The next morning, I awoke feeling… sharper. Not in my body, but in my mind.
The air felt clearer somehow — every sound distinct, every thought crisp. I could hear the faint chirping of birds outside and the soft creak of the floorboards beneath my feet as though the world itself had been polished overnight.
"Good morning, young master Baker," Melody greeted, bowing slightly as she entered my room.
"Good morning, Melody," I replied, hopping out of bed with more energy than usual.
She tilted her head, smiling faintly. "You seem unusually cheerful today."
"I feel like my head finally decided to wake up before the rest of me," I said, grinning.
By mid-morning, Teacher Louis arrived, carrying his usual stack of books and notes.
"Good morning, Baker," he said. "Are you prepared for today's reading and arithmetic lessons?"
"Yes, Teacher," I answered, opening my lesson book. But as my eyes skimmed over the first page, I froze. The moment I read a problem or passage, the meaning settled into place instantly — no confusion, no second guessing. A fraction I'd always struggled to visualize suddenly made perfect sense. Historical events that had once blurred into a mess of names and dates now unfolded in perfect order, their causes and effects shining clear as daylight.
Teacher Louis paused, watching me closely. "You seem… faster today. Is something different?"
"I… don't know, Teacher," I said, trying to sound casual. "I just remembered it quicker this morning."
He nodded thoughtfully. "Very well, let's continue then."
As the morning passed, the pattern became undeniable. Every lesson, every story, every concept — I grasped them all as though they'd been waiting for me to understand. The pieces of knowledge fit together like an intricate puzzle, each new thought linking effortlessly to the next.
Even in the library during free time, the effect persisted. I flipped through volumes on science, history, and the arts, and comprehension came in a steady rush. What would normally take weeks to learn, I absorbed in hours. The world's logic was unfolding before me, neat and brilliant.
Then, quietly, it clicked.
So this is… Cerys' blessing.
The realization carried a soft hum through my thoughts, a subtle echo — calm, certain, alive. My mind felt like freshly turned soil beneath sunlight, ready to nurture whatever seeds of knowledge I planted. Tripled learning speed… it was subtle, yet powerful beyond measure.
By the time dinner arrived, I had absorbed more than I would have in an entire week. Melody noticed my unusually precise answers to her casual questions about the day's lessons, and even Mother — Ventis — smiled knowingly.
"Baker, it seems you've learned much today," she said.
"Yes, Mother," I replied, keeping my tone polite, though inside I was thrilled. Patience, I reminded myself. Everything else is still sealed. This… is just the beginning.
That night, lying beneath the quiet dark, I recalled Vespa's words:
Your abilities are still sealed… your growth begins with knowledge.
I smiled to myself, the thought both grounding and exhilarating.
Then I will grow, step by step — faster than anyone expects, until the seal breaks and my true path begins.
With that promise lingering in my mind, I drifted into sleep — my thoughts alight with new understanding, and the soft, guiding whisper of the Goddess of Skills watching over me.
I awoke before the sun.
The air was cool and still, the world outside my window painted in shades of deep gray. No birds yet, no morning chatter — just the quiet hum of my thoughts, already awake before me. My body felt light, alert, eager. I couldn't go back to sleep, not with my mind still buzzing from yesterday's discoveries.
Slipping out of bed, I dressed quietly, careful not to wake Melody or Mother. The manor's halls were silent, the kind of silence that made every step sound too loud. I crept down the corridor, heart pounding with a strange excitement, until I reached the family library.
The old doors gave a faint sigh as I pushed them open. The scent of aged parchment and polished wood drifted out to greet me — familiar, comforting. In the dim light, the shelves stretched high above, filled with books that had always seemed too advanced, too sacred for me to touch without permission.
Not today.
I lit a small lamp and settled at one of the tables, drawing the nearest tome toward me.
"On the Principles of Mana Flow and Soul Resonance."
The first few pages were dense with terms and diagrams, but as my eyes moved across the words, they unfolded effortlessly in my mind. Mana — the energy of life, spirit, and will. Every living being held a fragment of it, invisible and formless until shaped by understanding.
My pulse quickened. So this was the foundation of magic.
Book after book followed — crafting, enchanting, the theory of skill resonance. Each one built on the last, and though they were written for scholars far older than me, their meanings arranged themselves in perfect order as I read.
In one volume, "The Ceremony of Awakening", I found a chapter that drew me in completely.
> At thirteen years of age, a youth may undergo the Rite of Awakening, wherein their soul harmonizes with divine essence to reveal a personal skill. The ceremony must be conducted in a consecrated church under the presence of the gods. Those of strong will or divine favor may awaken unique blessings or hidden abilities beyond ordinary measure.
I sat back, staring at the words, my mind spinning.
Thirteen years old. That was when most people took their first step toward power — their first glimpse of destiny.
But I was already learning, already changing. If I could prepare myself before then — study, train, understand the world — what would my awakening become?
I felt a quiet thrill run through me. The knowledge from the books seemed to hum inside my chest, as if resonating with something unseen.
This is what Cerys meant, I realized. Growth through knowledge.
The eastern horizon began to lighten, pale gold seeping into the darkness. I closed the book gently and rose, placing it back on the shelf.
"Not yet," I whispered to myself. "But soon."
As the first rays of sunlight touched the windows, I slipped back to my room unseen. The day hadn't even begun, and already I felt one step closer to the power waiting within me — and to the destiny Vespa had promised.