Two years passed quickly. I was nine now, taller and thinner, with dark hair touching my shoulders. Inn chores filled my days - washing mugs, carrying wood, sweeping floors. But I always watched them. My parents. The man with fire at his fingertips. The woman who made water dance.
The man - strong arms, short beard - worked behind the bar. One snap, and flames jumped in his hand. They twisted into shapes: a dragon, a bird. Guests stared in wonder. "Magic!" they cried. He smiled. "Just practice." But I knew it was real power, red and hot.
In the kitchen, the woman moved smoothly. Water spilled from a bowl, turning into fish, flowers, faces. I watched for hours. She saw me looking. "Watch closely, boy. Water is patient." She showed simple tricks. A drop to put out fire. Lift water with your mind. I tried alone. Sometimes a small drop floated up. But it always fell back.
One morning, she said, "Come to town with me." The man nodded from the bar. "Be careful." We took a basket and walked the stone street. Town woke slowly. Carts rolled with vegetables, creaking under heavy loads. Sellers shouted prices from wooden stalls, their voices mixing with the clatter of hooves. People hurried to work - farmers with tools, women carrying baskets, kids chasing dogs. Smells filled the air: warm bread from bakeries, salty fish from the docks, sharp herbs from spice carts.
This was bigger than the inn, much bigger. Tall stone houses lined the streets, some with carved doors and flower boxes. Church towers rose high, bells ringing the hour. Market stalls stretched across the square - fruits piled high, cloth in bright colors, pots gleaming in the sun. People looked different - some pale like us, others tanned from fields. Long dresses swirled around women, beards hid men's faces, kids ran laughing between legs. Voices spoke in accents I never heard, laughing, arguing, trading coins.
She stopped at a fruit stand piled with red apples. "Apples and flour, please." The seller grinned, wiping sweat. "Good crops this year, thanks to elves in the west. Their green magic keeps the rains steady." Elves? Like in the cellar books? I stared hard at the shiny fruits, imagining tall figures in the distance.
We passed a blacksmith shop. Hammer hit iron with loud bangs, sparks flew like tiny stars. Heat poured out the open door. She whispered, "Dwarves from the east share their fire skills here. They teach the best forges." Sweat dripped down my back just watching. I asked, "What races live here?" She smiled softly. "Three main ones. The books will show you tonight. And more about magic too."
Back home that evening, she brought thick books from the cellar. Dust flew off the covers as she opened them. I sat on the floor, eyes wide, legs crossed. She spread a big map across our laps. "The world has clear lands. West belongs to elves. East to dwarves. South is for humans like us."
My finger followed the thick lines. "Elves in the west. Tall, pale, pointy ears. They love trees, bows, green magic. Gold hair, green clothes." The picture showed an elf shooting arrows at stars, trees bending toward him.
"Dwarves in the east. Short, strong, big beards. They mine gold, make weapons. Earth and metal magic. Red faces, axes at their sides." A drawing captured a dwarf hammering a glowing sword, rocks cracking open for ore.
"Humans in the south. We build cities, farm lands, trade everywhere. Our magic varies - fire, water, more. Like our Green Plains here, full of fields and rivers."
She pointed north, to a small patch marked in gold. "Up there, a small shared land. All races meet. Biggest city from the old era - Eteria. Towers still stand from ancient times, tall as mountains. Wars ended there long ago, treaties signed under those stones. Traders go there for big deals."
I nodded slow, touching Eteria's name. The book world came alive - no other races, just these three working together, sometimes fighting. I wanted to see those towers someday, walk streets where elves and dwarves passed humans.
Then she turned pages to magic. "Four basic elements stand out: water, fire, wind, earth. Everyone feels them a bit. Elves favor water and wind for their forests. Dwarves master fire and earth for mountains. Humans mix all."
She leaned closer. "But special elements exist too. Elves have plant magic - vines grow from their hands. Dwarves control metal, bending iron like clay. Rare ones pop up, like sound - waves that shatter stone. Not every mage gets one."
I leaned in, heart beating faster. "How do you learn it?"
Her eyes sparkled. "To master an element, you experience it deep. Feel its flow, understand its heart. Most people never do - they stop at tricks. But if you push, you enter the 'zone.' That's when you see its particles. Tiny bits dancing, like blue dust in water, red sparks in flame."
She touched the water page. "Like today, maybe. Practice hard, Nico. One day you'll be a great mage. Your fire from Lloyd, my water - mix them right, and worlds change."
The next day, I got brave. After lunch, I went to my dad behind the bar. "Can you teach me sword fighting?" He looked up, surprised, then grinned. "Sword, eh? Not just magic?" He took me to the yard behind the inn. Gave me a wooden stick. Showed holds - grip tight, feet apart. Swing slow first, then fast. Parry his strikes. Sweat poured down my face. My arms burned after ten swings. But he nodded. "Good start, boy. Practice daily. Sword and fire together - that's real power." We trained every afternoon after that. I got bruises, but stronger. Felt like a real fighter.
Days went on like that. I practiced both sword with my dad and magic in the kitchen by myself after chores, my ma was always laughing seeing me. Today was magic day. I filled a bowl, stared hard. "Rise," I thought, breathing slow. Drops lifted - one, two, three now. Steady. Then... I saw something new, clearer than before.
Tiny pieces. Like blue dust, glowing soft. They spun in the water, bright and fast, bumping each other. One broke free, touched my finger - cold, alive. I blinked hard. "Ma!"
She ran in from the hall. "What?" She looked at the bowl first. Drops hung in the air, still spinning. Then at me. My eyes were blue now, deep like a lake, glowing softly from inside.
She stopped moving, then smiled wide, eyes wet. "You see them. Water's tiny parts. The zone." Her hand rested warm on my shoulder. "Welcome, Nico."
Nico. My name, said soft like a secret. The man came in - Lloyd, she called him before over dinner. Saw my eyes, nodded slow. Patted my back firm. "Good job, son. Be careful out there. World is watching mages like us."
Lily - that was her full name, from a story she told once. My ma. Warmth filled my chest, strong and steady. I wasn't a little kid anymore. The world opened wide - races, elements, Eteria waiting. Magic woke in me, particles dancing in my sight.
But then, i reminded about them. A god, and a human-like creature.