Throughout the following months, Soren regularly retreated to the woods behind the village to train in private. There he had found a small pond that appeared to be made for him. The place was remote enough from the village to give him the silence he needed to fully concentrate on his magic.
The sun's rays fell unobstructed on the pond, no tree tops or shadows interrupted the light that gently warmed his skin. Although he didn't necessarily get stronger when the sun shone on him, it gave him a nice feeling of security.
Every time Soren came to the pond, he sat on the pond bank, closed his eyes and concentrated on the energy inside him – his mana, as he now knew it was called.
His progress in using magic was remarkable. He had learned to shape magic to his will, to transform it into balls of light or rays of light. But the real challenge was to make it stronger and to control it even then.
But it wasn't as easy as it sounded. His sun magic had a destructive side that, if not controlled, could easily destroy the life around him.
The harder he concentrated his magic, the more the pond or the ground on which he sat suffered.
Once, Soren had tried to create a small sun with his magic. An attempt that incinerated everything within a five-metre radius around him. The plants withered instantly, the grass charred, and the life that bloomed around the pond vanished in an instant. The ground was black and bare, and the pond itself began to evaporate for a moment.
His goal was to isolate the heat in his solar magic so that he would not hurt any innocent people or future allies in battle in the future.
Soren still wanted to make sure that the power and heat of his magic were maintained, only that it was concentrated exclusively on the target he was aiming at. He didn't want to reduce the destructive power of his solar magic, just use it more selectively.
But he not only trained and strengthened his magical abilities during this time, he also steeled his body.
Every morning, before the sun had risen fully, he ran through the woods around the pond. At first, he only covered short distances with quick steps, but soon he was able to cover longer distances without getting out of breath.
After running, he began to use his own weight as a training tool. Push-ups, squats, and other bodyweight exercises became part of his daily ritual. At first, his arms and legs ached as if they were filled with lead, but he gritted his teeth and pushed through.
The reason why he did that was that he had seen how the magic knight used his magic in close combat. He was sure that magic could be used to enhance his body as well. Even if he wasn't able to do that yet, he wanted to prepare his body for the utmost.
If the moment should come that his suspicions turned out to be the truth, he wanted to be prepared. Besides, he didn't have much to do except help Idris with the household or her work, and a little extra training never hurt.
But in addition to his intensive training, other things were happening that influenced Soren's life in the village. He began to get to know the villagers better and better. It turned out that they were all extremely hardworking and friendly people. No matter if it was the blacksmith, the merchant or the simple farmer's wife, they had all welcomed him as if he were one of their own. None of them asked any questions about where he came from or what his story was.
Whether they trusted him because they knew and trusted Idris, or whether they really didn't care, was not something Soren questioned. Perhaps it was simply because he was just a child. An innocent boy settling in a small village was far less conspicuous than a strange adult with an unknown background.
His manners and maturity seemed to impress them as well.
And then there was Idris. Soren continued to live with her and help her wherever he could. Whether it was keeping the house in order or helping to collect herbs, he tried to support her as much as he could. Over time, the thought grew in him that Idris might see him as the son she never had. Her husband had left this world too soon.
Although he was very fond of Idris and grateful to her for taking him in, he could never really see her as a foster mother. The memory of his own mother was still too strong for that. But that did not affect their relationship. He valued Idris, and even if he did not see her as a mother figure, he knew that she had given him a home when he needed it most. He was deeply grateful to her for that.
He himself must have seemed strange in the eyes of the villagers and Idris, too, surely. The way he spoke was not that of an ordinary child.
But he had no intention of changing or adapting just to be less conspicuous. Soren was the person he was, and that was something that would not change.
And so the years passed while Soren trained tirelessly and prepared himself to face the decisive day when he would receive his grimoire.
Soren spent seven years in the small, insignificant village that had become a second home to him. During this time, he matured, both physically and mentally.
He had continuously trained and refined his magic. He had learned to precisely control the immense heat and power and to direct it only at his targets, without endangering the environment or innocents.
He was ready for his journey.
---
''Good morning, Soren. Did you sleep well?'' Idris asked with a big smile while she was preparing breakfast at the stove. The smell of fried bacon and eggs filled his nose and he could already hear his stomach growling.
''I slept great, thanks for asking. Although I had trouble falling asleep at first,'' he admitted while suppressing a yawn.
''That's quite normal. I also had difficulties when I received my Grimoire. Everyone is excited. But don't worry, I'm sure you will get a wonderful Grimoire,'' she answered while she placed the pan with the fried eggs on the table.
''Enjoy your meal,'' they both said at the same time.
After they had finished breakfast, Soren wasted no time and set off with Idris. Today was the day he would receive his grimoire, and his excitement made him put on his shoes faster than usual and close the door behind him.
The Grimoire Tower, where the ceremony took place, was in the neighbouring village of Amberglen. The route there was short and did not lead through dense forests, but along an open, well-maintained road. It was a route free of danger, and in the beautiful weather that day, they had decided to enjoy the walk to the full.
''Good morning, Soren and Idris,'' greeted Henry, one of their neighbours, who was already working in the field as they passed.
''Good morning, Henry,'' Soren replied cheerfully and waved his hand.
Henry wiped the sweat from his brow and grinned broadly at them. ''I assume you're on your way to the Grimoire Acceptance Ceremony, aren't you?''
''Indeed we are,'' Idris confirmed.
''Excited?''
''A little, yes.''
Henry laughed. ''I believe that you will. And you're going to get a great grimoire and become a Magic Knight. I believe in you!''
''Thank you, Henry,'' Soren beamed.
''See you later, Henry,'' Idris and Soren waved and continued on their way.
''Good luck,'' Henry called after them.
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