Three years had passed since I first discovered that I could absorb Aether.
And in those three years, I had learned two important things.
First, magic was considerably more complicated than it appeared.
Second, having two sisters was far more exhausting than I had anticipated.
"Lucien! She's doing it again!"
I looked up from the book resting on my knees.
Across the living room, Evelyne stood beside the sofa, holding a wooden doll above her head. Beneath her, a small girl with dark brown hair and bright blue eyes was desperately attempting to retrieve it.
"Lyn! Mine!"
Liora Ashford, the youngest member of our family, had recently celebrated her first birthday.
She was also, without question, the most demanding person in the household.
"Say please," Evelyne instructed.
"Pwease!"
"Good girl!"
Evelyne lowered the doll.
Liora immediately snatched it from her hand, turned around, and struck her older sister's leg with it.
"Ow!"
I burst out laughing.
Evelyne stared at her in disbelief.
"Lucien! Did you see that?"
"I did."
"She hit me!"
"Maybe she didn't appreciate the lesson."
"You're supposed to be on my side!"
"I am. Usually."
Evelyne narrowed her eyes.
At eight years old, she had grown considerably taller and had developed an unfortunate habit of treating me like an accomplice whenever she wanted to avoid Mother's attention.
Liora, meanwhile, had discovered that being the youngest child came with certain advantages. A sufficiently loud cry could summon Mother from practically anywhere in the house, and she had become remarkably skilled at using this ability.
Despite that, I adored her.
When she wasn't terrorising Evelyne, she followed me around the house, demanding that I read to her or help her reach things she wasn't supposed to touch.
Sometimes she simply climbed onto my lap and fell asleep.
Those were my favourite moments.
I still remembered the day she was born.
Mother had been exhausted, Father had looked as though he'd forgotten how to breathe, and Evelyne had spent the entire morning asking when she could meet the baby.
I had been excited too, although for a different reason.
In my first life, I'd never had the opportunity to be an older brother.
Now I had someone who looked at me with complete trust, someone who expected me to be there whenever she needed help.
It was a responsibility I hadn't known I wanted.
"Lulu!"
Liora suddenly appeared beside my chair.
I looked down.
She held up her doll.
"Look!"
"Very impressive."
She beamed.
Then she threw it at my face.
I barely managed to catch it.
Apparently, affection and violence were closely related at her age.
By the age of four, I had made considerably more progress with Aether than I'd expected.
Not enough to call myself a mage, unfortunately.
But progress nonetheless.
My earliest attempts at absorbing Aether had been painful and unpredictable. Even the smallest quantity left me dizzy, and on several occasions I'd developed headaches that lasted for hours.
Eventually, I discovered that the problem wasn't simply the amount I absorbed.
It was the speed.
Whenever I tried drawing Aether into myself too quickly, the strange hollow space within my chest reacted violently. The sensation reminded me of forcing water through a pipe too narrow to accommodate it.
Slower absorption was different.
If I concentrated carefully and maintained physical contact with a weak crystal, I could draw in a tiny amount of Aether without immediately exhausting myself.
I still didn't understand where the energy went.
It didn't seem to accumulate in the same way Father described his own Aether reserves. Instead, it disappeared into that hollow sensation, leaving behind a faint warmth that gradually spread through my body.
Sometimes the warmth lasted only seconds.
Other times, it remained for several minutes.
I had also discovered something rather disappointing.
Absorbing Aether didn't automatically make me stronger.
My body was still that of a four-year-old boy.
I couldn't lift heavy objects, run particularly fast, or perform the simplest magical techniques.
Whatever my ability was capable of, it certainly wasn't interested in making my childhood convenient.
At least I could now sense nearby Aether with reasonable consistency.
And that alone had changed how I perceived the world.
The lamps lining Bellhaven's streets no longer appeared to be ordinary glowing crystals. I could faintly distinguish the currents flowing through them, especially when their mechanisms activated after sunset.
Father's workshop was even more interesting.
Whenever he repaired an Aether-powered device, I could sense energy moving through its conduits.
The sensation was difficult to describe.
It wasn't sight or hearing.
It was closer to becoming aware of movement in a room without knowing exactly where it came from.
And occasionally, when I concentrated hard enough, I could distinguish one current from another.
I had begun keeping track of my experiments in a small notebook.
Naturally, I couldn't write down anything too suspicious.
A four-year-old producing detailed observations about magical energy would raise questions I wasn't prepared to answer.
So I used simple drawings and symbols.
To anyone else, the pages probably resembled the work of a child with an unhealthy fascination for circles and arrows.
Which, technically, wasn't inaccurate.
"Again!"
A sharp crack echoed through the garden.
Blue lightning danced between Evelyne's fingers before leaping towards a wooden target several paces away.
The bolt struck its centre, leaving a blackened mark.
I whistled.
"Not bad."
Evelyne lowered her hand and grinned.
"Not bad? That was perfect!"
"Your last one missed."
"That was a practice shot."
"Of course."
She stuck out her tongue.
Father stood beside us, examining the target.
"Your control has improved considerably," he said. "But you're still releasing more Aether than necessary."
Evelyne's smile faded.
"Again?"
"Again."
She groaned.
Father crossed his arms.
"Strength without control is wasteful. A mage who exhausts herself after three spells won't be much use in a prolonged fight."
"But I can cast more than three!"
"Then you should aim for six."
Evelyne looked offended.
I suspected Father was enjoying himself.
Her lightning affinity had become increasingly apparent over the past few years. Unlike Father's relatively weak aptitude for general Aether manipulation, Evelyne seemed naturally capable of producing electrical discharges.
Her progress had attracted attention.
A local instructor who occasionally assisted with children's magical training had visited our home several weeks earlier.
After observing Evelyne, he'd strongly recommended that Father arrange a formal talent assessment.
Apparently, manifesting a stable elemental affinity at her age was unusual.
Evelyne had been insufferably proud ever since.
"When's my examination?" she asked.
"Next month," Father replied.
Her eyes widened.
"Really?"
"I received confirmation yesterday. The provincial assessment office is sending an examiner to Bellhaven."
She practically jumped.
"Mother! Did you hear that?"
Mother, who was sitting beneath the garden awning with Liora, smiled.
"I heard."
"I'm going to get the highest grade!"
Father chuckled.
"Just do your best."
"But what if I get Grade Nine?"
"Then I imagine we'll have some very important visitors."
Evelyne looked delighted by the possibility.
I, on the other hand, had mixed feelings.
Over the past three years, I'd learned that magical talent was measured on a scale from one to nine.
Most people possessed little natural aptitude.
Those born with higher grades could absorb, manipulate, and understand Aether more easily, making them valuable to academies, noble families, and military institutions.
Grade Five was already considered rare.
Grade Six was exceptional enough to attract serious attention.
Anything higher was the sort of talent people discussed for years.
Of course, talent wasn't everything.
Father had explained that dedication, experience, and comprehension mattered just as much when it came to actual combat.
Still, there was no denying that the world treated naturally gifted individuals differently.
I glanced at Evelyne.
She was already preparing another lightning bolt.
I hoped her examination went well.
Although I had a feeling that success might bring complications none of us expected.
That afternoon, Father called me into his workshop.
The room occupied a small extension behind our house. Shelves covered the walls, filled with tools, spare mechanical parts, and dismantled Aether devices.
A familiar smell of metal and machine oil hung in the air.
Father stood beside his workbench, examining a cylindrical component made from brass and dark iron.
"Lucien, could you hand me the small wrench?"
I retrieved it from the tool rack.
"Here."
"Thank you."
He tightened a fitting before turning the component over.
I leaned closer.
"What is it?"
"A regulator from an Aether conduit."
"Railway?"
He smiled.
"That's right."
I had developed a habit of asking questions whenever he brought work home.
At first, Father answered them with the simplified explanations adults usually gave children.
Eventually, however, he'd discovered that I could follow more complicated discussions.
Now he occasionally allowed me to help with harmless tasks.
It was one of my favourite ways to spend an afternoon.
"What's wrong with it?" I asked.
"That's what I'm trying to determine."
He opened the regulator's outer casing.
Inside was a network of narrow metallic channels surrounding a crystal socket.
The socket was empty.
"Normally, the crystal supplies Aether through these conduits," Father explained. "The regulator controls how much energy reaches the machinery."
I nodded.
"But this one stopped working?"
"Several did."
He placed the regulator on the table.
"All from the northern railway junction."
I looked up.
The northern junction.
I remembered the conversations I'd overheard years earlier.
Aberrant attacks.
Damaged railway equipment.
Injured workers returning to Bellhaven.
The situation had eventually quietened, although Father continued mentioning occasional disruptions along the northern routes.
"What happened?"
"That's the strange part."
He opened a small wooden box.
Inside lay a crystal.
It was completely colourless.
My breath caught.
For a moment, I was reminded of the lamp crystal I'd drained as an infant.
Father lifted it between two fingers.
"Most crystals gradually lose efficiency as they're used. Even depleted ones usually retain traces of Aether."
He held the crystal towards the window.
"This one doesn't."
I stared at it.
There was no glow.
No visible movement.
Nothing.
"Broken?" I asked.
"That's what I thought."
Father placed it on the workbench.
"But Garrick examined several others recovered from the same section of railway. Their internal structures are intact."
He frowned.
"It's as though something removed every trace of Aether without damaging the crystals themselves."
My heartbeat quickened.
I knew exactly what that sounded like.
Father glanced at me.
"Strange, isn't it?"
I forced myself to nod.
"Very."
He returned the crystal to its box.
"The railway company wants me to inspect the northern junction next week."
I looked up sharply.
"You're going?"
"Only for a day or two."
"Is it safe?"
Father paused.
Then he crouched beside me.
"The guards have been patrolling the area for months. There haven't been any confirmed attacks near the junction recently."
That wasn't quite an answer.
He seemed to realise it.
"I'll be careful, Lucien."
I looked at the box.
The crystal was identical to the one I'd accidentally drained years earlier.
I wanted to ask a hundred questions.
Had anyone seen what caused the damage?
Were there more crystals?
Had the conduits been attacked by an Aberrant?
But I couldn't explain why I was so interested without revealing something about myself.
And I wasn't ready for that conversation.
Not yet.
That evening, I returned to the workshop while Father was helping Mother prepare dinner.
The door had been left unlocked.
I slipped inside and approached the workbench.
The wooden box remained where Father had placed it.
I hesitated.
I knew I shouldn't touch his equipment without permission.
But the crystal had been bothering me all afternoon.
I opened the box.
The colourless stone rested inside.
I picked it up.
Immediately, I noticed something unusual.
The crystal itself contained no Aether.
That much was obvious.
But its surface carried a faint sensation I hadn't noticed earlier.
It wasn't energy.
At least, not the kind I usually sensed.
It was more like a lingering impression.
An absence where something should have been.
I frowned.
That sounded ridiculous, even to me.
How could I sense something that wasn't there?
I concentrated.
For a brief moment, the hollow space within my chest stirred.
Then a strange feeling passed through me.
Recognition.
Not my own recognition.
Something deeper.
Something instinctive.
I tightened my grip on the crystal.
A faint chill spread across my fingers.
The sensation was unpleasantly familiar.
I remembered the void.
The endless darkness.
The absence of everything.
My breathing became shallow.
For a moment, I could almost hear the silence again.
I quickly placed the crystal back inside its box.
The sensation faded.
I stepped away from the workbench, pressing a hand against my chest.
What was that?
I had touched dozens of depleted crystals over the past three years.
None had felt like this.
The ones I drained myself simply became empty.
But this crystal felt different.
As though something had happened to it that my ability recognised.
I stared at the box.
Was there another person with an ability like mine?
Or had something else caused the damage?
I didn't know.
And for the first time, that uncertainty frightened me more than the possibility of being discovered.
"Lucien?"
I turned.
Father stood in the doorway.
My stomach dropped.
"What are you doing in here?"
I glanced at the workbench.
"Looking."
He followed my gaze.
For a moment, his expression became unreadable.
Then he sighed.
"I thought I told you not to handle the equipment without me."
"Sorry."
He approached the table and examined the box.
"Did you touch anything?"
I hesitated.
"The crystal."
Father looked at me.
"Why?"
I considered lying.
But the thought made me uncomfortable.
"Because it was strange."
He was silent for several seconds.
Then he pulled out a stool.
"Sit down."
I obeyed.
Father took the crystal from its box and held it in his palm.
"You've always been curious about Aether," he said.
I nodded.
"That's not a bad thing. Curiosity is how people learn."
He paused.
"But curiosity can also get you hurt."
I lowered my gaze.
"Sorry."
"I'm not angry."
He placed the crystal on the table.
"I just want you to understand that some things are dangerous even when they don't look dangerous."
I looked at him.
"Like Aberrants?"
Father's expression tightened slightly.
"Yes. Like Aberrants."
He returned the crystal to its box.
"Now, let's go have dinner before your mother starts wondering where we've disappeared."
I stood.
As we approached the doorway, I glanced back once.
The box sat quietly on the workbench.
An ordinary wooden container holding an ordinary-looking stone.
Yet I couldn't shake the feeling that it was connected to something far beyond our little town.
The following morning, Father left early for work.
Mother was busy preparing an order for a wealthy customer, and Evelyne had gone to practise with her instructor.
That left me responsible for entertaining Liora.
A task I was beginning to suspect required more patience than magical training.
"No, Liora. You can't eat that."
She stared at the wooden block in her hand.
Then at me.
Then slowly raised it towards her mouth.
"Liora."
She grinned.
I sighed.
At least some things remained predictable.
We spent the morning playing in the living room. I built towers from wooden blocks, and Liora enthusiastically destroyed them.
After the fifth tower, I decided that construction might not be her calling.
Eventually, she grew tired and climbed onto my lap.
Within minutes, she was asleep.
I looked down at her.
Her tiny fingers were curled around my sleeve.
She breathed softly, completely unaware of the worries occupying my thoughts.
I gently brushed a strand of hair away from her face.
Three years ago, I had been terrified of the darkness.
Sometimes I still was.
There were nights when I woke trembling, convinced that the world had disappeared and I was once again trapped in that endless void.
But those moments had become less frequent.
Not because I'd forgotten what happened.
I doubted I ever would.
They had become easier to endure because I no longer faced them alone.
I had a family.
A home.
People who would notice if I disappeared.
I looked towards the window.
Beyond Bellhaven lay the five continents of Aethernia, filled with places I'd never seen and people I'd never met.
I wanted to explore them.
I wanted to learn everything this world had to offer.
But before any of that, I wanted to protect the life I'd been given.
And lately, something had begun threatening that peace.
Father returned home shortly before sunset.
He looked more tired than usual.
Mother greeted him at the door.
"How was work?"
"Complicated."
He removed his coat and hung it beside the entrance.
"Did they decide what to do about the northern junction?"
Father nodded.
"I'm leaving tomorrow morning."
Mother went still.
"So soon?"
"They've discovered another damaged section of conduit. The company wants someone there before they attempt repairs."
"Will you be travelling alone?"
"No. Two other engineers, a maintenance crew, and an armed escort."
Mother seemed slightly relieved.
"How long?"
"Three days. Four at most."
Evelyne appeared in the hallway.
"Where are you going?"
Father smiled.
"Just a short work trip."
"Can I come?"
"Not this time."
She pouted.
I remained quiet.
Father noticed.
"Lucien?"
I looked up.
"Be careful," I said.
His expression softened.
"I will."
He ruffled my hair before heading upstairs.
I watched him go.
For some reason, I couldn't stop thinking about the colourless crystal.
And the strange sensation I'd felt when touching it.
Something had drained the Aether from those railway conduits.
Something that left behind a trace my own ability could recognise.
I didn't know whether it was a person, a creature, or something entirely different.
But I knew one thing.
I wanted to find out.
That night, I sat beside my bedroom window.
The streets of Bellhaven were illuminated by rows of blue Aether lamps.
In the distance, a train sounded its horn.
I closed my eyes and concentrated.
The familiar currents of Aether gradually became perceptible.
The lamp beside my bed.
The faint energy flowing through the streetlights.
Even the distant glow of a passing carriage.
Everything seemed normal.
Then, for the briefest moment, I felt something else.
A faint disturbance.
Far away.
It was so subtle that I almost dismissed it.
But unlike the gentle currents surrounding the town, this sensation felt strangely hollow.
My eyes snapped open.
I stared towards the northern horizon.
Nothing.
Only rooftops and the distant silhouette of the railway station.
I waited.
The sensation didn't return.
Perhaps I'd imagined it.
Perhaps my thoughts about the crystal had influenced what I felt.
Yet something deep within me remained unsettled.
I rested a hand against my chest.
For the first time, the hollow space inside me didn't feel entirely silent.
And somewhere beyond Bellhaven, something had begun to stir.