The library felt enormous.
Bookshelves loomed above me like towering mountains, the rows of spines forming jagged cliffs of leather and cloth. The air smelled of wood polish, old paper, and something faintly floral. It was quiet here, the kind of quiet that made me feel small but not in a bad way. Small like a speck, but safe within something vast.
Elise sat nearby, sitting gracefully on a sofa with a leather-bound book in her lap. The soft rustle of pages filled the stillness as she read, her long fingers moving delicately over the edges of the parchment. Her calm presence enveloped the space, almost as much a part of the library as the towering bookshelves.
She glanced up occasionally, her soft emerald eyes flicking toward Aron and me to ensure we weren't getting into trouble. Aron, of course, was sprawled out on the floor with one of his picture books, waving it in the air like a sword, his noisy "battle" echoing faintly. I could feel her attention linger on me for a second longer before she returned to her book, a small smile tugging at her lips.
Aron was nearby, sprawled out on the floor with one of his picture books. He was pretending a knight from the page was fighting a dragon, complete with dramatic sound effects. I glanced at him briefly but stayed where I was, my fingers brushing the bottom shelf of books.
To him, this library was just another place to play. To me, it was something else entirely.
I had spent two years in this small, clumsy body, trying to adjust to the endless frustration of being trapped in a world that saw me as a baby. My parents had no idea who I really was. No one did. Some days, it felt like I didn't exist at all. But this place, this library felt different.
I tugged one of the heavier books free, grunting a little as it slid off the shelf. The thin layer of dust on the cover made me sneeze, sending a ripple of laughter from Aron.
"Bless you!" he chimed, not looking up from his battle.
The book rested heavily in my lap, its weight surprisingly satisfying. I traced the raised letters on the cover:
The Foundations of Bloodlines, Mana and Souls.
I opened the book carefully, the thick pages making soft whumph sounds as I turned them. My small hands struggled to hold them properly, but I managed.
"All magic is born of the soul," I whispered softly, repeating the first line in my head.
The soul. I'd heard that word many times in my past life, but here, it carried a different weight. The diagrams showed how mana flowed from the world, pulled into the soul like rivers into a reservoir. A strong soul could hold more, channel more, do more. A weak soul cracked under the pressure.
I stared at the next page, my small fingers tracing the lines of mana flowing into a diagram of a human figure. Text surrounded the image, dense and precise, but I didn't need to read it all. I already understood.
The strength of your soul determines everything.
I frowned slightly, my head tilting. If I had been reborn here, then what tier did my soul belong to? Based on what I had seen of my surroundings our luxurious home, the servants, and the importance my parents seemed to carry. I could only assume my family was powerful. That made the possibilities for my own soul even more interesting.
Was I a Resonant Soul? Or something greater? My thoughts wandered as I imagined the layers of potential hidden within this body of mine.
"Aliiiii!" Aron waved his picture book in the air. "Look! This knight is fighting a dragon!"
I glanced up at him, his excitement infectious despite my focus. "Mhm," I hummed, smiling faintly.
But Aron's world of dragons felt far away compared to the book in my lap. I was too caught up in the next diagram, which showed something called bloodlines.
The word made my chest tighten, though I didn't know why. The book described them as inherited traits that determined the strength, affinity, and potential of your soul. They were passed down through generations, tying magic to family legacies.
"Bloodlines are noble," I whispered quietly, the words forming on their own in my head. "But they're not absolute."
The diagrams illustrated how mana flowed differently in individuals with strong bloodlines, their souls acting like larger reservoirs. But the text also hinted at exceptions: weaker bloodlines producing incredible souls. Outliers, it called them.
I leaned against the table, kicking my legs as I let the thought settle. Bloodlines mattered, sure, but they weren't everything. Talent and will could still rise from unexpected places.
"Ali, are you even listening?" Aron huffed, crawling closer. He was holding up his book like a shield. "Be the dragon!"
I laughed softly, closing the book for now. Its weight lingered in my hands, and I knew I'd come back to it soon. But Aron was impatient, his face scrunched in a way that was hard to ignore.
"Okay," I said, sliding off the chair to sit beside him. "But I'm moon dragon."
"Moon dragons are boring!" He roared and hit me lightly with his book.
"Moon dragons aren't boring," I muttered under my breath, glancing back at the heavy tome for just a moment. The diagrams flashed in my mind again. Souls, mana, bloodlines.
But then another section of the book came to mind, something I'd skimmed over earlier: Power Ranks. The explanation was blurry, but I remembered enough to understand the basics.
Power Ranks weren't about potential they measured progress. They were a way to track how well a mage used their soul's abilities. The ranks were like a staircase, climbing higher with training and experience.
The first four were clear: Novice, Adept, Specialist, and Master. Those names alone painted an obvious picture of progression. But there were two more ranks, Grandmaster and Apex, that the book barely mentioned. The descriptions were vague and incomplete, almost as if someone had deliberately left them unfinished.
"Why would they stop there?" I wondered aloud. What did those highest ranks mean?
---
For a moment, I let the weight of the book settle in my mind. Its words echoed through me like pieces of a puzzle I didn't know how to solve. Bloodlines. Soul tiers. Power ranks. What did all of this mean for someone like me? Someone who didn't even know their place yet?
I glanced at Aron. He was still lost in his world of knights and dragons, carefree and content. I envied him in that moment.
"What about me?" I murmured. "Where do I fit?"
The thought lingered as I closed the book and set it aside. Whatever answers lay within, they weren't for today.
"Come on," Aron said, waving his picture book. "Be the dragon!"
I smiled and sat beside him on the floor. "Okay, but I'm still a moon dragon."
"Moon dragons are boring!" he said again, laughing louder this time.
I laughed too, brushing the thoughts of bloodlines, soul tiers, and power ranks into the back of my mind. For now, I'm a moon dragon. Other things could wait.