Chapter 4: Chapter 4 : Magic

The world is ruled by three major empires: the Demons, the Humans, and the Elves.

In the ancient records, it’s said the world was so vast it couldn’t be crossed in a single month. Modern scholars, however, believe that was simply due to poor transportation back then. Or maybe people just got lost a lot.

I A V A I

I’ve seen those eyes before—the eyes of someone who would do anything to grow stronger.

Father said something to my older sister, and she responded with an enthusiastic nod.

She took a stance, closed her eyes, and inhaled deeply. Then… magic.

A blaze sparked at the tip of her training spear, dancing wildly like a heartbeat—fast, eager, alive. It pulsed erratically at first, but gradually settled into a smooth, steady rhythm. Then she thrust the spear forward. The fire lagged a second behind her strike, then fizzled just as it reached the target.

“See that, sweetheart?” Mother said, smiling at me with pride practically oozing out of her. “That’s magic. You’ll be able to do that too when you grow up. Maybe even better!”

I didn’t reply. Not that I could. But even if I could, I might’ve stayed silent.

Because I wasn’t sure how I felt.

Magic.

That word stirred something. Familiar. Foreign. Like déjà vu from a dream I couldn’t remember. I don’t think we had magic where I came from. And even if we did, it probably wasn't like this.

Mother’s smile softened as she noticed my silence. I could tell she wanted to say more—but she didn’t.

I V A V I

That night, I couldn't sleep.

I stared at the ceiling of my tiny crib, eyes wide, brain racing. I’d seen people talk about magic in books, movies, maybe even games. But seeing it for real—feeling it—was different.

Was magic a force? A power? Something everyone could tap into? Or was it something only a select few were born with?

Mother’s words echoed in my mind: “You’ll be able to do that too…”

But what if I couldn’t?

What if this body didn’t have magic?

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

What if I didn’t belong here at all?

I hesitantly raised my hand toward the ceiling, trying to “feel” something. Anything. A tingle. A spark. A sign.

…And I did.

Just barely. A strange warmth stirred inside me.

But so did something else. A creeping fear. Deep-rooted and irrational.

I dropped my hand and curled into a ball, silent tears tracing down my cheeks.

I A V A I

I must’ve stared at the door for hours before it creaked open.

Mother entered quietly, careful not to wake me—though clearly, I wasn’t asleep.

When she saw me sitting up, her expression softened.

“Oh… Did I wake you up, darling?” she whispered, resting her head on the edge of the crib.

I didn’t move. I didn’t know how to respond. I didn’t even know if I should.

Her eyes shimmered—just slightly.

Crap. Was she… crying?

Did I do something wrong?

Was she regretting having a second child?

Did she forget to turn off the oven? Do they even have ovens here?

Panic made my tiny heart pound.

Desperate to do something, I tried standing up.

Failed.

Tried again.

Fell again.

She gasped, holding her breath.

Finally, on my third attempt, I stood. Wobbly, sure, but standing. I waddled forward, barely reaching her face—and with all the grace of a baby who barely knew what feet were, I poked her nose.

“Ahhhhhhh!”

Her scream nearly sent my soul flying out of my body.

Father barged in with an axe. An actual axe. My sister peeked out from behind him, eyes wide.

“She… she walked…” Mother stammered, eyes glassy with tears.

“???”

Everyone stared at me like I’d just invented sliced bread.

It took me a moment to realize:

…Right. Babies don’t usually walk on day two.

And now they think I’m a genius.

This is going to backfire horribly, isn’t it?

I A V A I

Later, I overheard my parents—well, mostly Mother, since I still didn’t understand the others—whispering in the other room.

“I don’t think she can absorb mana,” Mother said, her voice low. “I don’t know how long she’ll last with just what she gets from my milk…”

Father said something in return, more forcefully.

“I’ve been pouring mana into my words just in case she can understand,” he said. “But there’s no response. No signs. I’m worried… she’ll mutate. Into something else.”

Into a monster.

The word hit me harder than it should’ve.

My stomach turned.

I had to act. I had to at least pretend I understood them. Maybe talk a little earlier than planned. What’s the worst that could happen?

Mother leaned over my crib, staring at me.

“My dear child… are you okay?”

I froze.

Now or never.

My lips parted. My lungs drew in a tiny breath. And—

“Ma… muh…”

I gagged a little.

That wasn’t it.

Try again!

“Maaah…”

Her eyes widened.

“Mu… muh-mmm…” my tongue felt too big. My jaw didn’t listen. My brain knew what to say but my baby mouth was a wet noodle.

She leaned in close, holding her breath.

Come on you idiot mouth… do the thing…

“Ma…ma…”

My vocal cords finally kicked in with the emotional force of a lightning strike.

“MAMA!”

There was a long beat of silence.

Then she burst into tears.

I blinked. That was… that was the good kind of crying, right?

“Oh my stars—you talked! You spoke! She spoke!” she wailed, pulling me into a hug like I had just cured all sadness in the universe.

Father stormed into the room again, axe still in hand. Behind him, my sister trailed in with sleepy eyes.

“What happened now?! Is she flying?!”

“She said mama!” Mother declared with enough pride to rupture a sun.

“…?????” The man looked like his brain had bluescreened.

“I think our daughter is a genius!” she sobbed joyfully.

I stared at the ceiling in silent despair.

I’ve doomed myself. I’m going to be handed war treaties to sign before I can walk in a straight line.