A year had passed, her parents didn't smile at Ysa very much anymore. It had been that way for a long time, almost as long as Sylvia had been around. Ysa tried to be good, but they still seemed to like Sylvia best. Maybe it was because Sylvia was smaller and had those cute, chubby cheeks. But even though Ysa tried to understand, it still made her tummy feel funny and sad. She wished her parents would hug her like they hugged Sylvia. "Happy Birthday, Ysa!" Nana Maria's voice was warm as she gently woke Ysa that morning. It was Ysa's 6th birthday."Good morning, Nana!" Ysa beamed, excitedly jumping out of bed. There was a spark of anticipation in her eyes, as if she were waiting for more—something special.Nana Maria hesitated for a moment, her smile faltering. "What would you like for breakfast? I can prepare whatever you want," she asked awkwardly. But Ysa wasn't interested in breakfast just yet.She tilted her head, eyes full of hope. "Um, Nana, aren't you going to say anything else? Where are my parents? Won't they eat breakfast with me? Are they busy? Maybe they just forgot…" She paused, her enthusiasm faltering for just a moment, but quickly regained it. "Well, I'll just look for them!"With that, Ysa skipped out of her room, humming "Happy Birthday" under her breath. She was sure her parents were somewhere, maybe planning a surprise. She hurried through the halls, her heart filled with hope. It was her birthday, after all. Maybe they would take her shopping, just like they did for Sylvia's birthday. And today, she would ask them about school—when she could start her studies and finally make them proud.Her steps were light as she made her way through the house, her heart set on finding them. Surely they would remember today.As Ysa turned the corner, she overheard the soft murmurs of the servants nearby."Such a shame… They put all their hopes on her, and she turned out to be nothing," whispered one of the maids.The other maid sighed in agreement. "Miss Sylvia is different, though. She'll be something great."Ysa paused as a result of their words. Are they talking about me? she wondered, her heart sinking for just a moment.Ysa frowned. She didn't understand what they meant. Nana Maria always said she was special, even without magic."Gathering her courage, Ysa stepped forward and cleared her throat softly. "Uhm, excuse me. Do you know where Mother and Father are?" she asked, her small voice calm and poised, carrying the dignity of her noble lineage despite her simple dress, unlike the extravagant ones her sister always wore.The maids jumped slightly, surprised to see her. One of them hurriedly answered, "Ah, sorry, miss. Your parents are in the study."Ysa nodded politely, then continued on her way toward the study, her heart still hopeful, believing that today—her birthday—would bring the attention she had longed for.Ysa stood in front of the study, her small hand trembling as she took a deep breath and knocked softly on the door. "It's me, Mother, Father… Ysa."Her father's voice came through the heavy wooden door. "Come in."Pushing the door open, Ysa stepped inside, her heart pounding with excitement. "Good morning, Father, Mother!" she said, beaming from ear to ear, hoping for some warmth, some acknowledgment of her special day.While her mother's face twisted in annoyance over the interruption, her father stared at her, waiting for her to say something more."What is it?" Lucinda snapped impatiently. "Are you going to say something or just stand there?"Ysa blinked, her smile faltering, confused by their coldness. Why are they upset?Still, she gathered her courage and smiled again. "It's my birthday today, Mother!" she said, her voice filled with the hope of a child.But instead of joy, her mother's expression remained hard. "So?" Lucinda replied coldly. "You interrupted us just to tell us it's your birthday?"Ysa hesitated, feeling her confidence slip away. "Umm, yes?" she answered, her voice trembling. "I was hoping we could go shopping like you do for Sylvia's birthday… and also, I wanted to ask when I'll go to school." Her gaze dropped to her feet her small voice barely audible by the end of the sentence.Greg and Lucinda exchanged glances irritation written across their faces. Before her father could respond, Lucinda cut in, her voice sharp. "Shopping? You already have plenty of dresses. Why would you need more? And school? What would you even study? You don't have any affinity!" she nearly shouted, her words stinging Ysa like a whip.Greg's voice was sharp, his brows furrowed. 'Go back to your room, Ysa...' If you want to study so badly, go to the library and read all you want. But don't disturb us again with such nonsense."Tears welled up in Ysa's eyes. She didn't understand why they were so angry. She just wanted them to smile at her, to tell her happy birthday. Without another word, she turned and walked out of the study, closing the door behind her. As it shut, she heard her parents' voices continue inside."Ha! Does that child want to study?! She'll just waste our resources. We can't send Ysa to study. It's shameful enough that she carries the Montemayor name after failing to awaken. She's not to appear in public like this." Lucinda scoffed."Forget her," Greg replied dismissively. "Let's focus on planning Sylvia's birthday for next year."Ysa's heart shattered as she listened to them make plans for Sylvia's celebration, while her own birthday was today. The weight of disappointment and sadness was too much for her to bear. As she walked down the hallway, silent tears streamed down her cheeks.The servants whispered and murmured as she passed, their pitying gazes following her. Ysa felt her chest tighten, her heart heavy with pain. She had hoped, for just one day, to feel loved and special. But all she was left with was the cold reality that her parents saw her as nothing. A tearful sob escaped her as she hurried back to the one place she felt safe—her room.The six-year-old Ysa couldn't understand why her parents didn't love her the way they loved Sylvia, but the sadness that filled her heart was undeniable. All she wanted was to be seen, to be valued. But today, on her birthday, she felt more invisible than ever.As Ysa wandered through the grand hallways, her footsteps light, she overheard her mother's voice in the drawing room."Sylvia, my darling, you're going to be something special—unlike Ysa." Lucinda said with a dismissive voice. Lucinda's fingers gently twirled Sylvia's glossy curls as she spoke.The words stung. Ysa knew she shouldn't let them hurt her, but they did. She forced herself to stay silent and kept walking, the familiar ache settling in her chest.There were days, like today, when Sylvia would peek into her room and call out just to tease her, saying, "Ate Ysa! Once I have my awakening, I'll probably be the most powerful of them all."Ysa smiled weakly in response, trying to mask her frustration.Ysa said softly, "You're very lucky, Sylvia."Sylvia giggled, "Mother says I'm going to be amazing. Everyone will see how wonderful I am!"Another year passed, and Sylvia's birthday and also her awakening are near. The excitement in the mansion is palpable. Lucinda had arranged a grand celebration. Invitations were sent out to important families in Kaptan City, with plans to expand their connections. Sylvia, the favored child, was on the cusp of securing the Montemayor family's future.The mansion buzzed with anticipation, but Ysa felt invisible among the preparations. She slipped away to the garden, tears slipping down her cheeks. She hadn't wanted to cry—she hated feeling weak. But the rejection was too much.Ysa lay in the soft grass of the garden, her eyes fixed on the night sky. It was full of stars, twinkling like distant lanterns against the deep black canvas of the heavens. Since her last birthday, she has spent most of her time alone, except for the comforting company of her Nana Maria. Her days were filled with quiet solitude, often spent playing by herself and watching the tiny lights that always seemed to float around her.She could see them now, drifting like colored specks of dust, shimmering in various colors as they swirled lazily around her. Ysa had been seeing these colored lights ever since her awakening on her fifth birthday. They were always there—floating, dancing, just out of reach.Sometimes, she would ask Nana Maria about them. "Nana, what are these colored dusts in the air?" she'd ask, her young voice filled with curiosity. But Nana Maria would just smile kindly and sweep the room clean, saying, "Look, Ysa, no more colored dust. The room is clean now."Yet, even after Nana Maria was done cleaning, the colored lights never went away. They would always return, filling the space with their strange, mesmerizing glow. Ysa had learned not to mention them anymore. But still, she couldn't help but wonder about these lights. They had become a quiet, comforting presence in her lonely world.In the early days after Ysa's Awakening, Nana Maria would often hear her talk about "colored dust" in the room. Curious, she would look for it while cleaning, but she never found anything unusual. Nana Maria never seemed to notice the lights, even when Ysa pointed them out directly. Maybe grown-ups just didn't see the world the same wayShe swung her hands at the lights. "Shooo, shooo" trying to bat them away, but they only swirled in the air, unaffected. In her flailing, Ysa's hand caught on a thorn from a rosebush. A sharp pain shot through her finger."Ouch! "That hurt! Why did it have to prick her?" Ysa winced, gripping her hand where the thorn had scratched her. She rubbed and waved her hand around to make the pain go away. But then, something strange happened."Huh? What…?" she muttered, staring at the scratch. The white lights that had been hovering around her seemed to be caught on her wound. Slowly, bit by bit, they began sinking into her skin, and as they did, the wound started to heal—visibly, right before her eyes.In shock, Ysa shrieked, her heart racing. "Mother! Mother!" she yelled, bolting down the hallway, her hand still outstretched as the white lights continued to sink into the wound.By the time she reached her mother, her heart pounding, she thrust her hand forward. "Mother, look! The colored dust—it's healing my wound!"Lucinda looked up, her expression cold and unreadable. "Ysa, what is it now?" she asked, irritation clear in her voice.Ysa eagerly showed her hand. "Look! The wound—it was healing! The lights—they did it!"Lucinda glanced briefly at her daughter's hand, now perfectly smooth, the scratch entirely gone. Her face hardened. "Ysa, there's nothing there. Stop with this nonsense."Ysa's mouth fell open. She looked down at her hand, then back at her mother. The scratch was really gone. Why didn't Mama believe her?The servants shifted uncomfortably, their eyes darting between Ysa and Lucinda. One maid bit her lip, and another looked down at the floor. No one said anything."But..." Ysa started to say, but her voice caught in her throat. She felt a hot flush creep up her neck. Mother thought she was lying.Lucinda turned away, her attention already back on the papers spread across her desk. "Enough, Ysa. Go play outside."Ysa blinked in confusion, staring down at her hand, realizing the wound had completely healed. There was no trace left of the scratch.Ysa felt confused. She asked, "But Mother—"Ysa stammers, "No, Mother, I—""Stop messing around. You should be finding ways to make yourself useful, not running around inventing tales," Lucinda dismissively said.The room spun around her. The servants stared, some with pity in their eyes, others with judgment. Ysa felt the weight of their stares, the rejection from her mother cutting deeper than ever.Her hand dropped to her side, the excitement draining from her.She weakly whispered, "But… the lights."Lucinda turned away, already engrossed in preparations for Sylvia's ceremony.Lucinda barked, "Get back to your duties!" Her voice was sharp and commanding. The servants quickly scurried away, not daring to linger under her icy gaze.Ysa stood frozen, her heart aching. She lost the hope she had felt moments ago. She turned and fled the room, tears stinging her eyes.Back in the garden, she buried her face in her hands and cried. She stared down at her hand, her mind racing. "Why won't my mother believe me?" she whispered, her voice cracking. "They did heal the wounds. Isn't that normal?"Ysa was back in her room, hugging her knees to her chest. She watched the pretty lights floating around her but didn't feel like playing with them today."Why can't anyone else see you?" she whispered to the lights, her voice small and sad.She remembers asking Nana Maria about the colored dust once before. Nana had just smiled while cleaning the room, assuring her there was no dust. Yet the lights remained. Perhaps Nana hadn't seen them.She waved her hand. "If only they could see you," Ysa sighed. "Then maybe they'd believe me."She watched the lights dance above her as she bounced on the bed before snuggling under the covers. Even though no one else could see them, she was glad they were there. At least the pretty lights always remain beside her.