The days after Arin's decision to begin his Talent Hunt were filled with observation, thinking, and endless possibilities. But while he thought about classmates and neighbors, one thing kept gnawing at the back of his mind—his parents.
He was only Five, but he was sharper than anyone knew. Every day, he could see how hard his parents worked, how they smiled in front of him but often sighed when they thought he wasn't looking. His father, Raghav, came home late from work with tired shoulders but always carried a cheerful grin. His mother, Mira, carefully managed every rupee, often cutting down on her own needs just so Arin would never feel lacking.
One evening, while Mira was sitting at the dining table, sorting through bills and grocery lists, Arin quietly activated Observation.
For the first time, he turned it fully on his mother.
And what he saw stunned him.
Talent Detected: Baking (Rare) - A natural sense for flavors, proportions, and textures. With practice, this person can create recipes that feel warm, comforting, and memorable. The potential lies not only in cooking for the family but also in turning baking into a craft that touches many lives.
Potential: Rare
Arin's eyes widened. His mother—a simple housewife who always told him they didn't have much—was carrying a Rare Talent all along. She didn't even know it.
So that's why she always made food taste better than anyone else's… he realized. Even the simplest dishes his mother cooked had a warmth, a flavor, that made him feel at home. But baking? She had never once tried it.
"Arin, what are you staring at?" Mira smiled, breaking his thoughts.
He hesitated, then spoke softly, "Mom… by any chance, do you know how to bake?"
Mira blinked, tilting her head. "Bake? Like cakes and bread? No, not really. I never had the chance to try. Why do you ask, sweetheart?"
Arin's small fists tightened under the table. She doesn't even realize it… she's carrying a talent that could change her life, our life, and she's never even touched it.
He thought carefully. If he simply told her she had a "talent," she'd laugh it off. Adults didn't see what he could see. He had to make her experience it herself.
"Mom," he said innocently, "can you… make bread at home? I want to try homemade bread. I heard it's healthier."
Mira chuckled. "Bread? Hmm, I've never done it before, Arin. It takes time and effort. But…" She saw his big, pleading eyes and couldn't resist. "…alright. For you, I'll try."
The next morning, Mira gathered flour, water, yeast, and sugar from the local store. She was hesitant at first, carefully following a simple recipe she found in a magazine. Arin sat nearby, watching intently, his heart racing with anticipation.
As Mira kneaded the dough, her movements seemed awkward at first. But soon, something changed. Her hands moved more smoothly, almost naturally, as if her body remembered something she had never learned. Arin could see it through Observation—the faint glow of her talent flickering, growing brighter with every motion.
Hours later, the oven released a warm, rich aroma that filled the house.
When Mira pulled out the loaf, it was golden brown, soft and perfect. She looked at it in surprise. "This… turned out better than I expected."
Arin took a bite, his eyes lighting up. It wasn't just good—it was incredible. Fluffy on the inside, with a flavor that felt like comfort itself.
"M-Mom… this is amazing!" he said honestly.
Mira laughed nervously. "Don't exaggerate, Arin. It's just bread."
But Arin shook his head. "No, Mom. It's the best bread I've ever eaten."
Deep inside, his heart swelled with both pride and relief. Her talent is real. If she keeps practicing, she could build something from this. Maybe even a bakery someday…
For now, he kept his thoughts hidden. But one thing was clear—he had found the first spark of change for his family.
That night, as Mira placed the leftover bread on the table, even Raghav was impressed. "Wow, Mira, this is better than the bakery's bread! You're full of surprises."
Mira smiled, blushing faintly, though she brushed it off as luck.
But Arin, watching quietly, knew better. It wasn't luck. It was talent.
And it was only the beginning.