A week had passed since Elina began teaching Julius. Each day, she tested his existing abilities, guiding him carefully to uncover the full extent of his skill before advancing further.
During the second lesson, she instructed him to practice earth magic. "Julius," she said, pointing to an open patch of courtyard, "raise a wall. Make it tall, make it solid—but precise."
Julius nodded earnestly, sweat beading on his brow as he focused. His tiny hands moved under her direction, mana flowing smoothly. In moments, a solid wall, four feet tall and a foot thick, rose from the earth. His chest swelled with pride.
Elina observed, tilting her head. "Very good—but can you create smaller spikes around it? Make them even, like a fence."
With a playful grin, Julius extended his control, forming jagged stones that lined the courtyard like a miniature barricade. He laughed at the sight, but never let his attention slip from her watchful gaze.
Next, she turned him to wind magic. "Sweep the leaves from the yard. Stack the firewood neatly, and—try moving yourself with the air currents. Feel the flow, control it."
Julius's movements became a dance. He summoned gentle gusts that swept leaves into neat piles and lifted the firewood with precise control. Then, carefully, he wrapped a small swirl of wind around his body, propelling himself a few steps forward. He giggled as leaves spun chaotically, his joy mingling with concentration. Elina's eyes glimmered with approval. "Focus on the balance, Julius. Don't let the wind scatter you too far." He adjusted mid-air, landing lightly, perfectly in control.
———
By the third lesson, she had him focus on healing. "Julius, see that dog? Its paw is hurt. Heal it—but gently. Feel the injury, direct the mana where it is needed."
He knelt beside the limping stray, hands glowing softly as he followed her precise instructions. The dog wagged its tail, bouncing with renewed vigor, and Julius clapped in delight. "Good," Elina said, her voice warm. "Now, guide a breeze to play with it. Watch how the energy moves around the living thing."
Julius summoned a playful gust, making the dog chase leaves, leaping joyfully. He laughed, eyes sparkling, but kept his focus, obeying her careful guidance.
Then she asked him to use healing magic in tandem in the garden. "Take that withered flower, Julius. Nurture it. Pay attention to the center, the petals. Don't rush."
Mana flowed under his will, and the flower slowly unfurled, petals shimmering in sunlight. Elina walked beside him, giving gentle corrections: "Slightly more pressure at the stem… yes, perfect. Now let the petals open fully, slowly."
Encouraged, Julius extended his magic, coaxing every plant in the courtyard into bloom. Flowers swayed, colors shifting under his control. He giggled at the beauty of it, yet never strayed from her watchful guidance.
Nicholas, standing silently at the edge of the yard, folded his arms and watched both teacher and student. The sunlight glinted off the water spheres Julius formed at her direction, the earthy aroma of soil and fresh blooms blending in the warm afternoon air. Birds and leaves danced around the boy's magic, filling the courtyard with life.
Even at five years old, Julius was astonishing. But Nicholas felt a quiet worry beneath his awe—he saw the strain and focus in his son's small frame, and knew the path to greatness would demand patience and careful guidance.
Elina, for her part, recorded every detail in her mind. She noted his precision, his intuitive understanding of each element, and the joy he found in learning. "Excellent, Julius," she said after the final exercise. "You are learning quickly—but remember, control is everything. Strength without discipline is dangerous. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Teacher!" Julius replied, eyes glowing with determination. "I will listen, I will learn, I will become stronger!"
And in that courtyard, where magic, guidance, and childhood wonder intertwined, the boy, his teacher, and his parents glimpsed the extraordinary path that lay ahead—a path where dreams, discipline, and discovery would shape him into something truly remarkable.
———
That evening, the courtyard glowed with the fading light of dusk. The last golden rays stretched across the grass. Julius trotted up to his father, clutching a crumpled piece of parchment covered in uneven, enthusiastic handwriting. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes shining with excitement.
"Father!" he called, nearly bouncing in place. "I made a timetable!"
Nicholas looked down, curious. "A timetable?"
"Yes!" Julius nodded vigorously, holding the paper out like a precious treasure. "Teacher Elina will teach me magic on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. You'll train me with the sword on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. And every evening, I'll study mathematics, science, history, geography, and language. On Sundays…" He puffed out his chest proudly, "I'll study even more!"
Nicholas took the parchment, his gaze sweeping over the messy letters and uneven lines. A faint smile tugged at his lips. "You've thought this through carefully. That is good. Discipline will take you far, Julius."
But then his tone softened, becoming serious yet tender. "Julius… I know how determined you are to do your best. But if you only follow this schedule, you'll miss something just as important—your childhood. You never go outside to play with other children your age."
Julius blinked, caught off guard. He had never thought about that before. Since the day he was born, his world had been the house, the courtyard, and the study. Outside was something distant, almost foreign.
"Hmmm…" He tilted his head, puzzled, his small hands curling into fists at his sides. "Playing? And… I have to go outside and make friends?"
Nicholas crouched down, bringing his eyes level with his son. His voice was calm but resolute, carrying the weight of experience. "Yes, Julius. Playing, laughing, and being with other children is just as important as training. Strength and knowledge matter, but so do friendships, joy, and experiences. They help you grow in ways that no magic or study can teach."
The boy furrowed his brow, deep in thought. "But… I like learning and practicing magic. I'm having fun doing that."
Nicholas reached out, ruffling Julius's hair gently, tousling his curls with care. "I know you do, son. And I don't want you to stop. But life is bigger than lessons and practice alone. One day, you'll understand why friends, play, and even small adventures are part of becoming truly strong."
Julius's small face softened, his eyes reflecting the golden light of the setting sun. "I… think I understand, Father. I'll try to… play too."
Nicholas smiled warmly, brushing the corner of Julius's cheek with a gentle hand. "Good. Balance is key, Julius. Power without joy is like a sword without a hand to wield it. Rest well tonight. A new day awaits, and with it… new lessons, new laughter, and new possibilities."
The boy yawned, his tiny shoulders sagging from exhaustion and the weight of his ambitious schedule. "Okay, Father… I'll rest," he murmured, voice soft, finally letting himself relax.
Nicholas stood, watching his son trot off toward the house. He could see the determination still lingering in Julius's posture, the spark of a child who wished to conquer both knowledge and life itself. Yet he also saw a boy beginning to understand that strength was not just power—it was balance, joy, and wisdom combined.
The courtyard fell silent under the last rays of the sun, as if honoring the boy who was learning not just to grow powerful, but to grow wisely. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying the faint scent of earth and flowers, while a few birds settled in the branches, settling for the night.
Inside, the warm glow of the hearth awaited Julius, and with it, dreams that stretched beyond the walls of the house—a child's imagination now learning to dance alongside discipline, under the watchful eyes of those who loved him most.
———
The first light of dawn stretched its golden fingers across the hills, bathing the village of Ralia in a gentle glow. Birds trilled from the treetops, and a soft breeze carried the scent of dew-laden grass and distant bakeries. For the first time in his five-year life, Julius was stepping beyond the familiar walls of his home—the courtyard that had been the center of his small world.
He placed each tiny boot carefully on the gravel road, feeling the stones crunch underfoot. His heart fluttered with a mix of excitement and nervousness, and a shiver of anticipation ran down his spine.
As he walked, the village began to stir. A baker carried a basket brimming with warm bread, the aroma drifting lazily through the morning air. Sparks flew from the blacksmith's hammer, ringing sharply against the forge.
A bullock cart creaked along the gravel road, laden with sacks of grain and fresh produce, the oxen plodding steadily as the driver hummed a cheerful tune. Nearby, tradesmen set up their stalls—one arranging jars of honey that glistened in the sunlight, another laying out bundles of herbs and dried flowers that perfumed the air. Farmers ambled past, carrying pails of fresh milk, balancing them carefully to avoid spilling a single drop. The soft lowing of the cows and the clatter of hooves blended with the clamor of the waking village, creating a symphony of rural life that enveloped Julius completely.
"Good morning!" Julius called brightly, waving his small hand with infectious enthusiasm.
"Good morning, little one!" came cheerful replies from several villagers.
Julius's lips curved into a wide smile. He had never spoken to so many people outside his family. Their warm greetings made his chest swell with a new sense of wonder and belonging.
One kindly woman bent slightly, resting her hands on her knees. "And what is your name, little one?" she asked gently.
"My name is Julius!" he replied proudly, his voice ringing with youthful energy.
"And your father?" another villager asked, curiosity lighting her eyes.
"My father's name is Nicholas," Julius answered without hesitation.
At the mention of the name, the villagers' expressions shifted. A mixture of respect, awe, and cautious admiration passed across their faces. Nicholas had settled in Ralia only a few years ago, a swordsman of unmatched skill, whose origins were whispered about in hushed tones are still unknown. He had defended the village from dangerous magical beasts and earned the trust of its people—and now his son walked among them, carrying the quiet weight of that reputation.
"Ah… so you are his son," murmured an elder, smiling warmly. "A fine child, I can see it already."
Julius's small chest puffed out slightly at the acknowledgment. He didn't fully understand why the villagers treated his father's name with such reverence, but it made him feel… important. With renewed energy, he continued down the road, greeting each passerby with a cheerful, "Good morning!" and receiving nods, smiles, and kind words in return.
For the first time, Julius truly felt the vastness of the world—and for the first time, he understood that there were people and places beyond the walls of his home.
A few steps later, he arrived at an open field where children ran freely, their laughter ringing like bells across the morning air. Julius's eyes scanned eagerly, searching for someone his own size.
He spotted two little girls nearby, about his height, playing with joyful abandon.
"Hello!" he called out, waving excitedly. "Can I play with you!?"
The cheerful girl's eyes lit up, and she grinned. "Yes! Come play with us! What's your name?"
"I'm Julius. And you?" he asked politely, bowing his head slightly in a small gesture of courtesy.
"I'm Rika," the first girl replied, clapping her hands together. "And this is my friend, Alice."
Alice, the shy one, peeked out from behind Rika. "Hi… nice to meet you, Julius," she said softly.
"Nice to meet you both," Julius answered warmly, a bright smile spreading across his face. "What are you playing?"
"We're playing tag!" Rika said, her eyes sparkling. "It's simple. One of us is 'it,' and we try to touch someone else. When you're touched, you become 'it' instead." She tapped Alice lightly on the shoulder to demonstrate.
"Oh! That looks fun! Can I try too?" Julius asked eagerly, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
"Of course!" Rika said, her grin widening. "We'll go slow at first, so you can learn. Ready?"
"Ready!" Julius shouted, his voice full of joy, and with that, the three children bolted across the field. Laughter rang out, mingling with the morning songs of birds and the rustle of grass under their feet. For the first time, Julius felt the freedom of the world beyond his home—and he knew, deep in his heart, that this was only the beginning of many adventures to come.
———
But their fun was soon interrupted. A group of older children appeared at the edge of the field, their cocky grins and confident strides marking them as trouble. Taller and more imposing—around eight years old—they looked ready to claim the space as their own.
"Hey! What are you three doing here?" one demanded, his voice sharp. "This place is ours. You're not allowed to play here. Go somewhere else!"
Rika stepped forward bravely, her tiny chest puffed out. "But we were playing here first!"
The older boy's glare silenced her instantly. "I said, move! Or else."
Rika faltered, her courage wavering. "O-okay…" Alice pressed herself against Julius, peeking nervously from behind him.
Julius straightened his small back, determination sparking in his eyes. "We were playing in this field first," he said firmly. "This field is for everyone! You can't just chase us away!"
The leader's grin twisted into a sneer. "I said this place belongs to us. Move, or else."
Julius lifted his chin, his voice steady and unwavering. "What if I refuse?"
"You… you can't! You're just a little kid!" the older boy spat, stepping closer, trying to intimidate him.
Julius's gaze didn't waver. "Even if I'm small, this field is for everyone—not just you. You can't scare us away."
Rika felt a surge of courage at his words. "He's right… this field is ours too!" Alice nodded, clutching Julius's sleeve, her wide eyes reflecting trust.
Anger flashed across the older children's faces. One lunged forward, aiming a light but menacing slap at Julius's head, trying to assert dominance.
Julius's instincts kicked in immediately. Years of sword training since he was three had honed his reflexes. With a swift sidestep, he dodged effortlessly, his small frame a blur of motion.
Before the older children could recover, Julius raised his tiny hands. Mana swirled at his fingertips, coalescing into several small spheres of water. With a sharp thrust, he sent them flying.
SPLASH!
The spheres burst against the older kids, drenching them completely. Water ran down their clothes and hair, and their triumphant expressions froze in shock and humiliation.
Sputtering, shouting, and shivering, the older children turned and ran, fleeing across the field in utter defeat.
Rika's jaw dropped, and Alice's eyes widened in awe. "You… you did that?" Rika breathed, her admiration evident.
"You're amazing…" Alice whispered, her fear replaced by trust and wonder.
Julius's grin was sheepish, yet proud. "I… just wanted to keep you safe," he said quietly.
Rika's face lit up with joy. "You're our hero!"
Alice nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah… you saved us!"
Julius felt a warmth swell in his chest—a pride deeper than his height could ever measure. For the first time, he realized that his powers could protect others. In that moment, he felt taller—not just in stature, but in courage and heart.
The three children laughed together once more, their bond strengthened by trust and bravery. Julius had made his first friends, and in doing so, had shown them—and himself—the hero he could become.