That morning, the air in the village was refreshingly cool.
A gentle warmth accompanied the rising sun as it slowly emerged from the eastern horizon. Its golden rays filtered through the gaps between lush green leaves, spilling across the world below like a blessing that awoke everything it touched.
The serene beauty of nature added to the peaceful charm of Hougwe Village, a quiet settlement resting on the slopes of Gloosween Hill.
The morning breeze moved softly, brushing against Edward's simple clothes, carrying with it the scents of damp earth and the faint fragrance of blooming wildflowers. Beads of dew clung to blades of grass and rooftops, shimmering white as though fine dust made of light floated through the air.
Villagers were already busy with their daily routines. Farmers, eager to make use of every hour of daylight, headed out to their fields with tools slung across their shoulders.
For them, rising early was second nature, a necessity for survival, and perhaps also a joy. They preferred to greet the day with effort and sweat rather than wasting precious hours lingering in bed.
Edward stood at the edge of the small courtyard of the orphanage, stretching his stiff body after a night spent on a hard, uneven mattress.
His small arms reached upward, and he twisted his waist left and right, trying to shake away the dull ache from his back. With a deep inhale, he drew the fresh air into his lungs, filling every corner of his chest, before exhaling slowly.
"Hah…" he murmured, smiling faintly. "That feels so fresh."
Edward was no ordinary boy. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that his origins were cloaked in mystery. Since birth, he had never known who his parents were, nor where he truly came from.
His earliest memories were of the orphanage, and that alone was the only home he had ever known. He grew up there, among other children, in Hougwe Village—perched high on the slopes of Gloosween, itself part of the vast territory of the Huinjou Kingdom in the western continent of Ethyras.
The orphanage was an old, worn-down building, one that had stood for decades. Cracks marred its wooden walls, some of which leaned precariously. Portions of its roof sagged, and rain sometimes dripped into the hallways during storms.
It had never once been fully renovated, not even after all those years. Yet despite its crumbling structure, it was filled with warmth—the warmth of laughter, sibling-like quarrels, and bonds that made the children within feel like a family.
There had been a moment long ago that Edward would never forget. He had been much younger then, a small boy crying under the shade of a tree, overwhelmed by sorrow. The reality of not knowing who his parents were, of feeling abandoned, had crushed his little heart.
At that moment, Bu Selner—the woman who ran the orphanage—had come to him. She embraced him tenderly and spoke words that remained etched in his memory ever since.
"Edward," she said softly, "when you were still a baby, a beautiful, graceful woman came to me. She entrusted you to my care. She told me that one day, she would return to take you back. Before she left, she placed this necklace in my hands, and asked that I give it to you when you were ready."
It was then that Edward received a necklace....its pendant shaped like a small sword. To him, it was more than a trinket. It was proof that somewhere out there, someone had loved him enough to leave him with hope.
Now, at ten years of age, Edward stood on the cusp of a turning point. In this kingdom, every child, upon reaching their tenth birthday, underwent the Awakening Ceremony...a sacred event where they would receive the gift of mana.
Mana was the mysterious energy flowing through all living beings. It could strengthen the body, heighten senses, and more importantly, serve as the source of powerful magic.
The Awakening was held in the Hall of Ascension, a grand place where the future of countless children was determined. Today was Edward's day. His heart pounded with excitement. He clenched his fists tightly, fire blazing in his eyes, and shouted toward the sky with all his might:
"I will succeed!"
The cry rang out across the courtyard, loud enough to rouse someone nearby.
"Huaaah…" came a sleepy voice. "Edward, what's with all the shouting? It's so early in the morning."
It was Silva, rubbing her eyes as she stepped outside.
Edward scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Uh… sorry, sis. I didn't mean to wake you up. I'm just too excited. I could barely sleep last night. Today's my tenth birthday, and… I can't wait for my mana awakening!"
Silva sighed, pressing her palm against her forehead. "Oh, heavens… for a moment I thought something terrible had happened. Turns out you were just excited about that."
"But, Silva…" Edward pouted. "I really can't wait. Time feels like it's moving so slowly. What's wrong with me for feeling this way?"
Silva crouched down to meet his eyes, her lips curling into a tender smile. Her hand gently ruffled his messy brown hair.
"Silly boy. Of course you're eager it's natural. But listen to me, Edward. The moment you awaken your mana, your life will change. It's not just about excitement.
You need to think about what comes afterward, about the responsibilities you'll carry. Prepare yourself, not just your heart, but your mind too. That's what matters."
Edward froze, her words sinking deep into his thoughts.
"Hey," Silva said, flicking his forehead lightly, "don't just space out. I'll go with you to the Hall of Ascension later, so don't worry. For now, why don't you wake up the others? They've got lessons with Lucy today."
Edward blinked, then quickly nodded. "Right!" He dashed toward the orphanage door but paused for a moment before entering.
From a distance, he looked back at Silva. She stood bathed in the golden glow of morning light, tying up her long black hair while gazing at the sky. For Edward, she seemed almost otherworldly her beauty magnified by the sunlight.
Her long, flowing hair, her sharp yet gentle blue eyes, her elegant lashes, and the delicate curve of her brows. Her lips were soft pink, and her tall frame carried an aura of strength despite her young age. Her skin was pale yet radiant, as if untouched by hardship.
To Edward, she wasn't just beautiful. She was an ideal someone to look up to, someone who had always cared for the orphanage children like her own siblings.
Silva was indeed admired by every child in the home. She was the only biological daughter of Bu Selner, and she carried herself with kindness and responsibility beyond her years.
At just seventeen, she had already achieved what few could dream of—graduating from the prestigious Zanei Academy, one of the finest academies in all of Ethyras.
After her graduation, she had been recruited into the Huinjou Kingdom's front-line defense division as a warrior.
But tragedy had changed her. Three years later, after her mother's death, Silva abandoned the battlefield. Edward still remembered the day she returned. She had stepped through the orphanage gates clad in steel armor, a bloodstained dagger in her hand. Her face was pale, her body trembling, tears streaming down her cheeks. That was the day she swore never to fight again. No matter how many letters the kingdom sent demanding her return, she never responded.
"Edward! Why are you standing there daydreaming again?" Silva called, pulling him from his reverie. "Go wake the others. They've got lessons with Lucy soon."
"Got it, Silva!" Edward replied, darting inside.
He passed through the creaky old living room and pushed open the door to the children's shared room. The wooden hinges groaned in protest.
Inside was a modest space, only about three by four meters, where Edward lived alongside Alex, Thomas, Serly, and Alice.
In those four walls, countless memories of laughter, fights, tears, and joy had been made. To Edward, they weren't just friends—they were family.
He strode toward the window and pulled back the worn curtain. Sunlight flooded the room.
"Come on, everyone, wake up! It's morning! Don't forget, you've got lessons with Lucy today!" he shouted.
Alice, the youngest—a five-year-old girl with messy hair—rubbed her eyes and yawned. "Big brother Edward… what time is it?"
"It's already five o'clock. Up you get," Edward said, patting Thomas on the shoulder. The boy groaned, still half-asleep.
One by one, the children began stirring, their tiny hands fumbling to fold their blankets and straighten their beds. Their movements were clumsy but sincere.
"And don't forget," Edward added with authority, "it's your turn for chores today!"
"Yes, big brother!" they chimed in unison.
Edward smiled as he left the room. From afar, he saw little Alice already sweeping the living room floor, her tiny hands gripping a broom almost too big for her. The sight tugged at his heart, reminding him of when she was just a baby, crying endlessly.
Then his gaze shifted to Alex and Thomas outside, sweeping the front yard. The two were mischievous troublemakers, always full of energy, but even they couldn't resist Silva's stern voice when she scolded them.
Suddenly, Edward felt a tap on his shoulder.
"Edward, what are you standing around for? Go help Silva with the cooking," Serly said matter-of-factly before hurrying away.
Edward chuckled softly. Serly, eight years old, was always the bossy one. She loved scolding him, especially about chores, even though she herself couldn't cook. But she was thoughtful and caring despite her sharp tongue.
Edward entered the kitchen and found Silva struggling with vegetables.
"Where were you? Look at this—your sister is about to lose a finger trying to cut these properly. You know I can't cook well," Silva complained.
Edward grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, I was checking on the kids for a bit."
"Well, now that you're here, make yourself useful."
He nodded, stepping in. With practiced ease, he handled the spices, stirred the pot, and soon the warm aroma of broth filled the kitchen. Before long, steaming bowls of soup were ready to serve.
"Kids, food's ready!" Silva called out.
The children rushed in, their laughter echoing through the hall as they gathered at the table.
Alex and Thomas were already reaching for their spoons when Silva's stern voice stopped them.
"Alex, Thomas! What's the rule?"
The boys froze, then sheepishly answered, "Wash hands first…" They darted to the basin, leaving the others giggling.
Edward couldn't help but smile at the scene.
"Edward, why are you smiling like that?" Serly asked, narrowing her eyes.
"Nothing," he replied. "Just remembering when they were smaller. They've grown so fast."
Serly's gaze softened. "Yeah… time really does fly. I still remember when I first taught them to read."
Edward nodded silently. This was his family. Whatever awaited him after the Awakening, he knew one thing for sure—he wanted to protect this home.