In this world, an Awakening was undoubtedly one of the greatest things that could happen to a child. But like most things, it was far from simple.
Children who underwent Awakening usually showed signs several days in advance, which allowed noble families to prepare and summon a qualified specialist. Because Magnus had shown no such signs, his family had been caught completely off guard.
Most poor families, however, did not have that luxury. They were forced to face a day when their child might be blessed, but also might die.
Yes, death.
There was always a chance that a child undergoing Awakening would not survive. The most significant factor increasing that risk was the absence of a specialist during the process, but there were other variables as well.
The most critical of them was a late Awakening.
In this world, the later a child awakened, the higher the chance they would be blessed with a rare and powerful ability. But that also meant the power they had to absorb would be far greater.
Magnus was experiencing a rare final-day Awakening, and no precautions had been taken beforehand. By any reasonable estimate, his chances of surviving the process were extremely low.
Fortunately, Magnus had trained his body as much as possible since childhood, even though his family was unaware of it.
In this world, that was actually a little-known factor that could lessen the severity of an Awakening.
Magnus himself did not know this either; for him, it was simply a habit carried over from his previous life, to always keep his physical condition in peak form.
Even so, despite possessing a well-conditioned body, the risk remained extremely high.
Their only hope was that his aunt Evelyne, one of the most talented and knowledgeable individuals in her field and a professor at the imperial capital's academy, happened to be there by sheer chance.
Over the years at the academy, sometimes beside her students, sometimes answering urgent calls in the homes of strangers. She knew the process. She knew its stages. She could distinguish between what was truly dangerous and what merely appeared frightening.
But this was Magnus.Her sister's precious young son, the bright and gentle nephew of the household.
With a single mistake, she could cost her young nephew his life, and in doing so, place herself in a situation where her sister would never speak to her again.
It took her a few minutes to admit that to herself.
"Selene," she said as she entered the room. "Lower the lamp."
Selene adjusted the lamp. Her hands trembled, but she did it.
Magnus lay on the bed. Elera was kneeling at his side, holding his hand between both of hers. She was not letting go, and it did not seem like she would.
Evelyne said nothing about it.
She placed her bag on the small table beside the bed and began taking out her tools. Methodical. Everything had its place, and everything was where it belonged. She always kept it readily available in her storage ring for emergencies.
Yet she noticed, for the first time, a slight stiffness in her fingers as she picked up a small glass vial.
A final-day Awakening.
She knew it in theory. She had taught it. She had written probability calculations on the board countless times and explained them to her students: the later it comes, the greater the power, and the greater the burden.
Now Magnus stood at the center of those calculations.
She set the vial down. Her voice remained steady. "Rina."
The little girl stood by the doorway. She had not entered, but she had not left either. Her eyes were fixed on Magnus's face, her lips pressed tightly together.
"Rina, I need you to do something for me."
Rina looked up.
"A few months ago, you awakened. Your mother used a stone that night, do you remember? Pale-colored, semi-transparent."
Rina hesitated for a moment, then understood. "The calming stone."
"Yes." Evelyne turned to her sister. "Elera. Is it still in the house?"
Elera lifted her head. The skin around her eyes was red, but she had not cried, not yet. It was as if she refused to allow herself to. "Yes. In the chest."
"Bring it."
The calming stone was carved from the root of the Silver Vine that grew in the northern forests. It was known to ease the child's nervous system during Awakening and slow the spread of power through the body.
It was not a complete solution, more of a buffer. But sometimes that difference lay very close to the line between life and death.
The stone used during Rina's Awakening was small and partially depleted. Most of its light had already faded.
Evelyne took it into her palm and examined it for a moment.
Selene's voice came quietly from beside her. "Will it be enough?"
"I don't know." It was the first time she had answered so directly. She looked at Selene. "But it's what we have."
Magnus drifted in and out of consciousness.
The darkness within him was absolute. The outside world was reduced to sound and heat. The warmth of his mother's hands. Somewhere, the sharp, breaking tone of Rina's voice. His aunt's calm, measured footsteps.
Then something began in his chest.
It was not quite pain. Something deeper, something foreign. It moved through his bones, yet also seemed to come from outside. As if his body was being pulled in two directions at once.
He tried to open his eyes.
The ceiling. A yellow light. His aunt's face, leaning over him, focused and precise.
Then darkness again.
"His pulse has increased."
Selene stood beside Evelyne, silently repeating the words in her mind as if committing them to memory.
His pulse has increased. It was information. Something could be done with information. As long as there was information, there was no place for panic.
Yet her hands gripped the edge of the chest tightly.
"What can I do?" she asked. Her voice came out steadier than expected.
Evelyne spoke without lifting her head. "For now, just stay here, Selene." This time she paused and looked at her niece. There was something in her eyes, something different from her usual cold clarity. Small, compressed, but there. "That is the most important thing you can do right now. Stay here."
Selene said nothing. She lowered her head.
Elera had not released her son's hand.
Evelyne had, several times, tried to suggest giving her space, never directly, but through implication. Each time, Elera had pulled back slightly, yet her hand remained entwined with Magnus's fingers.
Eventually, Evelyne stopped trying.
She knew her sister. This was not a battle she could win. And if she was honest, she was not sure she wanted to.
She placed the calming stone at the center of Magnus's chest. Its remaining light was faint, but at the moment of contact, it trembled, as if responding, like a pulse.
Evelyne kept her hand over the stone.
"It's working."
She let out a quiet breath.
Rina sat at the threshold, her legs drawn up, her chin resting on her knees. She had not entered the room.
She remembered her own Awakening.
The heat. The trembling. Hearing her mother's voice but being unable to respond. And somewhere in that darkness, something had held her together. She had not known what it was back then.
Now Magnus was there.
She closed her eyes. Her small hands tightened over her knees. She did not yet fully understand what it meant to be of the Light Witch class, no one had properly explained it to her, but in that moment, only one thought passed through her mind:
"Please... spare my brother's life."
What she didn't notice after saying this was that tiny white particles, nearly impossible to see, drifted toward her brother's body.
The heaviest hour of the night came just before dawn.
Magnus's breathing had grown irregular. The stone still trembled, but its light had nearly faded, barely there anymore.
For the first time, Evelyne stopped.
Just for a moment. No one noticed, perhaps except Selene.
Then she placed her hand firmly over the stone and did not remove it. She closed her eyes. It was something she had taught for years at the academy, but rarely practiced herself. This was not how power was meant to be transferred. It was dangerous. Uncontrolled.
But the stone was nearly spent, and Magnus's breathing...
'Please let it work...'
Beneath her fingers, the light flickered. Faint, but alive.
Elera did not notice. Her eyes were fixed on her son. But Selene did.
She saw the slight tremor in her aunt's hand. She did not understand everything, but she understood enough. She stepped forward and stood beside Evelyne. She did not ask. She said nothing.
She simply wiped the sweat from her younger brother's forehead with a cloth.
When morning came and sunlight poured through the window, Magnus's breathing steadied. Slowly. No longer erratic, but even.
The stone had gone completely dark. Evelyne lifted her hand. She remained still for a moment, eyes closed, then opened them slowly.
Elera watched her son's chest rise and fall. She still had not let go of his hand.
"Is it over?" Her voice was hoarse, the voice of someone who had barely slept.
Evelyne did not answer immediately.
Then, "It's over," she said.
Elera made a sound. Not a word. Just a sound. Something that had been held in for too long, finally released.
She lowered her head and pressed her son's hand to her forehead.
Evelyne turned away.
She walked to the window and looked outside. She clasped her hands together quietly, feeling the faint numbness in her fingers, the lingering effect of channeling power. It would likely remain until tomorrow.
But that did not matter.
What mattered was that Magnus would not be taken from his family.
Selene's voice came from behind her, soft. "Thank you."
Evelyne did not turn. "There's no need."
A brief silence.
"Still, thank you." Selene said.
Evelyne said nothing. But the rigidity she had carried all night seemed to leave her shoulders, if one looked closely enough.
From the doorway, Rina slipped inside. Without asking anyone, she went to Magnus and leaned against the edge of the bed. Her small arm wrapped around his neck as she hugged him.
----------------------
Magnus opened his eyes in the afternoon.
The ceiling. The yellow light, clearer this time. His mother's face. His sister's face. His aunt seated in the far corner of the room, writing something.
Rina was asleep beside him. On the other side, his mother sat on the floor, still holding his hand, her head resting against the bed in an uncomfortable position as she had drifted off. His older sister had fallen asleep on the couch.
For a while, he said nothing.
Then his voice failed on the first attempt. On the second, it came out, faint and cracked.
"Please... water..."