Chapter 4 - Echoes of a Year - Part 2: Core

As the trips to the healer Yana's house became routine.

Every other day, Lia would tie Lian to the cloth, call Lyra with a shout, and almost always pull Lilia by the wrist before she invented extra chores to delay leaving.

The scenery didn't change; what changed, visit after visit, was Lian's mind.

He had already understood, from the adults' whispered conversations that assumed children don't listen, that the main reason for the consultations was Lyra's mana core.

The same Lyra who ran around the house like a miniature storm couldn't make mana go in and out of her core properly, as if the door inside was jammed.

"Of all people, her, the most electric in the house, can barely spark a flicker."

Yana touched the girl and repeated old, harsh words that Lian still couldn't decipher. And he watched, because there was a different kind of magic there.

The old woman's mana didn't explode into an element. It pushed, pulled, aligned the flow inside Lyra's body. It was repair, not spectacle. Like someone untying a knot with blunt patience.

"Healing doesn't create from nothing. It forces what already exists to remember how it works."

When Lia got distracted by the consultation, Lian took advantage of the books on the shelf.

The writing was a chaos of curved lines and symbols that belonged to no alphabet on Earth.

Even so, they were no longer completely alien. Certain words appeared so often they became patterns in his head: "aqua", "terra", "lux". And the drawings helped more than any sentence.

Circular diagrams. Lines linking symbols like roads. Simple numbers along the edge: 0, 1, 2… And, in the corner of several pages, the same mark:

"Level 0".

"Hmm… this looks like the world's tutorial."

It was in one of those books that he found the strange symbol: an almost complete circle covered by small strokes pointing inward, as if everything there wanted to fall into a hungry center.

On the page, a man surrounded by flames that weren't clean. They were dense, liquid, gnawing from within. In the next image, only bones. And even the bones began to be swallowed.

A skull crossed out by a giant X.

"If there's light, there's the other side. And from the drawing, the other side doesn't look inviting at all."

There was nothing else about it. Not in another book. Not in another margin.

It was strange. Not like "no one knows." But like "no one wants to write it."

"Alright. I found the system's manual… and I'm still standing outside it. So it'll be letter by letter, the hard way."

He closed the book with exaggerated care and tried to put it back in its place. So focused on not damaging anything that he didn't even notice Yana's gaze settling on him.

– I didn't know I'd gained such a curious little helper – the old woman commented, without taking her focus off Lyra. An almost invisible smile tugged at one corner of her mouth. – Looks like the little one is quite entertained with my books. What a nosy little lad.

Lian turned his face too fast, caught red-handed, and almost toppled over sitting when his body remembered balance still wasn't his strong suit.

Lia frowned on the spot.

– Chris, come here right now! – she called, taking two steps. – Stop messing with Mrs. Yana's things. I already told you not to touch what isn't yours!

Her tone didn't have anger. It had fear of debt.

Swallowing childish annoyance and adult pride together, he crawled back.

Yana ended the flow in Lyra with a simple wave.

— It's alright, Lia. At that age they're curious little pests anyway. And your little boy has grown quite a bit.

Lia hesitated, running her fingers through Lian's hair as if the answer only a mother believes exists might be hidden there.

She took a deep breath.

— By the way, Yana… I wanted you to take a look at Chris for me.

Yana raised an eyebrow.

— Any problem? Has he been sick?

— No. — Lia shook her head quickly. — It's just that… kids start showing signs of affinity early, right? Even if they don't cast spells yet. Lyra… you know. And Lilia…

She paused for a second, choosing her words like someone stepping on glass.

— Lilia helps with everything here at home, but she never had a chance to learn properly. Academy is for people with money… with a name. We have neither. And even if we did, we can't just abandon the garden, the house, the work. Commoners are treated with contempt, you know that better than anyone, Yana. I just… wanted to know if he'll at least have a normal life.

Her eyes sank into that old hole.

— Do you think he'll be able to use mana?

The question fell raw. Lian didn't understand everything, but he understood the pain on her face.

"She's afraid I'll be born crooked too."

Yana watched Lian for a longer instant.

— Bring him here.

Lia turned Lian toward the healer. Wrinkled hands wrapped around his.

— Inspectio Manae…

The old woman's eyes took on a thin glow. And Lian felt something cold slide through his chest, like a gaze entering through a path that didn't need skin.

It didn't hurt, but it made one thing clear: someone had opened the door without knocking.

He stayed still, with the most baby-like expression he could manage.

The silence grew.

The glow in Yana's eyes wavered. Then returned steadier, like someone deciding to poke deeper.

She said another long sentence, full of hard consonants. Lian didn't catch the meaning, but he caught the change in the air: surprise.

— Is this boy really one year old, Lia?

— He is. He just turned one not long ago. Why? Is something wrong?

Yana didn't answer right away.

Her "gaze" went in once more… and slid over a smooth void.

It wasn't a lack of mana. It was a space too quiet at the center of his core, like a dark room in the middle of a lit house.

The reading couldn't latch on. And by instinct, Lian's core closed a little more, like someone turning their face away when they feel a stranger getting close.

Yana stiffened. Tried again, slower. Same. The flow touched that hollow place and came back broken.

She let go of his hands. The glow vanished.

Lia went rigid.

— So, Yana?

The old woman blinked, coming out of her own silence.

— No. He's healthy. And the core is functioning normally. Only… strangely, it isn't a normal core for his age.

Lia froze.

— What do you mean?

Yana picked up a small crystal and rolled it between her fingers, as if that organized the explanation.

— A core in a child this age still isn't awakened. Level zero. It exists, but it doesn't respond. — she tapped her own chest. — This brat's has already woken up. Level one.

Lian recognized the word "level." And the way Lia held her breath said that was good.

— Is that rare? — Lyra asked, hope on her face.

— Yes, even more so at his age. — Yana answered dryly. — That jump usually comes around eight, ten years old. His woke up far too early. I've never seen anything like it in my entire life. I've heard rumors of strong blood awakening early… but not this early.

She set the crystal down on the table.

— After level comes color. Color measures how much the core can handle and how purified it is. — she counted on her fingers with no teacher's patience. — Gray, red, orange, yellow, green, blue, silver, white, gold. Each change affects a mage's control and destructive power.

She paused.

— And each color has three stages: dark when the mana is dirty and unstable; stable when it gains body; luminous when it flows clean.

She pointed at the boy.

— His core is in dark gray, almost stable gray. For his age, that's abnormal.

Lia listened with her mouth slightly open, as if that ladder were a fate she'd never imagined touching.

— But this won't cause any complications in his growth, right? — she asked, fearing the answer.

— No. — Yana said bluntly. — It's… peculiar. But it isn't disease. He will be able to use mana.

Lia finally let the air out, as if she'd been holding it for months.

— By the gods… how wonderful.

Lyra smiled with hope. Lilia relaxed her fingers on her dress.

Lian understood enough: healthy, core, mana. And he understood something else from the way Yana didn't take her eyes off him afterward, like that hollow part had left a splinter in her curiosity.

"She saw something when she checked my core." He rested his forehead on Lia's shoulder, pretending to be tired. "I just hope it wasn't something bad."