CHAPTER 7 — FIVE MONTHS LATER
Five months passed quietly—quiet in a way that felt unreal after everything I had lived through. For the first time in both of my lives, days followed a pattern. A rhythm. A life I could almost call normal.
And yet, every morning when I woke up in my warm bed, staring at the clean ceiling painted in a soft shade of blue, a part of me always whispered:
Is this really mine?
Some days I answered yes.Some days I wasn't sure.
But I was learning.
Slowly.
THE HOUSE THAT BECAME HOME
The house didn't feel like a maze anymore. I knew every corner, every hallway, every slight creak in the wooden stairs. My room had changed too—no longer just a place prepared for a child who never returned, but a space that grew with me.
Books piled on my desk.Practice sheets with my handwriting covered the drawers.A small potted plant Ren insisted I take care of sat near the window.
Arin even hung a soft mana-light sphere above my bed so the room glowed faintly at night. "You didn't like the dark when you were small," she had whispered.
I didn't remember, but she wasn't wrong.Darkness reminded me of alleys, broken roofs, and stolen hours hiding from danger.
Light… felt safer.
LEARNING THE WORLD
Every morning, my mother sat with me at the dining table, a warm cup of herbal tea in her hand and a stack of books in mine.
At first I stumbled over letters, choking on syllables and shapes. But five months was enough to erase the fog. Now I could read names of cities, the history of Lythraven, details about mana zones, and reports from hunters who survived high-ranked dungeons.
I even learned to write my name in four different scripts, one used by humans, one by elves, one by dwarves, and one universal mana-script called "Atra Glyph"—a language used to carve spells and runes.
The first time I wrote a glyph for "light," the mana crystal on the table flickered as if responding. My mother clapped quietly, tears forming at the corners of her eyes.
"You're learning so fast," she murmured.
I didn't know how to explain that I had never had the chance before.Learning felt like breathing fresh air after drowning for too long.
THE WORLD THROUGH MY EYES
The city of Rayfall became a place of fascination.
I went outside every afternoon with Arin or sometimes my father when he wasn't on guild patrol. The marketplaces bustled with life—beastkin merchants flaunting their sharp fangs, dwarven blacksmiths shouting prices, elven mages demonstrating floating mana orbs to attract customers.
I learned how to bargain (badly).I learned which alleys were safe and which ones smelled suspicious.I learned the color patterns of different races' mana.
But more than anything—I learned I wasn't afraid to walk outside anymore.
On good days.
Some days the crowded noises froze me in place.Some days the shouting made my heart race.Some days the smell of burnt mana reminded me of a slum incident that nearly killed me.
But Arin held my wrist gently until the panic faded.
"We're here," she would whisper. "You're safe."
And strangely—I believed her.
THE FIRST SPARKS OF FIRE
My mana awakening happened quietly.
No dramatic flash.No beast roaring.Just a gentle heat inside my chest one morning when my father guided my breathing exercises.
He placed a hand behind my back. "Calm your breath. Feel your core."
I inhaled through my nose, long and slow.My chest tightened.Something warm stirred—like a candle catching flame.
Then—
A faint spark lit the air above my palm.
Fire.
A tiny drop of it.
Barely a flicker, but mine.
My father's eyes widened just a fraction—the only sign of shock he allowed himself. "Fire affinity," he murmured. "Rare in our family line."But he smiled. "A strong start."
Later, during evening meditation, something else stirred.
A whisper.A shape.A curve of shadow trailing along my fingertips.
My mother gasped softly when she saw it.
"Shadow affinity…" she whispered. "Not common. Not extraordinary. But extremely useful."
Dual affinity.
Not powerful enough to brand me a prodigy.Not weak enough to be forgettable.
Just rare enough to stand at the edge of something greater.
A strange edge.A subtle danger.
I liked it.
TRAINING — BUT NOT TOO MUCH
My father respected my pace.
We trained, yes—but gently.
Basic stances to strengthen my legs.Core breathing to stabilize inner mana.Stretching to repair the tight muscles from malnutrition.
Fire practice was simple—creating sparks, maintaining them for a second longer each day.
Shadow practice was trickier.
"It responds to emotion," my father noted the first time tendrils curled around my wrist during a nightmare. "So control will take time."
I didn't push myself.I didn't want to.Not yet.
While other hunter families trained their kids like elite soldiers, mine treated me like a sapling—fragile but growing.
Small steps.
My father's rule.
A WORLD BEYOND THE WALLS
Through reading and field trips, I understood the world far better now.
Aeren Thalla
A world born of mana currents that shaped civilizations.
Lythraven
The strongest continent, divided into six sovereign nations.
Rayfall
Our city—protected by three-layer mana barriers.
Mana Gates
Pocket worlds forming from mana pressure.
Hunters
Those who awakened their cores beyond White stage.
Races
Humans, elves, dwarves, beastkin, dragonblooded.
Kings and Queens
Powerful core users who ruled the continent.
This world was… incredible. Terrifying. Beautiful.
Sometimes I wondered how I survived the slums in such a world.Sometimes I wondered how I would survive the future.
SHIFTING DAYS
Five months was enough for routines to form:
Morning
Reading, writing, world history.
Midday
Light training or meditation.
Afternoon
Exploring the city with Arin or Ren.
Evening
Quiet dinner, family stories, father's tales of old hunts.
Night
Learning mana theory, watching mana screens, sometimes panic attacks, sometimes peaceful sleep.
I grew closer to each of them.
My mother's soft hands reminded me of warmth I forgot existed.
Arin was loud but protective — she always glared at anyone who stared at me too long.
Ren was a warm ball of chaos who believed I could fix every broken toy in the house.
My father…My father was a mountain.
Solid.Unmoving.But always there.
His presence was enough.
THE DREAM THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING
Five months after I joined the family, I began having strange dreams.
No — not dreams.
Whispers.
Faint, echoing lines in a language I didn't recognize.
Sometimes a shape of a beast — huge, shadowed, burning with red eyes — stared at me from the edge of my vision. I would wake up drenched in sweat, heart racing.
Shadow affinity made my dreams unstable.Fire affinity heated my blood.
My father noticed immediately.
"Your mana is awakening faster than expected," he said, kneeling in front of me. "Dual affinity can cause turbulence. Don't fear it."
I nodded, though I didn't fully understand.
The dreams weren't just random.
They were calling to me.
Something was waiting.
Something was watching.
VISITING THE HUNTER TOWER
One morning, Arin grabbed my wrist suddenly.
"Come on! We're going somewhere."
I blinked. "Where?"
"You'll see."
She dragged me out of the house, Ren following behind like an excited puppy.
We walked through two districts until we reached the towering structure that pierced the sky — the Hunter Guild Headquarters.
The building shimmered with mana. Floating spheres pulsed around it, measuring pressure fluctuations. Hunters in uniforms walked in and out, some carrying beast cores, some with glowing marks on their skin.
My breath caught.
This—This was another world entirely.
Arin grinned. "Welcome to the Hunter Tower!"
I swallowed. "Why are we here?"
"Because," she said solemnly, "you're part of a hunter family. And hunters have rights."
She pointed at the entrance.
"Inside, there's a registry where family members get identification cards—schools, markets, medical centers, all recognize it."
Ren added proudly, "I got mine when I turned five!"
I stared at the tower, cold sweat forming on my palm.
"I… don't know if I'm ready."
Arin's expression softened. She squeezed my hand gently.
"It's just a card. You're not becoming a hunter. You're joining your family."
My heart thudded.
Family.
Was it really okay for me to belong here?
After a long moment, I nodded.
Arin smiled.
THE REGISTRY
The inside of the tower was vast.
Mana lights floated overhead.Screens displayed dungeon gates fluctuating across the kingdom.Hunters lined up for missions, some laughing, some tense.
I kept close to Arin, the noise buzzing in my head.
At the registry counter, a beastkin receptionist smiled warmly at me.
"Name?"Her voice was soft, soothing.
I swallowed. "L-Liam."
"Full name."
My tongue hesitated.
Arin bent slightly and whispered, "It's okay. Say it."
I took a breath.
"Liam… Noir."
Noir — my family name.
The receptionist typed swiftly, then placed my palm over a mana scanner. The device hummed, analyzing my mana signature.
"Transparent core, dual affinity traces… interesting."
My heart jumped.
Arin squeezed my shoulder. "See? Normal."
I doubted that.Dual affinity wasn't "normal."
But it wasn't legendary either.
Just rare enough to whisper secrets but not shout destinies.
A good place to be.
The receptionist printed a glowing mana card and handed it to me.
"Welcome, Liam Noir."
I stared at the card.
My name.My family.My identity.
I was… someone.
THE RUMBLE
We stepped outside the tower when the ground suddenly trembled.
A low, guttural rumble rolled through the city.
Arin stiffened. "Mana pressure shift?"
Ren clung to her leg. "Big boom?"
Hunter alarms flared across the streets — blue lights blinking along the mana poles.
My heart hammered.
"What's happening?"
Arin's eyes narrowed. "A beast gate is opening."
"Inside the city!?" I panicked.
She shook her head. "No. Close to the border. But close enough that hunters will mobilize."
I exhaled shakily.
A cluster of hunters sprinted out of the guild, some with weapons drawn, some activating mana armor.
The ground trembled again — distant but powerful.
That's when it happened.
A flicker.
A whisper at the edge of my hearing.
Like claws dragging across metal.
My shadow wavered beneath me — trembling like something inside it was trying to wake.
I froze.
Arin noticed. "Liam? Are you okay?"
"I… I heard something."
"What?"
"I don't know."
But deep inside my chest, something stirred.
Something old.Something watching.
And it whispered one thing:
Soon.