13 - Behind a Name
The best way to describe everyone’s expression toward Valrion was sheer terror—it even came from his mother, which brought sorrow to his heart, making him question whether this was the right decision. When he glanced up, Octavia’s eyes darted around the room as if asking, What should I do? Should I still hold this child or hurl him toward the fireplace?
He didn’t expect to feel so small and vulnerable, like a crippled lamb surrounded by hungry wolves, but what was done was done. Firmus had made everyone aware of a possibility no one had considered before: that the newborn son of the family was the fire wielder.
“What are you talking about?” Valrion’s father asked as he stood up. “There’s no way Valrion—”
“Your face speaks otherwise, Cassius,” Firmus interrupted. “You’re also considering it, aren’t you?”
Another silence settled over the room. Fina covered her mouth with her hand, realizing Firmus’ statement was more true than false. Sergius tilted his head toward the front door, clearly trying to hide his face. Valrion’s father glared at Firmus as if ready to punch him, even though it was clear that Firmus was just as baffled as everyone else. Valrion’s mother had turned, her back now facing the hallway again, while Octavia still wore the same confused expression.
“How is that possible? Elemental power would only manifest after the age of thirteen,” Valrion’s mother asked, confirming Valrion’s speculation that this was, indeed, an anomaly. At least there was one thing that hadn’t changed from Eru.
“If it was Valrion, why did he light the fireplace? He’s only three months old. He shouldn’t be aware of what to touch. He could have burned something completely random like Sergius again—wait, so was it really him who hurt Sergius?” Fina, who hadn’t spoken since Valrion arrived in the common room, finally said. Yet another confirmation of the speculation—this time regarding his age.
Perhaps, in the future, he wouldn’t have to wonder if his initial guess had been correct. So far, it seemed to be the case.
“If it was someone seeking revenge on Cassius, why would they light the fireplace instead of something else? I don’t know—maybe set this whole house on fire?” Firmus retorted, causing Fina to shut her mouth in defeat. Based on her last words, she must have already figured out the flaw in her theory.
“An elemental power typically manifests when the person is in a dire situation,” Sergius said, finally showing his face. Among everyone, he was the only one who didn’t look too bothered. “The fire burned me the moment that basket hit Valrion’s head. Cassius, Adrianna, this might be true.”
Valrion’s mother shook his head. “I don’t—I’m not sure what to say.”
“We could spend the next few weeks speculating about the perpetrator, interrogating everyone we suspect and risking insulting each one of them, or I could bring some manashards tomorrow and work on something within our reach.” Firmus stood up, looking at the couple across from him. His height slightly towered over Valrion’s father despite being much thinner. “Will you give me permission to check Valrion’s mana?”
A heavy stillness hung in the air once more, followed by another share of glances from everyone in the room as if hoping to draw more words from each other.
Valrion had never heard of mana checking before. The elemental wielders he knew would reveal or speak of their powers whenever they chose to, so he couldn’t help but recall the mentions of the evokers, the Liberators, the escapees, and the kingdomThe elemental wielders were treated differently today, but he still couldn’t determine how and why.
What were manashards, and how could they be used to measure his mana? Would they be crystal-like, changing colors upon contact with his skin? If his family agreed to Firmus’ request, it would be his first experience of tasting Eru’s advancement after a thousand years. Though he would always be skeptical, the prospect excited him.
“All right,” Valrion’s father said after a while. Valrion could tell his father was clenching his jaw, and that alone spoke volumes. His father didn’t want to get him involved, but he had to make a wiser choice.
Firmus nodded his head in agreement before eyeing everyone in the room. “Regardless of the result, we’ll figure things out, but keep your guard up for now. We can’t afford to let Valrion accidentally burn down the house while everyone’s asleep.”
[Main Quest updated: A New Era]
[EXP +25]
[A New Era
➤ Your family doesn’t ridicule your fire power, but they seem to be on edge over the possibility that you’re wielding an elemental power. Is it because you’re too young, and they’re afraid of you losing control, or is there something bigger they’re hiding?]
[Level: 2]
[EXP: 110/115]
[Health: 239/281]
[Mana: 23/25]
Valrion agreed with the Handbook, although it was an unnecessary acknowledgment since it only recorded his feelings. These doubts were his own. While many of his preliminary beliefs about the new Eru had proven true, a thousand years of history left much to be uncovered. If he were in their position—unaware that a child was actually an old soul—he would be just as cautious.
Another notable detail was his mana. It had decreased by three points when he accidentally blasted Sergius and by two this time. He had initially assumed both fires were of the same intensity, but the one with Sergius might have been stronger as it had been fueled by stress.
“I should take my leave then. Tomorrow, I’ll visit around the same time,” Firmus said after a moment’s respite. There were exchanges of good evenings, take cares, and other good wishes as Sergius opened the door for the guest to pass through.
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Firmus’ departure didn’t change much of the situation. Still glued to the couch, Valrion’s mother buried her face in her hands. Fina hurriedly sat beside her, rubbing her back, while Octavia walked closer, bringing Valrion along. His father remained in the same position as before, and Sergius stood by the door, watching everyone with a neutral look.
“Don’t overthink it, Lady Adrianna. Would you like something to drink? How about some hot tea?” Fina asked, glancing up at Valrion’s father. “What about you, Sir?”
“Two cups of chamomile tea would be lovely,” he replied.
“All right. I’ll prepare it right away.” Fina gave Valrion’s mother a gentle tap on the back before getting up and leaving the room.
“Ironic, isn’t it?” Sergius walked a few steps just to be closer to the group. “If Valrion really is blessed with an elemental power.”
Valrion’s father sighed before following Fina. It was apparent these people didn’t want him to wield elemental power, but the question remained: why? The more the conversation unfolded, the more puzzled he became.
“Sorry, I’m just being a little dramatic. Don’t mind it,” Valrion’s mother said at last. As she stood up, she managed to put on a smile—a similar one to what she had when carrying him after being struck by the woven basket. She gestured toward Octavia, signaling the maid to hand over her son.
“You should lie down in your room. It’s been quite a day. I’ll bring your tea over,” Octavia offered. Valrion would have given the same advice, even if it meant only twenty-four hours of peace before Firmus arrived with the manashards.
“Right. Thank you, Octavia,” Valrion’s mother muttered before walking away. Although sounding like she was on the brink of collapsing, her embrace around Valrion’s body wasn’t weakened at all.
Usually, his mother would feed him while sitting at the corner of the bed. This time, she did so only after propping a pillow against the headboard and leaning back. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, allowing him to finish. She must have been utterly exhausted, and, as out of place as it might have seemed, he felt terrible for constantly needing her care.
“Hey.”
A few minutes later, his mother stirred, her eyes fluttering open as his father spoke. The man carried a cup of what must be the chamomile tea in each hand and placed one on the nightstand to his mother’s right, the one closer to the cradle.
“Hi,” his mother replied with a strained smile.
His father sipped his drink, looking at both him and his mother. “You look troubled. What’s on your mind?”
“Aren’t we all troubled?” His mother chuckled, throwing her head back. “Nothing much. I was just thinking about the dream I had before finding out I was pregnant. The one where I visited what looked like a paradise in the sky. That white-haired woman, my guide, was beautiful beyond words.”
Valrion’s heart skipped a beat. A wish surged within him—that the person in his mother’s dream was somehow connected to him. A paradise in the sky was one way to describe Heaven, and many of the female gods had white hair. Asterra and his mother were two examples.
“The one who said you would have a son and must name him Valrion. A week later, you got pregnant,” his father finished the story.
If Valrion’s heart had jolted before, now it was racing with excitement. This was the fastest his prayer had ever been answered—that the dream was indeed connected to him.
Generally, gods didn’t meddle in mortal affairs. Like every creature with moral reasoning in the universe, humans had free will. It was within their consciousness to choose kindness or evil, knowing they would be the ones to live through the consequences. However, on rare occasions when humans held deep conviction, gods couldn’t help but fulfill their yearnings.
Their problems wouldn’t miraculously be solved. If someone had been robbed, gods wouldn’t simply plant a sack of gold in front of their door. Instead, they might nudge them to meet new people or move to another city—leading them to better opportunities they never could have imagined. This process was called the “crossroads of events”. It could come as a whisper within a human’s mind, or, if truly needed, as a dream.
Someone from Heaven visiting Valrion’s mother in a dream with a specific message suggested that his rebirth into this family was purposeful. He had hoped the Handbook would keep track of such information, but perhaps it was insufficient. There had been cases where Valrion thought the Handbook should have given him EXP, but nothing happened.
“Because of that dream, everyone believed he would be an extraordinary child. I thought he would be a genius—a famous painter or a skillful blacksmith like you,” his mother continued. “It never crossed my mind that he would manifest his mana before he could even crawl.”
“We’ll know soon,” his father said. Though his frown was subtle, it was there—his father seemed to have much more to say but chose to keep it to himself. Perhaps he didn’t want to worry his wife.
As expected, Valrion passed out the moment his mother placed him back in the cradle. The long slumber from the night before might have been a result of psychological shock because, over the span of nine hours, he woke up three times—in intervals of three, two, and four hours, respectively. Each time, his mother would wake up to feed him or simply rock him across the room.
He wondered why his father kept sleeping while his mother was suffering, but he couldn’t criticize people that easily. Some people needed uninterrupted rest to get through their days, and his father had a full-time job. Who knew how much time it took to travel to the workshop? His mother might have had another occupation on the side, but as far as he knew, she seemed to have more free time to care for the house.
Before he knew it, morning had arrived. This time, it was his mother greeting him instead of Octavia, though she had been unable to do so yesterday because of the elderly fraudster. The day followed its usual pattern: his mother cleaned him up, changed his clothes, fed him, placed him back in the cradle, and applied ointment to the bump on his head.
[Level: 2]
[EXP: 110/115]
[Health: 266/281]
[Mana: 25/25]
[Status: Injured] had gone.
Considering how fast he healed, the ointment must have been made with high-quality ingredients. To put it in perspective, if yesterday felt like his skin had been sliced open, today was more like an ant bite sting. The wound should heal completely in two or three days, though he had grown overly focused on numbers, noticing it seemed to increase slower the better he got.
He remembered what Sergius had said: how his mother would take him outside and let him soak up the sunlight for fifteen minutes after feeding. That didn’t happen today, and he assumed his mother was afraid another accident might occur. In their minds, there was still a possibility that the fire wielder was an outsider wandering near the house.
From daylight to afternoon, his activities consisted of napping, feeding, chewing on the knotted cloth, interacting with his mother or Octavia, who occasionally showed up, and staring at the ceiling. He would never stop being grateful for falling asleep so often, as it kept him from going insane with boredom or counting the hours until Firmus arrived.
[Thursday, March 11, 5723]
[18:48]
It should be anytime now, he thought after waking up in the evening. Just as the Handbook disappeared from his sight, his mother entered the room and took him in her arms. There could be a million reasons for her to bring him outside, but he knew there was only one for now. His heart raced with each step she took down the stairs.
Many crucial moments had taken place in the common room, so he expected to be taken there again. Instead, his mother headed toward the kitchen, where everyone in the house was waiting, including Firmus.