I woke up to the gentle warmth of the sun slipping through the wooden shutters of my room. For a moment, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, letting my thoughts wander as I often did in the mornings.
Another day… I wonder if today will be any different. No, it'll probably be the same. Reading, eating, meditating… repeating.
My small bed creaked slightly as I rolled over, stretching my arms. The house was quiet except for the faint sound of birds chirping outside and the occasional creak of wood as the walls settled. Our home was modest but comfortable, built from sturdy timber with two floors. My room was upstairs, not large, but filled with shelves and a small desk stacked with books. Books had been my world for as long as I could remember.
I pushed myself up and went straight to the desk. The book I had left open the night before sat there, waiting. Its worn leather cover smelled faintly of age and ink. I flipped it open and began reading, losing myself in its pages. It was about the history of noble houses in distant regions, though I couldn't help but feel detached from it. I didn't know why, but knowledge pulled at me like a magnet.
An hour slipped by before I realized the sun had risen higher. My stomach growled softly.
Time for breakfast. I wonder what Mother made today.
I carefully closed the book and set it aside, then padded down the wooden stairs. The air was filled with the faint aroma of baked bread and something sweet. My mother always managed to make meals comforting, even if they were simple.
At the table sat my parents. My father, Amane, with his calm but commanding presence, looked up and smiled as he noticed me. His snow-white hair, just like mine, framed his face, and his piercing red eyes seemed to glow faintly even in the morning light. Even though he wore plain clothes, there was an air about him that spoke of strength. I knew he was a swordsman—an extraordinary one. His movements were always sharp, precise, even when he did something as small as lifting a cup
My mother, Alisa, was the opposite. Gentle, graceful, with light blonde hair that shimmered faintly in the morning light. She had a warmth in her eyes that always made me feel safe. I knew she could wield light magic—something incredibly rare. Only one in a thousand could do so. That fact alone made me proud, though I never said it out loud.
"Good morning, Rio," my mother said softly, her voice like music.
"Morning," I replied, climbing into my seat.
Breakfast was simple: warm bread, eggs, and some fruit. We ate together quietly. That was how most mornings went. Sometimes I wondered about their lives.
Why don't they ever talk about what they do? Everyone else in the village knows each other's work. Farmers, hunters, blacksmiths… but my parents? No one seems to know. Even I don't.
I had asked once when I was younger, but they brushed the question aside with gentle smiles. The villagers also gave vague answers when I asked them. All I knew for certain was that they had moved here a year before I was born. My father's skills with the sword were so great that he could easily be a Viscount, yet he chose to live here quietly. My mother's rare gift with light magic made her someone extraordinary, and yet she lived humbly.
The mystery gnawed at me, but I had learned to live with it.
After finishing breakfast, I helped clear the table, then went upstairs again. My room was my world. Books lined the shelves, collected from traders and travelers. They covered history, magic, races, kingdoms—anything my young mind could consume. And when I wasn't reading, I meditated.
It had become a habit over the past year. At first, I thought it was boring. Sitting still, breathing slowly, focusing inward—it felt like a waste of time. But slowly, I realized it changed me. My concentration grew sharper, my thoughts clearer, my will stronger. Now, at seven years old, I could sit still for five hours straight without moving, completely focused.
That was how I spent most of my days. Reading. Meditating. Waiting.
But today feels different.
The thought came unbidden as I settled on the floor, legs crossed, back straight. Sunlight streamed in from the window, catching motes of dust in the air. My breaths came slow, steady.
Today, I will try magic for the first time.
The idea made my heart race. I had read countless books about magic—how it worked, how to control it, the different attributes. I knew about mana, how it flowed within the body, how visualization was the key to shaping it. Still, reading was one thing. Doing it was another.
As the hours passed, I meditated, calming my nerves, focusing my mind. By the time I opened my eyes, the sun had dipped lower, painting my room in warm light.
I stood, walked to the center of my room, and took a deep breath.
"Alright…" I whispered to myself.
I wanted to start with water magic. It felt natural—calm, flowing, adaptable. I closed my eyes again, reached inward, and searched for the faint sensation I had always felt in my chest: the warmth of mana.
Slowly, I guided it toward my hand.
Imagine water… clear, cool, flowing. Imagine it gathering, forming a ball. Large. Bigger. Big enough to hold in both hands… no, bigger still. A great ball of water.
The image grew sharper in my mind. My palm tingled. A chill spread across my fingers. My body trembled with excitement.
When I opened my eyes, my breath caught in my throat.
A massive sphere of water floated before me. Its surface shimmered, reflecting the light from the window. It wasn't small—not the size of a cup, nor a bowl. It was huge. Nearly as wide as I was tall, with a radius of what had to be eighty-six centimeters. It wobbled slightly, but held together.
I… I did it. I actually did it!
My heart pounded, my lips curling into a grin.
This is amazing! My first spell, and it's already this big… but… wait. What now? How do I cancel it?
The thought hadn't crossed my mind until then. My joy twisted into panic. The sphere hovered, heavy and unstable. If it dropped here, it would drench the entire room—or worse, damage the house.
Think, think, think! How do I… disperse it? Release it? I don't know!
Acting on instinct, I did the first thing that came to mind. I pushed the sphere upward, tossing it gently toward the ceiling.
"Go… away?" I muttered.
But instead of bursting harmlessly, the massive water ball smashed straight through the wall with a loud crash.
My eyes widened.
The sphere soared outside, breaking apart into countless droplets high above. For a moment, it seemed to hang there, then the droplets began to fall—light, shimmering rain pouring over the village.
I stood frozen, staring at the gaping hole in my wall. Then I looked down at my damp hands, water dripping from my fingers.
What… what did I just do?
The sound of footsteps thundered up the stairs. My door burst open, slamming against the wall.
"Rio!"
My parents rushed in. My father's expression was fierce, eyes scanning the room for danger. My mother's face was pale with worry, her hands glowing faintly as she prepared to cast light magic if needed.
Before I could speak, they both pulled me into their arms. My father's grip was firm, protective, while my mother's touch was trembling.
"We heard a blast," my father said sharply, his eyes darting to the broken wall. "And then… rain? Did something attack?"
I swallowed hard, unable to meet their eyes. My chest tightened. I didn't want to lie, but I didn't want to make them angry either.
Then my mother's gaze fell to my hands. Droplets clung to my skin, my shirt damp with water.
"Rio…" she whispered, realization dawning in her eyes. "Did you…?"
My throat felt dry. I hesitated.
They'll be angry. They'll scold me. I broke the wall. I caused trouble. They'll think I was reckless.
"I…" My voice cracked. "I tried magic. Water-ball magic. I… I didn't know how to stop it, and it… went outside."
I shrank back, bracing myself for the scolding. My hands clenched tightly.
But instead of anger, laughter filled the room.
I blinked up in shock as my parents pulled back slightly, their faces bright with pride.
"You… you really used magic," my father said, a rare grin spreading across his face.
"And such a large spell, on your first try," my mother added, eyes shining with tears of joy. "Oh, Rio… we're not angry. We're proud of you."
My chest loosened, relief flooding me.
"Really…?" I asked softly.
They both nodded, hugging me tighter.
That warmth… that acceptance… it made my heart feel light.
But deep inside, a voice whispered to me.
From this day on… nothing will be the same. My life is about to change.
I didn't know how. I didn't know when. But I felt it with every fiber of my being