I wake up to the familiar sound of birds singing outside the window. The sun struggles to pierce through the clouds, barely lighting up my room. The wooden floor creaks softly under my steps as I get up, and I can already smell the comforting aroma of the breakfast my mother is preparing. Teresa is busy in the kitchen, setting the plates and keeping an eye on the eggs and bread. The scent of vanilla and cinnamon lingers in the air.
Astrid, my younger sister, follows her, chatting about the menu. She has that sharp, calculating look in her eyes, always observing and anticipating. Even at twelve, she seems to know exactly how to get what she wants. Once, she even managed to convince our neighbor to lend her his horse for an afternoon, simply by saying the right things at the right time. Ever since that day, I've never doubted her ability to succeed at whatever she sets her mind to.
— Frost, do you want bread or eggs? my mother asks with a smile.
— Both, I think, Astrid replies with a laugh.
— You're overdoing it, Astrid! Élekior exclaims. We'll end up with the fattest boy in the village at this rate.
I smile as I watch them. This daily routine feels so simple, almost perfect. Élekior, my older brother, walks into the room just then. His natural charisma fills the space. Popular and sociable, he always knows exactly what to say to win people over.
— Frost, are you ready for school today? he asks, placing a hand on my shoulder.
— Yes… I think so, I mumble.
— You should train a little this morning, Astrid suggests. A small fire-control spell, it could come in handy.
I shake my head with a smile. Astrid is always pragmatic and a little mischievous. She stretches out her hand and summons a small flame in her palm, dancing gracefully above the table. My father watches, slightly amused:
— Careful not to burn the tablecloth, Astrid! he says with a gentle laugh.
— Dad, I have perfect control! she replies with a sly smile.
My father, Alsted, a good and hardworking man, pauses for a moment to watch us. A blacksmith for many years, he has passed down to us both his craft and the value of effort. His reassuring presence reminds us that even in hard times, everything will work out.
— Frost, show me your fire this morning, Élekior says with a teasing grin.
— Not before I've eaten! I reply. I stretch out my hand toward the candle on the table, and a small flickering flame appears. Astrid snaps her fingers and a wave of warmth spreads through the room. She beams with pride at her precise control, while I struggle to keep my flame steady.
— Not bad, Frost, Élekior says. But you should work on your focus.
— Yeah, thanks, I answer, a little embarrassed.
— Dad, tell us that story about the old mill again, do you remember? Astrid asks.
— Ah… the old mill! my father sighs with a smile. Well, children, once upon a time there was a mill where the millstones turned backwards…
— Backwards? Élekior exclaims. That doesn't make any sense!
— Exactly, my father replies, that's what makes the story interesting. And believe it or not, a young sorcerer once managed to control the wind to make the wheels spin faster than ever…
I take the chance to look around our house: the light filtering through the windows, the shadows in the corners, and the warmth radiating from the kitchen. Life feels peaceful, laughter blending with the aroma of breakfast. Even magic—something extraordinary to others—is simply woven into our daily lives, part of every gesture and object.
— Frost, are you going to school with Zack today? my mother asks.
— Yes, he'll be here in five minutes, I answer.
— And you, Élekior? Do you want me to pack something for you? Teresa asks.
— No thanks, I'll just take a piece of fruit, my brother replies with his usual confident smile.
Astrid, her eyes sparkling:
— Frost, are you really confident about your flame control?
— Yes, yes… at least I hope so…
— You should ask Zack to help you, Élekior says with a laugh. He knows all your little tricks.
I get up and glance out the window. A train passes in the distance, its carriages glowing in the morning light. Even in this quiet village, the world moves and changes. It reminds me that magic isn't the only force worth mastering; the real world keeps advancing too, unstoppable.
— Looks like it's going to be a hot day, my mother remarks. You should wear a jacket, Frost.
— Yeah, I'll grab it, I reply.
— And don't forget to focus, Astrid says. Spells are useful, but you have to think before acting.
Élekior adds:
— If you manage to keep your flame steady all day, I'll buy you a piece of sweet bread!
— You're talking about food again… Astrid sighs, though her smile betrays her amusement.
I finish my breakfast, listening to the conversations around me. Every detail reveals something about their personalities. Even in this calm routine, I can feel the magic of our daily life: the bond that ties us together, the bursts of laughter, and the warmth of home.
At last, I stand up, ready to face the day. Every step through the house, every look exchanged with my family, reminds me that this routine—made of small gestures and shared laughter—is what binds us. Even when I stay silent, the world around me is full of life and magic, and simply observing it is enough to understand its essence.