The aroma of roasted meat and freshly baked bread filled the room as the Nightvale family gathered around the dinner table. Poll was already halfway through his plate when Eryndor cleared his throat, the universal sign for "serious conversation incoming."
"Poll," Eryndor began, eyeing him over the rim of his cup, "remember what we talked about earlier?"
Poll paused mid-bite, the fork hovering near his mouth. "Oh, right." He swallowed quickly, trying to look serious but ending up looking more like a chipmunk hoarding food. "Yes, Father."
Seraphina, sitting across from them, raised a curious eyebrow. "What's going on with you two? You look like conspirators plotting world domination."
Poll scratched the back of his head, nervous yet determined. "It's about that spell. The one I used when… well, everything went boom."
Seraphina's expression shifted, her fork now idle. "You're ready to talk about it?" she asked, her tone both stern and concerned. "Alright, start from the beginning. Where did you even learn a spell like that?"
Poll leaned forward, his voice dropping as if the walls might overhear. "Honestly, I don't know. When I was trapped by that wolf, my mind started to… glitch." He waved his hands for emphasis. "Like static on a broken crystal orb."
Eryndor raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Glitch?"
Seraphina's fork paused mid-air. "That spell?" Her voice had dropped an octave. "Alright, Poll. Spill it. Where did you learn it, and how did you even manage to cast something like that?"
Poll hesitated, his eyes darting between his parents. "Well… I don't exactly remember all the details," he admitted. "When I was, uh, captured by that wolf, everything started glitching in my head. Then suddenly, I recalled some stuff about atoms and nuclear fusion—"
"Wait, atoms?" Seraphina's voice rose an octave. "You mean those tiny particles that only high-level mages and scholars even theorize about?"
Poll nodded, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah… and then I kinda… maybe… focused my mana on that? Next thing I knew, boom, explosion, and I woke up in bed."
Seraphina set her fork down slowly, her face a mix of shock and mild terror. "Poll, that's… not normal."
Eryndor sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Poll, what you did was beyond advanced magic. We're talking sage-level theory here. Most mages your age are still struggling with basic fireballs, and you're out here rewriting the laws of mana."
Poll blinked. "Wait, really? I thought it was just… basic science."
Eryndor sighed. "For you, maybe.
Seraphina leaned forward, her expression both stern and filled with concern. "Poll, listen to me carefully. The kind of magic you used isn't just dangerous—it's the kind of power that could attract… unwanted attention."
Poll gulped. "You mean like… assassins?"
"Worse," Eryndor said grimly. "Bureaucrats."
Poll's eyes widened in horror. "No… not the paperwork people!"
Seraphina chuckled despite herself, then quickly regained her serious demeanor. "Exactly. That's why from now on, I'll be personally overseeing your magical training. No more rogue experiments."
Poll's face lit up. "You'll teach me? Really?"
"Yes," Seraphina said, nodding firmly. "But on one condition—you have to promise me you won't use that kind of magic again until you're older and fully understand what you're doing."
Poll straightened up, placing a hand over his heart. "I promise. No more world-ending experiments… for now."
Seraphina's face softened, a small smile breaking through her stern demeanor. "Good. Tomorrow, I'll bring you a student's staff. It'll help you focus your mana safely during practice."
Poll grinned. "Thanks, Mother. I'll do my best!"
Eryndor, who had been quietly observing, gave an approving nod. "You're in good hands. And remember, discipline is key. Now, finish your food before it gets cold."
The next morning, Poll's training officially began. His mother guided him through the basics of mana control with the patience of a saint, while Lira, ever the enthusiastic mage, offered her own tips.
"Poll, you need to feel the mana flow," Lira explained, waving her hands dramatically. "Like a river! Or a really big, angry snake."
"Right," Poll said, squinting at his glowing hand. "River-snake… got it."
On other days, his father and Kaida put him through rigorous sword training. Kaida often taunted him with playful jabs.
"Come on, Poll! Swing like you mean it!" Kaida laughed, blocking his wooden sword effortlessly. "You're not going to impress anyone with noodle arms!"
"These noodle arms are a work in progress!" Poll shot back, dodging her counterstrike with surprising agility.
Evenings were reserved for study sessions with Elowen. She took her role as his academic tutor very seriously, which meant Poll often found himself knee-deep in lessons about the kingdom's economic structure or political alliances.
Poll slumped over the table one evening, groaning. "Elowen, do we really need to know about grain trade routes? Can't we study something cool, Like… dragon anatomy or how to tame a griffin?"
Elowen gave him a pointed look, her sky-blue hair shimmering in the candlelight. "Poll, knowing how a kingdom functions is just as important as knowing how to swing a sword. What if you become a leader one day?"
Poll sighed dramatically. "Fine, but if I fall asleep, it's on you."
True to form, Elowen was the one who often dozed off mid-lesson, her head landing on the open pages of a history book. Poll smiled as he draped a blanket over her. Those quiet moments of closeness became some of his most cherished memories.
As the days turned into weeks and months, Poll's life settled into a busy but fulfilling routine. Between magic lessons, sword practice, and academic studies, he barely had time to breathe. Yet, he found himself growing stronger, smarter, and more confident with each passing day.
[LIKE THAT 3 YEARS AND FEW MONTHS PASSED]