Ruth felt the shaking before he fully woke up. His body swayed with the rhythm of the rough road beneath the carriage. His eyes fluttered open, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings.
He wasn't at home.
The dim interior of the carriage was packed, filled with things he recognized from their home. Blankets, tools, kitchenware—all thrown together in a hurry. Palim stared at the jumbled mess, his mind foggy but slowly piecing things together. This wasn't a normal trip. They had left their home in a rush.
His heart tightened as the memories came back, fast and painful. His mother's scream. The flash of the sword. The world crumbling around him.
Palim's small body shivered. His vision blurred for a moment, and he realized his eyes were wet. Then he heard it. The soft, heart-wrenching sound of sobs.
Becca was next to him, her face buried in her knees, her small shoulders trembling. She was crying quietly, murmuring something between her sobs. "Mommy…" she whispered, her voice cracking. "Mommy…"
Palim reached out instinctively, grabbing her hand. It felt small and fragile, despite being twice larger. Becca squeezed back, clinging to him as if he were her last lifeline. She didn't say anything else, just sobbed quietly, repeating that word over and over.
He wanted to say something to her. Something to make the pain go away. But he couldn't even try to. His throat felt tight, and his thoughts were a whirlwind. His mind kept going back to that moment, the one burned into his memory—the sight of his mother, her worried eyes widening in despair, her body falling to the ground, lifeless.
"Mommy…" Becca whispered again, her sobs growing quieter but no less heartbreaking.
Palim squeezed her hand harder. He leaned his small body into her, and she hugged him back, both of them seeking comfort in the warmth of the other. It didn't fix the emptiness, but it was all they had left.
He lifted his head slightly and looked toward the front of the carriage. He could see his father, Ruth, sitting in the driver's seat. His broad back was tense, his shoulders rigid. Ruth didn't turn to look at them. He just kept his eyes forward, gripping the reins of the horses with a tight, unwavering hold.
Palim could see the strain in his father's posture, the weight of everything crushing down on him. Ruth wasn't the same man who had been playing with him in the garden not long ago. This was a different man—one burdened with grief and anger, one running from a horror neither of them had fully understood.
The carriage jolted over another bump in the road, and Palim's heart sank deeper. They had left everything behind. Their home, their life, their mother. He glanced at the scattered belongings around them. These things were just grabbed in haste, whatever they could take in a panic.
"Demons," Palim thought bitterly. Those monsters from the forest had come for them, without warning or reason. His mother, who had always protected them, who had always been strong, was gone in an instant. Taken from them by a ruthless, merciless enemy.
A knot of anger formed in his chest. It burned with each passing second, growing hotter. He was helpless in that moment. Too weak. Too small. He couldn't protect anyone—not his mother, not his sister, not even himself.
His father had told them stories about the past. About the war they fought in. Palim had listened with wide eyes, fascinated by the tales of bravery and battle. But those were just stories. Now, he understood. That war, the one his parents had fought so hard to leave behind, had come for them.
He clenched his tiny fists, feeling the sting of failure deep in his gut. His mother was gone, and he hadn't done anything to stop it. He should have been stronger. Smarter. Something. Anything to have made a difference.
He stared at his father's back again. Ruth hadn't spoken since they fled. Palim didn't know what was going through his mind, but he knew one thing for sure—this wasn't over. The war his father had fought once had returned, and now, it was his war too.
His mind wandered to the moments his mother had held him, her gentle touch, her warm smile. She had been so kind, so full of love. His eyes stung again, but this time, it wasn't just sorrow. It was a promise. He would avenge her. He didn't know how, not yet, but he swore to himself that he wouldn't let her death be for nothing.
Becca shifted beside him, her sobs slowing as exhaustion took over. Palim wrapped his arm around her neck, letting her rest her head against his. She was his responsibility now. He had to protect her.
His gaze shifted downward, to his hands. The tiny fingers that had failed to stop that sword. He flexed them, feeling the air around him. The world was vast, maybe dangerous, but it had rules—rules that he needed to understand.
He could sense it now, the faint traces of mana in the air. It swirled around them, invisible but present. For the first time, Palim focused on that feeling, on the energy that lingered in the atmosphere. It was like the wood he had recycled, like the leaves, but different. Lighter. Subtle.
He closed his eyes, blocking out the sound of the carriage wheels creaking beneath them. Blocking out the sobs and the memories of his mother's death. All that mattered now was the air, and the mana in it.
He concentrated, drawing in the mana with every breath.
[Recycle : Mana]
It was almost impossible to feel the change, but it was there. A faint, infinitesimal shift in the energy around him. He focused harder, pushing his thoughts toward the magic in the air. His body trembled, sweat forming on his brow.
A flicker of success. The tiniest fragment of energy flowed into him, so small it was nearly insignificant. But it was there. He had done it.
[Skill Unlocked: Mana Detection – F Rank]
[Skill Unlocked: Air Manipulation – D Rank]
Palim opened his eyes. His heart was still heavy, but a small glimmer of determination burned within him now. He could grow. He could learn. He wasn't powerless.
Becca's quiet breathing filled the carriage as she drifted into sleep. His father's silence stretched on, a wall of grief between them all.
Palim stared at his hands again, clenching them tightly. He had lost too much today, but he wouldn't let it happen again. Not without a fight.
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