The gate's mana tasted different today.
Astraea stood in line for the CYAP field trip to Gate Alpha-7's observation platform, the third such trip this month. To the other children, it was an exciting outing to see "where magic comes from!" To Astraea, it was breakfast.
"Stay with your buddy!" Teacher Milly chirped, handing out neon vests. "Leo and Astraea, you're together! Hold hands!"
Leo took her hand, his grip slightly damp with excitement. "My mom says if I concentrate really hard, I might be able to make my whole hand glow someday."
"That would be significant progress," Astraea said, meaning it.
The observation platform was a reinforced concrete structure two hundred meters from Gate Alpha-7—a shimmering tear in reality that hovered above the old quarry. To human eyes, it was a beautiful, dangerous mystery. To Astraea's dragon sight, it was a dripping faucet in a desert.
The children oohed and aahed as mana fluctuations made the air shimmer. Chloe gasped when a particularly strong surge made all their hair stand on end.
"Look at the colors!" Sam whispered, his thermal senses probably going wild.
Astraea looked, but not at the surface effects. She looked at the mana streams themselves—the rivulets of cosmic energy leaking into a world that had forgotten how to drink. And she began to snack.
Not obviously. Not in a way anyone would notice. She simply… breathed differently.
While the other children inhaled normally, Astraea tuned her respiration to match the gate's frequency. With each breath, she captured wisps of mana that would otherwise dissipate into the atmosphere. She directed them not to her core—that would be too detectable—but to her developing wing buds, where the energy could be immediately used for growth.
It was stealing, in a way. Taking mana meant for this fledgling civilization. But it was also reclamation. This mana belonged to her world too, once. Before the famine. Before the silence.
And she was so hungry.
"Does anyone feel… energized?" Mia asked, her water orbs sparkling more brightly than usual.
"It's the gate's friendly energy!" Milly explained. "It's saying hello to our inner glows!"
It's leaking, Astraea thought, absorbing another careful breath. And I'm catching the drops before they hit the ground.
She'd gotten better at this over the weeks. The first time, she'd taken too much too fast, and Leo had commented that her sparkles looked "extra sparkly." Now she regulated her intake like a sommelier sipping fine wine—just enough to nourish, not enough to notice.
The growth was accelerating. The wing buds itched fiercely today, a productive, building itch. She could feel the first hints of structure within them—the delicate architecture of flight being woven from mana and memory.
"Alright, Light-Bearers!" Milly called. "Time for our Gate Greeting exercise! Everyone focus on sending a little friendly light toward the gate! Let it know we come in peace!"
The children concentrated. Flickers of colored light—green, rose, blue, orange—danced toward the gate. Most dissipated before getting halfway. A few reached the shimmering boundary and vanished.
Astraea sent three silver sparkles. But unlike the others, hers didn't dissipate. They reached the gate's boundary… and paused. Hovered. For three full seconds, they held position at the exact frequency of the gate's mana stream, drinking deeply, before winking out.
No one noticed. Except maybe the gate itself, which pulsed slightly brighter for a moment.
"Wow, Astraea!" Milly exclaimed. "Your sparkles went the farthest! You must have a special connection!"
"Just lucky," Astraea murmured, feeling the extra mana settling into her wing buds like warm syrup.
On the bus back, sitting beside Leo, Astraea felt the effects of her snack. The wing buds weren't just developing—they were singing. A faint, harmonic hum that only she could hear, the song of wings remembering they were meant for sky.
"You're quiet," Leo said.
"Thinking," Astraea replied.
"About the gate?"
"About… growth." She looked out the window at the passing city. "How some things take a very long time to start, but once they do…"
She trailed off, but Leo nodded as if he understood. "Like my grandma's garden. Nothing happens for ages, then boom—everything's growing at once."
"Exactly like that," Astraea said.
[System notification!]
[Quest updated: 'The long wait - Commence thawing']
[Progress: 0.33/0.5 cm height increase achieved!]
[Additional objective: Visit Gate Alpha-7 three more times for 'inspiration!']
[Note: Gates are friends who help us grow!]
Astraea almost laughed. The System thought she needed "inspiration." What she needed was calories. Cosmic calories.
That night, as she measured herself against the wall, she felt the changes more profoundly than ever. Not just the height. Not just the wing buds. But a shift in her very relationship with this world.
She was no longer just hiding. She was foraging. Hunting in plain sight. Taking what she needed from under the noses of those who didn't know what they had.
She touched her back through her pajamas. The wing buds were definitely larger now. Not visible, but tangible. Two small, firm swellings between her shoulder blades.
Soon, she'd need to adjust her glamour. Soon, she'd need to be even more careful.
But for now, she'd snack. Carefully. Discreetly. One gate visit at a time.
Tomorrow: more kindergarten, more hiding. The day after: more gate visits, more snacking. The great feeding had begun, and she was learning to dine politely at the buffet of a civilization that didn't know it was hosting a dragon.