"And with a final, ultimate, super epic beam of pure magic, Aneros defeated the invading Vamali!" Teerom finished recounting the tale, his eyes shining with the fervor of a true believer. He had been telling the story of Aneros, the third Quimnia, to Paley, who had been listening with such rapt intensity that he often forgot to react, waiting for Teerom to continue.

  "But how," Paley asked, his voice barely a whisper, "how did he combine the magic types?"

  "That's the mystery, isn't it?" Teerom sighed, leaning back against the cottage wall. "No one knows for sure. But he wasn't the first to do it. It probably takes a lot out of you, because he disappeared right after that. Most people say he died, but I like to think he went on to live happily with his love interest."

  "Love interest?"

  "You know, best girl?" Teerom’s voice softened. "I love stories with a good ending, where the hero gets the girl and everything is peaceful. I bet Aneros and his companion got that kind of ending."

  "That's good. I think."

  Teerom nudged him gently. "You can speak your mind, you know."

  "Is there nothing else about Aneros? Is that really where his story ends?"

  "Well," Teerom scrambled to pull a thick, battered volume from a satchel, its pages soft with age. "There's a final message. It's from his companion, Calina. She wrote down these words: To you, the first and the last... To save us all, it will be you. Remind her about me if she forgets. I'm sure she'll fall for me instead." He looked at the perplexed Paley. "A lot of people say she was recording his dying words, but I say no! The first part sounds like what the other Quimnia said. The second half was probably Aneros talking back. Maybe she was just reminiscing."

  "Maybe." Paley took a moment to digest the final chapter of the saga. "Something that big… it's hard to imagine it happening somewhere in this world."

  "I know, right? We'd be toast if a Demon Invasion happened today. Though," Teerom added with a grin, "I suppose now that you're here, we might just be fine."

  A small, still-unnatural smile touched Paley's lips. "Yeah. I'll try keep you all safe."

  Later that day, after insisting on helping Madella with the chores, Paley took a few moments for himself outside the cottage, gazing at the afternoon sun. Madella was fond of the sun. She had taught him incredible things - that it was immense despite its small appearance, and that it was just another star, like the ones that dotted the night sky. The part he struggled most to grasp was that their entire world was orbiting it - a fact that made his head spin whenever he tried to truly picture it.

  "A super epic white beam... Combining magic types..." Paley murmured to himself. He set a flame ablaze above his hand, watching it dance. "How did you do all that, Aneros?" It took a decent amount of focus just to maintain the small fire. He tried to expand it, but only managed a few inches before the effort became too great.

  "Hello."

  He turned to see Rauba standing a few feet away, her presence so quiet he hadn't noticed her approach. She seemed to have been there for some time.

  "Hello," he answered politely, extinguishing the flame.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Uh, I'm trying to see how far I can take my magic."

  "Is that it?" Her question was innocent, delivered with the bluntness of a child who didn't realize it might sting.

  "Yeah..." he sighed.

  "You're not moving it right." She raised her hand, and a roaring flame, two or three times the size of his, burst into existence. "Your mana."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Don't just focus on the fire," she explained, her crimson eyes fixed on her own flame. "Focus on what goes into the fire."

  He tried it, but this time, no fire erupted at all.

  She huffed, a small, impatient sound. "Wait. You still have to focus on the fire, but after that, you focus just on the mana going into it." He tried again. His flame erupted, almost matching hers in size, but it was wild and difficult to control. "Then you have to focus on the fire again to hold it." Her teaching methods were erratic, but he appreciated the sentiment.

  "Thank you, Rauba. I didn't realize you were a Fire Mage," he said, trying to spark a conversation.

  "Not yet."

  "I meant your Magic Type."

  "Oh. Yeah."

  An awkward silence settled between them, but he didn't dislike it. There was something about her straightforwardness and natural quietness that set him at ease. He processed her advice. She's asking me to focus on two things at once, moving my attention back and forth. He gave it another try, pumping mana into the flame, then stabilizing it, then feeding it more. The process exhausted him after just ten minutes.

  "You're doing better," she said, offering a single, absentminded clap.

  "Thanks." He sat down to recover. Using magic caused no physical strain, but running low on mana left him with an exhaustion that felt bone-deep.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  "Are you going with Mother to the city?" she asked, taking a seat beside him in the grass.

  "Yeah. I thought it'd be good to get a lay of the land. Then maybe I could go on my own sometimes, without having to trouble her."

  "You're very kind."

  "Oh. Thanks, Rauba. You're nice too." The conversational barrier between them was thin and comfortable. It was genuinely nice.

  "Adimia is jealous of you."

  It was no longer nice. Paley waited for her to elaborate.

  "He's training harder now. He's calling you his rival."

  "He's barely spoken to me."

  "He doesn't hate you," she clarified. "He's just a bit dumb. He thinks rivals can't be friends."

  "Why does he think of me as a rival?"

  "He has no magic."

  "...Isn't everyone supposed to have magic?"

  "A demon took his away when he was my age."

  Demons. The word rang a distant, chilling bell deep within Paley's mind.

  Rauba continued, "He sees you as his rival because you're the opposite. He has no magic. You have all of it."

  "I see. Is he taking it badly?"

  "No. He's really happy. He was doing push-ups earlier while smiling."

  "That's a relief," Paley said, his thoughts turning inward. He desperately wanted this family to accept him. "What do you think of me, Rauba?"

  "You're lucky."

  "Ah. That's fair," he nodded in awkward agreement.

  "But you're nice," she added, her voice soft. "So I'm happy you're my brother."

  Those words landed with more weight than she could have intended. A profound warmth spread through Paley's chest. He smiled, the expression still fragile but real, and nodded. "It was nice talking, Rauba. I'm going to get back to making some beds for everyone."

  "Okay." She watched him go before discreetly producing a small flame above her own hand. "Maybe we can learn together," she whispered to herself.

  As he walked back to the cottage, he took in the scene around him. Bacha and Jurie were helping Madella hang clothes to dry, their laughter mingling with the scent of clean linen. Adimia was arguing with Reben while they pretend-fought as knights. And Teerom was supervising Amasha's bug-catching expedition, his brow furrowed in thought, likely designing a new way to improve their lives.

  'I shouldn't get too attached', a cold, foreign thought whispered in his mind. He dismissed the familiar fear of love's fragility. 'I'll believe in them. I think... this can be my life now'. It was an insignificant moment in their daily routine, but for Paley, it was a long stride forward. He would let go of whoever he used to be.

  A sudden sense of clarity washed over him. But his newfound peace shattered when he caught, in the corner of his eye, Bacha stumbling. Jurie caught her just before she hit the ground. Paley jogged over, his heart lurching. Rauba, noticing too, followed silently.

  "What's wrong with Bacha?" Paley asked as Madella took the small girl from Jurie. She was panting heavily, her face flushed.

  "She was like this last night, but she got over it so quickly, I didn't think to tell you mother! I'm sorry!" Jurie cried, tears welling in her eyes.

  "Sweetheart, it's not your fault. Let's just help her. She's burning up," Madella said, pressing her palm to Bacha's forehead. "How bad was it last night?"

  "Nowhere near this bad," Jurie whispered, her voice trembling with the memory of Teerom's near-fatal sickness years ago.

  "Should I cool her down?" Paley asked, panic rising in his chest.

  "Slowly. Not too quick," Madella instructed.

  Paley pressed his hands to Bacha's face, concentrating with all his might. He gradually reduced her fever with cool Water Magic, alleviating her immediate discomfort, but he could feel that the source of the illness remained untouched. They carried her to the bed he had built for her. The sheets quickly grew damp with sweat and his water, so he continued to keep her cool while Jurie wiped her brow. The other children gathered around, their playful energy replaced by a heavy, fearful silence.

  "We have to do something," Teerom said, his voice tight with worry.

  "Paley... Colder, please," Bacha rasped.

  "Of course - hold on-"

  "No, no more cold," Madella interjected, gritting her teeth. "If only I'd learned some healing spells!"

  Loss. The feeling screamed from a deep, hidden part of Paley. The thought of losing Bacha, this bright little girl he had only just begun to see as a sister, was an agony he couldn't bear.

  "Healing Magic," he repeated Madella's words, his focus sharpening. "Can that help her?"

  Adimia's eyes lit up. "Paley, you're a Quimnia! Use Healing Magic!"

  Their hopeful eyes all turned to him. He focused his mana into his hands, willing it to become Healing Magic, picturing Bacha healthy and smiling. Nothing happened. He had taken his focus off cooling her, and she began to moan, sweating even more. He quickly reapplied the cooling water. He had failed. The one thing that defined him - being the Quimnia - was useless when it mattered most. A cold dread washed over him. Were they going to abandon him now?

  "I'll go find a doctor," Madella said, her voice strained as she stood up.

  "We don't have the money, Mother," Teerom reminded her gently.

  "I'll find a way," she said, giving him a sad smile that didn't reach her eyes. A flash of memory - a beautiful, sad elf woman with the same smile - shot through Paley's mind.

  "No. Don't go," he cried, the words torn from him. "Don't give up something for a price like that."

  Madella froze, the color draining from her face. 'How could he know?' The look in his eyes wasn't guesswork; it was grim recognition. A deep sorrow filled her as she realized the horrors this child must have endured to recognize such a desperate choice in a stranger's eyes.

  "I'm going to learn Healing Magic. At any cost," Paley declared, his face growing serious, his eyes holding a cold focus that aged him. "How do I do it?"

  "Books," Teerom said immediately. "Grimoires. If we can find a Healing Magic grimoire, you can use it. You're a Quimnia, it's guaranteed!"

  "How would we buy such a thing? They're incredibly expensive!" Madella finally broke, tears streaming down her face.

  "We'll steal it," Paley stated, the words coming out far too naturally.

  "No! If you get caught, they'll hurt you!"

  "We won't get caught," Teerom said, his voice a mask of confidence to reassure her.

  "I just need someone who knows where the grimoire is," Paley insisted, his resolute gaze meeting Madella's. "Let me do this. I'm not strong like you. But I won't give up."

  Teerom put a hand on Paley's shoulder. "Every second we waste here is another second Bacha suffers. Let's go, Paley."

  Madella held them back one last time. "Please... come back safe," she begged. Teerom hugged her, and she pulled an awkward Paley into the embrace too. "Save Bacha."

  With that final request, they set off.

  "I should go too!" Adimia tried to follow, but Jurie held him back. "Didn't you hear Paley? They can't risk being spotted and you're a loudmouth!"

  Teerom and Paley ran, their footsteps pounding against the dirt path leading toward the high walls of Gouon.

  "Listen," Teerom said, his breath coming in short bursts. "We'll tell the guards we have an emergency and need supplies. They should let us in. The real trouble is the library. It'll be closing soon. We have to get there before it's locked, find the grimoire, and get out."

  They ran, the dirt path pounding beneath their feet. Paley's mind, usually was now single-pointed. Aneros had saved the world with a colossal beam. He just needed to steal a book to save a single girl. It felt like a pitiful, desperate echo of the legend; it was all he had right now.