The landscape continued to change as the boy moved forward, drifting farther away from the village he had left behind. The hills rolled in the distance, and the sun high in the sky only intensified the heat of the day. His feet were covered in dust, but he barely noticed it. In his mind, his mother’s tales still echoed, guiding his steps.

It had been days, maybe weeks, since he began his journey, and although he still didn’t know where he was headed, one thing was clear: he was no longer afraid. The world was vast, larger than he had ever imagined, and each step brought him closer to discovering something he didn’t yet fully understand.

But he wasn’t entirely alone on his journey.

As he walked along a dusty path lined with trees, he heard a strange sound. It was a soft creaking, like something heavy moving through the branches. The boy stopped, his eyes alert for any movement, and soon, from within the bushes, a figure appeared—one he did not expect.

It was a man, or at least he seemed to be. His skin was weathered by the sun, and his long, untidy hair fell in strands over his shoulders. He wore a tattered robe, and in his hands, he held a wooden staff he used for support as he walked. The man looked at him with curious eyes, as if surprised to find a child alone in such a place.

“Lost, boy?” the man asked with a crooked smile.

The boy, though startled, did not step back. He had grown used to solitude on his journey, and seeing someone after so much time alone was disconcerting.

“No,” he simply replied. “I’m traveling.”

The man raised an eyebrow, as if that answer was more interesting than he had expected.

“And where are you headed?” he asked, leaning on his staff.

The boy looked at him for a moment and then shrugged, saying, “I don’t know.”

The man’s smile widened. “That’s the best answer I’ve heard in a long time,” he said, laughing to himself. “Most people think they know where they’re going, but it’s nothing more than an illusion. You, at least, are honest.”

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The man moved closer, walking slowly toward the boy, who remained still, watching every movement. As the stranger approached, the boy noticed something unusual: the air around him seemed to shift, as though a subtle but palpable energy surrounded him. It wasn’t magic like what he had seen in his village. It was something different, something older.

“I’ve been watching you,” the man said, lowering his voice. “You’re different from the others, aren’t you?”

The boy didn’t know how to respond to that. He knew he was different; it had always been obvious. He couldn’t control mana like the other children in his village, and that had marked him as someone who didn’t belong. But this man said it in a way that didn’t sound disdainful—more curious than anything.

“You don’t have magic,” the man continued, as if reading his thoughts. “But that doesn’t mean you have no power.”

The boy frowned. He had heard variations of that phrase before, but always from his mother, trying to comfort him. No one else had ever said it without mockery or pity.

“What do you mean?” he finally asked.

The man crouched down to the boy’s eye level and looked at him with an intensity that made him shiver.

“Magic isn’t everything in this world,” he said firmly. “There are forces much older than mana. Forces that humans have forgotten. And you, little one, could be stronger than any of them if you learn to see the world differently.”

The boy wasn’t sure what to think. What could be stronger than mana? Everything he knew revolved around magic, and those who didn’t have it, like him, were seen as useless. But something in the way the man spoke intrigued him, as if he truly believed there was more to the world than what everyone else could see.

“Who are you?” the boy asked, feeling the need to know more.

The man slowly stood up, leaning on his staff.

“Just a traveler, like you,” he said, looking toward the horizon. “But I’ve seen many things in my travels, and I can tell you one thing: the world you know is only a small part of what it truly is. If you keep walking, if you keep searching, you’ll find answers you didn’t even know existed.”

The boy stared at him. He didn’t know whether to believe him, but something about those words sparked something inside him. Perhaps, like in the tales his mother used to tell him, there was more to the world than what his eyes could see.

The man began to walk away, but before leaving, he turned one last time to the boy.

“Remember, boy,” he said with a smile, “power doesn’t always manifest in the way we expect. Sometimes, the most powerful things are those we cannot see.”

And with those words, he disappeared into the trees, leaving the boy alone once again. But this time, the boy felt that the world was a little bigger, a little more mysterious. The journey had only just begun.