The capital was alive with noise, colors, and smells. Merchants shouted for attention, children ran around, and stray cats darted between the stalls. Amid the chaos, Aneria slipped quietly through the crowd, her small hands clutching her little notebook. She had a mission—one she had planned for days.
She knew where to find him. The boy, Ian, the one she had read about in her previous life, wandered the alleys near the market. He was alone, vulnerable, and she could feel it—he needed her.
She spotted him soon enough. A group of men, much larger than him, surrounded him, demanding stolen food and coins. His red eyes glimmered with something cruel, cursed by the adults' harshness, and his small shoulders shook. Aneria's chest tightened with sadness.
"No… this isn't right," she whispered.
With a flick of her fingers, a soft blue light flared in her palm, sparkling like morning dew. The men shielded their eyes, distracted, giving her the moment she needed. She darted forward, grabbing Ian's small hand.
"Come with me! Quick!" she said, tugging him gently.
Ian stumbled at first, then let her pull him along. His eyes were wide with astonishment as they ran together, their hands clasped tightly. Aneria's little legs moved as fast as they could carry her, leading them to a large tree just beyond the market, where the noise of the city softened.
Under the tree, Ian leaned against the trunk, breathing heavily, and his eyes filled with tears. Aneria reached into her bag and pulled out a small piece of bread and some fruit. She handed it to him.
Ian hesitated, then accepted it shyly, nibbling at the food while quiet tears slid down his cheeks. "Why… why did you help me? I'm… I'm worthless… and… and isn't this magic?" His voice was small, trembling.
Aneria knelt in front of him, cupping his filthy little chin with her tiny hands, her ocean-blue eyes full of sincerity. "Ian… you are the most precious boy in this world. Don't ever say you're worthless. Not ever."
Ian's ears turned red. His eyes blinked rapidly, a mixture of embarrassment and awe.
Aneria whispered softly, a hint of mischief and warmth in her tone, "Can… you keep my magic a secret?"
Ian's gaze met hers, wide and serious. "I… I promise."
"You're the first to see my magic," she said, smiling. "That makes you precious… just like me."
He looked at her, silent for a moment, then she added, her voice gentle but firm: "You're special, Ian. So don't worry… your future will be beautiful, just like you."
Ian felt something warm blossom in his chest—a feeling he had never known before. Aneria stood, brushing the dirt from her small dress. "You have magic too, just like me. You just didn't know until now. Someone there will help you… go to the Magic Tower when the time comes."
The sun was beginning to dip, casting golden rays through the branches. Aneria started to turn back toward the streets of the city, back to where her parents waited. But Ian called after her, his voice soft but curious.
"What's your name?"
Aneria looked back, smiling, the last rays of sunlight catching in her white hair. "Aneria Geoner… but you can call me Ane."
Ian swallowed nervously, a small smile forming. "You… you can call me Ian."
He hesitated a moment, then asked, his red eyes glowing faintly in the sunset: "If I go to the Magic Tower… or that place… will we ever meet again?"
Aneria's smile was gentle, framed by the warm sunset. Ian's expression softened, awe-struck by her calm confidence.
"Of course we will," she said softly.
(Aneria thought quietly to herself: My favorite Ian… even if the world ends, I'll find you later hehehe )
The wind rustled through the tree branches. Two small hands had met for the first time, but in that brief moment, a bond had formed—a promise, a spark of hope, and a light neither of them would forget.
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