Marcus pov
Last night, Evelyn's mother gave birth to a healthy baby girl. We only found out this morning. From what I could gather, the one who helped deliver the baby wasn't from our village. My mother said the same happened when Evelyn was born, and again when her older brother was born. By the time word of their births spread, the midwife—or whoever she was—was already gone.
Strange, but that was just how things were with Evelyn's family.
As I trained alone today, I couldn't help but notice the mana in the air. Denser than usual. Maybe it was just my imagination. Or maybe it was because I was still thinking about the magic staff Evelyn made for Lina. Most people here couldn't understand how special that was.
My sister explained it once: fighters dissolve their weapons after every use because no one can really create a permanent object with mana. That's why blacksmiths are still important. The only weapons that last are legendary weapons—one of those could buy an entire city. And they grow stronger with their wielder.
I don't think Lina's father even realizes how valuable her staff really is.
When Evelyn reached stage two, I asked if she could make me something too. At first, she hesitated—said I could create my own weapons. But I countered with, "If you can make one for Lina, then I deserve one as well. If you don't want to, I won't force you." Honestly, I was just trying my luck. I didn't expect her to say yes.
But she did.
The spear she created for me is… incredible. With mana, it can grow longer, or shrink small enough to fit in my palm. I can carry it everywhere without anyone noticing. Evelyn even improved Lina's staff later, making it able to store spells. Lina just has to channel mana into it and think of the spell, and it works—faster and stronger than before.
I don't think Evelyn realizes how much she's changing things.
When I got home, my parents were waiting to take me to Evelyn's house, to congratulate her mother and see the baby. After a bath and clean clothes, we went together.
Inside, Evelyn's mother cradled the newborn. Her voice was soft but clear when she introduced her.
"Her name is Avery."
I stepped closer, drawn in. Avery's tiny fingers curled as she breathed gently in her mother's arms. The name seemed to hum in the air, like it already carried meaning I couldn't quite grasp.
"Avery…" I whispered. It felt right.
Looking at Evelyn, standing close to her mother, I felt it again—that quiet certainty. Evelyn wasn't like the rest of us. From the way she shaped mana, to the impossible weapons she created, to the way fate itself seemed to bend around her… she was already walking a path no one else could follow.
And that was fine.
From the beginning, I knew she was special. Different. My job wasn't to outshine her—it was to keep pace in my own way. To be strong enough that, when the time came, I could stand beside her.
On the walk home, I was quieter than usual. My father noticed, as he always did.
"Something on your mind, Marcus?" he asked.
I hesitated, then said, "It's Evelyn. She's… different. No matter how hard I train, she always feels like she's ahead."
My father chuckled, placing a steady hand on my shoulder. "Some people are born touched by fate. They carry a light the rest of us can't imitate. And that's not a burden, son—it's a gift to walk beside them."
I thought about that, his words settling in my chest.
"Then I'll make sure," I said quietly, "that when Evelyn walks toward her future… I'll be strong enough to walk beside her."
My father's grip tightened, warm with pride. "That's all anyone could ask."