—It's tomorrow. Tomorrow! Hehe! Finally, it's tomorrow!

Urie Loeth, third son of the Loeth House, couldn't wait. A cold sensation wrapped around his fingertips as he traced them along the water’s surface. Resting his head on his left arm, a giddy smile peeked from beneath his sleeve.

A passerby called out, “Good day, little commander! Out for a stroll, are we? Excited for tomorrow?”

Kneeling comfortably by the large fountain, Urie put a finger to his lips and grinned. “Shh! I snuck out.”

The passerby eyed his loose dark suit, a striking choice in the daylight. With a knowing smile, the man hunched down and whispered, “I see. Then I won’t keep you. Look forward to tomorrow’s Harvest Festival, little commander!”

With that, he departed. Urie stood, clenching his right hand in front of him. Before stepping away from the city square, he stole a glance at Erden’s Tower, his eyes brimming with determination.

—The Harvest Festival... I'll finally be able to use magic! Although...

“Will I be able to use magic..?” His smile faltered as he whispered, a sliver of anxiety creeping in.

He recalled a conversation with his mother.

“Mother, how is it that Father and my older brothers were all chosen by Undine?”

“Ah, because they’re all handsome!” she had replied quickly, flashing two thumbs up.

“Then, do you think she will choose me too?”

His mother winced. The hesitation in her eyes struck him. Why couldn’t she answer right away?

No, no—it wasn’t that he was unattractive. He had inherited his mother’s beauty. It was something else. When she brushed off the topic, he turned to his second older brother instead.

“Big brother, how is it that Father, you, and Eldest Brother were all chosen by Undine?”

“Because—Ah! We all didn’t cry when we were born!” his brother stammered.

Urie sighed. Was that really it? He recalled his mother once mentioning how happy she was that he had cried loudly at birth. Did Undine only choose children who didn’t cry?

—Never mind. I shouldn’t dwell on this now.

The city bustled with laughter and chatter. The Harvest Festival was tomorrow, and excitement filled the air. Urie buried his anxiety, dashed through the busy streets, and let his feet guide him.

The familiar paths looked different today—his own hurried steps were lost amidst the festival preparations. The usual scent of horses and carriages was masked by the fragrance of fresh flowers.

With clear, icy-blue eyes, Urie took in the scene. People spotted him running—a lively young boy with ashen-grey hair, a tuft of it curiously pointing upwards.

They also recognized his outfit. It was what he always wore when sneaking out. Or rather, what his mother had tricked him into wearing so the maid secretly tailing him wouldn’t lose sight.

He darted past vendors and weaving crowds until—

“Ah! Sorr—”

He collided with someone his size and tumbled onto the pavement.

“Ya! You! Watch where you’re going—ya!”

“Wah—” Urie gasped, surprised that while he had stumbled, the girl stood firm. Chestnut-amber eyes glared at him before her bob-cut black hair disappeared into the crowd.

“I didn’t get to apologize...” Urie dusted off his pants. Right. He had to watch for other children too.

As he wandered, a wooden statuette at a nearby stall caught his eye. A ferocious winged beast, intricately carved.

“Oh, little commander! Interested in some carvings?” the shopkeeper asked.

“I’m curious! What kind of magical creature is this? A mana beast?”

The carving mimicked the statue at the fountain where he had rested earlier—sharp fangs, claws, a long tail, and, aside from its domineering wings, the look of an enormous lizard.

“Ho ho. That’s no mana beast, little commander. But as for what it is—I couldn’t tell you.”

The glimmer in Urie’s eyes dulled. He had asked many people about the statue, but no one seemed to know. He itched to uncover the truth.

—An itch I have to scratch! Will Father know? I never had the chance to ask him.

The longer it eluded him, the stronger his curiosity grew.

“Hmm, how about these other carvings, little commander? Do they interest you?”

Urie glanced at the shopkeeper’s other wares. “The spirits?” he asked, raising a brow.

“Not just any! This is the spirit presiding over this year’s festival!” The shopkeeper spoke with exaggerated enthusiasm.

“Undine?” Urie inspected the statuette.

Only a few had ever seen the greater spirits up close. The carving, however... it felt too...

—Bland...

The details were too sparse. It looked more like a clothing shop mannequin than a grand representation of an elemental spirit.

“I’ll come back with Mother another time! Thanks, shopkeep!” Urie waved and moved on.

Not long after, a winded young maid in a black dress, white apron, and hairband approached the stall.

“Good day, little commander’s shadow! Working hard, eh? Ho ho,” the shopkeeper chuckled.

“Good day to you, sir.” She caught her breath and pulled out a purse. “Did the young master take interest in anything?”

The shopkeeper eyed the bags she already carried and smirked. “When you ask like that, young miss, it’d be easy to take advantage of you, y’know?”

… An hour later, at the Loeth residence, Urie met a very exhausted maid.

“Ah! Patty, you look tired. Where’ve you been?”

His gaze drifted to the numerous bags she carried. Groceries? He took some paper bags to help her inside. But when he peeked inside, he was surprised—almost half of the items were things he had merely glanced at during his stroll.

That evening, he dined with his mother before drifting into deep sleep. The moon arched high above, ushering in the dawn. And when morning arrived, Urie Loeth awoke, brimming with exhilaration.

“Today! Haha! Today’s the day!” he cheered from his bed.

Today was the day ten-year-old children awakened to magic.

The day of Daerin’s Harvest Festival.