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The sun had risen high, casting golden rays into the large chamber where I lay. It has been another peaceful day, much like the days before it, but something about today felt different. The air was still, not even the slightest breeze disturbed the thick curtains that lined the windows. I could hear the faint sound of footsteps from beyond the door, servants tending to their duties, life continuing around me as it always did.
It was a familiar, comforting rhythm. But today, the day I turned almost a year old, something stirred deep within me. I felt more awake, more aware of the world around me, like the fog that had clouded my mind for the past several months was finally lifting. It was a weird feeling but it didn't feel like it was something bad but something that was supposed to happen eventually.
As always, I found myself staring up at the high ceiling of the chamber, its intricate designs stretching above me. It wasn't just any ceiling—it was a masterpiece, adorned with vibrant paintings of celestial beings, mythical creatures, and legendary heroes. The beauty of it was unmatched by anything I had seen before, even in books. The colors and brushstrokes were so vivid that I could almost feel the stories they depicted. How could such art be created in a world like Xylaris? I almost felt they had advanced printing tech or maybe magic, perhaps they learned of ways to use it beyond just its primitive forms that are usually depicted in various fantasy shows.
I shifted slightly in my crib, noticing the small details of the room more clearly now—tapestries that depicted the history of this land, ornate wooden furniture, a large mirror reflecting my tiny form. But it wasn't just the grandeur of my surroundings that caught my attention today. I was beginning to feel a different kind of awareness. The magic in the air, that subtle hum of energy that had been present since my birth, was no longer just a feeling. It was something I could sense and almost touch. It surrounded everything, from the flicker of the candlelight to the rustle of the curtains in the windless air. I learned from a book that briefly mentioned magic, I learned that magic, or more precisely the laws and concepts that govern magic, which is universally known as mana, exists naturally. It exists in all dimensions, even the fourth dimension where it was previously thought that only time and space existed. If existence itself was a machine, mana would be its fuel or energy source. So this leads me to believe perhaps my previous world also had it but we could never access it—maybe there are some prerequisites that I currently don't know.
As my gaze wandered, I noticed a book nearby, just within reach. It was an old tome. It's something I recently acquired after much hard work and begging to my mother. Its leather cover cracked and worn with age. I crawled toward it. My tiny hands grasped the edge of the book, and with a bit of effort, I managed to open it. It was the tome that my mother used when she was 7 years old. It contains knowledge of the Arcane.
I flipped through the pages with eager determination, my eyes widening as I read the words aloud. They were strange at first—magical symbols and ancient runes—I had no idea, at least not yet, but I thought reading or even memorizing them wouldn't be bad. My mother told me this book contains the basic Arcane principles of magic, on how it can be utilized and what it can achieve. It's for noobs basically and it doesn't have everything. I also think it's good enough for its purpose.
As I traced the runes with my fingers, a warmth spread through me, and for the first time, I felt the pull of magic within my very bones. It was a deep, resonant feeling—like the earth itself was calling to me, urging me to listen, to learn. It felt weird, very alien, and even I felt a bit convoluted, but with some time, I got used to the weirdness. I can't let something like this deter me. I mean, this world has something that every ordinary person from my previous world always wished to learn, and I will try my damndest to be good at this Arcane stuff, even if I am not talented.
The door to the room creaked open, and my mother entered. She was as graceful as ever, her golden hair cascading down her back, her eyes sparkling with warmth and love. But today, there was something different in her expression—a subtle sense of pride, as if she could sense the change in me, too. She was happy. I mean, what mother wouldn't be, I guess.
She smiled warmly as she approached, her gaze softening as she looked down at me. "Arax," she said, her voice gentle but firm, "I see you're getting into mischief already." I must say, my mother definitely knew how to get a conversation going, and I hardly doubt anyone can ever win any debates against her. Perhaps not even my previous mom might not be able to do it.
I could feel her eyes on me, watching me closely. She knew. She had always known. Her intuition, her deep connection to me, was something that I could never hide from. And for a moment, I felt a twinge of guilt—though not for the magic that I was beginning to understand, but for the fact that I had not told her what I had learned. Yet, there was no need for words. She could sense the shift in the air, the quiet hum of power surrounding me.
"I see you found the old book," she said, her voice soft and knowing. "That tome is special. It's one of the first things I ever studied when I was 7 years of age. I was hailed as a Magical Prodigy, you know?"
I looked up at her, my curiosity burning. "You studied magic, too?" I mean, considering I've never seen her use it in reality, I didn't know.
She laughed softly, a sound like the tinkling of bells. "Yes, darling. Magic is a part of this world—of Xylaris—and it has always been a part of me. But it's not something you learn all at once. It takes time, patience, and above all, understanding."
She knelt down beside me, her fingers gently brushing the book from my hands. "Magic is not something to be taken lightly," she continued. "It is a gift, but also a responsibility. And you, Arax... you have the potential to be something greater than even I can imagine." Well, that's something all mothers hold out for, good hopes for their children.
I wanted to ask her more, to learn everything there was to know about this power that flowed through the world. The world around me seemed to fade as I focused entirely on her, on the love and wisdom in her eyes.
She smiled at me, her gaze full of warmth. "You don't need to say anything right now, Arax. I know what you're feeling. In time, you will learn to harness the magic that runs through your veins. But for now... just be a child. Enjoy these precious moments, for they are fleeting." Damn woman, it wouldn't be hard to just tell me a little, but I guess I'll listen.
As my mother stood and turned to leave, I couldn't help but feel a sense of peace settle over me. I could feel the magic around me, it felt like it was there and not there. It was basically a hassle to constantly feel it spreading everywhere, not particularly focused anywhere.
But for now, I would listen to my mother's advice. I would be patient. I would enjoy the simple moments—like this one—before the weight of responsibility came crashing down upon me. Though I doubt it would be that hard, just hope that I don't jinx myself.
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