Adrian crouched on the floor of his room, small fingers tracing careful lines in the thin layer of dust that had settled near the windowsill. At four years old, he had more control over his hands than he did a year ago. I’m getting better at this, he thought with a hint of pride, observing the straightness of the lines he had drawn.

He glanced toward the door, his ears attuned to the faintest creaks or footsteps outside. Seems like Sister Selena is going to arrive soon.

As expected, the door soon creaked open, pulling Adrian’s focus from his dust drawings. Sister Selena stepped in, balancing a tray in one hand.

The tray wobbled slightly, and the rich scent of freshly baked cookies wafted into the room. Adrian’s eyes widened at the sight of the warm treats, their tops golden-brown with just the right amount of crispness, accompanied by a small cup of milk.

“Good morning, Adrian,” Sister Selena greeted as she set a tray on the small table beside his bed.

“I brought you some breakfast.”

Adrian pushed himself up from the bed with more composure, feeling a blush warm his cheeks as he noticed the tray. He gave a polite nod, his lips parting in a composed yet sincere, “Thank you, Sister Selena.”

Carefully, he took a seat, folding his hands for a moment before reaching for a cookie. Feeling the delicate crumble as he brought it to his lips.

The first bite released a rush of sweetness, and he felt the embarrassment deepen, an unwelcome warmth flooding his cheeks. Why do these taste so much better than they should? he wondered, barely letting the question settle before savoring the next bite. He lifted his glass of milk, taking a calm sip, letting the coolness temper the rich flavor lingering in his mouth.

“Eat up quickly, Adrian, I’ll need your help preparing for the harvest festival later.” Sister Selena urged.

Adrian paused, his cookie halfway to his mouth, a few crumbs clinging to his lips. “Tha…harvest feshtival?” he mumbled through a mouthful.

Sister Selena patted his head affectionately. “It’s a celebration to thank Goddess Isha for providing us with food and a bountiful harvest. Farmers from nearby have already donated lots of food to the convent, so we have a busy day ahead of us.”

Adrian nodded, chewing thoughtfully. Doesn't seem unusual, and hey, maybe I'll get some different foods this time around.

He took the last cookie and finished his milk in a few big gulps, careful not to spill a drop. Sister Selena chuckled lightly. “You’ve done well, Adrian. No mess at all this time.”

She straightened up and gestured toward the door. “Now, come along. We have a lot to get done in the kitchen.”

Adrian slid off his chair and followed her down the narrow hallway and towards the bustling kitchen. The scent of freshly baked bread mixed with the sharp tang of onions and herbs filled the air. A few kids were already working, their sleeves rolled up as they chopped vegetables or stirred pots.

In one corner, Seven was crouched over a pile of pumpkins, scooping out seeds and separating the pulp. Her movements were quick and precise, almost unnaturally so. Adrian watched her for a moment, thinking, She’s actually good at that.

Then again, given what he knew about her, it wasn’t entirely surprising. I suppose homunculi are truly constructed alternatively.

Sister Selena nudged Adrian forward and pointed to a large sack of potatoes on the floor. “I need you to help peel these potatoes. We’ll need plenty for the feast.”

Adrian nodded and picked up a potato and a peeler. The work was simple but repetitive, the skin coming off in rough spirals that landed softly in a pile by his feet. He focused on the task, trying to keep the peels thin and even, though it wasn’t his favorite kind of work. There's worse things I could be doing.

As he worked, he heard a soft whisper beside him. “Adrian."

Adrian turned his head and saw that Seven had slipped over to him. “Can you teach me magic? Please?”

Adrian kept his eyes on the potato he was peeling, not breaking his rhythm. “I can’t right now."

Inwardly, his thoughts churned with memories from a year ago: the dark, pulsing energy of Seven’s mana core, and the unsettling feeling that had washed over him when she tried to channel it. I've been holding off on teaching her ever since that day out of caution. Though I'm not sure if that's actually a good thing or not.

Seven pressed on. “But you said you would! You promised.”

Adrian’s grip tightened on the peeler, the rough wood pressing into his palm. He sighed softly, keeping his gaze fixed on the potato. “Not now, you have to be patient.”

Seven’s face twisted with frustration, her voice breaking as she pressed on. “You’ve been saying that for the past year, Adrian. I’ve waited just like you told me to. But you keep saying it’s not the right time.”

Adrian’s shoulders slumped slightly. He stopped peeling and looked down at the potato in his hand, his grip loosening. She’s not wrong, he admitted to himself. But the memory of the dark, pulsing mana still lingered in his mind.

Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

“I just can’t, Seven, sorry."

“Why not?”

Adrian’s mouth opened as if to answer, but no words came out. He fell silent, returning to the rhythmic task of peeling.

For a moment, the air grew tense with unspoken words. Then, he heard a soft sniffle. He turned, glancing at Seven, and saw tears streaming down her cheeks. Her lips quivered, and she tried to wipe her face with the back of her hand, but the tears kept coming.

Why’s she crying so much? he thought, feeling a tinge of guilt.

He let out a sigh, knowing that he couldn’t just leave her like this. “Okay, I’ll teach you… after the Harvest Festival."

Seven’s eyes widened. “Really?” she asked, her voice catching between sobs.

When Adrian nodded, she broke into a wide, jubilant smile. She started hopping in place, her excitement bubbling over in an instant. “Thank you! Thank you!”

Adrian felt a tug of both amusement and embarrassment. “Calm down, everyone’s looking at you.”

Realizing the attention she was drawing, Seven stopped abruptly, her cheeks flushing red. She bowed her head slightly and mumbled, “Sorry, everyone,” before returning to her task of cleaning the pumpkin seeds, now with an undeniable smile.

***

Adrian’s arms strained under the weight of the heavy crate he carried. His legs wobbled slightly, but he gritted his teeth and kept moving, matching his pace to Seven’s. She was beside him, thin arms wrapped tightly around her own side of the crate, and beads of sweat dotted her forehead.

Why is this so heavy? Adrian thought, feeling his grip slip a little as he adjusted his hold.

The two of them finally reached the long wooden table set up in the middle of the convent's yard. Sister Selena was already waiting there, her kind eyes lighting up as she watched the children approach.

“You two did well,” she praised, taking the crate from them and placing it on the table with ease. Inside of each crate was an assortment of colorful vegetables and freshly baked bread, fine additions to the growing display of food meant for the festival.

Adrian let out a heavy breath, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. Then, he straightened up slowly, his shoulders aching, and looked around the yard.

The area had been transformed for the festivities. Long tables and sturdy wooden benches were arranged neatly across the lawn, each draped with simple but bright clothes in shades of red, orange, and yellow while platters of fruits, breads, and pies were already set out.

This really is a lot of food, he thought, marveling at the abundance.

Banners and garlands of autumn leaves hung from the trees and fences, swaying gently in the cool breeze. A few children were busy arranging chairs, while others carried baskets of flowers to decorate the tables.

Adrian let out a slow sigh, feeling both tired and oddly satisfied. It’s kind of nice seeing everything come together like this.

Sister Selena smiled warmly at Adrian and Seven. “You two should go pick a seat now. The festival is about to start.”

Adrian nodded, his body still aching from the effort of carrying the heavy crate. He looked around the bustling yard, wondering where he should sit. Before he could decide, Seven’s hand suddenly wrapped around his wrist. “Come on, I found a good spot.”

Adrian didn’t resist; he let Seven drag him along, weaving between tables and clusters of people setting up the last touches. She’s stronger than she looks.

They reached a table near the front, positioned close enough to see everything but far enough to avoid the crowd of nuns bustling around the main table. The two plopped down onto the wooden bench, catching their breath.

Soon, the crowd of children, nuns, and a few farmers from nearby gathered around the central table. The head priest stepped forward to address the crowd. He raised his hands, signaling for silence, and a hush fell over the yard. “Today, we offer our thanks to the Goddess Isha. For the harvest, for the food before us, and for the bounty of the land that sustains us.”

The crowd bowed their heads as the priest continued. “Let us pray for another fruitful season and for the well-being of all gathered here.”

Once the prayer concluded, the head nun stepped forward. She had a soft, grandmotherly warmth about her as she addressed everyone. “We give our deepest gratitude to the farmers, the helpers, and, of course, to all of you children. May this festival remind us of the blessings we share and the community that sustains us.”

Applause rippled through the crowd, light and heartfelt. Adrian clapped along, his small hands making soft, quick sounds. She’s always happy when she talks like that.

As the applause died down, the nuns gathered together in a small group near the front of the yard. Sister Selena stood among them, holding a small book of hymns.

The nuns started singing, voices rising in a harmonious melody that filled the air. The children and farmers listened attentively, some closing their eyes to fully absorb the calming rhythm.

Once the song ended, the head nun clapped her hands, signaling that the meal could begin. The children’s faces lit up, and the farmers exchanged friendly nods as everyone moved toward the tables. Platters of food were passed around, and laughter mingled with the clatter of plates and silverware.

Adrian reached for a warm bread roll, breaking it apart and watching the steam rise. He dipped a piece into a bowl of thick stew, savoring the taste of the hearty broth. Beside him, Seven was already working her way through a plate of roasted carrots and potatoes, cheeks bulging slightly as she chewed.

“This is good,” Adrian said quietly between bites, enjoying the food and the lively atmosphere around him.

Seven nodded enthusiastically, swallowing quickly before replying, “Yeah! I like the pie the most.” She pointed at a slice of apple pie, the golden crust glistening with sugar.

Adrian chuckled, grabbing a piece for himself. The sweetness burst on his tongue, mingling perfectly with the warmth of the spices. This festival isn’t so bad after all.

He glanced at Seven, who was already reaching for another helping. She caught his gaze and grinned, bits of crumbs sticking to her lips. Adrian rolled his eyes playfully but couldn’t help smiling back. Maybe teaching her magic won’t be as bad as I thought.

Seven’s eyes darted around as she took another small bite of pie. She cleared her throat, then looked at Adrian, her expression suddenly hesitant. “Hey, Adrian?”

He raised an eyebrow, still savoring the last of his stew. “Yeah? What is it?”

Seven bit her lip, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her tunic. She took a deep breath, her cheeks flushing as she stumbled over her words. “I just… I was, um, hypothesizing… or, rather, contemplating, in a manner of… er…” She paused, looking frustrated as her cheeks grew redder.

Adrian tried to suppress a grin but failed. “I thought I told you to stop using all those fancy words."

Seven’s blush deepened, and she quickly looked away, her voice coming out in a stammer. “N-nevermind, then! It’s nothing. I just… nevermind!”

Adrian watched her for a moment, amused by her sudden shyness. She’s really flustered… what’s she trying to ask?