The months following Luke's first birthday passed quietly beneath the wide skies of North Barns.
Life in the small farming village rarely changed. Farmers rose before sunrise, worked the fields until dusk, and returned home with tired bodies and muddy boots.
For the villagers, time flowed in a steady and predictable rhythm.
For Luke, however, those months marked the beginning of something far more important.
After more than a year of quietly observing the world around him, he had finally decided it was time to attempt something new.
Today… I'll try to release mana.
Absorbing mana had become almost effortless. The faint gray particles drifting invisibly through the air naturally gathered toward him, slowly flowing into his body like mist drawn into a current. But despite how easily he could absorb it, releasing the mana was another matter entirely. For days he experimented whenever he was alone, concentrating deeply while trying to push the stored energy outside his body.
Nothing happened.
Again and again he tried different approaches, but the mana stubbornly remained inside him.
There has to be a way, he thought in frustration. If it can enter my body, it should be able to leave it too.
Several more days passed before something finally changed. One quiet afternoon, while lying in his crib, Luke tried a different approach. Instead of forcing the mana outward, he imagined it flowing naturally from his heart and traveling through his body before exiting into the air.
It was nothing more than a simple image in his mind.
Yet suddenly, something responded.
A thin strand of gray light slowly slipped from his body and hovered in front of him like a fragile thread.
Luke froze.
Wait… did that just work?
He focused carefully, afraid that the phenomenon might disappear if he lost concentration. The thin strand trembled in the air before slowly thickening. Under the guidance of his thoughts, the thread began to condense and solidify until a tiny pebble formed and dropped onto the wooden crib beside him with a faint tap.
Luke stared at it in stunned silence.
I… made that.
He replayed the moment in his mind again and again. The imagined flow of mana from his heart. The image guiding the energy outward. Slowly the answer became clear.
Imagination.
If his mind guided the mana, then the key to using magic was not simply gathering mana but shaping it through thought.
The realization filled him with excitement.
So the answer was imagination all along.
Luke tried again and this time he carefully imagined the mana leaving his body as thin threads, gathering together in front of him. Slowly the faint strands appeared once more, drifting through the air like strands of silk. He guided them together, compressing them until they formed another small pebble.
But the moment it fully materialized, exhaustion crashed over him.
His vision darkened instantly.
Despite having the mind of an adult, his body was still that of a baby. Manipulating mana placed an enormous strain on him, and before he could react, he had already fallen asleep.
In the days that followed, Luke continued practicing whenever he could. His routine became simple and repetitive: drink milk, sleep, absorb mana, attempt magic, and collapse from exhaustion. Progress was slow, but it was progress nonetheless.
Meanwhile, life around him continued as usual.
One morning Beth sat near the window feeding Luke while John prepared to head to the fields. Sunlight filtered gently through the shutters, casting warm light across the room.
John glanced toward the crib and chuckled. "He's watching us again. Feels like the boy understands everything we're saying."
Beth smiled softly. "He's just curious. Babies watch the world while they learn."
At that moment a voice called from outside the house. "John! You heading to the fields or planning to sleep all day?"
John laughed. "That's Gilbert."
A moment later the tall farmer appeared at the doorway and leaned inside. "Well now, the little one's growing fast," Gilbert said cheerfully.
Jonathan followed behind him and crouched beside the crib. "Hey Luke," he said while waving his hand.
Luke stared back quietly.
If only you knew, he thought.
Neighbors visited from time to time as well.
Edward the hunter often stopped by after returning from the forest, while Racquel occasionally helped Beth with housework.
Many of them commented on the same thing.
"He's a quiet child," Edward remarked one afternoon while looking down at Luke.
Racquel nodded thoughtfully. "Quiet children usually grow into thoughtful men."
Luke listened silently to their conversations while continuing his secret training whenever he could.
And slowly, little by little, his control over mana improved.
—
Another year passed before Luke truly noticed it.
His second birthday arrived quietly, much like everything else in North Barns. The harvest that year had not been particularly good, and Old Smith had traveled to a nearby town for work, leaving the village a little quieter than usual. Even so, John and Beth insisted on holding a small celebration.
Gilbert and Jonathan arrived first that evening, followed not long after by Edward the hunter carrying something wrapped in cloth.
"Happy birthday, little Luke," Edward said as he placed the bundle on the table.
John raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"
Edward grinned as he unwrapped the cloth to reveal a plump chicken. "Figured the boy deserved a proper meal."
John laughed. "That's a generous gift."
"The fields was kind this week," Edward replied with a shrug.
Beth smiled warmly as she took the chicken. "Thank you, Edward. This will make a wonderful stew."
Soon the small house filled with the comforting aroma of simmering broth as Beth prepared a pot of chicken stew using vegetables from their garden. As the meal was served, Beth placed a small bowl in front of Luke and glanced toward John.
"Well," she said thoughtfully, "he's two years old now."
John nodded. "I suppose it's time."
Beth gently handed Luke a spoon. "Looks like someone's ready for real food."
Luke examined the bowl with curiosity before taking his first bite. The stew was warm and satisfying, though noticeably plain.
Not bad… but definitely lacking flavor, he thought.
The vegetables were fresh and the chicken tender, but the seasoning was minimal. As the adults continued eating, their conversation gradually turned toward the hardships of the season.
"Salt's getting expensive again," Gilbert complained.
John nodded grimly. "Trade caravans haven't passed through in months."
Edward shrugged. "Salt's always been valuable out here and it's hard to transport."
Luke listened quietly while eating.
Even seasoning is expensive… definitely a medieval economy.
But as the meal continued, Luke suddenly felt something different inside his body. The mana he had accumulated felt lighter, almost as if an invisible barrier had disappeared.
Curious, he focused inward and guided the mana outward just as he had practiced before.
To his surprise, the energy responded immediately. Thin strands of mana slipped from his body and gathered in the air before him. Under his concentration, the strands twisted together and slowly compressed into a small lump.
But this time the object looked different.
The surface shimmered faintly under the candlelight with a metallic sheen.
Luke stared at it in amazement.
It looked like metal.
Smooth, dense and solid.
His heart raced with excitement.
My first real magic…
Floating quietly before the two-year-old child was a small lump of solid metal, his very first successful spell.
And for Luke, it was only the beginning.