Two months had passed since the duel. My attempts to use my wind magic were sporadic—sometimes the power would surge, sometimes it would simply disappear. I didn't know why, but it was clear that my mana core was failing.
After the duel, I had tried to maintain a normal routine, spending short periods with my friends in the village, but my true focus was on training and trying to understand what was happening to my magic. I poured over every dusty magical grimoire in the house, desperately searching for an explanation, but found nothing.
Returning home after an exhausting practice session on the grassland, I opened the door. My little brother, Erik, the one who had spontaneously built a fully-formed mana core at the age of one, now moved with startling speed. He spoke in complex sentences and was often found studying books far too advanced for a child his age.
My parents are enjoying the new genius of the house, I thought, hanging up my practice sword. It's good. It's good for everyone. I'm happy to see my family back to normal.
A year and a half later, the truth was undeniable: I was losing my mana easily. I struggled to conjure even a simple Wind Ball.
On the other hand, Erik was a phenomenon. On his second birthday, he shocked everyone by displaying not one, but two elemental magics: Fire and Wind. Now, he effortlessly controlled three elements: fire, water, and wind. The shock and awe of the entire family—and the village—was palpable.
I, meanwhile, was slowly losing my light. My only remaining talent was my sword skill, which I relentlessly honed. But without the ability to infuse mana into my sword, my fighting potential was severely capped. I was fading; my glow was gone.
It's hard to know I'm losing my mana, I lamented internally. I've tried everything, but nothing works.
A call from the main hall broke my dark reverie. It was Mother, Alice.
"Rudra, come, it's dinner."
I descended the stairs. At the dining table, I saw Father, Reyand, speaking animatedly with Erik, asking about his practice. Erik was proudly describing a new attack he had developed.
They didn't ask me about my training anymore. I didn't know if they thought I couldn't compete or if they were simply too distracted by the brilliance of my little brother. I sat in my usual chair, waiting for dinner, eager to eat and escape to the quiet of my room.
Alice arrived with the food. I took my spoon, ready to focus on my meal.
"Baby," Mother interrupted, addressing Erik, "how is your training going?"
"It's going well, Mom. Now I think I will start practicing my sword training," Erik replied confidently.
Alice smiled warmly. "Oh, dear, you always practice. Why don't you go play with the other children sometimes?"
Erik looked slightly put out. "I'm not interested in playing. I think it's better if I train my magic."
Reyand intervened, "I know you love practicing magic, and sword training is good, but not playing at all isn't nice. You should interact with other kids."
"Okay, Father," Erik conceded.
"Okay, Father, favorite boy," I muttered silently in my mind, shoveling food into my mouth. I wanted nothing more than to leave. They had their perfect son now, and I was just the stupid one who had lost five consecutive duels in the last year and a half.
Just as I was about to stand up, Alice's voice cut through the air, directed at me this time.
"So, how is your training going?" she asked.
I looked at her, pausing with my spoon halfway to my mouth.
"Hmm, good," I finally replied, the word stretched and flat.
"You are not telling us about your training lately," Alice observed.
I stared at her. Why is she asking me? For the last few months, she hadn't asked a single question about my life, my health, or my practice. Her every sentence was "Erik this" and "Erik that." Why now?
I spoke, my voice cold and low. "You never ask, so why would I tell you?"
A heavy silence descended upon the dining table. Father broke it, his voice rising sharply.
"Rudra! That is not the way to talk to your mother!"
I shot back immediately, rising to my feet. "What way? I'm simply stating the truth! She never asks me anything now, and suddenly she remembers she has another son and asks about his training?"
Erik, startled, piped up, "What happened? Why are you using that high tone? You never behave like this."
"Behave like this?" I demanded, the volume of my voice rising several notches. "Sorry, I'm not the precious, gifted boy who knows all the ethics and art styles and has multiple elemental controls!"