The morning sky over Talmuth stayed pale and quiet, like the world had not yet decided how to begin the day. The courtyard inside the Borja estate felt colder than usual. Stone tiles held yesterday's chill. No servants moved nearby. No sound came from the garden walls.
Zion stood barefoot at the center of the courtyard.
His hands stayed open in front of him.
His mother knelt directly in front of him. Her hands glowed faint blue, steady and controlled. Her eyes never left Zion's right hand.
"Do not move," she said again.
Zion nodded. "I'm not moving."
His voice carried calm, but his fingers still trembled slightly.
Behind him, his father stood with arms folded. His presence felt heavier than the morning air.
"This step decides everything," his father said.
Zion glanced back. "Decides what?"
His father did not answer immediately. His eyes stayed on Zion's hand like he was watching a clock about to break.
"It decides your path," his father said finally.
Zion turned forward again. "I already know my path. I'll become strong. I'll use my insignia well."
His mother paused for half a second before continuing the ritual. That pause went unnoticed by Zion.
Mana began to gather under his skin.
At first, it felt like warmth. Then pressure. Then something like ink spreading under glass.
Zion's breath caught. "It feels… weird."
"It will stabilize," his mother said.
The glow intensified.
Lines formed on the back of Zion's right hand. Thin at first. Then sharper. Then structured like cracked crystal forming a perfect pattern. It spread across his skin like a map made of glass veins.
Zion stared at it. "It's forming."
His voice carried excitement.
The insignia finished forming with a final pulse of light.
Zion lifted his hand slowly. The mark stayed bright for a moment, then settled into a faint glow beneath his skin.
Zion exhaled. "It worked."
His mother lowered her hands. "Yes."
Zion turned immediately to his father. "What type is it? Weapon? Summon?"
His father stepped closer. His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied the pattern.
"Magic insignia," he said. "Crystal affinity."
Zion smiled wide. "Crystal. That sounds strong."
His mother looked away again.
Zion did not notice.
He focused on his hand. Mana responded when he concentrated. A small crystal formed above his palm, floating a few centimeters above his skin.
It was unstable. Slightly uneven. But real.
Zion laughed under his breath. "I did it. I really did it."
His father placed a hand on his shoulder. Firm. Heavy.
"You will train this properly," his father said.
"You will enter the academy."
Zion nodded quickly. "I'll work hard. I'll get stronger than everyone there."
A long silence followed that statement.
His mother finally spoke, softer than before. "You should rest before you leave."
Zion shook his head. "I want to start early."
His father turned away first. "Then you leave tomorrow."
Zion looked down at his insignia again. Pride filled his chest.
Behind him, his parents exchanged a look that Zion never saw clearly.
His father spoke low. "He accepted it completely."
His mother replied, "He always trusts us."
"That is why it works," his father said.
Zion raised his crystal again. It shimmered in the morning light.
He did not know that the light was not the only thing being shaped that day.
His future was being adjusted too.