The morning light slanted through the small, frosted window of the room where Felix had slept, painting pale beams across the simple wooden floor. It was a quiet, humble space—a stark contrast to the bustling noise of home. For a moment, he lay still, trying to process the events of yesterday. It felt as though he’d been dropped into someone else’s life, a reality where magic flowed as naturally as air and the world was filled with strange rules and customs he couldn’t begin to understand.

But if yesterday had taught him anything, it was that lingering too long in disbelief wouldn’t change his circumstances. He was here, like it or not, and his best chance of survival—or getting home—was to learn the rules of this place.

With a sigh, he pushed himself up, stretching the stiffness from his shoulders. As he moved, the pendant Melara had given him slipped out from under his shirt, the stone cool against his skin. Its weight was comforting, a steadying reminder of the mana he’d felt pulsing within him last night.

A soft knock sounded at the door, pulling him from his thoughts.

“Come in,” he called, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep.

Melara entered, her expression warm but businesslike. “Good morning. I trust you rested well?” she asked, glancing around the room as if to ensure everything was in place.

“Yeah, I guess.” Felix ran a hand through his hair, feeling self-conscious. “Thanks for letting me stay. I’d probably still be wandering around outside if it weren’t for you.”

Melara’s mouth quirked up in a slight smile. “You’re welcome. And you’ll need your energy today. I spoke with Oswin, our village rune-keeper. He’s agreed to help you understand mana a bit more. It isn’t every day we get visitors from… another place.”

Felix’s brow furrowed. “Rune-keeper?”

“He’s our guide in matters of magic, particularly the old ways. A fair bit older than me, and far more stubborn,” she said, a hint of humor in her voice. “But if anyone can teach you to harness mana, it’s him.”

Felix nodded, feeling a mix of nerves and curiosity. Despite his reluctance to believe in this world, something in him wanted to learn, to understand the power he’d glimpsed yesterday.

“Ready?” she asked, and when he nodded, she led him through the village to a small stone house, half-hidden by a large, gnarled tree. The roots wound around the structure as if embracing it, and the air around it felt different—heavier, charged.

Melara knocked lightly, and moments later, the door creaked open. A wiry man with silver-streaked hair and eyes as sharp as a hawk’s appeared in the doorway, his gaze flicking over Felix with an intensity that made him feel as though he were being examined.

“This is Felix,” Melara said, nodding toward him. “He’s the one I told you about.”

The man nodded. “I see. Well then, come in,” he said, his voice rough but not unkind.

The inside of Oswin’s house was cluttered but meticulously organized. Shelves were lined with jars of strange powders, crystals, and bits of dried herbs. Scrolls and books were piled in haphazard stacks, each with its own system of order that likely only Oswin understood.

“So, Melara tells me you’re new to mana,” Oswin said, settling into a chair and gesturing for Felix to sit across from him. “Tell me, lad—what did it feel like?”

Felix hesitated. “It was… strange. Like warmth, but not exactly. I could feel it inside me, but it was faint, like something I couldn’t quite reach.”

Oswin nodded, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “A common experience for beginners. Mana is the lifeblood of all things here. We draw it from within ourselves, from nature, from everything around us. But to wield it… that takes skill, discipline, and respect.”

Felix shifted in his seat, feeling the weight of Oswin’s words. “How do I learn to control it?”

“Practice,” Oswin replied. “And patience. You must learn to sense the flow within you and let it guide you. The pendant Melara gave you will help, but the work is yours to do.”

He leaned forward, his gaze piercing. “Close your eyes, lad. Focus on your breath, and imagine that warmth again. Feel it, let it rise. Don’t force it; let it come to you.”

Felix closed his eyes, taking a slow breath. He let himself sink into the quiet of the room, the faint smells of herbs and dust grounding him. He felt for the warmth, that barely-there flicker of energy he’d experienced yesterday. It was elusive at first, slipping away each time he thought he’d found it, but after a few minutes, a faint glow began to stir, pulsing like a heartbeat.

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“There it is,” Oswin’s voice was soft but approving. “Hold onto that. Don’t rush it.”

Felix focused on the feeling, letting it expand. It was subtle, a tingling warmth that radiated from his chest down to his fingertips. But as he concentrated, he felt it grow stronger, more defined.

Felix focused on the feeling, letting the warmth expand through him. It was subtle, like a low hum in the depths of his chest, spreading slowly to his arms and fingers. But the more he relaxed, the clearer it became—a current, something alive yet elusive, pulsing within him.

“Good,” Oswin murmured, his voice steady. “Now, keep that flow steady. Mana is like any current; push too hard, and you’ll disrupt it. Too soft, and it’ll slip away.”

Felix tried to follow the advice, focusing on the current as it moved within him, letting it flow without forcing it. He could feel it, faint but real, and for a moment, he almost lost himself in the sensation.

But then, like a candle blown out by a sudden gust, the warmth vanished, leaving only silence. Felix opened his eyes, frustrated yet exhilarated by the fleeting experience.

Oswin chuckled softly. “That’s enough for now. Mana is a patient teacher, and you’re only just beginning.”

Felix exhaled, feeling a mixture of pride and exhaustion. “I didn’t expect it to be so… delicate.”

“It is,” Oswin agreed, leaning back in his chair. “Control, lad, is the heart of all magic. Raw power is nothing without balance and discipline. Rushing it will only end in disaster.”

The seriousness in his tone struck Felix, who nodded, absorbing the advice. “So… how long until I can actually do something with it?”

Oswin’s eyes twinkled with a hint of amusement. “That depends on you. But for now, let’s start small. In time, you’ll have the foundation to attempt real spells, even if they’re modest ones.”

As the lesson concluded, Oswin suggested that Felix take some time to explore the village, to acquaint himself with the people and customs of this world. “Magic isn’t just about what you feel within,” he said. “It’s also about understanding the world around you. Go, walk, observe. Tirrow Vale may be small, but it holds a few surprises.”

Felix agreed, curious to learn more about this place. With a nod of thanks to Oswin, he stepped outside, taking in the sights with fresh eyes.

The village was alive with a quiet, unhurried rhythm, as people moved between small market stalls and rustic cottages. He watched a woman carrying baskets overflowing with herbs, her fingers flickering to create tiny bursts of light, illuminating the pathway as she walked. Nearby, a child crouched beside a stream, directing a small gust of wind to spin a leaf like a toy.

The simplicity of it all struck Felix. Magic here wasn’t flashy or grand—it was woven into daily life, something practical and almost unremarkable to the villagers. But to Felix, it was remarkable, a glimpse into the depth of this world’s mysteries.

As he wandered, he heard a familiar voice call out. “Enjoying your tour?”

Turning, Felix spotted the boy who’d led him to Melara’s cottage the day before. The boy grinned, approaching with an easy, friendly manner. “Did Oswin fill your head with talk of currents and flows?”

Felix chuckled. “Yeah, something like that. It’s… a lot to take in.”

The boy nodded knowingly. “Oswin’s a tough one, but he knows his stuff. I’m Cedric, by the way. If you need help getting around, I can show you the village.”

Felix accepted the offer, grateful for a bit of company. Cedric led him through the winding paths of Tirrow Vale, pointing out landmarks—a small apothecary stall, a bakery, and an open-air forge where a blacksmith worked, sweat glistening on his brow.

“Most of us don’t think much about magic,” Cedric said as they walked. “It’s just… well, part of life. Oswin might’ve told you, but mana’s something everyone here has, even if we don’t all use it the same way.”

Felix nodded, still trying to make sense of it all. “So everyone here has magic?”

“To some extent,” Cedric replied. “It’s different for everyone, though. Some can barely make a spark, while others… well, you’ll see if you stick around.”

Felix caught a glimpse of an older woman holding a bundle of herbs. With a simple flick of her wrist, she caused a faint glow to envelop the leaves, a soft light emanating from her fingertips. It was practical, almost casual, yet Felix couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe.

Later that day, after his tour of the village, Felix returned to Oswin’s house. The rune-keeper was outside, carefully tending to a small garden of strange plants, each with leaves or petals that seemed to hum with an inner glow.

“Back already?” Oswin asked without looking up.

“Yeah. Cedric showed me around,” Felix replied, settling down on a nearby rock. “It’s… different here.”

Oswin nodded, his hands moving deftly over the plants. “You’ll get used to it. Magic may be common, but don’t let that fool you. There’s power here beyond what most realize.”

Felix watched as Oswin tended to a cluster of dark green leaves edged in silver. “What are those?”

“Night’s Veil Sporeweed,” Oswin replied. “Dangerous if handled carelessly, but useful. It can heal wounds, but the spores are toxic in large doses. A reminder, perhaps, that even small things have great potential if respected.”

The words lingered with Felix. He thought of his own experience with mana, of the strange warmth that had flowed through him. Small, yet powerful—an energy he barely understood but felt drawn to.

As evening settled over the village, Felix returned to the lodge where Melara had offered him a room. He lay back on the simple bed, the events of the day replaying in his mind. Mana, Oswin’s teachings, the quiet yet potent magic of the villagers—it was all beginning to weave together, forming a picture he hadn’t expected.

There was still so much he didn’t understand, yet for the first time, he felt a hint of excitement. This world, strange and challenging as it was, held more than he’d ever imagined. And perhaps, if he continued, he might just

uncover the secrets of the Grimoire—and of himself.