The following morning, the air in the small cottage was heavy with silence. Sunlight filtered through the cracked window, dust motes swirling in the golden light. Lian sat at the wooden table, his head resting on his hands, staring blankly at the half-eaten loaf of bread in front of him. His parents moved around the kitchen, quietly preparing for the day, but their glances toward him were heavy with concern.
“Lian,” his mother said softly, breaking the silence. “You’ve barely touched your breakfast. Are you feeling alright?”
Lian raised his eyes to meet hers, and for the first time, Aria saw the raw frustration in them. He shook his head, pushing the plate away. “I’m fine, Mama. I just don’t feel hungry.”
Eron, who was sharpening tools by the fireplace, stopped mid-motion. “This about the mana again?” he asked, his voice gentle but direct.
Lian hesitated, then nodded. “I don’t get it, Papa. Everyone else can do magic—simple things, at least. Even the little kids can light candles or make flowers bloom. But I… I can’t do anything. No matter how hard I try, it’s like there’s nothing there.”
Aria exchanged a glance with Eron, her heart aching for her son. She walked over and knelt beside him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Lian, you are not defined by your magic. There’s so much more to you than mana.”
“But that doesn’t matter to anyone else!” Lian burst out, standing abruptly. His voice cracked, and tears welled in his eyes. “Everyone sees me as a failure, Mama. The other kids laugh at me. They call me useless. And maybe… maybe they’re right.”
Eron stood and crossed the room in a few strides, his towering figure casting a shadow over Lian. He knelt to meet his son’s gaze, his expression firm but kind. “You listen to me, son. You are not a failure. Magic isn’t everything. Strength, courage, determination—those are what make a person truly powerful. And you have all of those in you.”
“But what if that’s not enough?” Lian whispered, his voice barely audible.
“It will be,” Eron said, his voice steady. “And even if it feels like the world is against you, know that your mother and I will always believe in you.”
Lian nodded reluctantly, though the weight of his doubts remained heavy on his chest.
---
A Spark of Hope
Later that day, Aria suggested something she hoped might lift Lian’s spirits. “Why don’t we practice magic together?” she said with a smile. “Maybe we just need to find the right approach.”
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Lian hesitated. “But I’ve already tried so many times…”
“Then we’ll try again,” Aria said firmly. “Sometimes it takes a little longer to find the right path.”
Out in the backyard, Aria gathered a few simple items—a candle, a bowl of water, and a small plant. She knelt beside Lian, the sunlight catching the strands of silver in her hair.
“Let’s start with something easy,” she said, lighting the candle. “Close your eyes and focus on the flame. Feel the energy inside you, like a small stream. Imagine it flowing toward the flame and making it flicker.”
Lian closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He tried to feel the energy his mother spoke of, tried to picture it moving through him. He concentrated until his head began to ache, but when he opened his eyes, the flame remained steady.
“It’s okay,” Aria said quickly, seeing the disappointment on his face. “Let’s try something else.”
They moved on to the bowl of water. “This time,” Aria instructed, “try to make the surface ripple, just a little.”
Lian bit his lip, focusing harder than ever. He felt something—an itch, a faint flicker deep within him—but it was too faint to grasp. The water remained still.
Hours passed, and despite Aria’s gentle encouragement, Lian couldn’t perform even the simplest spell. Finally, he sat back with a defeated sigh.
“It’s no use, Mama,” he said, his voice trembling. “I’ll never be able to do magic.”
Aria’s heart ached for her son, but before she could respond, Eron’s voice called from the doorway. “That’s enough for today. Come on, Lian. Let’s take a walk.”
---
Facing the Truth
The two walked in silence, the cool evening breeze rustling the trees around them. Eron led Lian to the edge of the village, where a small hill overlooked the surrounding fields. They sat together, watching the sun dip below the horizon.
“Lian,” Eron said after a long silence, “do you know why I brought you here?”
Lian shook his head.
“This hill,” Eron said, gesturing to the ground beneath them, “was nothing but rocks and weeds when I was your age. The villagers said it was useless land, not worth the effort to clear. But I didn’t listen. I spent months hauling rocks, pulling weeds, and planting seeds. And now, look.” He gestured to the lush fields stretching out before them. “It took time, patience, and a lot of hard work. But I turned this hill into something useful.”
“What does that have to do with me?” Lian asked, his brow furrowed.
“It means that just because something seems impossible now doesn’t mean it always will be,” Eron said. “You might have to work harder than others, but that doesn’t mean you’re any less capable. You just have to find your own way.”
Lian looked out over the fields, the golden light of the setting sun reflecting in his eyes. For the first time in weeks, he felt a small spark of hope.
---
The Weight of Isolation
But hope alone wasn’t enough to shield Lian from the harsh realities of life. The next day, he ventured into the village to buy supplies for his mother. As he walked through the bustling marketplace, he couldn’t help but notice the stares.
“Isn’t that the boy with no mana?” someone whispered.
“Poor thing,” another voice said. “He’ll never amount to anything.”
Lian’s cheeks burned, and he quickened his pace. He tried to ignore the whispers, but they clung to him like a shadow.
At one stall, a group of children around his age was practicing simple spells. One boy lit a small fire in his palm, while another made a flower bloom with a flick of his fingers.
“Hey, Lian!” one of them called. “Why don’t you show us what you can do?”
The others laughed, and Lian clenched his fists, his heart pounding with a mix of anger and shame. He turned and ran, the laughter echoing in his ears.
---
A Quiet Resolve
When Lian returned home, he locked himself in his room, his thoughts a whirlwind of frustration and despair. He stared at his hands, willing them to glow with magic, but they remained stubbornly ordinary.
For hours, he sat in silence, replaying the day’s events in his mind. But as the moon rose high in the sky, a new determination began to take root within him.
“I won’t give up,” he whispered to himself. “No matter what it takes, I’ll find a way. I’ll prove them all wrong.”
He didn’t know how or when, but one thing was certain: he would find his own path, even if it meant carving it out of stone.
And so, as the stars twinkled above, Lian took his first step toward the extraordinary journey that lay ahead.
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