3 The Zero-Mana Enigma
The boy's words—"the scarecrow"—hung in the air. Rimo felt a hot flush of shame creep up his neck. He looked down at his blood-stained, tattered clothes and knew the description was, unfortunately, accurate.
Elara sighed, but it was a fond, exasperated sound. "Kai, mind your manners. This is Rimo. He'll be staying with us." She placed a gentle hand on Rimo's back, a subtle gesture of support. "Rimo, this is Kai. He's... energetic."
Kai's grin didn't falter. He stepped forward, his dark eyes sparkling with curiosity, circling Rimo like a hawk. "Rimo, huh? Where'd you come from? What happened to you? You get in a fight with a thorn bush and lose?"
"Kai!" Elara chided.
Rimo flinched under the direct attention, shrinking in on himself. The analytical part of his mind noted Kai's posture: loose, confident, no immediate threat. But the scared, lost boy just wanted to hide.
"I... I don't remember," Rimo mumbled, the now-familiar phrase feeling like a shield and a burden.
Kai stopped his circling, his head tilting. "You don't remember? Nothing? Wow, you really are from nowhere!" He seemed fascinated, not mocking. "Well, welcome to Sunhaven! It's not so bad. The food's edible, and Elara doesn't yell too much."
"Thank you for that glowing endorsement," Elara said dryly. "Now, let's get inside and get you cleaned up, Rimo. Kai, make yourself useful and find some clothes that might fit him."
An hour later, scrubbed clean and wearing a slightly-too-large but soft tunic and trousers, Rimo felt like a different person. The physical evidence of his mysterious past was gone, washed down the drain, but the internal void remained. He sat on the edge of a simple cot in a dormitory room he was to share with three other boys, Kai among them. The room was plain but clean, filled with the sounds of boys roughhousing downstairs.
Kai bounded into the room. "Alright, clean slate! Come on, I'll give you the real tour. The one Elara won't show you."
Hesitantly, Rimo followed. Kai led him through the bustling orphanage—a common room with a large fireplace, a dining hall with long tables, and a yard out back where children of various ages were running, playing, and... practicing.
Rimo stopped at the doorway, watching as two older boys faced each other. One held a wooden practice sword, the other held his hands out, palms facing each other. A faint, shimmering sphere of light flickered into existence between his palms.
"Whoa," Rimo breathed, his golden eyes wide.
Kai followed his gaze and smirked. "Oh, that? That's just basic barrier magic. Nothing special." He puffed out his chest. "Watch this."
Kai stepped into the yard, nudging the other boy aside. "Move over, Liam. Let me show the new kid how it's done." He winked at Rimo, then took a deep breath. He brought his hands together, and with a sharp, practiced motion, pulled them apart.
A vibrant, roaring flame the size of a melon burst to life between his palms, dancing and flickering with contained power. The other children stopped to watch, some groaning, others looking impressed. The light from the fire cast dramatic shadows across Kai's proud, grinning face.
Rimo could feel the heat from where he stood. It was the most incredible thing he had ever seen. "How... how are you doing that?"
"It's magic, silly!" Kai said, letting the fireball vanish with a puff of smoke. "Mana. The energy inside every living thing. You pull it out, shape it with your will, and... boom! Fire. I'm the best at it here." He strode back over to Rimo, his confidence a tangible force. "Here, hold out your hand."
Cautiously, Rimo did. Kai placed his fingers on Rimo's wrist, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Everyone has a little mana. Even the cooks. I can usually feel it... a little buzz, like a bee in a jar." His smirk faded into a puzzled frown. He shifted his grip, his concentration deepening. "That's... weird."
"What?" Rimo asked, a knot of anxiety tightening in his stomach.
"I can't feel anything," Kai said, his dark eyes meeting Rimo's with genuine confusion. "It's like... it's like you're not even there. Your mana level is... zero. Literally zero." He dropped Rimo's wrist, staring at him as if he were a puzzle that didn't fit together. "How is that possible? Everyone has something."
The words hit Rimo like a physical blow. Zero. He was nothing. No past, no name, and now, no magic. In a world where children could conjure fire, he was an empty vessel.
Before he could sink into that despair, Elara's voice called out. "Kai! Stop showing off and help with the drills. Rimo, you too. It's time for basic training."
They were handed wooden practice swords. The weight felt familiar and comfortable in Rimo's hand, a small, unexpected anchor in the storm of his confusion. He watched as the older children, led by a stern caretaker, went through a series of basic strikes and parries.
"Just copy them," Kai whispered, easily falling into the stance. "It's easy."
Rimo tried. He mimicked the postures, but his movements were stiff, unnatural. He was overthinking, trying to force his body to do what his eyes were seeing. He was so focused on getting the forms right that he didn't notice the two older boys, the ones from earlier, breaking off from the group and approaching Kai with sly grins.
"Think you're so tough with your little fireball, Kai?" the one named Liam said, hefting his practice sword. "Let's see how you do without it."
In a flash, Liam lunged, his wooden sword swinging in a sharp arc aimed at Kai's side. It wasn't a playful move; it was fast and aggressive.
"Look out!" Rimo cried out, the words leaving his lips before he could think.
But his body was already moving faster than his voice.
He didn't think about form or technique. He didn't have to. As Liam committed to his swing, Rimo's feet shifted on the gravel, his body turning at just the right angle. His own practice sword came up not in a clumsy block, but in a fluid, almost lazy-looking parry that deflected Liam's strike perfectly. In the same motion, using the momentum of the deflection, Rimo's sword twisted and tapped sharply against Liam's wrist.
Thwack.
Liam yelped, his fingers springing open in a reflex. His practice sword clattered to the ground.
The entire yard fell silent. Even the birds seemed to stop chirping. Every eye was on Rimo.
He stood there, panting slightly, his own wooden sword held in a guard position he had no memory of learning. He looked from the stunned Liam, to Kai's wide, astonished eyes, to his own hands, as if they belonged to someone else.
The cold, analytical feeling was gone. In its place was a roaring in his ears and a single, terrifying thought.
How did I do that?