- Two Years Later -
Time had become a silent yet merciless teacher for Magnus.
His twelfth birthday was not the celebration it was meant to be. There was no anticipation, nor any hope carefully hidden beneath the surface.
During this period, he had spent his days reading as much as he could and learning whatever he could about this new, unfamiliar world. At the same time, he had managed to improve his swordsmanship and had heard as much as possible about magic.
But there was a serious problem.
Magnus still had not experienced his Awakening.
By now, everyone had given up on him. Even Magnus himself had lost hope. For the time being, the theory he clung to was simple: perhaps his Awakening had never occurred because, in his original world, such a phenomenon did not exist.
He was grateful just to have been given a second chance, but of course, having a class would have been better. Especially when he looked at the wide grin on his brother's face across the table, he found himself willing to settle for even the most basic ability.
Ignoring his brother, Magnus took his seat at the table.
In this world, the age of twelve was considered a sacred turning point. It marked the transition into adolescence, the shaping of one's identity, and the final age at which an Awakening could occur.
For that reason, families with sufficient means celebrated their children's twelfth birthday. Although, among noble families, it had become increasingly common not to celebrate sons like Magnus who possessed no talent.
In fact, Magnus had heard that some nobles even went as far as disowning their talentless children.
Still, aside from his brother, he had not faced much hostility. His mother, Elera, and his sister, Selene, had never withdrawn their support. His younger sister, Rina, was one of the kindest and most gentle souls he had encountered in both of his lives.
Even his father had come to accept the situation. He could hardly be called happy about it, but he had never once tried to belittle his son.
Only Raphael was a problem.
His older brother, seventeen years old, was already the heir to the family.A fire sword wielder, second tier.
"How do you feel, little brother?" Raphael said, setting down his fork and crossing his arms. There was no genuine curiosity in his voice. There never had been. "Today was the last day, wasn't it? So now you're officially... what's the word? Ordinary?"
"Raphael." Elera's voice was sharp, but tired. The exhaustion of someone who had fought the same battle too many times.
"I'm just asking, Mother." Raphael shrugged, his eyes still fixed on Magnus. It was the gaze of someone waiting for a crack, searching for a breaking point. "What will you do as an ordinary person? Become a mason? Or apprentice under a merchant?"
Magnus said nothing.
In truth, this was the most valuable thing he had learned over the past two years. Silence. Responding to Raphael meant giving him exactly what he wanted: pain, anger, humiliation. Denying him all of it was the most effective resistance.
He picked up a piece of bread from his plate. He ate.
Raphael waited for a moment, then turned away, unable to hide his disappointment.
His father, Dormon, kept his head down, cutting his meat. His aunt Evelyne slowly swirled her wine, looking at nothing in particular. Raphael ate with a deliberate calm, savoring what he perceived as his victory.
Magnus noticed all of it. Noticing had become one of the habits he had developed over the past two years. If he would not have magic, then at least he could observe.
At that moment, he noticed Rina beside him quietly placing a piece of meat from her own plate onto his. She clearly thought Magnus would not notice, and Magnus pretended not to see it as well.
She had not even turned ten yet, and already she possessed the virtue of concealing her kindness as much as possible. Most likely, she had wanted to offer her food because of Raphael's words.
Though Magnus found the gesture sweet, he had to admit that it stung his pride. He could already see a future in which, for the rest of his life, his little sister and his family would pity him for his lack of talent.
Meanwhile, even Rina had already experienced her Awakening. A few months ago, it had occurred suddenly, and she had obtained the class of Light Witch.
It was an extraordinarily rare and special class. As far as Magnus knew, among all those currently alive, his sister was only the second person to possess it. In time, when she grew older, the Academy would likely accept her without charge.
At that moment, his thoughts drifted back earlier, to the night of Rina's Awakening.
She had cried that night. Not from happiness, but from fear. Her tiny body had trembled, her fever had risen. Elera had not slept at all. And just before dawn, Rina's eyes had filled with a strange white light, then cleared, her breathing steadied, and she had fallen asleep.
Magnus had watched it all from beside the her bed.
He had been happy for her. Truly.
And when he heard of Selene's brilliance, her achievements at the Academy, what stirred within him was not quite jealousy. It was something closer to distance. The feeling of watching from behind glass.
'I hope your future is bright, Rina' he thought as he watched his little sister quietly reach for meat from her plate.
At that moment... something stirred in his stomach.
At first, he thought it was the bread he had eaten. Then he realized it was something deeper, something stranger. It did not come from his stomach, but from somewhere further within. It felt as though it flowed between his bones, yet at the same time entered from outside.
He set down his utensils.
His hands were trembling.
'Strange.'
He tried to steady himself against the table, but his fingers would not close properly. A haze formed before his eyes, faint at first, then thickening. Raphael's voice seemed distant now, as if coming from underwater.
'I need to stand.'
He tried to rise.
The chair scraped backward. Magnus grabbed the edge of the table, but his body would not respond. His legs felt heavy. Unnaturally, disturbingly heavy.
"big brother...?" Rina's voice. Close.
Then Elera's. "Son?"
His stomach clenched again, and this time there was no warning.
Magnus doubled over as his stomach emptied. His vomit stained the floor beneath the table, but that was the last thing on his mind.
Then everything went dark. As he fell, the last thing he saw was Rina's wide, terrified eyes.
The table descended into chaos. Chairs scraped back, voices overlapped.
"Magnus!" Elera was already at her son's side, her hands on his face, her voice stripped bare with panic. "Get up, come on, open your eyes!" She turned, her voice rising and breaking at the same time. "Evelyne! What are you waiting for? Do something!"
Dormon was standing, but frozen.
Evelyne, on the other hand, had risen from her seat, yes, but she was not in a hurry.
To most who knew her, this would have been surprising. A woman who had spent years as a professor at the Academy, who had trained dozens of students, should not have appeared so calm while her nephew lay on the ground. But Evelyne's eyes were steady. Attentive, even. As though she were searching for something.
She knelt slowly beside Magnus.
"Evelyne, are you listening to me!" Elera's voice rose again.
"I am." Evelyne silenced her sister with a brief, firm touch on her arm. It was not harsh. But it was decisive. As if to say, this is not the moment for panic.
Elera fell silent. She was on the verge of tears, but she held herself.
Evelyne took Magnus's pulse. She closed her eyes and remained that way for a few seconds. Then she leaned closer, as if listening to his chest. Not like a physician, but as though she were listening for something else.
Then she straightened.
She ran her hand through Magnus's hair, almost gently. Then she took out a handkerchief and quietly wiped his mouth and chin. No haste. No unnecessary words.
"Evelyne..." Elera's voice had turned pleading. "Tell me something. What happened? Why?"
Evelyne raised her head.
There was no trace of the panic Elera was searching for in her eyes.
What was there instead was something entirely different.
"This child's Awakening is beginning," she said. Her voice was even, measured, as if delivering a diagnosis. At the very end, without even realizing it, her voice lowered slightly. "I don't know why it's so late… but it's beginning."
A deep silence fell over the table.
Raphael's fork slipped from his hand and clattered to the floor.
Evelyne did not even glance at it. She leaned down, took Magnus by the arm, and turned to Elera.
"Carry him to his bed. Now. And Selene… come with me. You'll assist me tonight."
Selene was already on her feet.
In fact, she had stood the moment Magnus collapsed, but since then she had seemed frozen in place. Her hands gripped the back of her chair so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. Her eyes had not left Magnus's face for a single moment.
'Awakening. Evelyne had said Awakening.'
Magnus lay on the ground. His face was pale. He was breathing, she could see that, but…
"Selene."
Selene lifted her head. Her eyes were wet, though she had not even realized it.
"I said come with me."