The carriage ride back from the city felt longer than the journey there.
No one spoke. The children who had received magic were allowed to sit closer to the front, where the ride was smoother. Those of us who hadn't were placed toward the back, where every bump in the road was felt through the wooden seat.
I didn't mind.
I kept replaying the moment in my mind — the crystal glowing, the priest waiting, the page staying blank.
In the end, the officials had spoken quietly among themselves before announcing the result.
"Magic presence detected," the priest said, his tone neutral. "But too faint to be classified. Below Level E."
Below Level E.
It wasn't a rejection. It was worse.
I was being told I was barely anything at all. I was supposed to rewrite my story today, but all I can think of is how my life is becoming like the previous one. Was my dream even real? Did I really meet the snow goddess? A goddess kissing a mere human is crazy. Maybe I just imagined it all.
When I reached home, my mother was waiting at the door.
She smiled the moment she saw me, but her eyes searched my face.
"Well?" she asked gently.
I shook my head, unable to hide my disappointment.
My father stood behind her, arms crossed.
"Nothing?" he asked.
"Something," I said.
"Just… too little. The crystal ball glowed, but nothing appeared. I might have very little magic," I answered with tears in my eyes.
They didn't say anything for a moment.
My mother pulled me into a hug anyway.
"That's alright," she said. "Magic isn't everything."
My father nodded. "You're alive. You're healthy. That matters more."
I nodded too.
But inside, something felt unfinished.
---
I started visiting the village library every day.
It was a small building, half stone and half wood, filled with donated books from travelers and retired scholars. Most were old, some damaged, many incomplete.
I searched for anything about Eternal Slumber.
The curse was mentioned only a few times.
A condition caused by rare dark creatures. Victims entered a state between sleep and death. The body lived, but the mind was sealed away.
"No cure recorded," most texts said.
The monster that bit Neo was described in one dusty book.
A Nightwing Imp.
Rare. Avoids humans. Lives deep within ancient forests or abandoned mana-rich lands.
Last recorded sighting: over a hundred years ago.
I closed the book slowly.
The forest we lived near had always been considered safe.
Apparently, it wasn't.
---
A year passed.
I worked with my father in the carpentry shop during the mornings, helped my mother in the fields in the afternoon, and spent my evenings in the library.
My parents watched me quietly.
One night, my mother sat beside me while I was reading.
"You don't sleep much," she said.
"I'm fine," I replied.
She hesitated. "You don't have to fix everything alone."
"I know."
But I still felt like I had to try.
---
The day I got lost started normally.
I went to the eastern edge of the forest to buy treated wood from a trader who gathered fallen mana-touched trees.
I followed the marked path.
At least, I thought I did.
The fog rolled in slowly, thick and heavy, and when I realized the trees around me didn't look familiar, it was already too late.
The ground gave way beneath my feet.
I fell.
---
I woke up in darkness.
Cold stone pressed against my back. The air smelled damp and stale.
A dungeon.
Natural or artificial, I couldn't tell.
I stood slowly, heart racing.
Something moved.
A shape emerged from the shadows.
Large.
Green.
A giant goblin.
Its body was thick with muscle, its skin rough like bark. One eye was milky white, the other sharp and yellow.
It grinned.
I ran.
The tunnels twisted and turned. The ground was uneven. I tripped, scraped my arm, barely got up in time to avoid a heavy club smashing into the floor.
I turned down a narrow passage.
Dead end.
The goblin blocked the exit.
It charged.
Pain exploded across my shoulder as it struck me.
I hit the wall and slid down.
Blood dripped from my mouth.
"I'm going to die," I thought.
Something cold brushed my hand.
A hilt.
It wasn't there before.
A sword had formed beside me — snow-white blade, light blue handle, faintly glowing.
I grabbed it.
Swung wildly.
Missed.
But the goblin recoiled.
It hesitated.
I ran past it and didn't look back.
---
I collapsed near the dungeon entrance.
Three people stood there.
Two men and a woman.
The woman was tall and strong, with animal-like, sharp eyes and clawed gloves. A beastwoman.
One man carried a bow.
The other glowed faintly with healing magic.
They rushed to me.
"What happened?" the healer asked.
"Goblin," I whispered.
They exchanged looks and ran inside.
I blacked out.
---
I woke up outside, wrapped in a cloak.
The beastwoman sat nearby, cleaning her weapon.
The archer leaned against a tree.
The healer knelt beside me.
"You're lucky," he said. "That goblin regenerates."
"I know," I muttered.
They laughed softly.
"You scared it off?" the archer asked.
I nodded weakly.
"With that?" the beastwoman pointed to the sword beside me.
"I don't know where it came from," I said.
They studied me more carefully now.
"Have you attended the academy?" the healer asked.
"I couldn't," I said. "My magic was too low."
He frowned.
"That doesn't make sense."
The beastwoman crossed her arms. "Maybe no one taught him how to use it."
The archer tilted his head. "Or maybe he's suppressing it without knowing."
The healer nodded slowly. "You should get re-examined."
I looked at the sword.
And for the first time…
I believed them.