"Look. Look at this."
Two middle-aged men sat on a couch while one of them, a silver-haired man, nudged the other with his elbow and pointed across the room.
A young boy, no older than four, stood there looking around with wide brown eyes.
"He already knows how to manifest a flame."
The boy's face lit up.
A toothy grin spread across his face.
"Son, show Uncle the different flames you know."
"Oh? He knows more than one?"
"Just watch."
The boy puffed out his chest and proudly held out his hands.
A tiny flame flickered to life above his palm.
Then another.
And another.
Each one was a different color.
The adults watched with amused smiles.
The boy concentrated harder.
A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead.
"...and this is the emald geen."
A small emerald-green flame appeared above his hand.
It was tiny, barely larger than a candle flame, but it burned with a vivid green glow.
The boy smiled proudly at the silver-haired man.
The man laughed.
"You're not worried he'll rebel, Jarnus?"
"Haah ha."
Jarnus waved dismissively.
"That puny little flame? He only knows how to manifest it. I haven't taught him the code."
His expression darkened slightly.
"I'm not even planning to teach him how to read."
Then he pointed toward a table.
"Come here, son. Light this chillum."
***
"Gah. What a terrible dream."
I sat up and checked the time on my mini-portal.
5:58 AM.
Two minutes before the alarm.
I rubbed my face and tried to shake the memory away.
I'd always assumed I'd forgotten most of my childhood.
Especially the years before Uncle Hess brought me here.
Apparently not.
The dream reminded me of something I'd rather not admit.
I liked attention.
Back then, people gathered around me whenever I used magic.
My father... owner... whatever you wanted to call him... would proudly show me off to his friends the same way someone showed off a newly purchased mana-stone guzzler.
"Watch this."
"Look at what mine can do."
At some point, I realized I wasn't the guest of honor.
I was the clown.
The performing monkey.
The court jester.
Oddly enough, I didn't mind.
Not really.
I liked being the center of attention.
These days, I'd gladly pay money to be ignored when walking down the street.
Still...
I loved magic.
Because unlike everything else in my life back then, my magic wasn't his.
It was mine.
picked up my bag and took one final look around the room. I'd lived here for the past year, ever since Uncle Hess died. It wasn't much. A bed, a table, a chair, and a cramped bathroom. But it had been mine.
Today was my last day here.
I simply couldn't afford another month's rent.
For the next thirty days, at least, I'd be relying on temple shelters.
Not that housing was my biggest concern.
For the past two weeks, I'd been obsessing over magic-radiation blockers, hoping they might provide some clue about increasing my magic power. By now, I had accepted that the entire project was a dead end.
Just another dead end among countless others.
For three years, I'd searched for a way to increase my magic power. I'd studied university-level texts, dug through restricted forum threads, watched lectures, read research papers, and even bothered professors who were unfortunate enough to answer my questions.
Nothing worked.
At this point, I could only leave things to fate.
Because I genuinely didn't know what I would do if I failed again.
Magic was the only thing I truly wanted.
The only thing I'd ever wanted.
My theory scores ranked within the top one percent nationally. My magic execution speed ranked within the top ten percent. Under normal circumstances, that should've been enough to make me an excellent candidate.
But none of it mattered.
Everything came down to one cruel metric.
Magic power.
And twice already, my inability to consistently cross the dreaded four-MCass threshold had cost me admission.
A younger version of me would've still been optimistic.
He would've looked in the mirror and said:
"This time will be different."
After all, I'd spent years stabilizing the output of my magic core. These days, I could exceed four MCass eight times out of ten.
But this wasn't just another attempt.
This was my final one.
I couldn't afford hope anymore.
Hope had carried me through the first failure.
Then the second.
Then the third.
Now I needed certainty.
And certainty was something I didn't have.
I handed my room key to the guard downstairs and began walking toward the nearest temple.
It was about four kilometers away.
I could've taken public transport, but every coin mattered. Walking would take roughly an hour, which meant I'd still arrive in time for breakfast.
The morning air was cool and pleasant. I'd always liked colder weather. One of the benefits of living in the Nico Islands was that extreme temperatures were rare. While the islands lagged behind the mainland in technological development, they made up for it in natural beauty, tourism, and trade.
The Nico Islands were also one of the closest regions to Xenria.
Even now, minor skirmishes occasionally broke out despite the peace treaty. Mages were many things, but patient wasn't one of them.
That was why Uncle Hess and I had migrated here during the war.
Even in Umria, the capital of the Nico Islands, I attracted enough attention simply because of my appearance. People stared. Some openly.
I preferred not to imagine what life would've been like in one of the larger provinces.
I wasn't religious.
Nobody had ever taught me to be.
Still, I respected the temples.
They fed the hungry.
Sheltered the homeless.
Helped people who had nowhere else to go.
Sometimes they asked for assistance in return. Cleaning floors. Preparing meals. Performing maintenance.
Fair enough.
Something like that would've been unimaginable where I grew up.
Of course, the Mythilian government kept a close eye on every religious organization. The last thing it wanted was a powerful institution it couldn't control.
By the time I arrived, the morning hymns had already begun.
The large yellow temple glowed softly beneath the rising sun. Near the entrance, a man was sweeping the floor.
"Sir, I'm here to seek shelter."
I lowered my hood.
The man studied my face for a moment.
Then he smiled.
Not politely.
Genuinely.
"Come, brother."
He placed a hand on my shoulder.
"The Lord doesn't care about appearances. Only what is inside the heart."
I wasn't entirely sure that was true.
Still, I appreciated the sentiment.
He guided me inside.
The prayer hall was enormous. Long rows of benches faced a towering statue of Lord Shvek. Incense drifted through the air while the distant choir continued singing their morning hymns.
The atmosphere was strangely calming.
"Wait here, brother. Breakfast will be served shortly. I'll make the arrangements."
I nodded and sat down.
For several minutes, I simply listened.
The music.
The soft footsteps.
The crackling incense.
I wasn't sure whether it was the atmosphere or sheer exhaustion, but a sudden wave of emotion washed over me.
I felt vulnerable.
Exposed.
Human.
Today, I was going to do something desperate.
Something dangerous.
The final option on a list that had grown shorter and shorter over the years.
If it failed, I could lose my magic.
I could lose my life.
But living without magic didn't feel like living at all.
I didn't want to become another laborer.
Another technician.
Another person who settled because reality told them to.
Even the position offered by Nico Islands University wasn't enough.
It was practical.
Safe.
Stable.
I hated it.
Because it wasn't what I wanted.
For the first time in my life, I decided to pray.
I thought about Uncle Hess.
Asked him for luck.
Then I picked up the small wooden box that had belonged to my mother.
The only thing of hers that I still possessed.
My fingers traced the intricate carvings across the lid. As I did, fragments of distant memories surfaced.
A gentle voice.
Warm hands.
A comforting smile.
Most of her face was gone from my memory now, faded by time and grief.
But those feelings remained.
I opened the box.
Inside rested a single crystal earring.
Objectively speaking, it wasn't particularly valuable. The crystal wasn't rare and the craftsmanship wasn't extraordinary.
To anyone else, it would've looked like an ordinary piece of jewelry.
To me, it was priceless.
Because it was all I had left.
I picked it up carefully and watched the crystal catch the morning light.
It was the most beautiful thing I owned.
And also the most painful.