Terradis, 22nd of Aureon, Year 578 of the Elythera Calendar

  The muted light of the Umbrana season filtered through the treetops, tinting the river with amber reflections. It was not a sunny day, but neither was it overcast like the previous week. The sky was veiled by high, thin clouds that allowed warm rays of light to pierce through now and then. The air smelled of damp leaves and fresh earth, blended with the steady murmur of water rushing downstream.

  On the riverbank, just a few meters from the old wooden bridge, Sora stood beside Seralya, deep in one of their magic training sessions.

  Before them, a circle of scorched grass bore witness to hours of practice. A small sphere of fire hovered above Sora’s palm, burning with a steady glow, its orange light flickering softly across his face.

  "Keep your focus. Don’t let it fade yet," instructed Seralya, her voice firm but calm.

  Sora nodded silently. The flames fluttered gently, responding to his breathing. Then, with a precise motion of his hand, the sphere fizzled out, leaving behind only a thin wisp of white smoke.

  Seralya exhaled slowly, almost smiling.

  "Perfect... again."

  It was the fourth time in a row he’d succeeded. Months ago, Sora could barely keep a spark alive for a few seconds. Now, he had mastered not only Ignis Orbis, but several other basic and intermediate spells that had once seemed out of reach.

  Each new spell forced Seralya to restructure her teaching strategems, this child advanced at an alarming pace. What took others years to learn, he grasped in mere weeks. He didn’t just repeat gestures or incantations, he understood the essence of magic, as though mana itself flowed in tune with his will.

  Seralya didn’t say it aloud, but deep down, she was fascinated. Sora’s gaze, focused yet serene belonged to someone who had lived far more than a child should, and after seeing his memories, she understood that better than anyone.

  A gentle breeze swept through, ruffling Sora’s blue hair. A few dry leaves rolled to his feet. The boy stretched, satisfied, letting out a quiet sigh of relief.

  "I think... I finally did it the way you wanted, Master."

  "At last," Seralya replied with a faint smile. "I'm glad to see you like this."

  It had been several months since their relationship had changed. The initial mistrust and tension had faded away, replaced by a quiet sense of companionship. To the point that Sora had shown her his secret place: that clearing by the river, a spot that had been his and his alone until then, where he used to practice magic in secret.

  The sun was beginning to dip behind the forest, painting the water in golden hues. Nanami would arrive soon. Around this hour, she usually showed up sometimes bringing a basket, or simply looking to spend time with him. Lately, she didn’t even need to ask where to find him; following the river’s murmur was enough to bring her straight to them.

  Sora looked up, watching the ripples on the water and the sky’s reflection in it. There was something comforting in that routine: training with his master, sharing laughter, then seeing Nanami come running through the trees with that bright smile that always lit up the clearing.

  The sound of the river filled the quiet spaces between the shifting winds. Their training had been going on for a good while now, so they decided to take a break. Seralya settled on a moss-covered rock, legs crossed with a quiet elegance, while Sora let himself collapse onto the still-warm grass.

  "Well, Sora," she said with a calm smile. "With that, you've now mastered basic fire magic. Soon, we’ll start moving on to the basic forms of the other elements."

  "Really?" he asked, sitting up with excitement.

  "I imagine that by the end of this year, or early next, we might even advance to intermediate magic."

  Sora nodded, visibly excited. He’d been waiting for those words for months.

  "Master, I have a question," he finally said. "How many levels of magic are there? We've only been working with basic magic so far, right?"

  Seralya took a deep breath before answering.

  "That's correct. Right now, we're only working with basic magic. My goal is for you to master the elemental forms in each level. It will be a long process, but with your magical affinity, it's the best way for you to become a well-rounded mage."

  Sora listened attentively.

  "And how many levels are there in total?"

  "Four," she replied without hesitation. "Basic magic, intermediate magic, advanced magic, and..."

  She paused, and Sora tilted his head, curious.

  "And? What's the last one?"

  "Ancestral magic," she said at last, her voice quieter. "Though it hasn’t been studied for centuries, and nowadays it’s considered little more than a myth. It’s not explicitly forbidden, but the Conclave of Astaria has turned it into something of a taboo. It’s too powerful, and it wouldn’t be in their interest for the people to learn it. With time, much of that knowledge was lost... or erased."

  Sora blinked, intrigued.

  "Do you know it, Master?"

  Seralya gave a faint smile, like someone guarding a precious secret.

  "I know some fragments of it. In fact, even though the Conclave forbids it, their elite soldiers use it… or at least, one spell in particular."

  Sora straightened his back, completely attentive.

  "And what spell would that be?"

  The woman fixed her gaze on him, her eyes gleaming with a serious intensity.

  "I’ll tell you about it later. It’s still far too soon for that. For now, focus on mastering your foundations. If you try to touch the forbidden before you're ready... it could consume you."

  Sora nodded with a slight shiver as the sound of the river filled the silence between them.

  "In essence," Seralya continued, now with a gentler tone, "the four levels determine the depth of the bond between a mage and mana. There are no shortcuts, only steps. Each one you master will bring you closer to understanding the true nature of magic."

  Sitting on the ground, arms resting over his knees, Sora let her words echo in his mind.

  "What kind of ancestral spell would the Conclave’s elite knights be using...?"

  That thought lingered for a moment before fading into the whisper of the river.

  "Alright, Sora," Seralya suddenly said, breaking the lull. "Break time is over. Let’s resume the lesson."

  She rose with her usual grace and looked at him with an approving expression.

  "As I already said, you’ve mastered basic fire magic. So we'll move on to the next elemental branch: its opposite. And for this one in particular, this place is perfect."

  Sora jumped up instantly, excitement flickering in his eyes.

  "Are we going with... water?"

  "Exactly," Seralya replied with a smile. "The water elemental branch."

  That idea alone sent a thrill of anticipation through him. A new element at last. He could feel the damp air by the riverside responding to his enthusiasm. But before his master could continue with further instructions, light footsteps rustled between the trees.

  The boy raised his head just in time to hear a familiar voice:

  "Soraaa!"

  His heart relaxed instantly. Between the trunks appeared Nanami, running with her usual contagious energy. The wind lifted her chestnut hair as she waved with a beaming smile. Upon reaching the clearing, she drew a deep breath, gave a polite bow to Seralya, then greeted Sora with her usual bright cheerfulness.

  Seralya responded with a warm smile. She’d already grown used to Nanami’s presence, she often joined them during the lessons, always promising not to interrupt. And she kept that promise. She would sit quietly at a distance, watching every movement, every spell, fascinated by the invisible dance of mana.

  However, every now and then, Sora noticed something different in her gaze. There was a faint unease in her eyes, subtle but unmistakable, that flickered across her expression whenever he learned something new. And though Nanami did her best to hide it, Sora could see it.

  That’s why, at the end of each day, once Seralya returned home, Sora and Nanami would walk together to the White-Crest Tree. There, under its branches, he would teach her what he had learned or at least, that was the plan.

  Before practicing spells, Nanami had to master mana meditation, the same exercise Sora had perfected with Seralya.

  Months went by, and little by little, Nanami succeeded. She was now able to manifest a mana orb with the same serenity as Sora, keeping it floating in front of her hands without shaking or dispersing. Sora, upon seeing it, was genuinely astonished, he had expected it to be much harder for her.

  It was nearly time for Nanami to advance to practical lessons. But Sora felt unsure, not out of doubt in her… but in himself.

  He had never been patient enough to teach. Not in this life… nor in the previous one.

  Seralya resumed the lesson in her usual calm yet firm tone.

  "Alright, Sora, listen carefully. Water magic responds to inner calm. You don’t control it with force, but with fluidity. Close your eyes… feel the moisture in the air, let the mana flow from your chest through your hands, and use that energy to condense the water around you."

  Sora followed the instructions with full focus, steadying his breathing until the air around him began to subtly tremble. Within seconds, a thin mist took shape in front of him and condensed into a small sphere of water hovering over his palms.

  "Like this…? Is this alright?" he asked hopefully.

  Seralya nodded in approval.

  "Not bad for a first try. Now, keep the flow stable."

  But Sora, his eyes gleaming with excitement, decided to take it one step further. He closed his eyes again and increased the flow of mana. The sphere began to grow, swelling like a bubble until it reached the size of a melon.

  For a moment, it looked like he had it under control… until the water warped suddenly and collapsed all at once, drenching him in a cold and unexpected downpour.

  "Aaagh!" Sora yelled, soaked from head to toe.

  Seralya blinked once, then let out a soft chuckle, covering her mouth with elegant composure.

  "That’s what happens when you try to show off. Take it slow, and don’t overdo it."

  "S-sorry, master…" Sora muttered, cheeks burning red, his hair dripping.

  Behind them, Nanami burst into laughter, doubling over slightly as she held her stomach.

  "Hahaha! Sora, you look like a fish freshly scooped out of the river!"

  The boy lowered his head, face even redder as water dripped from the tip of his nose.

  Seralya smiled softly and raised both hands. She whispered something under her breath; a sky-blue glow wrapped around Sora, and in an instant, all the water on his clothes and hair began to float away, forming countless droplets that gathered into a compact, glass-like orb in front of her.

  With a fluid gesture, she walked towards the riverbank and released the sphere, which dissolved into the water with a soft splash.

  Sora watched her, wide-eyed.

  What a practical use… she dried my clothes completely. It’s small, but it shows how useful magic can be beyond combat.

  Seralya turned to him with a calm smile.

  "True magic isn’t about destruction, Sora. It’s about understanding how things flow… and how to return them to balance."

  Sora nodded, still amazed, while Nanami kept laughing a few steps away.

  Hours went by in a blur of river murmurs, whispered incantations, and the subtle crackle of mana. When the sun finally dipped behind the treetops, Seralya brought the lesson to an end.

  "That will be all for today, Sora," she declared, her tone serene yet satisfied. "You’ve progressed more than I expected."

  "Thank you, master," Sora said with a polite bow.

  Seralya raised a hand in farewell and began walking back towards the village, her footsteps fading into the damp grass.

  The clearing fell silent, save for the river’s soft murmur and the occasional bird call. Nanami was perched on a smooth rock, feet swinging as she watched the flowing water with a content smile.

  Sora watched her for a moment, then broke the silence with a playful tone.

  "So… shall we begin your lessons under the White-Crest Tree, Nanami?"

  She looked up, eyes sparkling with excitement.

  "Yes! Master Sora," she said, striking a playful pose and bowing theatrically.

  The boy couldn’t help but laugh.

  "Don’t tease me, today’s serious practice."

  "I know, I know…" she replied between giggles as she stood from the rock.

  They headed down the forest trail together, leaves crunching under their steps. The air smelled of damp wood and earth, while the sunset light filtering through the trees painted everything in copper hues.

  Soon they reached the hill overlooking the village, the White-Crest Tree awaited them. Its branches, still adorned with a few late Umbrana blossoms, swayed gently in the breeze.

  Nanami settled into her usual spot on the grass and adopted the meditation posture Sora had taught her. She crossed her legs, set her hands on her knees, and closed her eyes. Her breathing grew slow and steady.

  Within seconds, a soft blue glow began to shine between her palms: the mana orb.

  Sora watched her with quiet pride, arms crossed.

  "Very good. Keep your focus as always. Don’t rush, let it flow."

  Nanami nodded without opening her eyes, her serene expression reflecting the tranquility shaped by weeks of training.

  The silence that followed was comfortable, almost magical. Only the sound of the wind rustling through the white blossoms filled the air.

  Sora had learned that he didn’t need to make Nanami meditate for four hours like he’d done alone. One was enough.

  After that time had passed, he stepped closer and spoke quietly:

  "All right, Nanami. You can stop for today."

  The orb slowly dissolved, its glow fading away into nothing. Nanami opened her eyes and exhaled calmly before leaning back against the trunk of the White-Crest Tree. A few petals, stirred by the breeze, fell gently onto her hair.

  "You’ve got the meditation pretty well mastered now," Sora said, smiling with pride. "I think it’s time to move on to the next step… though I’m not entirely sure where to start."

  "So?" she asked, tilting her head.

  "We’ll figure it out next time we’re here. Sound good?"

  "Of course!" she replied, eyes sparkling with excitement. "I can’t wait to learn how to shoot fireballs like you, Sora!"

  He let out a small laugh, scratching the back of his neck.

  "It is fun, yeah... but remember, it’s not a game. You could get hurt, or accidentally hurt someone else."

  Nanami pouted and lowered her head.

  "I know, I know… I was just joking."

  Sora laughed again and gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder.

  "I know, you troublemaker."

  The silence that followed was brief, broken only by the whisper of the wind through the branches. Suddenly, Nanami looked up with a radiant smile.

  "Hey, Sora… aren't you excited for the Harvest Festival? It’s only two days away! And this year we can finally go together!"

  Sora blinked, surprised, and a smile instantly bloomed on his face.

  "Of course I’m excited. I finally got to fulfill the promise I made to you last year."

  "Exactly!" she exclaimed. "And this time I'm going to show you around. I know all the best stalls by heart."

  "Perfect," said Sora with a laugh. "Then I’ll leave it all to you, official festival guide."

  Nanami nodded proudly, puffing out her chest.

  By then, the sun had sunk behind the hills, dyeing the sky a soft violet. They kept talking for a good while longer, sharing jokes and memories while the first star lit up above them. Eventually, they headed back home together, walking under the warm orange glow of the lanterns beginning to light up Rulid.

  Not long after they arrived, Nanami’s mother came to pick her up. The two families were close, so the farewell was brief and warm, like always. Nanami waved with a grin before disappearing down the path to her house, and Sora, still buzzing with ideas, climbed up to his room.

  The only light in the room came from a manaquartz lamp on his desk. Shadows stretched long across the walls as Sora took out a notebook and began sketching. He’d been filling pages for weeks with drawings, gears, formulas, and diagrams that maybe no one else would understand.

  For months, after countless trials and errors, he had finally managed to produce something that felt like a treasure: tracing paper.

  It had been exhausting, but once he received the tools he’d commissioned from Olbran’s carpentry workshop and from Garrik the blacksmith… he was able to make it a reality.

  He still remembered the look on his parents’ faces when he showed them the first translucent sheet: Tsukari stared at it in disbelief, and after a long pause, Alvaron broke into a wide, proud grin.

  At first, his father hadn’t fully believed in the idea, though he supported him anyway, paying out of his own pocket for the tools Sora requested. But once he saw the result, he was utterly amazed.

  Sora, however, wasn’t entirely satisfied. The paper was functional, yes, but not as thin or as durable as what he’d known in his previous life. It lacked texture, flexibility… but it worked.

  Over the following months, he gradually perfected it, adjusting proportions and materials until he achieved a far more stable product.

  It was then that Alvaron insisted the invention shouldn’t stay confined to their home. He convinced his son to teach the process to a workshop he himself founded in Rulid, investing his own money to set it up.

  Of course, Alvaron made sure Sora received the share of profits he deserved.

  At first, Sora was reluctant. He didn’t want to profit from something that, to him, was just another step toward future projects. But his father talked him into it, and he eventually agreed. Alvaron even opened an account for him at the Guild Trade Bank, a network with branches throughout the kingdom.

  In just a few weeks, the tracing paper became a hit. Scribes, artisans, even guild apprentices began ordering it by the bundle. It sold as fast as it was produced, Alvaron, ever the ambitious one, was already thinking of expanding the business into other regions of Elythera.

  Sora, however, didn’t seem too interested. For him, the breakthrough wasn’t an end, but a means.

  The paper was only the first step… the foundation for the inventions that would one day introduce fragments of his former world into this one, once the paper was perfected, Sora’s curiosity quickly turned elsewhere. Something that had intrigued him ever since he first saw them: the manaquartz lamps.

  They were common objects in the homes of Rulid—small sources of light that never seemed to fade. To most people, they were simply natural magical artifacts, stones that glowed when night fell.

  But Sora knew there was something more to them.

  One time, he had held one of those stones in his hands, a translucent gem with a bluish tint that emitted a faint glow when placed inside the lamp. He noticed something that escaped everyone else: at the bottom of the housing, two points of the gem were joined by a small piece of metal, and only then did the light come to life.

  That thought had haunted him for days.

  It can’t just be a magical reaction… this is something else.

  The glow it emitted was clearly magic; he could feel the energy flowing through it thanks to his Soul Panel. But the way it activated—the reaction that occurred when its ends were joined by a conductor, was unmistakably similar to something from his former world.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “It’s just like a battery…” he murmured one night, staring at a lit lamp on his desk.

  That realization consumed him. He spent hours just observing it, taking notes, sketching diagrams in his notebook.

  What if manaquartz wasn’t just a magical catalyst, but an energy source? What if it could be used to power something else?

  This mystery became his new obsession. Making paper and drawing schematics was no longer enough; he needed to understand how this gemstone worked.

  The spark burning inside him wasn’t just curiosity… it was the same passion he'd felt in his former life, when he still dreamed of building the impossible.

  The next morning, Sora couldn’t stop thinking about the manaquartz stones.

  He’d spent hours mulling over how he might study them. Getting his hands on one wouldn’t be hard, they were common enough in any home in Elythera but how on earth would he measure their energy?

  How could I do it without proper instruments?

  He wasn’t an engineer in his past life, and only remembered the basics of electricity. Yet the thought of devising his own method to measure something as fundamental as energy thrilled him.

  He would be the first in this world to work with electricity… and with magic besides.

  The notion made him smile.

  What sort of inventions could be born from something as powerful as combining magic and science?

  He spent much of the day scribbling notes, drawing diagrams, and mapping out ideas in his tracing-paper notebook. The glow of the oil lamp lit up his desk as line after line of sketches and calculations took shape in his hand.

  Until, suddenly, a completely different thought crossed his mind.

  He remembered what he’d said to Nanami under the White Crest Tree:

  “Next time, we’ll go beyond just magical meditation.”

  Sora leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling.

  How am I supposed to teach her the things I’ve learned from Master Seralya…?

  He thought about it for a few more minutes, tapping his fingers on the desk, until a sudden idea made him sit up straight.

  What if I just ask Master Seralya to teach her too? Would she agree?

  With that thought, resolved, he closed his notebook and put it away carefully. Then he took a deep breath, stood up, and headed for Seralya’s room. Outside the window, the sky had turned a warm golden hue, the last light of afternoon. Tomorrow was the Harvest Festival.

  Sora stopped at the master’s study door and knocked gently.

  A calm voice responded from within:

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s me, Master. May I come in?”

  “Enter,” she answered.

  Sora opened the door carefully. The study was bathed in the soft blue glow of a manaquartz lamp, its light casting gentle shadows across the walls. Seralya was seated at her desk, poring over ancient tomes and scattered notes. But when she noticed his presence, she lifted her gaze, her attention fully on him.

  “What is it, Sora?” she asked in her serene tone.

  He stepped forward, clasping his hands in front of him, visibly nervous.

  “Master… I’ve been thinking about the mission the goddess Astaria entrusted to me.”

  “I know,” she replied, nodding gravely. “I saw it in your memories. I remember every word.”

  Sora took a steadying breath.

  “Then you understand I can’t fulfill that mission alone.”

  Seralya said nothing, but her eyes urged him to continue.

  “I’ll need allies,” he went on, “but not just anyone. Only people I can trust completely… and that’s where Nanami comes in.”

  A faint shadow crossed Seralya’s expression.

  Sora lowered his gaze a bit, speaking more softly now.

  “I don’t want her to be in danger, Master. But I also don’t want to hurt her. Sooner or later, I’ll have to leave home and travel to the capital… and I’m certain Nanami will want to come with me. If I refuse, if I leave her behind… I will wound her deeply. I’d break her trust.”

  A quiet moment followed. The blue flame of the lamp flickered faintly.

  “But I can’t take her with me if she’s a burden,” he added, lifting his gaze with quiet resolve. “That’s why I thought… why not train her alongside me? If she learns magic, if she becomes strong then she could walk beside me by her own choice. She’d be an ally, not someone I’d need to protect at all costs.”

  Silence lingered for a few seconds.

  Seralya clasped her fingers together atop the desk, thinking. His words were reasonable, too reasonable for someone his age.

  “I see…” she finally said with a quiet sigh. “You want to share your burden.”

  Sora nodded.

  “I want to share my path.”

  Seralya stared at him for a long moment. Her gaze, once cold and distant, had grown warm… almost maternal.

  She remained silent a few seconds longer. Then she placed her elbows on the desk, fingers intertwined.

  “Very well,” she said at last. “But it won’t be easy, Sora. If I take her as my apprentice, I’ll have to start from scratch with her.”

  Sora scratched his neck, a little embarrassed.

  “Well… not exactly from scratch, Master. For the past few months, Nanami’s been asking me to teach her a bit of magic… so I showed her what you taught me about mana meditation.”

  He paused, then added gently:

  “At first it was hard for her, but now she can manifest her own orb without any effort. Just like I did, when you decided I was ready for practical lessons.”

  Seralya’s eyes widened slightly.

  Not because he had taught her deep down, she had already suspected that but because of the result.

  “She can manifest it that stably?” she asked, leaning forward. “That’s… impressive. In your case, I understand, Sora—you have Astaria’s blessing. But Nanami doesn’t have that advantage. How was she able to achieve it so quickly?”

  Sora smiled, a mix of pride and affection in his tone.

  “Nanami’s really talented, Master. She’s incredibly focused… and you can feel the dedication she puts into every lesson.”

  He paused briefly, lowering his gaze with a subtle, fond smile.

  “Honestly… I think she even has more patience than I do.”

  Seralya studied him quietly and for the first time, allowed herself a soft chuckle.

  “I’m not surprised,” she said warmly. “Women with determination often go further than men expect.”

  Sora blinked, cheeks flushing slightly.

  “I guess… yeah.”

  The master leaned back in her chair, thoughtful, as the cool blue glow of the manaquartz lamp lit her face.

  She could feel it this wasn’t just a whim. There was something deeper behind the boy’s request. A conviction. The desire to avoid repeating a past she had seen with her own eyes.

  Seralya considered it a few moments more before speaking with resolve.

  “Very well,” she said at last. “I will take Nanami as my apprentice as well… but”

  Sora tilted his head.

  “But…?”

  The master looked straight at him, a faint smile on her lips.

  “But you will have to ask her parents for permission. I don’t want to teach her magic in secret. They must know and agree.”

  Sora’s eyes widened.

  “Ask… her parents? Me?”

  He’d spoken with Nanami’s parents before, of course but always about trivial things. She was usually the one who came to his house with her mother, not the other way around. The idea made him a little nervous.

  “Uh… All right,” he said at last, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish smile. “I’ll take care of that, Master.”

  Seralya nodded, content.

  “Perfect. Then it’s settled.”

  She stacked a few papers on the desk, then added:

  “By the way, there will be no magic lessons tomorrow. We’ll take the day off for the festival.”

  Sora smiled at that.

  “Understood, Master. Will you be walking around the village to see it?”

  Seralya let out a soft laugh.

  “I might take a stroll, but I won’t stay long. I’ve seen too many festivals in my life. It’s nothing new for me.”

  Sora looked at her with a serious, almost gentle expression.

  “You should enjoy those little things more, Master. Trust me I know what I’m talking about. In my previous life, I never did… and, well you know the rest.”

  Those words struck something deep within her. For a brief moment, Seralya fell silent. In her mind, the images of Sora’s memories came back with unsettling clarity: the loneliness, the exhaustion, the hollow gaze of a man who had let the small joys of life slip by.

  “You’re right, Sora,” she said softly. “Thank you for the advice.”

  He smiled and bowed his head respectfully.

  “Good night, Master.”

  “Rest well, Sora.”

  The boy said his farewells and stepped out, closing the door softly behind him. The hallway was quiet, lit only by the pale blue glow of manaquartz lamps. As he descended the stairs, he couldn’t help but think about what awaited him the next day: the first festival he would truly enjoy, and the first step toward fulfilling a heartfelt promise.

  The next morning, Sora woke earlier than usual.

  The air smelled of freshly baked bread and dried flowers, and the distant clamor of the town already hinted at the bustle of festival preparations. He got dressed with unusual energy, this was the first Harvest Festival he’d be able to enjoy outside his home.

  He had breakfast with his family and spent the morning in his room, absorbed in sketches and notes in his notebook. Yet no matter how hard he tried to focus, his thoughts kept circling back to the same thing: Nanami will be coming for me soon.

  After lunch, when the sun began to dip slightly, he decided to get ready. He picked a light shirt and a casual jacket, more formal than usual and made his way downstairs with a spring in his step.

  There, in the sitting room by the window, sat Tsukari and little Kanade. The mother was embroidering a cloth with golden thread, while the baby played with a ribbon. Upon seeing Sora, Tsukari smiled gently.

  “Well, someone looks excited today,” she said with playful warmth.

  “And how could I not be?” he replied, stepping closer.

  Kanade noticed him then, letting out a delighted babble as she reached for him. Sora leaned down and let her grab hold of his finger her tiny hand clutching it tightly as if refusing to let go.

  Tsukari laughed softly.

  “It seems your little sister doesn’t want to let you leave, Sora.”

  “So it seems,” he said with a tender smile. He leaned closer and whispered to the baby:

  “Don’t worry, Kanade. When you’re older, we’ll go to the festival together, okay?”

  Kanade giggled again, flailing her hands. Tsukari watched them with shimmering eyes, clearly touched by the moment.

  “Mother,” Sora said as he lifted his head, “aren’t you going to the festival today?”

  “We went into town this morning,” she replied. “But I don’t want to expose Kanade to all the commotion, so I’ll be staying home this year.”

  “That’s fine,” he said with a smile. “I’ll bring you something, then.”

  Tsukari looked at him with mischief in her eyes.

  “Only if you bring me a caramel apple.”

  Sora chuckled. He knew very well how much she loved those treats.

  “Deal.”

  Just then, a familiar voice called from outside, bright and cheerful.

  “Soooraa!”

  It was Nanami… and beside her, the kind voice of her mother.

  Sora turned toward the door, heart skipping with excitement.

  “They’re here,” he said with a smile, quickly heading to greet them.

  When he opened the door, he found Nanami and her mother, Liora, waiting.

  Nanami wore a light outfit in cream and soft blue tones, her hair braided and swaying with each step. She was beaming with happiness.

  Liora bowed politely.

  “Good afternoon, Sora.” Then, peering inside, she added, “Is your mother home?”

  “Yes, come in, please,” he replied, stepping aside.

  Liora entered and was soon greeted by Tsukari, who welcomed her with a warm smile. They began chatting naturally right away, while Kanade, from her mother’s arms, gazed up with curious eyes. Within minutes, the two women were engrossed in friendly conversation, as if they had known each other their whole lives.

  “You two can go ahead,” Tsukari said with a gentle smile toward the children. “Liora will catch up later.”

  “Okay!” Nanami replied with a grin, grabbing Sora by the arm before he could react.

  Both kids burst into laughter as they headed down the path. The afternoon breeze was soft and carried the scents of sweet bread and freshly cut flowers.

  Nanami gave him a teasing look from head to toe, smiling playfully.

  “Well, well… look at you, Sora. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were headed to a royal ceremony instead of a festival.”

  Sora rolled his eyes with a grin.

  “And says the young lady who looks like she stepped out of a painting. Don’t look at me like that, you’re glowing too.”

  Nanami spun playfully on her heels, and the movement made the silver bird-shaped earrings she wore shimmer under the sunlight.

  Sora recognized them instantly.

  “I see you’re still wearing the earrings I gave you.”

  “Eh…?” Nanami blushed in an instant. “O-of course! They’re my favorite!”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Sora replied with a gentle smile.

  She averted her gaze, trying to hide the rosy tint in her cheeks… but she couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at her lips.

  The path toward town was bursting with life. Laughter, music, and the soft chiming of bells echoed from afar. When they passed through the last stretch of woods, the view opened up toward Rulid… and Sora stopped in his tracks for a moment, awestruck.

  Strings of flowers arched between rooftops, manacite lanterns cast multi-colored light across the streets, and ribbons and garlands adorned every house. The air was filled with the scent of spices, fruit, and freshly baked bread.

  “Wow…” Sora murmured, eyes shining. “I don’t remember ever seeing anything like this.”

  Nanami smiled proudly as she watched his expression.

  “I told you, didn’t I? The Rulid Harvest Festival is the best in all of Aureon.”

  Sora nodded, taking in the atmosphere, an explosion of colors, lights, and joyous voices, more alive than anything he’d ever experienced before.

  The festival was in full swing. The streets brimmed with laughter, sweet aromas, and the soft hum of voices blending together. Stalls lined the main square, each adorned with colorful ribbons and manacite lanterns glowing in shades of soft blue, green, and amber.

  Sora and Nanami walked among the crowd, eyes wide as they took everything in. There were stalls with candied fruits, stuffed pastries, small magical trinkets, and others offering handmade curios. Sora bought a pair of sugar-crystal-wrapped sweets and shared them with Nanami as they continued wandering through the cheerful chaos.

  “Mmm! This is delicious,” she said, her cheeks puffed with sweetness.

  “Yeah… though I think you just ate mine too,” Sora replied, feigning annoyance.

  Nanami laughed, wiping a bit of sugar off her face.

  “Don’t look at me like that, it was just… quality control.”

  Sora shook his head with a smile, and the two continued walking through the busy festival streets. Suddenly, Nanami stopped dead in her tracks.

  “Sora, come on! Let’s go to the games!” she exclaimed, grabbing his hand before he could respond.

  She dragged him through the crowd, her energy as infectious as ever, while Sora could barely contain his laughter.

  They arrived at a more spacious area where various stalls offered games with all kinds of prizes. The atmosphere buzzed with children competing, lively music, and flickering lights. Sora’s eyes widened in fascination.

  Festival games…?

  He hadn’t expected to find anything like this in Elythera. He’d imagined a more medieval world with simpler pastimes, but clearly he had underestimated it.

  Nanami stopped before a stall where a grey-bearded man was stacking small metal rings next to rows of wooden pegs. Toys, trinkets, and ornaments hung as prizes behind him.

  “Let’s see what you’ve got, young lady,” the man said with a grin.

  Nanami grabbed one of the rings and spun it between her fingers confidently.

  “I bet I can land more rings than you, Sora,” she declared, her voice dripping with playful challenge.

  Sora raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

  “Oh yeah? We’ll see about that.”

  Nanami smiled, lifting the first ring.

  “Get ready to lose.”

  He smirked back.

  “That’s exactly what everyone who lost to me said.”

  The man behind the counter laughed at their friendly rivalry, while nearby festival-goers began to watch the unfolding scene with interest.

  Nanami gripped the first ring, eyes glittering with that competitive spark Sora knew all too well.

  “Here I go,” she said, and threw the first shot.

  The ring spun through the air and landed with a clear metallic clink, neatly fitting onto the center peg.

  “Well done!” the game master exclaimed, genuinely impressed.

  Sora raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms.

  Pure luck, he thought with a grin.

  But then the second throw also landed perfectly.

  And the third.

  Then the fourth.

  By the time she reached the last one, a small crowd had gathered around, watching with interest. Nanami took a deep breath, threw with practiced grace… and nailed it again.

  Five out of five.

  “Perfect!” announced the game master, clapping enthusiastically. “Not a single miss!”

  Sora froze, mouth slightly open, still holding his first ring.

  What the? Since when is she that precise?

  He had to quickly compose himself before she noticed his shock.

  Nanami turned toward him with a triumphant smile.

  “Now beat that, Sora.”

  “Of course I will,” he replied, feigning confidence. “Though… I can only tie you. You didn’t miss once.”

  “I know,” she said proudly, folding her arms.

  Sora sighed, took the rings, and stepped up to the stall. He felt the metal weight in his palm, adjusted his grip, and took a deep breath.

  He recalled Seralya’s lessons—how precise he had to be when controlling a fireball's trajectory. Focus and rhythm, he repeated to himself.

  The first ring flew… and landed.

  The second did too.

  Then the third, and the fourth.

  The crowd murmured with excitement. Nanami watched him with sparkling eyes, biting her lip in a mix of amusement and tension.

  Only one remained.

  Sora raised his arm, totally focused… but right before he could release it, a strange sensation washed over him. A brief dizziness, then sudden heat pulsing behind his eyes.

  “Wha…?” he muttered.

  The ring slipped from his hand, but the throw was clumsy. It bounced off the edge of the peg and fell silently to the ground.

  “Ah!” Nanami gasped, hands flying to her mouth.

  The game master smiled and patted Sora on the shoulder in a friendly way.

  “Too bad, kid but it looks like the young lady wins.”

  Nanami raised her arms, laughing triumphantly.

  “Told you, Sora!”

  He tried to smile, but his mind was fixed on that strange sensation. That heat… that sudden jolt… what was that?

  Without anyone noticing, he quietly focused and opened his Soul Panel.

  The familiar indicators floated across his vision. Everything seemed normal… except for one detail that made his brow tighten.

  In the top-left corner, just below his health bar, his mana bar was still full but beside it blinked a small red triangle with an exclamation mark in the center.

  What… does that mean?

  The music of the festival continued filling the air, but Sora barely heard it.

  Nanami called his name a few times, waving a hand in front of his face.

  “Sooora! Sooora!”

  He blinked, snapped back to reality.

  “Ah… yeah, sorry,” he said, scratching the back of his head with a nervous smile. “Heh, looks like I lost.”

  Nanami looked at him with concern.

  “Don’t worry, Sora. You only missed by a little. Don’t beat yourself up, okay?”

  “Beat myself up?” he said, feigning confidence. “No way. I’m just… calculating how to defeat you next time.”

  She laughed softly, though her eyes still lingered on him with a hint of doubt. Still, she let it go for the moment, turning toward the game master.

  “I want that one,” she said, pointing at a treat wrapped in crimson paper.

  The man nodded and handed it to her with a smile. Nanami held it for a moment, her expression thoughtful… then turned back to Sora.

  “Here. It’s for you,” she said, offering it to him.

  “Huh? Why?” he asked, genuinely surprised.

  “For the extra sweet I stole earlier,” she replied with a mischievous grin.

  Sora looked at her for a moment before letting out a quiet laugh.

  “If you give me the whole thing, it wouldn’t be any fun.”

  He broke the treat in half and held one piece out to her.

  “Half and half. Deal?”

  Nanami blinked once, then nodded with a warm smile.

  “Deal.”

  They stepped away from the crowd and sat together at the edge of the central fountain, surrounded by lanterns that painted flickering reflections over the water. They ate their prize in comfortable silence, watching the movement of the square.

  The candy tasted gently of honey and red fruits and for a moment, Sora forgot the dizziness, forgot the warning glowing in his Soul Panel.

  It was just him and Nanami, laughing between bites, while music and laughter wrapped around them like a warm blanket.

  Still sitting by the fountain, the two enjoyed the last minutes of the festival when Liora finally found them. They had agreed to meet later, and seeing them laughing together under the dancing evening lights made her smile with both relief and tenderness.

  “Oh, there you are,” she said as she approached, her voice gentle and fond.

  From that point on, Liora stayed with them for the rest of the evening.

  They tried a few more games, tasted new sweets, and laughed nonstop as the manacite lamps lit up across the plaza one by one.

  All the while, Liora watched quietly.

  She had never seen such effortless complicity between the two—how they looked at each other, how they understood each other even without speaking… it warmed her heart deeply.

  As time passed, the music began to fade. Families drifted home with soft chatter and sleepy smiles, and the lights of the village grew dimmer. It was time to leave.

  So the three of them walked back along the lantern-lit path leading out of town, still chatting about the day’s moments. Somewhere between a laugh and a shared memory, a thought crossed Sora’s mind.

  Master Seralya… said I needed to ask their permission.

  He glanced sideways at Liora.

  This was the moment.

  “U-um… Lady Liora, may I ask you something?” he said, tone a little more serious than before.

  Liora looked at him, intrigued.

  “Of course, Sora. What do you need?”

  Sora took a quiet breath before speaking.

  “Well… I’ve been studying magic with Master Seralya for some time now, and Nanami often comes along during my lessons. But… I can’t help feeling she’d like to learn for real too. So… I was wondering if you would allow it. For Nanami to study magic alongside me, under Master Seralya.”

  Liora blinked, clearly surprised by the request.

  “Nanami… learning magic? Is that truly possible?”

  “Absolutely, Lady Liora,” Sora replied with a small, confident smile.

  “For months now, I’ve been teaching her mana meditation. She can already manifest her own mana orb with no trouble. She really is talented, I assure you.”

  Nanami listened to the exchange in silence, hands clasped together, expression hopeful.

  She didn’t dare interrupt but her eyes sparkled with excitement.

  Liora shifted her gaze toward her daughter, then back to Sora.

  “That’s… incredible. I had no idea she had progressed so far.”

  She paused, thoughtful, then added with a warm smile:

  “If it’s truly what she wants, and if Master Seralya will supervise her, then I have no objection. I trust both of you to be responsible.”

  “Really, Mom?!” Nanami burst out, unable to hold back.

  “Really,” Liora confirmed with a soft laugh.

  Sora bowed his head slightly, relieved and grateful.

  “Thank you, Lady Liora. Truly.”

  “There’s no need to thank me, Sora,” she replied gently. “Just take care of each other, alright?”

  Nanami, no longer able to contain her excitement, began bouncing on her toes, laughing as she hugged her mother and then Sora, too.

  “I did it! I’m going to be Master Seralya’s apprentice too!”

  Sora laughed at her enthusiasm, feeling it warm his chest.

  They continued walking beneath the starlit sky, the last faint echoes of the festival fading behind them. When they reached Sora’s home, they said their goodbyes with a smile.

  It was a perfect end to a day that unknowingly marked a new beginning for them both.

  Days passed, and magic lessons were no longer a matter of just one student and a teacher… but two.

  Seralya watched with calm interest as the dynamic between Sora and Nanami adjusted naturally.

  He advanced quickly through new branches of elemental magic, while Nanami progressed with a determination that made her shine in her own way.

  Her effort was evident: though still a step behind Sora, she was clearly focused eager to catch up.

  The riverside clearing had become their usual place of study. Afternoons passed between laughter, spells, and the sound of water flowing over stones. Seralya, though she tried to keep her usual composure, couldn’t help but smile every time she saw them working in harmony.

  Since the festival, Sora hadn’t seen that strange warning in his Soul Panel again, nor had he experienced the dizziness or sudden warmth. So, he decided not to mention it to his teacher. If it didn’t happen again, perhaps it was nothing.

  Even so, sometimes, amid the silence his mind wandered back to that flashing red triangle beside his mana bar.

  When the day’s practice ended, they walked back to the village together.

  By nightfall, Liora would come to fetch Nanami, and the goodbyes had become a comforting part of the routine: a smile, a promise to return the next day.

  Afterward, Sora often had some time to himself always retreating to his room.

  Winter in Glacien was approaching.

  Snow hadn’t begun to fall yet, but the air had already turned sharp, their breaths visible each time they exhaled. Only a few days remained until his birthday… and Nanami’s.

  Sora sat at his desk, staring at the small drawer where he kept his secret. Inside lay the fruits of months of hard work: several wide notebooks made from paper he had perfected himself, and a simple wooden case decorated with carved flowers.

  He gently traced the edge of the case with his fingertips. Inside it was the most special gift he had made yet: colored pencils.

  The process had been exhausting. Obtaining the right pigments, learning to compact them and shape them into slender wooden casings, it had taken weeks of trial and error.

  But with the help of Olbran’s workshop and the artisans who worked under his father, he had finally succeeded.

  He remembered Alvaron’s expression upon seeing them for the first time. His father, fascinated, was already thinking of adding them as a new product for the family workshop.

  Sora had only smiled at the thought. For him, this wasn’t just another invention… but a gift made from the heart.

  Because he knew how much Nanami loved to draw—and this time, he wanted to give her something that truly reflected what she meant to him.

  A gift worthy of her.

  Finally, the 20th of Selrien arrived.

  Their birthday, the date that had long become a tradition for the Eryndel and Edevane families to celebrate together.

  After lunch, Nanami arrived accompanied by her parents.

  The house was filled with laughter and sweet aromas; Tsukari and Liora were chatting animatedly while Alvaron handled the drinks. Just like the year before, there were warm, overlapping congratulations: Nanami’s family hugged Sora affectionately, and Sora’s parents congratulated Nanami with the same fondness.

  Soon enough, the two of them found themselves standing face to face in the living room.

  Nanami was looking at him with a playful expression, her hands hidden behind her back, trying to hold back a smile. Sora did the same.

  “Well,” she said, raising an eyebrow, “looks like someone got ahead this time.”

  Sora grinned from ear to ear, pulling out a pair of objects wrapped in his own tracing paper, tied with a delicate pink cord. One was rectangular and thick; the other, smaller and longer.

  “Happy birthday, Nanami!” he said enthusiastically. “I prepared something special for you this year.”

  Nanami let out a nervous laugh, then replied by taking out her own gift from behind her back.

  “And I’ve got something for you. Happy birthday, Sora! And thanks for not forgetting the present this time!”

  They both laughed, remembering the awkward gift-less birthday of the previous year. Without another word, they sat down in front of each other on the floor, each with their present resting on their lap.

  “You first,” Nanami said, pointing at him.

  Sora nodded and carefully unwrapped the parcel. Inside was a small linen pouch… and inside it, a handcrafted leather case, embroidered with depictions of the White Crest Tree and the little white birds that had accompanied them that first time beneath its flowers.

  Sora held it in his hands, mesmerized. The leather was soft yet sturdy, and every stitch was done with care.

  “It’s… beautiful,” he murmured, truly smiling.

  Nanami quickly spoke, slightly flustered:

  “Every time I go into your room I see your things scattered all over the desk… quills, charcoal, pencils... I thought you could use something to keep them in.”

  Sora looked at her with heartfelt tenderness, closing the case and holding it with both hands.

  “I love it, Nanami. I really do. It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

  She lowered her gaze, cheeks flushed, hiding a shy smile.

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  A warm silence lingered between them, full of contained smiles.

  Then Sora cleared his throat softly and said:

  “Well, it’s your turn now. Open yours.”

  Nanami nodded, intrigued, as her fingers began to undo the cord tying the packages.

  She carefully unwrapped the first one.

  Inside, she found a large notebook, firm covers and thick pages, perfectly bound. She ran her fingers over the sheets, amazed by the smooth texture of the paper.

  Then she reached for the second package and opened it with curiosity.

  Inside was a finely crafted wooden case.

  When she lifted the lid, her eyes lit up.

  Dozens of colored pencils rested inside, neatly arranged, each one a different shade: vivid reds, deep blues, soft greens, bright yellows and several spares of each color so they wouldn’t run out too quickly.

  For a moment, Nanami was speechless. Her breath caught, and a huge smile bloomed across her face. Then, unable to hold back, she threw herself into Sora’s arms, hugging him tightly.

  “Sora… this is incredible!”

  He smiled, a little embarrassed by how emotional her reaction was.

  “I know how much you love drawing,” he said softly, “and I also know you always wanted to be able to color them too. So… I worked hard to invent these pencils for you.”

  Nanami hugged him even tighter, laughing with tears shimmering in her eyes.

  “Thank you, Sora! Really… thank you!”

  From the other side of the room, Tsukari watched the scene with a smile she could barely contain. She squirmed with tenderness, just like every time she saw those two share moments like this.

  “They’re just too adorable…” she murmured between laughs.

  When Nanami finally calmed down, Sora took the case and, with a mix of pride and excitement, began to explain how it worked.

  “Look, as you can see, the pencils don’t have a point yet. But sharpening them is easy if you use this tool,” he said, showing her a small metal object with a blade inside.

  Nanami watched closely while he continued:

  “You just insert the pencil here, turn it a little, and the wood shaves away until the tip appears. If it breaks, you just do the same again. But try not to sharpen too often, or it’ll wear down faster.”

  “I understand,” she replied, nodding with a focused smile.

  Sora offered her one of the pencils, and she took it carefully, like holding something fragile. She leaned over the notebook and, with slow strokes, drew a small flower. Then she picked up a different color, a soft pink and colored it in with the same gentleness as her breathing.

  “I love it,” she said without lifting her eyes from the page. “I really love it, Sora. Thank you.”

  Sora watched her, a serene smile on his face and his eyes full of pride.

  The hearth fire crackled softly, filling the room with a warm glow. Outside, the first snowflakes of the Glacien winter began to fall.

  It was such a simple scene… and yet, perfect.

  The kind of memory they would both carry with them forever, without even realizing it.

  The rest of the day passed in laughter, games, and the simple joy of a shared celebration.

  The families of Sora and Nanami spent the afternoon with sweets, music, and warm stories. The house was filled with that gentle glow that only happens when the people who truly care for each other are gathered.

  When night finally fell over Rulid, the noise slowly faded.

  Nanami and her parents said their goodbyes with tired smiles, and after helping his mother tidy up, Sora went up to his room.

  He flopped onto his bed, staring at the ceiling as the quiet of the house wrapped around him.

  He could still see it clearly in his mind: Nanami’s face lighting up when she opened her gift. That radiant, genuine smile that had stayed with him all day.

  It was worth it, he thought. All the effort… every step of trial and error. Just to see her smile like that.

  A warm feeling filled his chest. For the first time in a long while, he sensed that everything around him was in balance.

  With that thought, his eyes closed, and sleep claimed him slowly.

  Thus ended another day in the life of Sora Eryndel.

  A simple day, yet full.

  One of those that, without knowing it, will stay carved into memory forever.