A tall, severe-looking man greets them at the inn and leads them wordlessly to a private room. Inside, Amanda Knight is waiting, seated in an armchair.
Arthur notices his mother's posture stiffen almost imperceptibly as they enter. He'd seen it before when they'd dealt with tax collectors or town officials. It was the careful, guarded posture she adopted when the rules of engagement weren't about combat, but about etiquette—a game she'd never cared to learn.
Amanda rises as they enter. "Please, come in. Have a seat," she says, her voice calm and professional. "And before we begin, congratulations on your victory today, Mrs. Anvil. It was a masterful display."
While Christina gives a stiff, formal nod, Daniel steps forward slightly, perfectly at ease. "Good evening, Captain. We thank you for the compliment," he says smoothly, giving a slight, respectful bow that makes Christina blink in momentary surprise. He naturally takes the lead in the conversation, his relaxed posture a stark contrast to his wife's rigidity.
Amanda offers a small, disarming smile, sensing the tension. "The matter I wish to discuss is important, but there is no need for such ceremony between us. I would prefer we dispense with the formalities, if you are comfortable."
"Of course. Proceed," Christina replies, her tone remaining clipped and formal.
"I will be direct," Amanda says, her gaze serious. "This afternoon, in the arena, I saw your son use holy magic. An exceptionally rare and powerful element."
"What? Arthur can use magic?!" Chris exclaims.
Well, I'm screwed, Arthur thinks, refusing to meet his mother's eyes.
"Is this true, son?" Daniel asks calmly.
"I think I did see a strange flash of light, right before I found Arty talking with the knight," Elisa adds thoughtfully.
The cat's out of the bag now, Arthur thinks with a sigh. Might as well play along and see where this goes.
"I don't really know," Arthur replies, doing his best to sound disappointed. "I was just trying to copy what she did. It didn't actually work."
"Didn't work?" Amanda repeats, a hint of incredulous laughter in her voice. "Arthur, you generated a pulse of pure holy light. Most mages train for a lifetime and can't do that. For a five-year-old, it's not a failure; it's a miracle."
"She's right, son," Daniel agrees, a note of awe in his own voice. "The youngest mages we know of begin their training at ten, and even that is exceptionally rare."
"But we have a problem," Christina says, her voice low. "If the Church finds out about this, they might want to take him to 'serve the Goddess'."
Amanda's expression hardens instantly. "It is not a possibility," she says, her tone sharp and intense. "It is a certainty. And they will not ask."
The sudden fierceness in her voice makes the family exchange apprehensive looks. Amanda seems to notice and tempers her tone.
"Which is why I have a proposal for you," she continues. "The only way to shield him from the Church's claim is for him to have a prior claim from the Crown. Let me take Arthur as my personal apprentice. Under the banner of the Royal Knights, he would be protected."
"But he's just a boy! He's only five years old!" Daniel says, his worry returning full force.
"True, but his potential is undeniable."
"Is it really such a big deal that I used holy magic?" Arthur pipes in. "I mean, we don't even know if I can do it again. I just showed a little... aptitude."
Amanda stares at Arthur, a flicker of something—recognition? awe?—in her eyes before she turns back to his parents. "Is he truly only five? It is difficult to believe when he speaks with such clarity."
Daniel gives a soft, knowing chuckle. "I understand what you mean. He's always been... precocious. You get used to it."
His expression turns serious again as he addresses her proposal.
"But regardless of how he speaks, he is still only five," Daniel says, his tone shifting from paternal amusement to formal resolve. "We appreciate the generosity of your offer, Captain, truly. But we cannot send our son away. With all due respect, we must refuse. He needs time to simply be a child."
Amanda takes a moment, clearly reassessing her strategy. "I understand," she says, then presses on. "Then allow me to make a different proposal. What if we brought the training to him? You would not have to send him away. I can arrange for a Court Mage to instruct him here, at home. To help him control his power and determine the true potential of his holy element."
"But why are you so invested in this?" Arthur asks, his tone more analytical than a child's should be. "Is it really just about the holy magic?"
Amanda's gaze on him is intense. "You are too young to understand the politics of this, Arthur. But the Church will come for you. It is only a matter of time. And when they do, if you are just a civilian boy, we will have no legal grounds to protect you. But if you are officially a ward of the Crown, being trained by the Royal Knights... they can request your services, but they cannot claim you. It's the best protection I can offer. The most freedom I can guarantee," she says, her earnest plea directed at his parents, her memory of the old sensei's warning fueling her desperation.
"I see," Arthur says quietly. "So this is your way of keeping me from becoming a soldier for the Church."
"No! It is not that simple," Amanda sighs, looking pained. "Let us just say... I have seen what happens when the Church 'claims' someone with a rare gift."
Right. A 'similar situation', Arthur thinks, his brow furrowing as the pieces click into place. She must be talking about her own summoning. A rare hero appears, and the great powers—the Crown, the Church—must have fought over her like a prize. She's not just following orders. This is personal.
"Alright," Arthur says, changing his tone back to that of a simple child. "If we agree, I can still live here with my parents, right?"
"Yes. That is the core of the proposal," Amanda replies, turning her hopeful gaze back to Daniel and Christina.
The couple shares a long, silent look. It's a conversation without words, weighing the danger of the Church against the intrusion of the Crown. Finally, Daniel gives a slow, deliberate nod.
"This proposal, we can accept," Daniel says, his tone shifting to that of a calm negotiator. "But we have conditions of our own, which we would prefer to discuss... privately."
With that, Arthur and Elisa are ushered out to the inn's common room to wait for their parents' return.
"Hold on, Arty," Elisa says, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You didn't actually copy that knight's technique, did you? Just from seeing it once?"
"Not yet," Arthur admits calmly. "But I think I can figure it out."
"But that's not just some simple spell!" she insists, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "That's holy magic. It's, like, a Superior-tier skill."
"What do you mean?" Arthur asks, playing the part of the curious younger brother perfectly.
Elisa lets out a worldly, ten-year-old sigh. "Right. You wouldn't know about the Tiers, would you? Mom and Dad don't really talk about this stuff at home. I only know because I'm studying to be an adventurer, like them."
She leans in closer.
"They made me promise not to influence you, by the way. So you can't tell them I told you any of this. Deal?"
"My lips are sealed," Arthur agrees. "It makes sense, I guess. I think they want me to get a safe, boring job. Like being a merchant's bookkeeper," he adds, forcing a lame laugh.
"Well, it's not that complicated," Elisa says, puffing out her chest a little with a sense of importance. "Everything is divided into Tiers, from spells to fighting styles, all based on power and difficulty. I'm not totally sure about all the details—it's just stuff I've overheard from adventurers. But what I am sure about are the Tiers themselves. I've memorized them all, and they're the same for both warriors and mages."
"Wow, sis. You really do know a lot," Arthur comments, knowing the praise is the perfect fuel to keep her talking.
"Don't interrupt!" Elisa says, though she can't hide a proud smile. "Okay, so, the Tiers are: Initial, Basic, Intermediate, Advanced, Superior, Royal, Imperial, Master, Holy, and God-tier."
She takes a breath before delivering her final point like an expert. "And the easiest holy combat spells start at the Superior-tier. That's why it's such a big deal. For someone your age to even make a flicker of that light... yeah. 'Genius' is probably the right word."
The two siblings continue their secret lesson, Elisa proudly explaining the nuances of the Tiers she's learned, and Arthur carefully filing every word away. They're so engrossed they barely notice when their parents return to find them in the reception hall, ready to finally head home."Is everything okay, Dad?" Arthur asks on the walk home.
"Everything's fine, son. Don't you worry," Daniel says, ruffling his hair. "We came to an agreement, and I think you're going to like it."
"What do you mean? Does that mean I'm going to the army?"
"No, nothing like that, sweetie," his mother reassures him. "You'll be receiving instruction at home, from a real Court Mage. It's a great honor."
"So what's the catch?" Elisa interjects, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "There's always a catch when you're dealing with Royals."
"You're sharp, Ellie," her father admits with a small smile. "And you're right, there's always a price. But it's not something you or Arty need to worry about right now."
Despite the vague answer, a clear sense of relief radiated from the parents, a quiet satisfaction with the deal they had struck. With that, the four of them walked the rest of the way home, the heavy emotions of the day finally giving way to a shared, weary silence.
The next morning, his parents set off on their guild mission.
"We shouldn't be gone more than a week," Christina says from the doorway. "In the meantime, Arty, you listen to your sister. And Ellie," she adds, her gaze firm but loving, "we're counting on you to look after him and the house."
"You can count on me, Mom! Everything will be fine," Ellie replies, puffed up with pride at the responsibility.
That afternoon, Arthur slips out to the backyard to practice his magic, his mind still chewing on his previous failure.
What went wrong? he thinks, pacing the yard. There must be a key piece of the puzzle I'm overlooking... Something so obvious.
After a few moments of practice, he's already managed to conjure small, crackling balls of elemental energy. A few more tests, and he thinks he's found the answer.
That's it! It's about intent and allocation! he realizes. An offensive spell, like an energy ball, is 'fire and forget'. I just have to charge it and throw it, with the intent for it to explode on contact. But a defensive spell like the shield needs to persist. It needs a duration. That must also affect the mana cost—a portion for creation, and a portion for maintenance. If I don't allocate any mana to maintain the shield, it just flashes into existence and vanishes. That's what happened at the arena. Now... time to test the new theory.
Elisa arrives carrying a tray with two large sandwiches. "What are you up to out here, Arty?"
"I think I know what the problem was," he replies, his voice thoughtful and distant, as if still working it out in his head. "With the shield spell. I think I figured it out."
"That's amazing!" Elisa exclaims. "And what was the problem?"
"I realized I failed to give the spell a complete intention," Arthur explains. "I had focused on creating the barrier, but I didn't give it a duration command. So, all the mana was used for creation, but none was allocated for maintenance. By correcting that, I should be able to do it."
Elisa just stares at him for a long moment, sandwich held halfway to her mouth, a completely blank look on her face. It's clear Arthur's technical explanation went right over her head.
"What is it?" asks Arthur.
She finally blinks, snapping back to her role as the mature older sister. "Right," she says, deciding to sidestep the theory entirely. "You're way too smart for a five-year-old. Less talking, more showing. Let's see it."
She drops the sandwiches on a nearby pile of wood and sits down, waiting expectantly.
Arthur takes a ready stance, a flicker of determination in his eyes. He extends his small hand, and a perfect, shimmering dome of golden light materializes in the air before him immediately, humming with quiet power.
He opens his eyes and looks at Elisa. Her jaw is slightly agape, her usual big-sister composure gone, replaced by pure, undisguised awe.
He dismisses the shield and summons it again, this time holding it for a longer duration. He experiments with its size, expanding and contracting the golden energy with a focused concentration that belies his age. Each time, the shield responds perfectly to his will.
"Okay, genius," Elisa says finally, shaking her head in amazement. "Snack time."
She had made surprisingly delicious-looking sandwiches, and Arthur was genuinely surprised. He had no idea she could cook.
"What's with the surprised face?" she asks, a hint of her usual pride returning. "An adventurer has to be resourceful, you know!. That includes knowing how to cook so you don't starve on a mission. Don't you dare think I'm just some little girl because I know my way around a kitchen!"
"No, no, I'd never think that. I'm just impressed, sis," Arthur says with a grin. "Seriously, is there anything you can't do?"
"Of course there is!" she retorts, her cheeks turning a deep shade of pink. "Don't be ridiculous!"
Too easy, Arthur thinks, hiding his own smile.
The next few days fall into a comfortable, happy rhythm. Their time is a mix of playing in the yard, of Arthur watching in awe as Ellie flawlessly executes her sword forms, and of his own secret training sessions. The peaceful routine is broken one afternoon, however, when Elisa approaches him with an unpleasant piece of news.
"Arty, we have a problem," Elisa announces one afternoon, her tone serious. "I've checked the pantry, and we've eaten through most of our supplies. There won't be enough for tomorrow."
She slings a shortbow over her shoulder.
"I'm going into the forest to hunt. You're to stay here and don't get into any trouble. Understood?"
"No way!" Arthur objects immediately. "You can't go alone! What if something happens to you? I'll be all alone!" And I really want to see the forest, he thinks.
"Relax," Elisa says, puffing out her chest with a confidence that perfectly mimics their mother. "Your big sister is strong. Just like Mom."
"I don't care! I'm not staying here alone!" he retorts, putting on his best pleading face while internally begging, Please take me with you!
Elisa sighs, a long, dramatic sound of a burdened older sibling. "Oh, alright! Fine. You can come. But," she adds, pointing a stern finger at him, "you stay right beside me at all times. And you do exactly what I say, no questions asked. It can be dangerous out there. Do you promise?"
"Okay! I promise!" Arthur says, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice, even as a triumphant thought flashes through his mind: Awesome!
The two siblings set off, geared up for the hunt. Ellie was armed with a pair of daggers and a shortbow; Arty carried a lantern and his small tool backpack. They reached the stone bridge marking the entrance to the Soulwood, shared a final, steadying look, and plunged into the woods together, hoping to find enough food for the next couple of days.
Within steps, the forest canopy grew so dense it blotted out the afternoon sun, plunging them into a deep, green twilight. Ellie immediately began sniffing the air, a skill she'd inherited from her mother.
"There are some boars nearby," she announced. "That way."
"How can you possibly know that? I can't see a thing."
"Please. I can smell those things a mile away. They stink."
"That's incredible! I wish I had a sense of smell like that."
"Believe me, it's not always a superpower," she said with a sigh.
"Like when?"
"Like when a certain little brother needs a bath," she said, wrinkling her nose playfully. "It makes my job as a caring big sister very difficult."
"Okay, okay, I get it!" Arthur interrupted, his cheeks flushing.
"And I can smell other things, too. Like when people get nervous... or excited," she continued, completely matter-of-fact. "Boys are the worst. They have no control over it. I hope you aren't like that when you get older."
"I said I get it! Stop!" Arthur pleaded, while his sister burst out laughing.
"Sorry," she said, giggling. "But now I finally get why Aunt Emma thinks teasing people is so much fun."
It takes them a few minutes to visually confirm what Ellie's keen nose had already pinpointed: a sounder of wild boars rooting in the dirt in a small clearing ahead. "Up," she whispers, pointing to a sturdy, low-hanging branch. They scramble up the tree, settling into a hidden perch to wait.
As the boars pass beneath them, Ellie is a picture of silent focus. She draws her bow, takes aim, and lets two arrows fly in quick succession. Two clean shots. Two boars drop without a sound, while the rest of the sounder, spooked but unharmed, crashes away into the undergrowth.
After a few minutes of listening to the silence to ensure nothing else was alerted, they shimmy down the tree and begin the practical work of butchering their kills.
"That was incredible, Ellie. Truly," Arthur says, his voice full of genuine awe.
Incredible doesn't even cover it, he thinks. Back on Earth, I'd seen trained hunters with rifles who weren't that clean or efficient. She's a natural-born prodigy.
"Well, obviously," Ellie replies, striking a mock-heroic pose before breaking into a grin. "Were you expecting anything less?"
The two share a laugh.
They're nearly done packing the meat when Ellie suddenly freezes. Her cat-like ears twitch, swiveling to catch a faint sound Arthur can't hear. She raises a single finger to her lips, her voice a sharp, sudden hiss.
"Quiet. And get down."
The snap of a twig is their only warning. Suddenly, the woods erupt. A horde of goblins—small, green-skinned, and snarling—pours from between the trees, charging them.
Ellie reacts instantly. "Arty, get back!" she yells, drawing and firing her bow in a single, fluid motion. An arrow finds a throat. Another buries itself in a chest. She drops two more before the first line of goblins is on them.
"Arty, like we practiced! Cover me!" she shouts, tossing him her bow and quiver as she draws her twin daggers, a blur of silver.
Arthur fumbles with the bow, his hands small and clumsy for the draw and the sudden weight of the situation. He manages to nock an arrow and fire, taking down a goblin that was flanking his sister. He fires again. And again. Then he reaches for another arrow, and his fingers find only empty fabric. He's out.
Meanwhile, Ellie is a whirlwind of flashing steel, her daggers a blur as she cuts a path through the goblins. She's impossibly fast, a true prodigy, but for every one she fells, three more take its place. They're being swarmed, their small clearing of safety shrinking with every passing second.
She glances over her shoulder and sees it: a trio of goblins has broken through, closing in on a defenseless Arthur. A primal scream of pure rage tears from her throat. Her eyes begin to glow with a furious red light as a dense, crimson aura explodes from her body. Veins bulge on her arms, and she moves with a speed and strength that are no longer just skilled, but utterly inhuman.
The counterattack is devastating. She is no longer a girl fighting; she is a natural disaster. Goblins are thrown, slashed, and broken as she carves a protective circle around her brother.
The last of the smaller goblins falls. The fight seems won. But a new, larger shadow detaches itself from the trees. An enormous hobgoblin, twice the size of the others, steps into the clearing. Before Ellie can even react, it closes the distance and backhands her with terrifying force. She's thrown through the air, crashing against a tree with a sickening crack. She slumps to the ground, blood trickling from her temple and the corner of her mouth, the red aura around her flickering and dying out.
The hobgoblin raises its club for a final, crushing blow. Seeing his sister helpless beneath it, something inside Arthur snaps. Pure instinct takes over. Without a thought, without an incantation, he shoves his hand forward and screams a silent prayer in his mind.
A dome of brilliant golden light erupts around Ellie, so bright it momentarily turns the dark woods to day. The hobgoblin's club smashes against it and rebounds with a sound like thunder, the creature staggering back from the force. The shield holds, but Arthur can feel his mana draining at an alarming rate.
Desperate, his mind racing, he scrambles for a weapon. He rips a crude arrow from the chest of a nearby goblin corpse.
What if I charge this arrow with my mana, imbuing it with holy energy? Can I create a magic arrow that way? he thinks, his hands trembling. It's not the time for experiments, but it's all I've got. I have to save Ellie! Focus, Arthur! FOCUS!
He shoves all the power and intent he can muster into the arrow. It begins to glow, the light growing from a faint gold to a blinding, brilliant gold. From her position on the ground, Ellie watches in utter astonishment as her little brother conjures a holy magic arrow.
He nocks the glowing arrow. He draws the string. He releases.
The arrow doesn't fly; it detonates. With a sound like the air itself tearing apart, it shoots forward in a beam of pure golden light. It strikes the hobgoblin, and the monster's entire upper torso is simply... gone. Obliterated. The arrow itself, unable to contain the power, disintegrates into motes of golden dust on impact, but the beam of energy continues, carving a fifty-meter-long clearing through the dense forest before finally dissipating.
Arthur rushes to his sister's side. "Ellie! Are you okay?"
"Relax, little bro," she says, wincing as she pushes herself up. "I'm... I'm fine. A little sore. Let's just get our stuff and go."
Her face is a mess and she's clearly in pain. She's not fooling anyone, Arthur thinks, but he just tries to return her brave smile.
Ellie, for her part, could only stare at the new, sunlit clearing in the woods. Her little brother had not only conjured a Superior-tier defensive spell, but had followed it up with an offensive holy magic of such destructive power she couldn't even classify it.
Arthur, meanwhile, felt a wave of relief so powerful it almost made him sick.
It worked. Thank God... or... should I say "thank me"? he thinks, a giddy laugh bubbling up inside him. Okay, I think I'm getting the hang of it. But the most important thing... Ellie's safe. I need to get stronger. Fast.
As they walk back towards the city, the sound of galloping hooves makes them freeze. A patrol of City Guards is approaching at speed. One of them, the leader, pulls his horse to a halt in front of the two children.
"Are you two alright?" the guard asks, his eyes taking in Ellie's blood-soaked and battered appearance.
"Yes, sir. Just a tough hunt," Ellie replies smoothly, trying not to look as injured as she feels.
"I see," the guard says, his gaze sweeping the quiet woods. "Did you happen to be near a large flash of golden light just now?"
Ellie and Arty share a quick, almost imperceptible look. It's Ellie who answers.
"No, sir," she lies without missing a beat. "We were just in the outer woods here. We saw the flash, though. It came from deeper in that direction, and we decided it was time to head home after that." She points back towards the clearing where the hobgoblin fell.
"Besides, we already got what we came for," Arthur adds quickly, holding up their hunt as proof. His statement was perfectly true.
"A wise decision," the guard says, seemingly satisfied. "The woods aren't safe. Get home now."
"Yes, sir," they both reply.
With a nod, the guard spurs his horse onward, and the patrol continues deeper into the Soulwood. Only when they are truly gone do the two siblings finally let out a breath they didn't realize they'd been holding.
Upon arriving home, Arthur immediately tries to take charge. "Ellie, you need to go lie down. Please, just let me handle dinner tonight."
"No! Making the food is my job," she protests stubbornly, but as she says it, her legs tremble and nearly give out from under her. She has to grab the table to keep from falling.
Arthur's expression softens, his eyes pleading. "Please, sis. Just for tonight."
"Oh... alright," she finally concedes, the exhaustion too great to ignore. "I guess I could use the rest."
As Elisa heads to her room, Arthur turns his attention to the butchered boars. He enters his world of thoughts as he begins to prepare the meat. Okay, I said I'd make dinner, but the only thing I really know how to do with this is a good old-fashioned barbecue. A nostalgic smile touches his lips. Just like the old Sunday barbecues with family and friends back home.
He works with a practiced, almost forgotten ease. He renders some of the boar's fat in a pan, then crushes familiar herbs from the pantry and the yard into it with salt to create a rustic, aromatic rub. He prepares a perfect rack of boar ribs, coating it generously. Building a small, controlled fire in the yard, he begins to roast the meat slowly, a side sauce of crushed berries and more herbs simmering in a small pot nearby.
When everything is ready, the aroma filling the small house, Arthur calls his sister to dinner. The girl is visibly impressed.
"Since when do you know how to cook like this?"
"What, this?" Arthur says with a shrug, trying to sound casual. "I just roasted a piece of our hunt and made a sauce with some herbs from the pantry and the yard. Nothing special."
"Still, it's amazing! It smells incredible!" Elisa says, then pauses, a thoughtful frown on her face as she points at the sauce. "Wait a second... you can eat those herbs? I thought they were just weeds!"
"Thanks. Now let's eat before it gets cold," Arthur deflects, deftly avoiding a question he has no logical way to answer.
"Thank you for the meal!" Elisa says with a genuine, happy smile. She takes a tentative bite of the boar rib, chews slowly, and then her eyes go wide.
"Arty... what is this?" she asks, her voice full of awe as she takes a much bigger, more eager second bite. "This is... I don't even have words. It's the best thing I've ever eaten! What kind of magic did you put in this?"
Arthur just watches her, a quiet and deeply satisfied smile on his face. Seeing his big sister—the tough, serious prodigy—completely lose herself in the simple joy of the meal he has made for her... that, he decides, is a feeling better than any magic he has discovered so far.
The next morning, Ellie is feeling much better. She heads out to the backyard and finds her brother standing in the middle of the yard, just staring up at the sky.
"What are you doing out here, Arty?"
"Morning, Ellie," Arthur replies, smiling as if snapping out of a deep thought. "I'm working on a problem. Trying to figure out how to use yesterday's magic without needing a catalyst, like the arrow."
"You're what now?" Ellie asks, completely lost.
"Yesterday, I didn't actually cast a spell," he explains patiently. "I just used an arrow as a conduit—I charged it with holy-imbued mana and then fired it. It worked, but it's inefficient. It limits me to throwing things."
"Okay, how about you repeat that in our language now?"
"Okay, look. It's a method with pros and cons," he continues, starting to pace. "Pro: I can charge any object, even a rock. Con: I'm limited by 'ammo', and the object's weight affects my range and accuracy. But if I can cast the energy directly, as a pure spell, I'm free from those limits. And since I seem to have plenty of mana, I decided to try and create a new spell from scratch."
"Create a new spell?" she repeats, incredulous. "Arty, do you have any idea how insanely complex that is?"
"Really? I think I'm almost there, though," Arthur replies with genuine surprise.
Ellie throws her hands up in exasperation. "You're unbelievable. Fine. Show me."
"Sure, but it's not quite there yet," Arthur says, frustrated. "I'm missing the final 'shape' of the spell. The trigger mechanism."
Ellie frowns, trying to help. "A 'shape'? I don't get it. But if you need to see how something works, why not start with a weapon? Analyze how it's built, how it feels?"
Her words hit him like a lightning bolt. A weapon... a certain spirit detective…
"A what?" Elisa asks, but Arthur doesn't hear her, already lost in a flood of memories from his past life.
In that anime, it was just a story, but here... magic is real. And I'm good at it. I remember how he did it... he focused all his energy into a tiny point on his fingertip, like aiming a gun, and then... a mental trigger.
"I've got it!" Arthur shouts, a brilliant grin lighting up his face.
He points his index finger at the empty sky. Ellie watches, confused, as he closes his eyes in concentration. She sees a faint warmth begin to gather at his fingertip, a slight distortion in the air. The warmth coalesces into a small, impossibly bright bead of golden light.
Arthur's eyes snap open. "This spell... I'll call it the 'Leigan'!"
As he speaks the name, the bead of light erupts from his finger. It doesn't just fly; it punches a hole through the sky with an incredible, soundless speed, leaving a thin, searing trail of light behind it. It vanishes into the clouds in an instant.
Ellie stands frozen, her mouth agape. The sheer, silent power of what her five-year-old brother just did sends a genuine shiver of fear down her spine.
"What in the world was that?!" Ellie says, her eyes still wide with a mixture of fear and awe.
"That," Arthur says with a tired but deeply satisfied grin, "was the Leigan. My first original spell. I wonder if anything like it already exists?"
"I've never heard of a spell like that," she admits, shaking her head. "But then again, I don't know much about magic."
"I still need a lot of practice to master it," Arthur continues, already analyzing. "I need to learn how to calibrate the power. But the main thing is, I can cast it without a catalyst. Though..."
"Though what?"
"It's a mana hog," he says simply. "But I think I can make it more efficient. No need to use a full-power blast every time. It's better to have control, especially if I ever have to use it on a person without... well, you know."
"That's... a very smart way to think about it," Ellie replies, looking at her five-year-old brother with a newfound respect.
And so, Arthur spends the next few days obsessively practicing his new technique.