The warmth of the vegetable stew and the crackle of the fire did little to dissolve the curious energy that now hummed around me. We were gathered in our usual circle, bowls in hand, but the atmosphere had shifted. I was no longer just Ardyn. I was the morning's spectacle.
I could feel their eyes on me between bites. Not the wary, fearful stares from the yard, but something new: a fascinated, speculative curiosity. They'd lean in, whisper behind their hands, then glance over as if I were a unique sculpture they'd dug up and were trying to appraise.
Kai was the first to break the communal silence. He set his bowl down with a decisive clatter, squinting at me as if trying to see through a disguise. "Carpenter," he announced, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Had to be. No one splits wood like that unless they've done it for a lifetime. You probably built… giant houses. With golden nails." He nodded, immensely pleased with his own deduction.
Nico nearly choked on his stew in his eagerness to counter. "No way! Did you see the sword? That was not a carpenter." He brandished his spoon like a blade. "He's an adventurer! A famous one! He's probably hiding from, like, a million enemies. Or a dragon he insulted!" His eyes were wide with the thrilling possibility.
To my utter astonishment, Seres spoke up from where she sat, calmly sipping her broth. Her voice was a dry, level contrast to the boys' excitement. "Baker," she stated simply.
The children stared at her. So did I.
She met my gaze, her pale eyes glinting with a faint, rare amusement. "You knead dough… like you kill logs." She made a swift, sharp punching motion with her fist, then went back to eating as if she'd just commented on the weather.
A beat of silence, and then the ruins erupted with laughter. Kai howled, clutching his sides. Nico fell backward, kicking his legs in the air. Even Mia giggled into her hands, and a faint smile touched Ethan's usually stern mouth. The image of me as some deadly, dough-pummeling baker was apparently the height of comedy.
Emboldened, Luna spoke next, her voice so soft we all leaned in to hear. "A lost traveler," she murmured, her gaze distant and thoughtful. "From a place… with different trees. Different wood. That is why his cutting is… not from here." It was the kindest guess, wrapped in a quiet poetry that made my chest ache.
But Ethan, ever the pragmatist, shook his head, his brow furrowed. "He's too… something," he said, gesturing vaguely at me with his spoon. "Suspicious. You don't move like a carpenter or a baker. You move like…" He trailed off, unable to find the word, but his meaning was clear. I moved like someone trained for something else entirely.
I opened my mouth, wanting to explain, to tell them that I was just as baffled as they were. That the hands that held this wooden spoon felt like strangers most of the time. The words crowded in my head, a jumble of my own language with no way out. All that emerged was a frustrated sigh.
"I… not…" I began, gesturing helplessly from the imaginary sword to the non-existent dough. "The… wood… is… good?"
My pathetic attempt to say "I don't know how I did it" came out as a solemn endorsement of the quality of the firewood.
This, for some reason, was even funnier than Seres' baker theory. Nico pretended to faint from the sheer brilliance of my statement. Kai clutched his heart. "He admits it! The wood is good! A true master of his craft!"
I gave up, shaking my head with a wry smile as their laughter washed over me. The mystery wasn't solved. If anything, it was more tangled than ever. But the fear was gone, replaced by a warm, buzzing game where I was the central, clueless piece.
The laughter from my clumsy endorsement of "good wood" had finally subsided into contented chuckles and the soft clinking of spoons against bowls. The warm, earthy stew was a comfort, a familiar anchor in the strange new sea I was navigating. Mia, ever observant, was watching me with a thoughtful expression as she chewed a piece of potato. She swallowed, then tilted her head, her dark eyes alight with a new kind of curiosity.
"Maybe it's mana," she said, her voice casual, as if suggesting a change in the weather.
The effect was instantaneous. The comfortable chatter died down. All eyes turned to her, then to me, with renewed intensity.
"Mana?" Nico breathed, his earlier theory about adventurers instantly upgraded. "You think he's… enhancing?"
The laughter from the "wood is good" comment had just begun to settle, replaced by the comfortable sounds of spoons scraping against clay bowls. Mia, ever the thoughtful one, was staring into her stew, a little line of concentration between her brows. She took a final bite, swallowed, and then looked up at me, her head tilted in that bird-like way of hers.
"Ardyn," she began, her tone casual, as if asking about the weather. "When you cut the wood… and the stump… was it… mana?"
The word landed in the middle of the table like a stone dropped in a still pond. Mana. It was utterly alien, a collection of sounds that meant nothing to me. I blinked, waiting for a translation, a context, anything.
Instead, the children's faces lit up with instant, electrifying excitement. They latched onto the idea as if it were a lifeline, the perfect explanation for the morning's impossible display.
"Of course!" Kai burst out, slamming his hand on the table, making the bowls jump. "It has to be! He's enhancing his body subconsciously! Muscle reinforcement! It's a basic combat application!" He said it with the authority of someone who'd read exactly one pamphlet on the subject and was now a certified expert.
Nico shook his head vigorously, his orange hair flopping. "No way it's subconscious! That was too clean! He was trained. Probably by some secret order of mana knights who live in a hidden fortress!" He was already halfway into his next grand adventure.
Luna, who had been quietly tracing the grain of the wooden table with her finger, spoke without looking up. "Or… he doesn't know he does it." Her voice was a soft murmur, but it cut through the boys' exuberance. "Like breathing. You don't think to breathe. You just do."
Even Ethan, forever the skeptic, was nodding slowly, a grudging acceptance on his face. "It's possible," he admitted, his practical mind turning over the idea. "It would explain… that." He gestured vaguely in the direction of the massacred stump. "We could test it. After we eat. See if he can channel it on purpose."
All eyes turned to me, bright with anticipation and newfound theory. They were waiting for my confirmation, my insight into this mysterious force they called mana.I had nothing. The word was a complete blank. My brow furrowed in genuine, profound confusion. I looked from one eager face to another, completely lost.
"I…" I started, then stopped, shaking my head. I pointed at my own chest, then made a gesture of emptiness, of nothingness. "I not… know." I struggled, searching for the words. "What is… mana?"
The effect was instantaneous.
The excited chatter died. Abruptly. Totally.
Four forks, halfway to four mouths, froze in mid-air. Kai's knowledgeable expression melted into pure, unadulterated shock. Nico's adventurous glint vanished, replaced by a look of such profound disbelief you'd think I'd just grown a second head. Luna's finger stopped its tracing. Ethan's eyebrows shot up so high they nearly disappeared into his hairline.
The silence that fell was entirely different from the one in the yard. That had been awe and fear. This was… utter, gobsmacked bafflement. It was the silence of someone being told another person didn't know what water was, or sky. It was a fundamental, bedrock part of their world, and my ignorance was not just surprising; it was incomprehensible.
I shifted uncomfortably under their stunned stares. "It is… important?" I ventured weakly, the question only deepening the void of their silence.
Mia was the first to recover. Her look of shock softened, then twisted into a mischievous grin. She let out a deliberate, exaggerated sigh, breaking the tension as if popping a bubble.
"Okay, first things first," she declared, her voice dripping with playful solemnity. She pointed her spoon at me. "Maybe I should teach you how to walk again before we ask any more questions about chopping wood or swinging swords."
Mia used the laughter as a springboard, pushing herself up from the floor. "The air in here is getting thick with confusion," she announced, waving a hand dramatically in front of her face. "And it smells like someone," she shot a look at Nico, "didn't wash his feet. We should go outside. The fresh air will be good for Ardyn's recovery. Help clear his head." She glanced at me, her eyes twinkling. "Maybe he'll even remember what mana is out there."
The suggestion was met with general agreement, a welcome excuse to move past the strange, awkward moment. But there was no immediate rush. Bowls were finished, spoons were licked clean, and the comfortable, slow rhythm of a finished meal took over.
The morning air by the river was cool and fresh, carrying the clean scent of wet stone and pine. We all gathered on the smooth, worn bank, the water rushing past us a constant, soothing murmur. Ethan stepped forward, his usual serious expression taking on a new layer of focus.
"Watch," he said, his voice low and intent.
He held out his hands, palms facing each other. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the air between his palms began to shimmer, like heat rising off summer stone. A small, perfectly formed orb of golden light coalesced there, humming with a soft, resonant energy. It was beautiful and utterly strange.
"Mana," Ethan said, his eyes fixed on the glowing sphere. "It is… everywhere. In air. In water. In us." He spoke slowly, choosing words he knew I might understand. "We pull it. We shape it."
Then, he took a deep, sharp breath. I saw the muscles in his arms and shoulders cord, not with strain, but with a sudden, flowing power. His posture, already solid, seemed to become unshakable for a brief moment, as if he'd taken root deep into the earth. He was circulating it, strengthening his body from within.
Finally, he snapped his fingers. A tiny, bright flame sparked to life on his thumb, dancing for a heartbeat before he flicked his wrist. A whisper-thin gust of wind, visible only for the dust it kicked up, blew the flame out into nothingness.
The kids watched, utterly rapt. Nico and Kai were already holding out their own hands, fingers wiggling as they tried to mimic the motions, their faces alight with eager imitation.
But Seres moved. Her hands were gentle but firm as she reached out and pulled their arms down. "No," she said, her voice leaving no room for argument. She looked from Nico to Kai, her pale eyes serious. "You are too young. Your bodies… not ready." She placed a hand over her own heart. "Mana is… danger. If it moves wrong inside… it burns." She didn't need to elaborate. The grim finality in her tone was enough. The excited light in their eyes dimmed into resigned, understanding pouts. They knew she wasn't just being strict; she was being protective.
Then, as one, everyone turned to look at me.
The air grew still and quiet, the sound of the river suddenly loud in my ears. All that power Ethan had just demonstrated—the light, the strength, the spark—it was supposed to be everywhere. Inside me, too.
I looked down at my own hands. The same hands that had moved with such impossible certainty hours before. I tried to focus. I tried to feel for that energy Ethan had described. I imagined pulling the light from the air, drawing strength from my core, summoning a spark of heat. I concentrated until my brow furrowed, searching for any flicker, any hum, any sensation that wasn't just the chill of the morning air on my skin.
But there was nothing.
My hands remained just hands. Empty. Ordinary. There was no hidden well of power, no whisper of energy. Just the faint tremor of effort and a growing hollow feeling of absence.
I looked back up at their waiting faces, their expectant silence pressing in on me. Slowly, I shook my head.
"I… feel nothing," I said, the words feeling inadequate. "It is… not there."
The hands that could wield a sword like a master's held no magic at all.
The children's shocked silence was quickly broken by a storm of confused chatter.
"How can you not feel it?" Kai exclaimed, his voice pitching high with disbelief. "It's like not feeling your own heartbeat!"
"Maybe he's broken," Nico suggested, not unkindly, but with the blunt curiosity of a child examining a strange insect.
"He's not broken," Mia countered, though she looked just as perplexed. "He's just… different."
Their arguing voices faded into a dull buzz as Ardyn noticed Seres had gone utterly still. Her head was tilted, her usual calm expression replaced by one of intense, unnerving focus. Then, her eyes changed.
The pale, seeing eyes he knew clouded over, the color washing away into a milky, sightless white. It was as if a sudden fog had rolled in behind them, blinding her. Ardyn instinctively stiffened, a primal unease coiling in his stomach. She was looking at him, but not seeing him in any normal way.
She leaned closer, her clouded eyes scanning him, studying the space around him, seeing things he could not. The children fell silent again, sensing the shift.
"You cannot bring out the mana in your body," she said, her voice distant, as if listening to something only she could hear. "But… there is something there. Deep in your core. A great weight. Sleeping."
Her words, spoken with such eerie certainty, made the air itself feel heavy. Ardyn was struck less by what she said and more by the unnatural sight of her eyes. A cold shiver traced its way down his spine.
Seeing his obvious discomfort, Seres blinked slowly. The milky whiteness receded like a tide, fading back to her normal pale hue. The unsettling presence vanished, leaving behind the familiar, stern girl.
Calmly, as if she had merely commented on the weather, she explained. "My gift. Mana Eyes. I was born with them." She gestured to her own eyes. "I see… energy. Traces. I see how dense or faint mana is in living things. In plants. In the air. It is how I find the herbs I sell."
She looked back at him, a faint line of curiosity between her brows. "But you… are a puzzle. Your mana is not faint. It is… sealed. Locked away deep inside. Like a great flame trapped behind thick, thick glass. You cannot feel it. You cannot reach it. But it is there."
The revelation hung in the air. He wasn't empty. He was a vault, and whatever was inside was so powerful, so contained, that it was completely beyond his perception or control. The mystery of him had not been solved; it had only deepened, becoming stranger and more profound.