"An infinite symbol?" My mind raced, struggling to comprehend why his mana potential displayed the infinity sign.
I had meticulously tested the glasses on several subjects, including Galen, ensuring they functioned flawlessly. Each test subject's potential was clear, with defined limits. Yet, this boy's reading was: [0/∞].
The implications were staggering. The polished lenses shimmered, reflecting this baffling data back at me.
Just moments earlier, Galen and I had intervened when we saw the boy being beaten by a group of men. We fought them off, and now the boy stood before us, bruised and shaken, his eyes darting with a mix of fear and gratitude.
"Your high—Ahem... Draven?" Galen's voice broke my thoughts, his hesitant tone almost revealing our true identities.
"Oh, sorry for spacing out. Are you from here, Andre? Where are you from?" I asked, offering my hand to help the boy up. The etched runes on the inner side of the glasses' temples felt smooth against my fingers.
"I don't have a home... I need to go. Thank you for helping me," Andre stammered, his voice barely audible. He quickly ran off without waiting for a response, his footsteps echoing in the narrow alley.
"Wait!" I called after him, urgency in my voice. But he didn't stop, disappearing into the distance.
"Follow him, Galen."
"Huh? Why?" Galen's confusion was evident, his brows furrowing.
"Just do it! Quickly!"
"Alright."
"Track him and report back where he lives. Don't scare him," I instructed firmly.
Galen sighed, "Do I look that scary to you?"
"Yes. Now go!"
As Galen took off, I couldn't shake the image of the infinite symbol from my mind. What secrets did this boy hold? How could his potential be limitless? The questions swirled in my head, deepening the mystery.
---
The sun hung high in the sky as I waited by the town's gate for Galen's return. My mind buzzed with possibilities and uncertainties. Soon, Galen approached, his expression serious and his pace brisk.
"Your Highness," he began, "the boy lives in the slums. He's taking care of his sick sister."
I nodded. "Lead me to him."
We navigated through the bustling streets into the narrow, winding alleys of the slums. The air was thick with the stench of decay and unwashed bodies. The ground was littered with refuse, and makeshift shacks lined the path. We arrived at a decrepit shack at the end of an alley, its roof patched with scraps, barely keeping the elements at bay.
Inside, a flickering candle cast long shadows on the cracked walls. The room was sparsely furnished with a rickety table, mismatched chairs, and a threadbare mat on the dirt floor. Andre knelt beside the mat, tending to his sister. She lay pale and sickly, her breathing labored.
"Your Highness, this is where they live," Galen whispered, sadness in his voice.
I took in the scene, my heart heavy with compassion and curiosity. The boy's potential was unlike anything I'd ever seen. His circumstances deepened the mystery. What could have caused such an anomaly?
Andre noticed our presence and looked up, his eyes wide with surprise and a hint of fear. "Why are you here?" he asked, his voice trembling.
"We want to help," I replied softly, taking a step forward. "Your sister needs medical attention, and we can provide that."
Andre glanced at his sister and then back at us, uncertainty written all over his face. "I don't know if I can trust you," he admitted.
"You don't have to trust us right away," I said gently. "But let us help your sister. She doesn't deserve to suffer."
Andre hesitated for a moment before nodding slowly. "Alright, but if you try anything funny..." His voice trailed off, leaving the threat hanging in the air.
"We understand," I said, trying to reassure him. "We'll do everything we can to help her."
Adjusting my glasses, I looked at Andre's sister. She had the same striking gray hair as her brother, though now it lay matted against her forehead, damp with sweat. Her face was pale, a stark contrast to the dark shadows under her eyes, and her frail frame trembled with each labored breath. To my astonishment, the same [0/∞] data appeared. My confusion only grew. What the hell was going on?
There was no time to ponder—the girl's condition was dire.
Quickly, I focused on the task at hand, chanting a healing spell.
"Vin's lina, vinar kin, fin lina naru! (Heal and restore!)."
A warm light enveloped her; however, the healing spell did not work. I pondered why and what kind of illness she had that a healing spell could not cure.
Andre watched with a mixture of hope and despair, his eyes wide with fear for his sister. "Why isn't it working?" he whispered, his voice breaking.
"We'll find a way," I assured him, though uncertainty gnawed at me. "We'll make sure she that she will fully recovered."
Let's see, what spell can I use to heal her? I thought, searching my mind for another healing spell. Let's try this one, "
A vin kin viro, sol ulir es skir, Lina i keir, mar nalir. Srits de lina, krais naru, Fin avirs, kora laru. Vinar! (Cure!)"
Another warm light enveloped her, and her breathing had finally began to steady. Color returned to her cheeks; the red spot that is on her skin is disappearing. It's working!
Andre watched in awe, hope and gratitude shining in his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.
"She's going to be okay now. We'll make sure she gets everything she needs," I assured him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
Andre looked up, hope glimmering in his eyes. "Thank you, Mister."
'Arg, Mister? I'm still seventeen though," I mused.
"You're welcome." I paused for a moment before gently asking, "Andre, where are your parents? Why are you and your sister alone?"
Andre hesitated, then answered truthfully. "My mom... she died from the same illness my sister has. My dad went to find help."
I nodded, absorbing the gravity of his situation. "I see... We'll wait for your father. Don't worry; we'll help you."
"Thank you, Mister... thank you," Andre replied, tears streaming down his face.
'I need to see if this trait runs in their family,' I thought.
As we settled in, the hours passed slowly. Andre stayed close to his sister, eyes now filled with hope. Finally, as the sun set, footsteps approached the shack.
Andre's father entered, his expression weary from loss. His eyes widened in shock at the sight of strangers. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice trembling with fear and anger.
"We're here to help," I said calmly. "Please, let us explain."
Adjusting my glasses, I looked at Andre's father. Again, the 0/∞ data appeared. My confusion only deepened. How is this possible?
"We've been helping your son and daughter," I continued. "Your daughter is resting, and her condition is improving."
Relief flooded Andre's father's face as he saw his daughter resting peacefully. "Thank you," he whispered, voice choked with emotion.
"Don't mention it. I just have a few questions, if that's alright."
Andre's father nodded slowly. "If you can help my children, I'll answer whatever you ask."
"Good. I have many questions that I would like to ask, but for now, let's focus on her recovery."
As night fell, my mind swirled with questions. The infinite symbol, the family's potential—I needed some answers.
We sat on the floor in silence, monitoring his daughter's condition. Galen remained seated nearby, waiting for my command. His unusual composure masked any thoughts he might have had. The stillness was almost oppressive, the weight of unspoken questions hanging heavily in the air.
To be honest, I didn't know where to start. I couldn't just bluntly ask why their mana potential showed [0/∞].
It was too strange, too personal. After what felt like an eternity, I decided to break the silence.
"Are you originally from here?" I asked, my voice gentle but probing.
"Yes, we've been living here in the slum ever since," he said, his expression full of struggles. "We don't have a choice. We don't have anywhere else to go."
"I see... I'm sorry. Uhmm, I forgot to introduce ourselves. I'm Draven, and this right here is Galen."
He nodded. "Hi, I'm Renaud. Nice to meet you."
"How did your daughter get sick?" I asked gently, trying to tread carefully.
He turned his gaze toward his daughter, still unconscious on the floor. "It started with their mother," he began, his voice heavy with sorrow. "We don't know what they caught. It began with a fever, followed by red spots on her body. The next day, she fell unconscious and never woke up... until she passed away." His voice cracked, and tears welled in his eyes, trickling down his weathered face.
He paused, his breath hitching as he struggled to compose himself. "The day after their mother died... my daughter fell ill. The same symptoms. I thought I was going to lose her too." His voice broke with raw emotion, the pain of his losses etched deeply into his features.
"I'm so sorry for your loss," I said, my voice heavy with empathy. "I understand how hard it is to lose someone dear to you. I recently lost my parents to the war."
The room fell into a heavy silence after my words. Renaud's shoulders trembled slightly, weighed down by the shared grief between us. It was a moment of raw, unspoken understanding—a bond forged in loss and suffering.
Finally, I decided to tell him the truth. "The reason why we are here is because of this." I took off the glasses and showed them to him. "These glasses have the ability to measure a person's mana potential. When we helped your son earlier, I was intrigued as to why his reading showed zero mana and an infinite mana potential. Zero means he has no mana within him but he has infinite mana potential." I paused, looking into his eyes to gauge his reaction.
Renaud stared at the glasses, then back at me, his expression a mix of confusion and realization. The room seemed to grow even more silent, the weight of the revelation hanging in the air.
"Zero and... infinite?" Renaud repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. "What does that even mean? I don't understand."
"I understand that it sounds confusing, and I would probably be just as bewildered if I were in your shoes. However, to make it easier for you to grasp, your son has limitless potential in terms of mana capacity. But what truly astounds me is that this isn't just unique to your son—your daughter and even you have this extraordinary trait as well."
I paused, letting the gravity of my words sink in. Renaud's eyes widened, a mixture of shock and disbelief washing over his face. The room seemed to pulse with the weight of this revelation, the air thick with unspoken questions.
"But why? How? We don't even know how to use magic," Renaud's voice trembled, a desperate plea for understanding.
"I don't know yet," I admitted, my own uncertainty mirrored in his eyes. "Wait..." and then it hit me.
No way! It can't be...