Xervia observed the forest, though nothing appeared out of the ordinary to him. The looked like a living cathedral, quiet and mysterious, blanketed in mist that turned the world soft and dreamlike in the morning hours. As they began walking and moved into the forest proper, their footsteps were muffled by layers of fallen leaves and moss, and the air carried the rich scent of decomposition and new growth.
They walked in companionable silence for a while, with Xervia carefully mimicking his brother's pace and following his trail by stepping on the spots he stepped on. He was doing it unknowingly even. Though his mind and thoughts were unsettled, he found himself accustomed to the walk, with little to no tiredness in his small legs, even though his mind still reeled from the impossibility of his situation.
After some time, they had come across several mushrooms, Xervia relying heavily on his memory to see him through to pick the right ones. Though he felt a sense of security around his brother, he was still fearful of the possibility of getting caught by Rannick as being an imposter.
As they searched through a mossy patch where pale mushrooms grew, Xervia turned and saw his brother suddenly go still. Rannick's head lifted, nostrils flaring as he tested the air. Without warning, he tossed the basket aside and took a stance that was both defensive and ready for attack, both arms rising as they began to glow with a faint and ghostly, blue-white light.
A moment later, the luminescence rippled around Rannick's body, almost too faint to be seen by the visible eyes. The air shimmered faintly like heat waves rising from summer pavement, and when his hands moved striking out, the movements carried weight and power that defied his physical size or even normal logic. It was like something from a martial arts movie or novels.
Xervia wasn't only surprised at the suddenness of it all, as only after witnessing it did a part of his memory holding information about what he was looking at open up to him. It wasn't just martial arts he was witnessing, this was the work of a kind of energy in this world known as mana… there really was magic in this world.
He watched with wide eyes at what he was experiencing. There were no special effects, no grand explosions or dramatic light shows, just controlled, subtle pulses of energy that bent the air itself, that made the leaves on nearby trees rustle without wind. It wasn't just the force of Rannick's empty strikes, but also the mana flowing through him.
The demonstration lasted only moments, but it changed everything. When Rannick lowered his arms, the glow fading until it was barely visible, he looked at Xervia with a mixture of pride and concern.
"That was a razorwolf," he said quietly, though Jonathan saw no sign of any creature. "Young one I guess, probably just curious. They usually don't come this close to the village, but..." He shrugged. "Times are changing."
Jonathan felt a new feeling welling up inside him, awe, curiosity, and a flicker of fear that was both thrilling and terrifying. This world was different, that much was certain now. It was also more dangerous than anything he'd ever imagined, and he was just a child in it, vulnerable and untrained… regardless, he was also alive in a way he'd never been before, even if just a bit.
After that they round up their time in the forest and returned home.
…
A few days later, Rannick packed his things and set off to serve in the army. Their father didn't even see him off, just mumbled from his corner of the house, half-drunk and uncaring, wrapped in a blanket that smelled of stale sweat and a musk of dirt. Xervia stood quietly at the doorway, watching as Rannick tightened the straps on a travel pack that looked far too small for everything he was leaving behind… not that there was anything though. A worn sword hung from his waist, its leather scabbard scarred from use.
Rannick turned his focus to Xervia, patting his head briefly. "They called for me," he said, his voice steady but tinged with concern, perhaps for his brother, or maybe himself.
"The frontlines are thinning out. The monsters are moving again, pushing closer to the settled lands. They need everyone who can use mana, even if we're not properly trained. Luckily I'm to be drafted, and the pay is also decent, so I'll be sending back some money." He said before moving close as though to speak to Xervia's hearing alone. "Make sure to use the money well."
As for Xervia, the word that stood out the most from all he just heard, was the word monsters. The word should have felt ridiculous, like something from a fictional story or a fantasy novel, but it was simply another fact of existence here.
"I'll send letters when I can," Rannick added, placing a hand on Xervia's head.
"Hey, be strong. Watch yourself and don't let the old man break you, ok?" His eyes flicked toward the corner where their father sat, and something hard passed over his features. "You're better than this place, Xervia. Better than what we came from. Don't forget that."
Jonathan wanted to say something, to ask what kind of monsters they were fighting, to beg him to stay and teach him about mana and magic and survival, but all that came out was a quiet nod, it was illogical to ask after all, and he knew that.
With all that, it didn't take long again before Rannick was gone, walking down the dirt path that led away from the village, his figure growing smaller until the morning mist swallowed him whole.
Later that day, Jonathan sat by the door long after the sun had set, listening to the sounds of the village settling into evening routine.
The old world he knew was now little more than a whisper in his mind, growing fainter with each passing hour. He could choose to reveal in the past, but his current situation didn't seem to even let him. There was a lot to be done.