RHEIN'S POINT OF VIEW
"It seems the witch you're talking about is a deore mnarillaza."
My eyes widened in shock. How did he know what I was thinking?
He smiled, still keeping his eyes on the road. "Simple. I can hear and read your thoughts."
"W-who… who are you, really?"
"I am a resce mnarillaza—a type of ementumo mnarillaza. You have read about the mnarillazas, haven't you?"
I stared at him, recalling a memory. It was from him that I first learned about mnarillazas—when he lent me a book. That was during our very first training, when he told me it would help me. As it turned out, it wasn't directly related at all. I would've forgotten about them completely if he hadn't brought it up now.
Mnarillaza means "magician" in the Mnarraic language. They possess what's called mnarill—magic. Their stories, and those of their world called Mnarra, were nothing more than obscure fiction… or so I thought. I never imagined they were real.
"I can see a person's past and future—as well as hear their thoughts." He glanced at me. 'I can also speak to anyone using only my mind.'
I bumped my head against the car window when the sudden voice echoed in my mind. Of course, anyone would be startled if they suddenly heard someone talking inside their head.
He laughed. "Shocking, isn't it? Almost maddening to think that we're real—and not just a fantasy."
I ignored the dull throb in my head, my attention locked on his words. "We? W-what do you mean?"
"I told you earlier—we are not ordinary people. And the deore mnarillaza has nothing to do with your eyes changing color. That's happening naturally because your eighteenth birthday is near—the day the asle, or seal, hiding your power will finally break."
It was only when he said it that I remembered—my birthday was tomorrow. Last week, Sister Rona and my friends had been busy planning the celebration… but now, the celebration is not going to happen.
"Tomorrow's your birthday, isn't it?"
I nodded. "I actually forgot. Who wouldn't, after being attacked by a deoremnarillaza? Then to find out I'm not even a normal person?"
Father, Mother, and Sister… could they be mnarillazas, too?
"Being a mnarillaza runs in the bloodline."
"Does my sister know? Why didn't she tell me? Is that why she made me train under you? Does she know the real you? Does she know that deore mnarillaza?!"
I slumped back into my seat, shocked. So I'd been the clueless fool all along.
"Calm down. Don't blame your sister for not telling you. Mnarillazas follow a rule: one cannot find out their true identity if their powers are still sealed, and if they are living in the human world."
"Why? Do mnarillazas have their own world? Is Mnarra real?"
"Yes. We have our own world. You're right—it's Mnarra." He sighed. "Your sister knows who I am. It was I who advised her to have you trained, to make it easier for you to control your powers once the seal inside you breaks." His gaze met mine. "Your eyes changing color… that's proof your body is ready for the power that's been hidden within you."
I looked at my reflection in the car's windshield. My green eyes glowed faintly in the dark.
I still couldn't process all he'd said, so I blurted out, "What… what am I?"
"For now, you are an ofrismnarillaza."
"W-what does that mean? Are there different kinds of mnarillazas? You never mentioned that in your book."
He smiled. "You will find out soon."
When we arrived at his house, he led me to the room where I always stayed during my visits. He lived alone in this huge place—by choice, he said before. Having a wife and children wasn't for him, though he'd never told me why. No matter how many times I asked, he would just laugh and change the subject.
"You still seem to have trouble believing what you have just known. Rest for now—prepare yourself for tomorrow." Then he left me alone.
I collapsed onto the white bed after taking off my shoes.
Pulling my phone from my hoodie's pocket, I saw the screen flooded with missed calls and messages from my sister. She'd been asking what time I'd be home. There were also calls and messages from Jean and Xyrille.
Xyrille: Unbelievable, Rhein! You drag us into your excuses now? You're dead if you don't come home early.
Jean: You're supposed to be resting. What on earth made you go out? If we don't see you at school, you're dead. It's your birthday—don't waste all our effort! Show up tomorrow. Keep your promise.
I smiled sadly as tears welled up and slipped down my cheeks. "Sorry… This time, I'll break that promise."
After reading all their messages, my phone finally died. I reached for the charger in my bag, but as I was about to plug it in, I froze. Slowly, I put it back inside. I wouldn't be needing it anymore.
My life's about to change.
"It's time to wake up."
I woke to the gentle shaking of my shoulders by Grandfather Lembo. I got no choice but to get up when he flicked my forehead.
Yawning, I blinked several times before glancing toward the window, then back at him.
"It's still dark outside. Let's start training later inste—aaahh!"
My mind snapped fully awake when I saw the knife in his hand. I instinctively scooted back on the bed.
"W-why are you holding that?"
"I didn't wake you up early for training," he said. "I'm here to help you bring out your pracien."
"P-pracien?"
"Have you forgotten? Every mnarillaza has a pracien—a partner who will stay with them for life," he explained. "But it can only be summoned at dawn on that mnarillaza's birthday. If you fail to bring yours out before the sun rises, you will never be able to summon them again. You'll live and die without ever meeting them. So if you want to see and be with yours, now is the time."
"Then… why are you carrying a knife?"
"You'll need it to cut your wrist. Your pracien will be born from your blood."
I swallowed hard as I accepted the knife he handed me, staring at the cold glint of its blade.
"This… won't kill me, will it?" I asked nervously.
"No. Your wound will heal the moment your pracien emerges."
He placed a small silver bowl on the bed. Its surface was etched with spiral patterns that seemed almost to move. "Put your blood here. This is the formaedius—a tool that will help summon your pracien."
Taking a deep breath to steel my nerves, I pressed the blade to my wrist. My hands trembled, but I forced myself to make the cut. I bit down on my lower lip as a sharp, burning pain seared through me.
As my blood dripped into the bowl, a white light burst forth, flooding the entire room. I felt my wound knitting closed, the pain fading as quickly as it had come. When the light vanished, Grandfather Lembo and I both stared into the bowl.
Inside, a small figure looked up at us.
"Hi, Rhein. My name's Forelody."