"About four years ago," Lina began, her tone calm as she looked down at the dining table, "Selaphine once confided in me about you—how stubborn you were, how you refused to go to school. That was three years before she disappeared."
Across from her, Kael listened intently, hands folded in his lap. Ruby, however, sat to the side, more concerned with his spoon than the story, shoveling food with the singular focus of a soldier in battle.
Lina smiled faintly and went on.
"It was just an ordinary afternoon. Nothing out of the ordinary in our talk—she spoke about you, your endless questions, and about your father, always obsessed with his training. Then we drifted into lighter things—planting herbs, cooking experiments, silly little domestic things."
Her voice softened. "But I noticed how her expression always changed whenever we started talking about Ruby's progress at school. Because no matter how gently we brought it up, that topic always circled back—to you."
---
Years Earlier — in a small market café
"Are you alright, Mrs. Selaphine?"
Lina's voice carried gentle concern as she placed a hand on her friend's shoulder.
They were waiting in line at a food stall inside the town's modern marketplace, each holding plastic bags of groceries, chatting as they waited.
"I'm fine, Mrs. Lin," Selaphine replied softly.
"Is this about Kael? You can tell me—maybe I can help?"
Selaphine only smiled, not answering.
"I'm sorry," Lina bowed her head slightly.
"Oh no, no, don't do that," Selaphine said quickly, her hand fluttering awkwardly as she reached for Lina's arm. "Please, lift your head—people are staring."
Lina smiled faintly. "Then tell me when you're ready. I'll listen, whatever it is."
Selaphine sighed. "You're right. It's about Kael. Or more precisely, about his schooling."
"Oh… is it about money? If that's the problem, I can talk to my father—he's the head of the education foundation. With Kael's intelligence, getting him a special entry would be simple."
Selaphine chuckled softly. "No, not that."
"Is it because the school's too far? Ruby has an extra bike—Kael could use it."
Selaphine shook her head again. "No, it's not that either."
"Then what is it that worries you so much?"
"Shall we talk while we walk?" Selaphine said, smiling as she picked up her food order.
They left the stall, walking side by side through the busy market street.
"Kael is… gifted," Selaphine said quietly. "So much that sometimes Arda and I worry he might not be… normal."
"Wouldn't that make you proud?" Lina teased gently.
"Of course," Selaphine laughed, "but it's frightening too."
She told stories about Kael—how he learned to speak before he could run, how he read fluently at four, how he absorbed new knowledge like air.
"But the strangest thing," she continued, "is how he understands concepts. Not just words or facts, but meaning. The way his mind works—it's not like other children. That's why he refuses to attend school. He says it's pointless."
Lina frowned. "And your husband? Can't he persuade him?"
Selaphine rolled her eyes. "That foolish man? He sides with Kael every time! He twists logic like a wizard to defend him."
Lina laughed softly, shaking her head. "You're always so funny when you talk about him."
"Funny?" Selaphine raised an eyebrow, pretending to scowl. "He drives me insane!"
Their laughter lingered in the air like sunlight.
---
Back to the Present
"That was the first time your mother truly opened up about you," Lina said, returning to the present moment.
Kael sat quietly, staring at his open hand—clenching and unclenching it as though searching for something invisible.
Am I really that strange? he wondered.
"Don't overthink it, Kael," Lina said softly, reading his silence like an open book. "You're just… brilliant. That's all."
She took a slow breath before continuing. "But a few months before she vanished, your mother started acting differently. I asked her again and again, but she only smiled and said everything was fine. Still, I could tell—something was wrong."
Lina's gaze grew distant. "She became anxious, restless. The bright woman I knew looked constantly on edge. I even followed her home once—just to see. But all I saw was a mother beaming with joy, laughing with her son. It was like she became a different person when she was near you."
She paused, letting the quiet linger.
"Then, one day before she disappeared," Lina said, lowering her voice, "I found this outside my window."
She reached beneath the table and placed a small wooden box wrapped in cardboard before Kael.
He lifted it carefully, eyes narrowing in confusion. "What is this? Did it come from my mother?"
Ruby finally looked up, curiosity sparking in his eyes.
"Open it," Lina said. "I don't fully understand it myself. When I did, I only found a letter with a few instructions."
"Can I read it?" Kael asked.
"Go ahead."
He unfolded the paper, reading silently. Then, from the box, he pulled out a thick black envelope sealed by a strange, recessed circle—almost like a lock fused into the paper itself.
Kael tried everything—cutting, tearing, even pressing and tapping it—but it wouldn't open.
"Do you know how to unlock this?" he asked.
Lina shook her head. "Didn't the letter say it was meant for you and you alone?"
"Yes. It said only I could open or use the contents. But… it's not responding."
"Let me try!" Ruby snatched the envelope.
"What are you doing?" Kael frowned.
"Maybe I can open it! Who knows, maybe I'm smarter than you—then I'd be the genius!" Ruby laughed.
"That's not polite," Lina scolded gently.
Ruby deflated, mumbling an apology before handing it back.
Kael sighed. "I'll figure it out later. Still, thank you, Mrs. Lina. Is there anything else I should know?"
"That's everything," Lina said, folding her hands on the table. "The food I sent, the small funds—those were from your mother's provisions."
Kael blinked. "What do you mean?"
"Inside that box was another small case filled with gold. I sold it and converted everything into a Nodus—a Republic financial bracelet. Your mother didn't explain every detail, but I think she meant for me to register it under your name."
---
Nodus: The Republic's Lifeline
A Nodus was a sleek metallic bracelet used for digital transactions. Though the mechanism behind it was complex, its use was simple: touch it to another Nodus or a registered terminal, channel a small amount of arkanum, and think of what you wanted to do—transfer, pay, withdraw. The bracelet would execute the command instantly.
Each Nodus bonded permanently to a single user's DNA. Only the Republic Bank could register or erase one—neither the government nor the military could interfere. If stolen, it was worthless.
---
"So… I don't need to go to the bank?" Kael asked, slipping the bracelet onto his wrist.
"No. It's already registered to your DNA," Lina said gently. "Your mother left a strand of your hair in that box. I used it to link the Nodus for you."
A faint blue line flickered across Kael's fingertips, threading into the bracelet. A moment later, numbers glowed faintly before his eyes.
Ruby gasped. Lina too. But Kael's expression matched theirs—shock.
"Wait," Ruby said. "Why do you look surprised?!"
Kael blinked. "You… saw the numbers too?"
Lina shook her head. "No, we can't see those. Only the user can."
"Then what—why are you both staring?"
Ruby burst out laughing. "Are you joking? You really don't get it?"
Kael looked genuinely lost.
"It's your arkanum," Lina said softly, cutting through Ruby's laughter.
Kael froze.
"Ten years old," Lina whispered. "And you just used arkanum effortlessly."
Kael swallowed hard. "Four or five years ago, maybe. That was when Father got angry—really angry—after finding out I could use it."
Lina's eyes widened. "Selaphine never told me that. She mentioned your intellect, yes—but not this."
Kael lowered his head, face flushing faintly.
Ruby leaned back, laughing again. "You're incredible, Kael. A genius and an idiot rolled into one!"
Kael glared, embarrassed, but Ruby's laughter eased the tension in the room.
Lina chuckled softly, shaking her head. "It's alright, Kael. I'll keep your secret. Your mother once told me she'd rather I carry her worries than expose them to anyone."
Kael exhaled, a small, guilty smile tugging at his lips.
For a moment, Lina just looked at him—really looked—and thought, He can still smile. It had been so long since she'd seen that expression on his face.
"Any other questions?" she asked.
"Not for now."
"For now?"
Kael nodded. "I'll trust what my mother prepared. She wouldn't have left this without reason. I'll figure out what she meant—eventually."
Lina smiled faintly, gathering the dishes. Kael and Ruby followed, helping her tidy the table. They bickered along the way—childish, competitive, alive.
And Lina couldn't help but laugh quietly, shaking her head in affection.
---
When everything was put away, Lina finally stood by the door. Ruby followed, his bag slung over one shoulder.
Kael watched them go until the sound of their footsteps faded.
Then silence.
Only him—and the wooden box that now sat on the table, holding questions too heavy for a ten-year-old to answer.
He stared at it for a long while, the faint reflection of his mother's smile flickering somewhere between memory and imagination.
To be continued...