that made every step sound too loud. I crept down the corridor, heart pounding with a strange excitement, until I reached the family library.
The old doors gave a faint sigh as I pushed them open. The scent of aged parchment and polished wood drifted out to greet me — familiar, comforting. In the dim light, the shelves stretched high above, filled with books that had always seemed too advanced, too sacred for me to touch without permission.
Not today.
I lit a small lamp and settled at one of the tables, drawing the nearest tome toward me.
"On the Principles of Mana Flow and Soul Resonance."
The first few pages were dense with terms and diagrams, but as my eyes moved across the words, they unfolded effortlessly in my mind. Mana — the energy of life, spirit, and will. Every living being held a fragment of it, invisible and formless until shaped by understanding.
My pulse quickened. So this was the foundation of magic.
Book after book followed — crafting, enchanting, the theory of skill resonance. Each one built on the last, and though they were written for scholars far older than me, their meanings arranged themselves in perfect order as I read.
In one volume, "The Ceremony of Awakening", I found a chapter that drew me in completely.
> At thirteen years of age, a youth may undergo the Rite of Awakening, wherein their soul harmonizes with divine essence to reveal a personal skill. The ceremony must be conducted in a consecrated church under the presence of the gods. Those of strong will or divine favor may awaken unique blessings or hidden abilities beyond ordinary measure.
I sat back, staring at the words, my mind spinning.
Thirteen years old. That was when most people took their first step toward power — their first glimpse of destiny.
But I was already learning, already changing. If I could prepare myself before then — study, train, understand the world — what would my awakening become?
I felt a quiet thrill run through me. The knowledge from the books seemed to hum inside my chest, as if resonating with something unseen.
This is what Cerys meant, I realized. Growth through knowledge.
The eastern horizon began to lighten, pale gold seeping into the darkness. I closed the book gently and rose, placing it back on the shelf.
"Not yet," I whispered to myself. "But soon."
As the first rays of sunlight touched the windows, I slipped back to my room unseen. The day hadn't even begun, and already I felt one step closer to the power waiting within me — and to the destiny Vespa had promised.
The morning light crept through my curtains far too soon.
I had slipped back into bed just before dawn, hoping for a few minutes of rest, but my mind refused to quiet. Every page I'd read, every spell diagram, every theory still spun through my thoughts like a river that refused to stop flowing.
When the door creaked open, I squeezed my eyes shut and slowed my breathing.
"Good morning, young master Baker," Melody said softly, her voice gentle but bright. "It's time to wake up."
I let out a small groan and turned lazily on my pillow, pretending to stir.
"Mm… morning already?" I mumbled.
She smiled knowingly. "You've been reading again, haven't you?"
My eyes shot open a little too fast.
"I— No, I just couldn't sleep well."
Her expression softened. "You should rest more, young master. Even bright minds need their sleep."
"I'll be fine," I said, sitting up and rubbing my eyes. Hopefully.
By the time I reached the study hall, my head was heavy, and my body lagged behind my thoughts. Yet the moment Teacher Louis began his lecture, something inside me woke again. Despite the fatigue, every word still flowed neatly into place, like ink on fresh paper. The blessing of Cerys kept my understanding sharp even when my body wanted to collapse.
"Excellent work today, Baker," Teacher Louis said at the end of the lesson, glancing over my flawless calculations. "You've improved remarkably these past two days."
"Thank you, Teacher," I said, forcing a polite smile.
If only he knew I'd spent half the night buried in forbidden tomes.
---
That evening, after dinner, I made my way back to the family library under the excuse of "reviewing lessons." Melody offered to help me, but I quickly waved her off, claiming I just needed quiet.
The room welcomed me again with that familiar scent of ink and parchment. I carried the lamp to my favorite corner table and opened one of the thicker volumes I had found before:
"On the Nature of Elemental Forces."
The first chapter spoke of the Five Foundational Elements — Earth, Fire, Water, Wind, and Nature — the building blocks of nearly all magical disciplines.
Earth: The strength of stone and soil, symbol of stability and endurance.
Fire: The force of passion and destruction, both a weapon and a forge.
Water: The flow of adaptability and cleansing, able to cut as sharply as it heals.
Wind: The essence of freedom and movement, the unseen hand that guides.
Nature: The pulse of life itself — growth, decay, rebirth.
I could almost feel them as I read — the solidity of Earth, the warmth of Fire, the cool calm of Water, the swift whisper of Wind, the quiet heartbeat of Nature. Each one resonated faintly within me, as if the words alone carried power.
Further chapters revealed the Advanced Elements — born from fusion or refinement of the basic ones.
Ice, a harmony of Water and Wind — cold focus and stillness.
Magma, the wrathful union of Fire and Earth.
Poison, born from corrupted Nature and lingering Water.
Lightning, the perfect dance of Fire and Wind — energy given form.
Shadow, the reflection of absence, the quiet between breaths.
Light, the balance that opposes it — warmth, clarity, and truth.
Healing, the divine refinement of Light and Nature, used by priests and holy mages.
My eyelids grew heavier as I read, but I couldn't stop. The deeper I went, the clearer it all became. I could see patterns in the diagrams — the flow of mana channels, the way elements harmonized or clashed within the human body. It was like listening to the heartbeat of the world itself.
At some point, my head dipped forward, and my forehead nearly met the open page.
I jerked awake, blinking rapidly. The lamp flame flickered low.
I'll rest soon… just one more page.
By the time I closed the final book, the moon hung high above the window, casting silver light across the library floor. My vision swam, but my heart raced with exhilaration.
"I'll master all of it," I whispered. "Every element. Every path."
Even as exhaustion tugged at me, I smiled — because deep down, I knew that the knowledge I gathered tonight would one day shape the skill that awaited me at my awakening.
And with that silent vow, I slipped back to bed before anyone noticed, the whisper of turning pages still echoing in my dreams.