A New Routine

Over the next few days, Ryfel's routine had changed. He used to be in the house all the time with Milal taking care of him while Ryker does his daily district work and Elda tends their House farmland.

Now, after his own morning routine, Elda takes charge of education for the morning, Milal teaches magic for house chores and cooking in the afternoon, and Ryker comes home to teach history and magic for farming. On the weekends, instead of play and fun, Ryker takes Ryfel throughout the district to familiarize himself with the locals and area.

Ryfel, now five years old, sat in the center of the room, his small hands resting on his lap. He took a slow breath, letting mana flow naturally through his body, just enough to make it seem like instinct rather than calculation.

"Time to take this next step carefully…"

He placed a palm against the wooden floor and focused.

A low hum vibrated through the ground.

The earth stirred.

Slowly, the floor shifted and molded, forming a miniature replica of Minas-Col—a detailed landscape, carefully crafted with natural elements.

As the land took shape, Ryfel reached out, guiding water into the structure, letting it flow into small rivers and pools.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, controlling the refraction of light through the water, turning the streams into vibrant colors—

Green for the Outer Court,
Blue for the Inner Court,
And a faint red shimmer at the centre—symbolizing the King’s Court.

Finally, with a gentle push of air, he let warm steam rise, creating a misty fog over the city.

Ryfel leaned back, satisfied.

Ryfel:
"Kingdom... Minas-Col."

The room once again fell silent.

Elda’s eyes widened in disbelief.

Milal covered her mouth, staring in shock.

Ryker… blinked twice, then let out a breathless chuckle, eyes still locked on the display before him.

Ryker:
"…That’s not normal."

Elda finally snapped out of her daze, her voice half whisper, half stunned exclamation.

Elda:
"That’s… incredible."

Ryfel tilted his head slightly, pretending not to understand their amazement.

Ryfel:
"Did I do it wrong?"

Elda shook her head immediately.

Elda:
"No, no, my love—you did it perfectly! But… but children your age—even talented ones—can barely form basic shapes, let alone control multiple elements at once!"

Milal, still frozen in shock, slowly approached.

Milal:
"Young Master… do you… feel tired?"

Ryfel thought carefully.

If he answered too confidently, they would be too suspicious.

If he acted too exhausted, they might think something was wrong.

He let out a small, deliberate exhale, rubbing the back of his head.

Ryfel:
"A little bit… but it was fun!"

Ryker let out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief.

Ryker:
"Hah! The boy doesn’t even realize how insane this is!"

He turned toward Elda.

Ryker:
"This isn’t just talent, Elda. He’s doing things that mages twice his age struggle with. I’ve seen grown men take years just to control two elements properly, and he’s sitting here like it’s just another day!"

Elda placed a hand over her chest, trying to steady her thoughts.

Elda:
"I knew he was special… but this?"

She turned to Ryfel, her expression soft yet serious.

Later in the evening, Ryker clapped his hands together, grinning.

Ryker:
"Alright then! Let’s put that little mind of yours to the test!"

Milal rushed into the next room, quickly returning with a small wooden tray filled with assorted stones.

She set it in front of Ryfel, giving him a quick thumbs-up.

Milal:
"This is a standard test, Young Master. Every noble child is given a set of raw stones to see how well they can manipulate earth magic."

She gestured toward the stones.

Milal:
"You only need to mold one for now."

Ryfel glanced at the tray.

Granite. Basalt. Sandstone. Marble.

He could shape all of them easily—but showing that would be too much.

Ryfel (Thinking):
"Control your pace, Ryfel. Show them just enough."

He reached forward and picked up the granite.

The room fell silent as he cupped the stone in both hands.

A moment of pause.

Then, the granite began to shift.

Slowly, Ryfel shaped it into a small, smooth cup.

The room held its breath.

Ryfel:
"That should be enough."

But just as he was about to place it down, something inside him stirred.

A faint whisper of mana.

His fingers twitched—

And before he realized it, the water in his previous miniature morning model rose from the structure, flowing toward the cup and settling inside, filling it to the brim.

The moment it happened, Ryfel froze.

Ryfel (thought):
"Shit. I didn’t mean to do that."

The room exploded.

Elda gasped, nearly dropping her tea.

Ryker slammed his hands on the table.

Milal’s tray actually slipped from her fingers.

Ryker:
"Did you see that?! He didn’t just shape the granite—he instinctively pulled the water into it! That—That’s a level of control you can’t just teach!"

Elda, still staring, looked at Ryfel with both pride and concern.

Elda:
"This… this confirms it. We have to be careful, Ryker. We can’t just throw him into training like any other child."

Ryker paused, nodding slowly.

Ryker:
"You’re right. If we don’t guide this properly, he’ll either become unstoppable… or he’ll burn himself out before he even reaches his prime."

Milal, still in shock, suddenly spoke.

Milal:
"Young Master… do you even know how you did that?"

Ryfel, still recovering from his slip-up, quickly shook his head.

Ryfel:
"Uh… no? I just… thought it would be nice if the cup had water in it."

Silence.

Then, Ryker let out a deep, proud laugh.

Ryker:
"AHAHAH! Gods, this kid is gonna change the world and he doesn’t even know it!"

Elda sighed, rubbing her temples.

Elda:
"At this rate, I wouldn’t be surprised if he learns more advanced magic on instinct alone…"

However, Ryker beamed, his excitement barely contained.

Ryker:
"Don’t forget, though, it isn’t just about magic and intelligence. He has to prove himself in so many other areas! Contributions, leadership, inventions—"*

He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a short laugh.

Ryker:
"Hah! I really don’t think we should push it too much. These past few days have been quite tiring for us too."

Elda nodded, her voice softer.

Elda:
"That’s what worries me, Ry. He’s growing so fast… If we push him too hard, we might put expectations on him that no child should bear."

Their conversation faded into the background as Ryfel, sitting quietly, observed them both.

His mother’s cautious love.
His father’s unstoppable ambition.

He understood them both.

But this—this was his moment.

A small smile played at his lips as he glanced down at the assorted stones on the table.

Ryfel (thinking):
"Then let me show them something they can’t ignore."

The First Creation

Without hesitation, Ryfel reached forward, his small fingers grazing over the stones.

He took a deep breath—

And moved.

The granite shifted first, molding into a small, hollow container in his palm.

Then, with a flick of his fingers, he heated the bottom with fire magic, just enough to boil a few drops of water.

The steam rose instantly.

But he wasn’t done.

He guided the steam upward, letting it whirl and dance with the air currents, shaping it into a controlled spiral.

Next—light.

Ryfel adjusted the refraction of light through the mist, bending and scattering it in all directions.

The soft hues of red, blue, and green blended, painting the air in an iridescent glow.

A delicate, shimmering aurora formed above them, dancing against the ceiling.

A silence descended upon the room.

Both Ryker and Elda stopped mid-conversation.

Their words vanished into nothing.

The room’s entire lighting had changed.

A soft, twilight glow bathed everything in mystical, shifting colors.

They turned their heads upward, jaws dropping at the sight before them.

And then—

They looked down.

At Ryfel.

Their five-year-old son, hands moving gracefully, eyes slightly glazed from focus.

He was controlling it all—the steam, the air, the light.

Casually.

Effortlessly.

Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Ryker and Elda collapsed onto the sofa simultaneously, utterly stunned.

Ryker:
"Elda… tell me I’m not dreaming."

Elda:
"I… I don’t think I’ve ever seen something like this before."

They both looked at each other, then back at Ryfel.

Elda slowly exhaled, nodding.

Elda:
"Okay… I won’t doubt you ever again."

Ryker, still staring at the aurora, muttered in awe.

Ryker:
"Yeah, I don’t think I’ll doubt myself ever again either."

A sudden wet splat broke the silence.

They turned their heads toward Milal, who had been snacking in the background.

Her mouth hung open, a half-chewed piece of bread plopped onto the floor from sheer shock.

Ryfel, still half-dazed from mana use, turned to them with a small, sleepy smile.

Ryfel:
"Auro… Aurora Lights. You seen before?"

His voice was soft, curious.

His entire family shook their heads in unison.

Ryfel grinned.

Ryfel:
"I used all the elements… t- to make dancing lights for you!"

His body swayed slightly, exhaustion finally catching up from moving so much mana in one sitting.

His eyes fluttered shut.

And just as he began to tip sideways, Elda rushed forward, catching him before he plopped onto the floor.

She held him close, brushing his hair gently.

Elda (whispering):
"You, my son… are truly something else."

Ryfel, barely awake, curled into her warmth and let sleep take him.

All Aboard

Elda gently laid a sleeping Ryfel into his crib. His small chest rose and fell in steady breaths, exhaustion overtaking his tiny body after an eventful day.

She brushed a few stray strands of his dark hair with golden-streaked tuft aside and pressed a delicate kiss onto his forehead.

Elda (whispering):
"Sleep well, my little miracle."

She lingered for a moment, simply watching him—this child who had changed everything.

Then, with quiet steps, she made her way back to their bedroom, where Ryker was already sprawled across the bed, arms behind his head, eyes half-lidded in contemplation.

As soon as she slipped under the covers, she sighed, rolling toward him.

Elda:
"Okay, Ry… I have something to say."

He turned his head, raising a brow.

Ryker:
"Hmm?"

She hesitated for a moment, then let out another sigh.

Elda:
"It's been six weeks only. Only six weeks of a drastic change in schedule—late nights, early mornings, pouring everything into training Ryfel. I just… I want to say I’m sorry if I ever seemed like I was doubting you. Or him."

Her voice softened.

Elda:
"I just wanted to make sure we weren’t pushing him too hard."

Ryker chuckled, shifting onto his side to face her, his gaze warm and unwavering.

Ryker:
"Oh, my El-dear, I never thought that at all."

He reached over, brushing his fingers lightly against her cheek.

Ryker:
"You were always the one keeping my feet on the ground. Your caution, your care—that's what makes us strong. I never assumed you were doubting me… or our son. You’ve only ever protected us."

She bit her lip, her fingers curling slightly into the sheets.

Elda:
"Really? I always thought you didn’t like me getting in the way of your excitement and plans."

Ryker laughed, a deep, warm sound, before reaching out to pull her into his chest, pressing a firm kiss onto her forehead.

Ryker:
"My love, you are the perspective I need. The piece of reality that keeps me from getting too reckless. And yet, even I didn’t think Little Ry could create something like that today."

She hummed against him, resting her head against his chest, listening to the rhythmic thrum of his heartbeat.

Elda:
"So… you forgive me?"

Ryker:
"Forgive you? I never even thought you were wrong."

She lifted her head slightly, tilting her gaze up at him, her deep blue eyes glimmering under the soft candlelight.

A slow smirk formed on her lips.

Elda:
"You know… it's the first time in a long time since we ended the day this early."

Ryker raised a brow, recognizing the shift in her tone.

Ryker:

"Mmm?"

He sprawled in a sturdy wooden chair by the hearth, legs stretched out, tunic loose and rumpled from the day. Firelight flickered over his broad shoulders, casting a warm glow across the stone walls. Elda edged closer, her breath soft and warm against his ear, fingers trembling as they brushed his thigh—tentative, slow, barely grazing his breeches.

Elda (whispering, shyly):

"I. Hope. You. Know. What. I’m. Talking. About."