David made his way through the undergrowth. His sudden encounter with Darryl had left him rattled. He exhaled sharply, his breath forming small puffs in the crisp air.
The village stirred behind him, its sounds a dull murmur at the edges of his perception. It all felt so distant now.
He crouched near the clearing he frequented for so long now. His arms were already burning with anticipation.
Nothing to clear your mind like some pain.
He launched himself upward toward the sturdy branch above.
His fingers curled around the rough bark, calloused and steady. With practiced ease, he pulled himself up, his chin clearing the branch in a smooth motion before lowering again.
Up. Down. Up. Down.
The effort was mechanical. His muscles hurt, fighting against the mana that stirred in them, but they obeyed.
The muscle-ups used to be an achievement. Now they were weaved in between pullups as part of training.
His body moved like a machine, slowly approaching its limits, but his mind refused to settle. His thoughts churned, restless and sharp-edged.
No matter how much he trained, how much he focused on dull strain in his core, his thoughts always circled back to the same thing.
His bloody hands. The golden thread. The shimmering energy. The way the world itself had changed.
He could see it even now. The faint glow of something pulsing beneath the ground, trailing up the trees, forming thin, barely visible veins in the bark.
Even his arms were covered in it.
It wasn’t a light, not exactly, as it didn’t shine on the surroundings. It simply existed, as if layered onto the world.
He dropped from the branch, his feet landing softly on the damp earth. He closed his eyes, focused, and opened them again.
The world still shimmered. Mana… it was something he could now see.
A rustle in the undergrowth caught his attention. He turned his head, eyes narrowing.
A two-tailed fox? David startled. It was hidden behind the foliage, but its presence was outlined in faint flickers of energy.
He looked around warily, searching for the faintest trace of fog or mist.
He raised his hands and slowly backed away.
I’m not doing anything, please don’t hurt me.
But nothing came for him. No giant beast snapped him two.
The small fox leisurely moved away, blending into the rest of the forest’s lights.
He slowly exhaled, his mind calming down. The animal didn’t even notice him. Surely that didn’t count as an act of aggression towards the infinitely powerful ancient creature.
And even if, what could he do? Nothing. He pushed the nine-tailed colossus out of his mind.
Mana sight. The gift that I earned... stole…
Such sight could surely be useful! For hunting and for… what exactly?
David grew angry at himself.
Even given a freebie such as this, he couldn’t figure out any use for it.
Maybe Aura would know? He worried about her reaction, but he dreaded wasting an opportunity even more.
He turned back toward the training stump, fists clenching and unclenching.
Even with Calland rotting in the dirt, Aura…. She was still trapped at home. Fearing discovery by other noble knights.
He had no patience for the village people. Their concerns, their fears, their prayers to the Goddess—what had any of that ever accomplished?
Aura had been forced into hiding. Sophie had been thrown to the wolves. And everyone else stood around waiting for permission to be angry.
It took a child to do something about that.
Pathetic.
The familiar sensation of something slithering nearby sent a sharp jolt through his nerves. His body tensed instinctively, his anger flaring as his head snapped toward the source.
A coiling ivy had slithered its way toward him, its vines creeping forward, testing the air. The living plant pulsed faintly with mana, its tendrils curling toward him like fingers. He had no patience for its probing.
With a growl, he snatched it mid-motion, gripping the vine in his palm. The moment his fingers tightened; he instinctively flooded it with mana—too much.
The ivy shuddered violently before bursting apart in his grasp. The rest of the plant quickly retreated.
David jerked his hand back, swearing under his breath as droplets of liquid splattered his skin. A burning sensation bloomed across his palm.
Acid. Of course. As if I didn’t have enough problems.
He grimaced, wiping his fingers into the grass as stinging pain spread across them.
It wasn’t a deep wound, but it hurt like hell.
Stupid.
He should have known better.
He pulled out a small vial from his satchel—A healing draught of his making.
He uncorked it and poured some of the shimmering liquid over the burn.
Nothing happened.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
His brows furrowed. Did he mess up while making it? He applied more. Still nothing.
The pain remained.
David stared at his hand, his mind whirring. The leftover glow from the plant seemed to be repelling the liquid from his skin.
Did it… neutralize the potion? The idea sent a shiver through him. That’s a nasty side effect.
His mind itched with possibilities, but he forced himself to shake them off.
One thing at a time.
He resolved to ask Aura about the weird change in his sight on their next lesson, but none of It mattered right now.
The pain was still there. Grainwick still loomed in the distance. And he still had his training to finish. He exhaled and dropped into a squat.
Keep moving.
His vision had changed, the world had changed… Had he changed too? Well, if so, then surely for the better.

 
The shed was dimly lit, the air heavy with the scent of chalk and mixed smells of various herbs.
Aura leaned over the wooden workbench, her hands deftly sorting through jars and vials, each labeled with her neat handwriting. David sat across from her, watching intently as she worked.
“I’m proud of you, Marco,” Aura said suddenly, her voice breaking the comfortable silence. She glanced up, her green eyes warm. “Not only have you helped Sophie back to the village, but you also stabilized her leg correctly. It amazes me how skilled you’ve become.”
David shifted in his seat, a mix of guilt and discomfort curling in his chest.
He forced a small smile. “I just… wanted to help.”
He had watched her suffer and did nothing.
There wasn’t much he could do, but still. He silently vowed to visit Sophie later.
Aura’s hand reached across the table to ruffle his hair. “You did more than that. You really made me proud.”
She turned back to her work, pulling out a small vial of clear liquid that shimmered faintly in the light. David stared at her. Even when stuck inside like a bird in a cage, she was able to brighten and be warm.
“Alright, since you had such a difficult time yesterday, we’re going to make something simple. A mana holding liquid.”
David leaned forward, his curiosity genuine, replacing his turmoil even if for but a moment. Aura held up the vial.
“This,” she explained, “is it. You’ve already used it when we were making healing tinctures, but it’s about time you learned to do it from scratch.”
She pointed to another, brightly shining vial. “The better you make this base, the longer the potions you make will keep. It’s very important.”
Aura showed him through the rather lengthy yet simple process.
Cut mana-holding plants and mushrooms down, drop them in water, use mana to disintegrate them into the water.
Done. Simple, right?
David watched the colorless liquid shift and take on a tinted gleam. His vision seemed to correspond with the faint hum of mana he poured in.
Distracted, he messed up – almost instantly overloading the liquid and breaking the pot.
“Marco! What happened?” Aura turned to him in shock as the overloaded sludge ate a hole in the floor between them. “You did harder things on first try!”
“Mommy,” he said hesitantly, “what does it mean to see mana?”
She froze, knitting her brows. Slowly, she turned to him, her expression a mix of curiosity and confusion.
“See mana?” she repeated.
David nodded, his palms growing clammy. “Sometimes… I think I can see it. Like a glow, or… something moving in the air.”
Aura’s gaze sharpened as she leaned uncomfortably close, her eyes locking onto his. For a moment, she studied him intently, her expression unreadable.
She gasped softly, her hand flying to her mouth.
“I could swear it wasn’t there.” she whispered.
David blinked, his pulse quickening. “What wasn’t?”
She leaned closer, her eyes narrowing as she focused. “Your irises… They’ve always been green, but…” She paused, her voice trembling slightly. “There’s a ring of purple around your pupil. It’s tiny, but vibrant.”
David broke into a cold sweat, his heart pounding in his chest.
Aura sat back, her expression a mix of wonder and confusion. “How did I never notice that before?” she murmured.
“What does it mean?” David asked, forcing his voice to remain steady.
Aura hesitated, her fingers tapping against the table. “It’s… a mutation,” she said slowly. “Some people are born with it. It’s rare, though. One of the noble houses—the House of Kira—claims that all true heirs of their line have that mutation and can see mana.”
David swallowed hard, his mind racing even harder.
Calland Kira. It couldn’t be.
Despite feeling like he could die from stress, he had to keep up the conversation. “So I was born special?”
Aura smiled faintly, though her eyes lingered on his face. “Kind of? It’s a useful gift” she said. “More important for battle than for Alchemy.”
David nodded, feigning interest as his mind tensed with uncertainty. Did the golden strand he grab actually change his body? Did he… take in some of Calland? Was it something other people could do? Could that trace the murder back to him?
Luckily, Aura didn’t find it suspicious, at least not yet.
A flicker of inspiration gave him pause.
How did she know so much about some noble house?
Bert once called her a lady…
It all clicked together.
Her knowledge of multiple languages, obvious formal education and a few, seemingly very expensive, possessions.
With how tense everything had been lately, the time for overt caution was over. He adopted the airs of a curious child and asked “Mommy, were you a noble too?”
Aura froze in shock. “Marco, where did you hear that?” She looked genuinely terrified. “Did someone in the village say something like that?”
He quickly shook his head. “No, it’s just… You have such a pretty necklace!” He quickly gathered his thoughts. “And you know so much about things no one else knows!”
Aura exhaled hard, her hand on her chest. She chuckled, the sense of danger leaving her. “It’s a very important secret, you know? But yes. Mommy used to be a noble.”
Rank could mean wealth, power or access to knowledge… But none of that would have mattered to a child. “Wow! Does that make me a noble too? Am I going to be a knight!?” He shouted with feigned enthusiasm.
He wanted nothing to do with knights, to be honest.
Before Aura could respond, heavy steps resounded outside. The shed door creaked open, and Bert stepped inside. He looked toward the floor, perplexed.
“What is that hole? Never mind. Am I interrupting?” he asked.
The way he looked at Aura and the way his tone conveyed just a bit more care than usual – Something must have happened between them while I stormed off.
Aura straightened. “Nothing important, I was just about to tell Marco that I left the nobility to be with you.”
Bert smiled. “Was pretty important to me, but well...” They both chuckled. “it’s just, I spoke to Darryl, and I wanted to confirm something with Marco.” Bert glanced at David, his expression cautious. “I need to ask you something, son.”
David’s stomach churned. “What is it?”
Bert sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “When you found Sophie… You also found a dead knight, but didn’t tell anyone. Is that true?”
David froze, his mind scrambling for a response. How much do they know?
He was on the brink of a heart attack, but he nodded hesitantly “I… I was scared. I wanted to get Sophie back to the village. And then… I didn’t want anyone to think I… did it.” The truth will hopefully be more absurd than any lie.
Bert’s expression tensed a bit, but then he and Aura exchanged a glance. Then Bert let out a bark of laughter.
“A 9-year-old killing two grown knights?” he said, shaking his head. “That’s a good one.” Whew.
Aura chuckled, her hand resting on David’s shoulder. “You did the right thing, Marco. Getting Sophie back was the important part.” She paused. “But always remember you can tell us anything, alright?” She hugged him softly as she spoke.
No, I don’t think I can.
David forced a small smile, though his heart still raced. The tension in the room dissipated, and Bert ruffled his hair before he left.
Aura turned back to the remains of the pot, resuming cleanup as if nothing had happened. David followed her as she resumed the lesson.
He had risked asking openly.
He had played his role well, but he still didn’t know enough.
So much of her past remained a mystery… How would he ever be able to trust her?
Well, his list of problems ran long, and this wasn’t near its top anyway. Unlike the mental state of a certain green-haired girl.