It's been six years since I found myself in this new world, growing into my small frame but carrying the mind of someone who has seen far more than most children could imagine. Every day I train, pushing myself closer to the edge of power that I once knew. Today, I'm focusing on strengthening my mana heart, forcing mana to flow in rhythm with my heartbeat, saturating every fiber of my body.

"Orion! Look, look!" Elara's voice cuts through my concentration, her excitement breaking through the quiet rhythm of my breathing.

I look up to see her standing a few feet away, hands outstretched as a swirling sphere of water forms above her palms. Her face is lit up, pride shining in her eyes as she raises the water orb higher, lifting it skyward. The ball of water rises like a slow rocket, its edges shimmering in the sunlight, looking almost alive as it glistens.

"Watch this!" she cries, and the water orb begins to lose its form, the edges blurring and thinning as it reaches its peak. Slowly, the orb dissolves, spreading like mist, and then, in one powerful motion, the water plummets back down as a heavy, concentrated rainfall—right on top of me.

I sigh as the cold water drenches me, and Elara giggles wildly, holding her sides as if this is the funniest thing in the world.

"Elara," I say, trying to keep my face neutral, "some of us are actually trying to train here."

She laughs harder. "It's just water, Ori! Besides, you looked too serious. I thought you needed a little… refreshment!"

I shake my head, brushing my dripping hair out of my face. "A little refreshment? This is your idea of a little?"

"Maybe I overdid it," she says with a grin, attempting to look innocent and failing entirely.

I cross my arms, eyeing her with a smirk. "Maybe? Elara, one day you'll be strong enough to pull storms from the sky. But you don't have to start by drenching me."

She gives a triumphant little shrug. "I wanted you to see what I could do! You're always so busy with that 'mana heart' thing. I can actually do real magic, you know."

"Is that so?" I say, raising an eyebrow.

Elara's face shifts to that proud, playful expression again. "You bet! I've been practicing. Soon, I'll be able to do way more than just rain on you."

"Good," I say, smiling despite myself. "Because I'll need you at your best one day. You might be the strongest water mage in the family soon, if you keep going."

Her cheeks flush with pride. "You think so?"

"Of course. Just…maybe try to focus that aim a little better next time."

She laughs, then picks up a smooth stone from the ground, spinning it in her hands. "But seriously, Ori… when do you think you'll show me how you do it? The whole mana heart thing? You're always working on it, and it looks…" she searches for the word, "well, intense."

I glance down, watching my hand for a moment, feeling the pulse of mana threading through my heart. "One day, Elara. For now, you focus on your water. I'll handle the serious stuff."

She scrunches her nose at that, rolling her eyes. "You always say that. One day I'll surprise you, Ori."

I give her a nod, the shadow of a smile playing on my lips. "I don't doubt it. But maybe save the surprises until after I dry off?"

"Elara... Ori... what are you two doing out here?" Anara's voice carries across the backyard, firm and slightly exasperated as she steps through the door. Her gaze falls on me, drenched from head to toe, water dripping from my hair and pooling at my feet.

She pauses, taking in the sight, and then her eyes narrow in on Elara, who's trying, and failing, to put on an innocent face.

"Elara…" Anara's voice drops to that motherly tone that warns of trouble. "What happened here?"

Elara opens her mouth, shifting uncomfortably under Anara's sharp look. "It wasn't me, Mother! It's… well… it's rain!" she says, lifting her chin as if that might help her case.

"Rain?" Anara raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. "You expect me to believe that? Don't lie to me, missy. We're going to church today for your baptism. You should be focused on preparing yourself, not drenching your brother and making up stories!"

Elara's shoulders slump, and she looks down at her shoes, clearly caught but unwilling to admit it.

Anara sighs, kneeling down to meet Elara's eye level. "If you keep playing tricks like this, Elara, and if you lie like that… well, God may choose not to grant you His blessing today. You want His favor, don't you?"

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Elara's face contorts with worry, her innocent act gone in an instant. "But, Mother—"

"That's enough, Elara," Anara says firmly.

At this, I find myself speaking up, irritation rising in my chest. "So what if God doesn't grant her a blessing?" My voice comes out sharper than I intended, but I'm tired of this talk of blessings and punishments. "Would she lose something just because of that? Or be less valuable somehow?"

Anara's eyes flick to me, taken aback. I can feel her gaze trying to pierce through my words, but I don't back down.

"Whether she has a blessing or not, she's still Elara. She's still my sister. And she's still your daughter, isn't she?" My tone softens a little, but the firmness remains. "Remember that, Mother."

Anara's face softens, her stern expression melting into something gentler. "Of course she is, Ori," she says, almost as if the reminder was needed. "But it's important for her to be respectful, to learn about the things that matter in this world. And in our lives, faith is one of those things."

Elara, sensing the tension but still clutching a spark of mischief, looks between the two of us, then turns her wide, innocent eyes back to Anara. "So… does this mean I won't get my blessing?"

Anara lets out a long sigh, shaking her head as she smiles. "You might just receive one, Elara. But it'll be in spite of all your little pranks, not because of them."

I can't help but smirk at this, and Elara's face lights up with a tiny, victorious smile. Anara notices and sighs, her hands resting on her hips.

"Now go inside, both of you," she says, gesturing toward the house. "Ori, change out of those wet clothes before you catch a cold, and Elara… try not to make any more 'rain' indoors, understood?"

"Yes, Mother," Elara and I chorus, sharing a quick, mischievous look as we head inside.

As they leave the backyard, I glance back at Ori, his footsteps quiet as always. He's the picture of calm—a bit too calm for a boy his age—and, in a way, it unsettles me. I murmur to myself, just barely above a whisper, "I'm not as worried about Elara as I am about you…"

From the beginning, he's been so different, so unlike any child I've known. Even as a baby, he was silent. Other newborns cry to make their presence known; they scream and wail to be heard. But not Ori. He looked around with those big, clear eyes, observing more than participating, as if he didn't quite belong in this world.

Elara cried and laughed over every little thing, bright and lively as a summer breeze. When she scraped her knee or stumbled over a toy, there'd be tears, but then she'd break into that dazzling smile when comforted, bouncing back in moments. But Ori? He didn't cry when he fell, didn't laugh when given his favorite toy. It's as though he feels things deeper, almost too deeply, and yet… he keeps it all hidden, locked away somewhere I can't reach. The only time I've ever seen him cry is in his sleep. And even then, it's a silent, heart-wrenching thing that leaves him trembling in the night.

When Elara discovered her magic at four, it was as if the sun had broken through the clouds. She was practically bursting with pride, eager to show off her control over water, her small victories. She's quick to flaunt her progress with a laugh and an innocent boast, already talking about becoming a second-circle mage. Her joy is infectious, her path so… clear.

Ori, though… he's a different story. He told me he wanted to learn the mana heart technique, and I agreed, thinking it might bring out something, anything in him. But there's none of the excitement Elara has. He never brags, never even mentions his progress. In fact, I've never actually seen him practice it. No exercises, no sparring, nothing. He sits under that tree in the yard, meditating for hours, so still he could be mistaken for a statue. I sometimes wonder if he's even truly trying to learn the technique, or if he's lost in his own world, someplace far away from here.

And as much as I hate to admit it—even though I'm his mother—there's an ache in my heart, because there's a part of him I don't understand. He feels like a mystery I can't solve, a secret locked away that I may never uncover. I can't reach that quiet place where he's hidden. The mother in me should know, should understand, but with Ori, I sometimes feel as though I'm grasping at shadows.

That's why today matters so much. The baptism isn't just a rite of passage; it's a chance, perhaps the only one I'll get, to understand my son. To discover what sort of blessing has been bestowed upon him, to glimpse who he truly is. Maybe today will reveal something, anything, that might give me some insight into the boy he is… and the man he might one day become.

"Mother, we're ready!" Elara calls, bursting out of the house with her usual enthusiasm, practically dragging Orion along by the hand. Her cheeks are flushed with excitement, and there's a playful glint in her eyes that says she's more ready for an adventure than a formal ceremony.

Anara smiles warmly, taking in the sight of the two of them. "You both look lovely," she says, adjusting a stray strand of hair on Elara's head. "But remember, today is an important day. I expect both of you to be on your best behavior—no mischief." Her gaze lingers on Elara, who's nodding vigorously.

Elara straightens her shoulders and does her best impression of a serious expression. "Yes, Mother! I'll be on my absolute best behavior," she declares, clearly more proud of her words than the promise they hold.

Anara turns her gaze to Orion, eyebrow raised as she waits for his response. "And you, Ori?"

Orion glances away, half-shrugging. "Well… let's see," he says, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Not 'let's see,'" Anara corrects him, crossing her arms. "Be respectful. Address others with courtesy."

"That depends on them," Orion mutters under his breath, just loud enough for Anara to hear.

She stops, her eyes narrowing slightly. "What did you say?" There's a firmness in her voice, a motherly seriousness that doesn't leave much room for teasing.

Orion looks down, rocking back and forth on his heels as if he hadn't said a word. "Nothing," he replies innocently, with a slight swing of his head.

Anara exhales, shaking her head with a resigned smile. "One of these days, Ori, you'll surprise me by actually cooperating," she murmurs, half to herself.

Elara giggles, taking her brother's hand in both of hers. "Don't worry, Mother! I'll make sure he's on his best behavior," she promises, pulling Orion forward. "Come on, Ori! You'll be 'respectful,' won't you?"

Orion gives her a long-suffering look but lets himself be dragged along, glancing back at his mother with a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze. "I'll be… respectful. If they are," he adds quietly to Elara, who just gives him a wink, clearly delighted with herself.

With the two of them leading the way, Anara follows, casting a small prayer under her breath that today will go smoothly. Though, with these two, she knows that's a tall order.