A muffled slam, followed by a rather painful sting on his stomach caused Leo to stir in his sleep.

Still enamored with the comfort of his bed, his sluggish mind decided to ignore whatever it was that had struck. Idly scratching his abdomen, Leo promptly turned around and continued to sleep.

But just a few seconds later it happened again. A muffled slam followed by a throbbing sting, this time on his back.

Even half-asleep, it didn’t take him long to deduce that someone was smashing a pillow onto his body, quite possibly with the intention of waking him up.

Annoyed by the audacity of this pillow wielding criminal, Leo stealthily reached towards the extra pillow on the side of the bed, his eyes still closed.

In a single fluid motion, he rose up and smashed the pillow in the general direction he believed his assailant to be.

Leo smirked to himself as he imagined the pillow striking true to its mark, eliciting some form of surprised yelp or shout.

Instead, what he got was a loud poof as the firmness of the pillow was replaced with a formless softness, almost as if it had been eviscerated into nothing.

A gust of wind struck his face, as his hands shivered under the aftershock of an unnaturally powerful force, seemingly having rumbled through the pillow.

Eh? Wind?

Confused, Leo rubbed his still blurry eyes as he opened them.

What?! It was snowing? Inside the room?!

Wait, that didn’t make sense. It wasn’t snow, it was bird feathers, spread through the space of his room, slowly floating down onto the floor.

Staring down at his hands, he noticed the ruptured pillowcase and the distinct lack of pillow inside of it.

Well, that made sense. After all, what remained of the pillow was currently scattered in the air.

Leo glared at the culprit with obvious anger, “Mili! What the heck was that?”

Emilia smiled, slowly unclenching her fist and lowering her hand, “Good Morning to you too Leo. Sister Gillian told me to wake you up.”

“Not with a deadly magical punch, she didn’t! If that had so much as grazed me, it wouldn’t have been the pillow that had its insides scattered all over the room! Tell me, who the hell wakes up an injured person with a pillow slam?”

Emilia seemed flustered for a moment, but in an instant, she glared right back at him and retorted defiantly, “It was your fault! You surprised me! Everyone knows you don’t surprise Emilia if you wish to stay in one piece!

And for your information, I’ve been trying to wake you up for quite some time now. I used the pillow instead of my hands specifically for your safety. I even made sure to stay away from your injured eye.

Besides, didn’t you say it was only a scratch? A mere flesh wound? Were you lying then, Leo?”

Leo instinctively reached towards the bandages wrapped over his left eye. A light frown marring his face, he muttered, “Of course not. It’s only a scratch. It will heal soon.”

As if to change the topic, he gestured towards the pillow feathers littered haphazardly all over his room, “Fine then, but what about this! This! Who will clean it up? Me? The injured fellow?”

Emilia shrugged nonchalantly, “I would help if I knew Levitation magic, unfortunately, they won’t teach us that until next year. Besides, you have a wounded eye, not a lack of a hand or a leg. So yes it’s up to you.”

Realizing that the little rascal was about to get away scot-free, leaving him with an additional chore, Leo frantically prepared his ultimate attack. To launch into his slightly overused speech regarding the unfairness of the world, especially to individuals like himself, and guilt Emilia into helping out.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, a threatening finger imbued with power appeared in front of his face, forcing Leo to swallow back his words.

The owner of the finger was obviously Emilia, with a small grin, as if daring him to continue.

The little devil was clearly aware of what he was planning and her move had almost been instinctual. Perhaps that speech was a bit more than just slightly overused.

Glancing at the finger emanating miniature ripples of power into the air, Leo knew that it was time to accept his defeat.

But in a sudden twist, Emilia lowered her finger and proposed a compromise, “Well, I might be interested in helping you, if you answer my question. Tell me, what were you actually doing, when Elric’s old room spontaneously exploded into fiery doom?”

Leo froze in surprise, before answering slowly, “I told you before. I was just trying my hand at alchemy when suddenly, everything exploded. I was lucky to survive with some minor wounds to my eye. It has to be the wards--”

“Don’t think I’m stupid! There was no way that it was just an alchemical explosion. It was way too similar to the damage from a fireball, just larger, impossibly larger,” interrupted Emilia with a sharp scowl.

Leo heaved an exasperated sigh. Emilia was annoying, but when she was right, she was right. Even so, he couldn’t reveal the truth. Telling her would only lead to Sister Gillian finding out. He could trust no one besides himself.

Besides, it was a long story.

He had wanted that explosion to take place. It was just that he had greatly underestimated its power and the thoroughness of the orphanage defense wards.

In ordinary circumstances, a magical explosion should never have taken place under the power of wards. They would’ve canceled the influx of mana, instantly suffocating the uncontrolled flames. This was especially true for alchemical explosions, which were generally small and easily contained by even the simplest of wards.

Even under Leo’s special conditions, provided that the wards did their job, it should’ve been a rather small explosion.

He had personally ensured that the wards were in perfect condition and that the ingredients had been in the perfect ratio. He had calculated the maximum threshold of power the wards could handle and had gone just slightly above this.

Thus, once the wards exerted their effect, the resulting explosion should’ve been small and easy to handle.

It was just too bad the wards never activated, and without them, the full power of the alchemical explosion had been released, burning down the entirety of Elric’s room.

Even as he was blasted out of the doorway with a stray strand of flame burning his left eye, Leo had no idea what had gone wrong.

Why the hell did the Wards fail? Was his existence so cursed, that even this had to fail so catastrophically?

As Leo wallowed over his misfortune, his back struck a wall in the corridor, knocking him unconscious.

By the time he came to, he was in his room and tucked into bed.

A cold sweat had gone down his back when he realized that it was only his cautious nature that had saved his life. If he hadn’t retreated into the doorway he would definitely have been burned to death.

His cautiousness, which had been criticized as cowardliness by many, had saved his life. For the umpteenth time, Leo reaffirmed that he couldn’t count on anyone but himself.

It was at that moment that Sister Gillian entered the room, almost as if she had been waiting nearby. Without giving him any time to clear his mind, let alone make up a story, she had subjected him to a session of vigorous questioning.

Thus Leo had had no choice but to ‘come clean’ and reveal that he had been practicing alchemy for years, by himself, unsupervised.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Sister Gillian was enraged, to say the least. She had kept going on about how dangerous it was, especially for a person like him, how he could’ve been permanently maimed or even killed, how the entire orphanage could’ve burned down, and so on.

Still, that didn’t explain the unnatural size and ferocity of the explosion, nor was Leo willing to disclose the real truth.

Thus, he had no choice but to blame everything on the ‘faulty’ wards, even going so far as to claim that they might have enhanced the explosion.

In truth, even he wasn’t completely clear on why the Wards had failed.

That had turned out to be for the better, for it was only his ignorance and the fact that the wards might have been faulty, that had tricked Sister Gillian. If he had lied, she would’ve known instantly.

This freed him from Sister Gillian’s ire as she now had a different target other than himself, the poor Mage who had cast the wards.

Even so, he was still under suspicion and grounded until further notice, while the Sister contacted a Mage to examine the state of the wards.

Fortunately for Leo, Mages skilled enough for the job were rare on Filament Island, and the few that were, were unwilling to make a house call just to examine wards.

And so he survived for a week, but Sister Gillian was resourceful and he was aware he didn’t have long.

Suddenly a loud slam rang out, waking Leo from his thoughts.

“Fine, keep lying then. I didn’t want to know anyway! We’re off to the blacksmiths’ but I’ll make sure to report the state of your room to Sister,” came an annoyed voice from beyond the door.

It seemed that Emilia was not pleased with his secrecy. Leo almost felt a bit bad, but this was far too important for him, to risk just for the sake of paltry feelings.

Heaving a sigh, he stared at the room littered with feathers, most of which had fallen in between the floorboards and into various crevices, meaning he would have to pick them by hand.

He had planned to leave it be, but with Sister Gillian receiving Emilia's report, he no longer had a choice. He was already under suspicion and the last thing he wanted was to give her another reason to be angry.

Imagining the work before him, Leo couldn’t help but rub his temples in annoyance.

Making matters worse, his hand brushed against his bandaged eye, causing the wound to act up once more.

Wincing at the familiar flaming sensation that throbbed over half of his face, he cursed his rotten luck. Things were not looking good for him, not that it ever did.

It was only a matter of time before Sister Gillian learned that the Wards were not the problem. And even if, by some stroke of luck, the Wards really were the problem, his eye would give him away eventually.

The special herbs he had used were far too violent. Injuries from an explosion caused by them wouldn’t heal easily, probably never.

And yet as dangerous as they were, he needed more of them. If he wished to finish what he had started, somehow he had to get out and get more. But he really, really, didn’t want to go back.

Hoping with all his might for a miracle, Leo pushed his hands forward. Reaching into his mind and body, searching for even a single strand of mana, he muttered, “Aloka.”

But his voice went ignored. He sensed nothing, and not even a speck of light appeared before him.

As expected, he was still magic-less. He couldn’t even cast the most basic illumination spell that even little children could. Just as the many healers that had examined him had said, he simply had no mana, an untreatable condition, a curse.

Laughing at himself for expecting anything to have changed over a single night, Leo realized what he had to do.

He was so close to success and he could no longer play it safe.

Even if it was dangerous, possibly deadly, for the sake of a better life, he would risk it all.

But first, to appease Sister Gillian and hopefully lower her guard, he had a chore to do. One that involved a lot of work and a lot of feathers.

***

Taking a deep breath, Leo narrowed his eyes at the stairs leading down into the foyer. The steps themselves were quite ordinary; made of birchwood and attached to the wall for additional support, nothing special.

Grabbing onto the handrail with a nervous grip, he exerted the majority of his body weight onto that arm.

Confident that he had prepared as best he could, Leo carefully placed a foot on the first step. But the moment the wooden board bent underneath, he knew he f*cked up.

A loud creak rang out, causing the sound to echo throughout the entire house. He had tried his best to be silent, and yet he had failed.

The entire thing had to be an elaborate conspiracy. Whenever he attempted to sneak out, the entire orphanage became a cacophony of alarming sounds, creaking and croaking at every single movement, almost as if the house was trying to get him caught.

Today was no different.

Already imagining how Sister Gillian would come dashing out of the kitchen with her trusty rolling pin, Leo fearfully took a step back causing another echoing creak.

But perhaps Lady Luck was smiling down at him today, for no one ran out with kitchen utensils of any sort, leaving him to wonder what it was that had distracted the usually quick to react Sister Gillian.

Almost in answer, a loud voice rang out from the west wing of the orphanage.

“Hoi! What do you mean by only six ribs? That’s a quarter of the ribs in the entire human physique! That poor boy, how long will it take for him to recover? And that’s ignoring the cost for the healer! If he wasn’t the son of the blacksmith, do you think they could afford that? Emilia, you’re grounded for the rest of the week. No, for the next two weeks.”

Leo raised an eyebrow at the surprising news. It seemed that the blacksmith’s son had been unfortunate enough to become the target of Emilia’s ire. Not many people could survive even one punch from a natural strength mage. In his humble opinion, just six broken ribs were pretty good.

“But Sister Gillian! He was outright provoking me! He said that Ophelia will become a witch when she grows up! How could my pretty older sister become a cackling old hag covered in boils and warts?! He definitely deserved that punch!” declared Emilia in the tone of a misunderstood hero.

Leo clicked his tongue in disdain. This blacksmith’s son had to be either brain dead, suicidal, or a bizarre mixture of both. There was no way he didn’t know that Emilia was overprotective of Ophelia, despite the latter being older by two years. Almost everybody in the city knew about them. The blacksmith’s son was definitely asking for it.

Either way, this matter was unrelated to him and was actually a perfect opportunity to sneak out stealthily.

“Please Emilia, do explain how that is outright provocation? He was simply stating his opinion about Ophelia, not about you. It should be her who is getting mad over this, not you. And by the White Tree, that girl could very well do with a little more spunk in her!”

Emilia instantly declared in a stubborn, almost angry tone, “Ophelia is Ophelia. She is perfect as she is. If people can’t see that, they’re blind.”

As expected, Sister Gillian moved on, “Fine, but it’s true that Ophelia is silent and soft-spoken. She can even be a bit gloomy at times. You can’t stop people from gossiping about such things.”

Leo could almost hear the smirk in Emilia’s voice as she replied, “Sister, are you sure about that?! I’m willing to bet that the blacksmith’s son won’t be gossiping again, at the very least not while I’m around! I’d definitely call that a win in my book!”

And so, the war of words continued as Leo walked further, carefully timing his steps to the voices. This way, even if the wooden steps made noise it went unheard.

Making use of this strategy, he easily climbed down the stairs and crossed the foyer. The entire time the wooden floor creaked and squeaked under him as if to signal his departure, but too bad for the floor, with the ongoing argument, all the noise fell onto deaf ears.

Leo reached the door with a victorious grin, it had been a while since he had had a chance to get out. Noticing that Emilia and Sister Gillian were still going strong, he was confident that they wouldn’t stop for quite some time.

Honestly, Sister Gillian was rather strange this way. Any other guardian would’ve slapped their child a few times for even daring to raise their voice, not that an ordinary sane person would ever dare to do the same to Emilia. But the Sister who could actually afford to do so, still encouraged debates and arguments whenever she could. In her own words, “debating builds character.”

Moving carefully, Leo grabbed onto the doorknob and opened the door. Just before he started to walk out, he couldn’t help but cast a casual glance at the east wing of the house.

Wreathed in darkness and shadow, it was a stark contrast from the rest of the house which had multiple open windows casting natural sunlight that illuminated the interior.

The east wing was an ominous hall with a single locked door at the end, which supposedly led to Father Augustine’s private office and lodging. There was no way to confirm this because, to all the children of the orphanage, that area was off-limits.

It was a few minutes later when Leo finally noticed that his casual glance had extended into prolonged staring.

Shaking his head, he cleared his mind. He was tempting fate by standing here. The fact that Sister Gillian was distracted by Emilia just when he attempted to get out, was his good luck.

Good fortune was rare for him, and he shouldn’t waste it. It was highly possible that he would not be able to get out again. Quite literally, it was now or never.

Even knowing this, Leo just couldn’t bring himself to take the last step.

If he was successful, great. But…

What if he failed?

Every part of his rational mind, the cautiousness that had saved him before, wanted him to stay.

He was frozen, in fear and shock.

Hands shaking, Leo reflexively reached for the pearl-like pendant hanging around his neck.

The pendant was a small bluish-white sphere of polished stone attached to a steel chain. Supposedly, it had been on him when he had been left at the orphanage as a baby.

Perhaps out of a childish desire for family, he had never taken it off. It had been on his neck for as long as he could remember, remaining reliable and constant through all his problems and troubles.

As his fingers rubbed the cool stone, Leo’s hands slowly stopped shaking. He could almost feel the fear that had frozen him, starting to thaw.

A sense of clarity rose within him.

In the end, despite everything, he couldn’t stand to be in his current state, weak and powerless, being stared at with eyes of pity and disdain.

So what if he failed?

If that was his fate, then so be it.

Even death might be better than living like this. He had definitely believed that in the past. But now...

Taking a final shaky breath, he forced himself to step out, the door closing behind him with a mournful creak.

Little did Leo know, he was completely right. He would fail, and what would return, would not be him. At least, not exactly.

***