The icy wind howled as it raced through the narrow alleys of the slums, its chill sinking deep into the bones of those unlucky enough to call this place home. Snow covered the rooftops, caving in some of the weaker ones, while frost painted the windows of the more fortunate houses. This was a place where the sun seemed to hesitate to rise, where warmth was a distant memory—a place Edmund, now Edward, would come to know as home.
"Hold tight, child," Agatha whispered, pulling her thick, tattered shawl tighter around the small boy in her arms. The boy's face, once filled with tears and confusion, was now pale and weary, his breaths coming out in soft, visible puffs in the freezing air.
"Why is it so cold here, Grandma?" Edward asked, his voice trembling as he nestled closer to her chest.
Agatha paused for a moment, her weathered face softening as she looked down at him. "The cold keeps the weak away," she said cryptically. "But you, Edward, are strong."
Edward knew what she meant, he vaguely remembers his mom, and the luxury he was born in, he decided to keep it to himself as he trusted Agatha. The woman had given up everything in order to keep him alive and safe. His name, Edmund, even felt like it belonged to someone else. Here, in this new world, she was his everything. Her rough hands and stern voice carried the warmth of a fire in this otherwise frozen wasteland.
They arrived at a ramshackle home at the edge of the slums. It was small, its wooden walls warped by years of frost and neglect, but it was sturdy enough to keep the worst of the cold at bay. Agatha nudged the door open with her shoulder, her arms still tightly wrapped around Edward.
"Inside, quickly now," she said, her tone brisk. The boy obeyed, his small feet scurrying across the creaking floorboards. Agatha followed, shutting the door firmly behind them.
The interior was sparse but surprisingly tidy. A single room served as the kitchen, bedroom, and sitting area. The only other space was a small storage closet. A humble fire crackled in the corner, its faint warmth a small relief against the bitter chill.
"Sit here, by the fire," Agatha instructed, pointing to a woven mat. Edward did as he was told, watching as she rummaged through the kitchen area. She returned with a bowl of steaming soup, its aroma comforting despite its thinness.
"Eat," she said, pressing the bowl into his hands. "It's not much, but it'll warm you up."
Edward nodded, his small hands gripping the bowl tightly as he took careful sips. Agatha sat beside him, her stern expression softening as she watched him. For a brief moment, the cold seemed to retreat, leaving only the warmth of their small, shared space.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. The routines of the slums became their life. Agatha worked tirelessly, taking on odd jobs to keep them fed and the fire burning. Despite the hardship, she always found time for Edward. She taught him to fetch water from the frozen well, to patch the holes in their clothes, and to navigate the treacherous alleys of the slums.
But more than that, she gave him love. It was in the way she ruffled his hair when he got something right, in the way she scolded him when he was careless, and in the way she held him close when the cold nights became too much.
Edward, in turn, grew attached to her. He didn't know why she cared for him so deeply or why she insisted he call her "Grandma," but he didn't question it. In a world that seemed to offer nothing but cold and hardship, Agatha was his anchor.
One evening, as the snow fell heavily outside, Edward sat by the fire, his small hands cupping a mug of weak tea. Agatha was mending one of his shirts, her needle moving deftly through the fabric.
"Grandma," Edward began hesitantly, "why do we live here? Why don't we go somewhere warmer?"
Agatha looked up from her sewing, her sharp eyes meeting his. For a moment, she didn't answer. Then, with a sigh, she set the shirt aside.
"Edward," she said, her voice steady but tinged with a sadness he couldn't quite place, "the world isn't kind to people like us. There are places warmer than this, yes, but they come with their own dangers. Here, in the cold, we're safe."
"Safe from what?" he pressed.
"From those who would take you from me," she said simply. "You're special, Edward. More special than you know. And that makes you a target."
Edward frowned, remembering the night Agatha ran with Edmund, the only reason he could think of being holed up here is that his family was being targeted.
Life in the slums was hard, but it had its moments of light. Agatha made sure Edward had opportunities to learn and grow. She introduced him to a local teacher, a kind man named Mr. Delver, who taught children from the slums how to read, write, and do basic arithmetic, even being able to read and write was a big thing for commoners, as even the cost of a single paper was too much for a commoner to afford.
"Education is the first step out of the cold," Agatha told Edward as she handed Mr. Delver a small pouch of coins. "Make the most of it."
Edward found himself fascinated by the things Mr. Delver used to teach him, as this was the only way for Edward to learn about the new world he was in, even though this was the situation he still thinks of this as his second chance.
"Grandma, did you know the House of Zephyrix rules the oceans?" he said one evening, his eyes bright with excitement as he pored over a tattered atlas. "And the House of Soltharion lives in a place just like this, but even colder!"
Agatha chuckled softly. "Yes, the Soltharion are rulers of the land we live on, they are high above the peek of mountain from where all the cold blows down to here, nobles are very powerful," she said. "But remember, Edward, power isn't everything. It's what you do with it that matters."
As the years passed, Edward learned the ways of the slums, how to avoid trouble, and how to make the most of what little they had. But through it all, Agatha remained his guiding star.
One cold, clear night, as the two of them sat by the fire, Edward turned to her with a question that had been nagging at him.
"Grandma," he said, "why do you love me?"
Agatha looked at him, her weathered face illuminated by the flickering flames. She reached out, pulling him into a gentle embrace.
"Because you're my family," she said simply. "You're my grandson. And I will love you until my last breath."
Edward didn't know what to say, he was unable to understand that why his nanny is so warm to him? Agatha raised Edmund s her own Grandkid , while filling the role of his father, mother both, without ever letting out or making Edward feel that he is Edmund. An overwhelming feeling swept in Edmund's chest, he was happy that Agatha was with her, he said nothing . He buried his face in her shoulder, feeling the warmth of her love wash over him. In that moment, the cold outside didn't matter. He was home.
The morning sun barely penetrated the thick gray clouds that hung over the slums, casting a muted, dreary light over the world. Edward stood outside their small home, brushing frost off a wooden bucket. His breath puffed in white clouds as he glanced at the long line of people waiting by the frozen well at the center of the settlement.
"Don't take too long, Edward," Agatha called from inside, her voice as firm as ever. "The fire won't keep itself going."
"I know, Grandma!" Edward replied, now 8 years old, grabbing the bucket and joining the queue. His fingers, already numb from the cold, clenched tightly around the wooden handle.
As he waited, Edward's mind wandered. He remembered the things Mr. Delver had told him during his lessons—a world filled with magic, noble houses, and incredible power. A world that felt so far removed from the icy streets of the slums. He remembered that Mr. Delver told him how weather does not effect that much to people having mana, the more mana one has the sturdy their body will be against surroundings and diseases, hence those who do mana cultivation live an average life of 180yrs.
Edward shifted on his feet, trying to keep warm. A group of soldiers stood nearby, they were the soldiers of a local viscount, given duty to maintain peace in slums. The soldiers donned collarless, pale blue tunics cut short at the sleeves, paired with breeches that clung snugly to their form. A mantle draped over their shoulders, to keep them dry.While other people present their were wearing layers over layers, Here theses soldiers are, not even wearing gloves, just laughing and having fun among themselves, as the cold have no effects on them.
"Must be nice," Edward muttered under his breath, his eyes fixed on soldiers. "To not feel cold all the time…"
The soldiers noticed him staring. One of them, tall and wiry with a smug grin, stepped closer.
"What's the matter, runt?" the soldier sneered. "Wishing you could do this too?"
Edward glared at him but said nothing.
"You can't, though," the boy continued, his tone mocking. "You're just a commoner. And commoners who mess with mana—"
"—die," another soldier finished, laughing.
Edward clenched his fists, anger bubbling beneath the surface. He opened his mouth to retort, but the soldiers had already turned away, their laughter echoing as they walked off.
---
That evening, Edward sat by the fire in their home, his face set in a troubled frown. Agatha was knitting in her usual chair, her sharp eyes flicking to him now and then.
"Something on your mind, Edward?" she asked, her tone calm but probing.
Edward hesitated. "Grandma… why we use mana?"
Agatha stilled, her knitting needles pausing mid-stitch. For a moment, she said nothing. Then she set the needles down and leaned forward, her expression serious.
"Mana is not just a tool, Edward," she began, her voice low. "It's a gift. One bestowed by the god Agraith upon the noble houses long ago. They claim it was meant only for them and the ones they choose."
Edward frowned. "Why?"
"Because they believe commoners are cursed," Agatha explained, her voice tinged with disdain. "They say we committed some great crime against Agraith, and as punishment, we were forbidden from wielding mana. If we try to use it without being given authority by one of the 6 houses—"
"We die," Edward finished, recalling the boys' taunts.
Agatha nodded. "It's not just a tale to scare children. Mana is a living force, Edward. It's not something to take lightly."
"But that's not fair!" Edward burst out, his frustration spilling over. "Why should they get to have all the power while we freeze and starve?"
Agatha's eyes softened, but her tone remained firm. "Life isn't fair, Edward. But fairness isn't what you should be chasing. Strength, resilience—those will serve you better."
Edward fell silent, his mind racing. Things as they are were not making any sense, he was a noble, can he use mana?, And how does the 6 houses have the power to grant this boon, to override the curse?
The idea of commoners being bound by a curse, of being denied something so vital, filled him with resentment. But beneath that anger lay something else—an ember of curiosity, one he couldn't ignore.
---
The next day, Edward attended his lessons with Mr. Delver. The kind teacher had prepared a new set of maps for the students, detailing the various terrains ruled by the noble houses. Edward poured over the maps, his fingers tracing the lines of rivers, mountains, and deserts.
"Mr. Delver," Edward asked, raising his hand, "do all the noble houses use mana the same way?"
The teacher smiled, his wrinkled face lighting up at the question. "Not at all, Edward. Each house has its own unique connection to mana, shaped by their terrain and history."
He pointed to a map showing a vast expanse of ocean. "Take the House of Zephyrix, for example. Their mastery over water and the sea is unparalleled. They can command tides, summon storms, and even communicate with marine creatures."
Edward's eyes widened as Mr. Delver moved to another map, this one showing towering mountains. "And the House of Aerithis—masters of the sky. They wield the wind, conjure storms, and soar through the heavens as if they were birds."
As Mr. Delver continued, describing the Verdant Expanse of Lumeris, the icy tundras of Soltharion, and the Sunscrouge waste of Vyrnspire, Edward felt his world expand. The noble houses were more than just oppressors; they were forces of nature, wielding powers that seemed almost divine.
"But what about commoners?" Edward asked, unable to hold back the question. "If we were granted authority to use mana from a house, are we bounded to use the type of magic that the house use? Or is there something else?"
Mr. Delver's smiled, "It's upto you Edward, although the house follows a similar type of magic, it does not mean that everyone in that terrain also uses the same magic" he said gently. "Let's take the glacial expanse as an example, the land we are on, Although around 80% of people who use mana here use magic resonating to ice, to make weapons and structure out of ice, but there are also people who uses other magic, sand, air, water, healing magic body strengthening, we also have illusion magic," Mr. Delver took a brief pause and said,""Fire magic is the toughest known, people are able to make sparks, to light fire, but that's it".
Although some of the question of Edward were answered, he was just filled with more, "Can a person learn two types of magic?" Edwar immediately said again "and How can we be granted authority by one of the six houses?"
Mr. Delver said "well to answer your first question, yes, you can learn two or more type of magic at once, infact the head of Anti-demon vanguard have learnt each and every type of magic completely" after a brief pause he said "but the heads were exception, the person who becomes the head will be granted this boon, for everyone else, they can learn the magic but it's really hard to do mastery in them"
"As for your second question" Mr. Delver said seriously "To receive the authority means you have to either something so outstanding that you will be granted a title, even if it's baron, you will be granted the authority, or, you can enlist to work as soldier for a viscount or above, and once a year the boon are granted to all the new recruits, but you will have to sign a loyalty contract for that"
"Edward" Mr Delver said seriously as he was worried, "The nobles' stories may be exaggerated, but they're not entirely untrue. Commoners are cursed to die if they use mana without proper authority, even childrens of noble are restricted to use mana as mana is a force that requires great stability—physical, mental, and emotional. Without it, the results can be catastrophic."
Edward nodded, but his mind was already turning. Stability? I'm stable enough, aren't I? And I'm not really a commoner… Am I?
---
That night, as Edward lay on his makeshift bed, he was not able to believe that he was in a new world, "magic is here in this world, I am sure I will have the authority to control all the magic in this world, there might be some reason god chose me to transmigrate, but how to start, I have not yet seen anyone performing magic till now, just some healing magic, that's all I have seen… ehh I will worry about it later"
"I'll find a way, somehow" he whispered to himself.
The cold wind rattled the shutters, but Edward barely noticed, he fall asleep beside his grandma while thinking how the rest of the world will be like outside this slum.