I woke up with a start in the middle of the night and lay in bed, trying to figure out what woke me. Two seconds later, I felt an urgent tug from Rue. When I rushed to the hall, I heard a piercing scream from the guest room. Inside, Cloud was half-crouched at the head of the bed, her back pressed to the wall, hugging the blanket, and staring at Rue in horror.

“Relax,” I said, raising my hands. “He’s not going to hurt you. He stayed in your room to protect you.”

“A monster is protecting me?” she asked, her voice shaky.

“He’s not a monster. He’s my familiar—my bonded companion. His name is Rue, and he just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Her breathing slowed, and she unclenched the blanket. She was still trembling, but after a couple of deep breaths, her shaking subsided. She looked around the room. “Where am I?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re in my home,” I replied softly.

Her brow furrowed. “How did I get here, and what happened to me? I remember… I was burning from the inside, and then nothing.”

“Your mana has awakened.”

She stared at me, eyes blank with confusion. “Mana?”

I took a deep breath, hesitating as I tried to think of how to explain. It was obvious she had no idea what I was talking about. “Close your eyes. Do you see a blinking red dot?”

She shook her head slowly. “No?” she pressed her back to the wall again, hugged the blanket and shook.

“Why do you look scared?”

“I don’t… I don’t see what you want… I…” She trailed off, her words stumbling.

“You don’t need to be afraid. I won’t hurt you,” I reassured her. “You’ve spent enough time with me and Al, seen us help people. Do you really think I’d hurt you?”

She looked at me for a long moment, and I saw the tension drain from her body. She smiled at me and shook her head.

“Are you hungry?”

Her face brightened, and she nodded enthusiastically.

“Come on, I’ll feed you, and we’ll continue this conversation downstairs.”

On the way down, I couldn’t help but worry her head might twist right off her neck. She kept turning it this way and that, eyes wide, her mouth hanging open as she took in every detail. When she glanced behind and spotted Rue padding along, she let out a startled squeak and jumped.

“Relax,” I said, chuckling softly. “He won’t hurt you. He’s very gentle.” An idea struck me, and I pulled out a Telepathy scroll, holding it out to her. “Here. Channel mana into this scroll. You’ll learn Telepathy and be able to talk with him.”

She looked from me to the scroll, then to Rue, back to the scroll, and finally at me with a puzzled expression. “I don’t understand.”

“What don’t you understand?”

“Everything?” she replied, her voice shaky.

“Okay, let’s do it like this.” I pointed at a high chair beside the breakfast bar. “Sit down; I’ll make you food and try to clear things up.”

She eyed the chair suspiciously, giving it a little shake to check its stability. Satisfied, she shrugged and climbed onto it. Rue flopped down beside her, watching her intently. She cast him a wary glance before hesitantly stretching her hand out. He sniffed her hand, then gave it a quick lick. She let out a surprised giggle and patted his head.

“He likes his ears scratched,” I said, smiling.

She scratched his ear, and Rue’s tail began thumping on the floor like a drum. She giggled again, finally relaxing. Her mistake was that she stopped. Not one to miss an opportunity, Rue rested his head on her lap, nudging her hand insistently to continue. She startled but couldn’t hold back her laughter, obliging his ear-scratching addiction.

I filled the coffeepot with water and added the coffee. “Do you know what happened to your world thirty years ago?”

“The Fall? Of course! Everybody knows about the Fall.” She looked disgruntled, as if offended I’d even asked.

I nodded. “Good. That makes this easier to explain. What you call the Fall is actually called an Integration.” I noticed her blank look and asked, “Do you know what integration means?”

She shook her head, looking down with a flicker of embarrassment.

“Don’t feel bad. If you don’t know something, it’s not your fault—it’s on the people who didn’t teach you,” I said in a reassuring tone. “Anyway, integration means taking something and adding it to something else, making it a part of that other thing. With me so far?”

She nodded, her eyes attentive.

I put the bacon in the oven and cracked eggs to make omelets. “Thirty years ago, the network of mana worlds connected with your world. That connection caused mana to flood this world. Technology stopped working, and people began getting classes. Mana is the energy that makes those classes and magic possible. Without mana, there would be no classes and no magic. Following so far?” I asked, glancing over at her.

She was staring at me with enormous eyes, her hands trembling. “The Mothers spoke the truth,” she whispered.

“Now I don’t understand. What do you mean?”

“The Mothers said you are the messengers of Zyrran, but I didn’t believe. I knew you were good people, but I never thought you were holy messengers.” She leapt off the chair, dropping to the floor and banging her forehead against it. “Forgive me, Messenger, for my doubt. Please strike me down but spare my family. They did believe.”

I rubbed my face in frustration, completely lost for words. Reaching down, I grabbed her hand and pulled her up. “First, I’m no messenger. Second, I have no idea who Zyrran is. Third, I’ll never strike you or anyone else down. And last, why would you suddenly believe that?”

“But… but… you said your world, not our world. You are not of this world. You must be a messenger of Zyrran. You are good! You can’t be a messenger of Abisun.”

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I sighed deeply, trying to patch up the mess. “I’m from this world, just like you. I simply come from a place very far away, on the other side of the continent. ‘Your world’ is just a figure of speech—like saying ‘your city.’ It’s not really yours, right?”

She nodded slowly, still processing.

“So saying ‘your world’ is like saying ‘your city.’ It doesn’t belong to you, but you live in it.” I turned back to the stove, continuing to cook. “Anyway, where I come from, we have different religious beliefs. I don’t know who Zyrran or Abisun are because we believe in other gods. So you see? I can’t be a messenger of a god I’m not familiar with.”

I glanced back at her. She wore a thoughtful expression, her brow slightly furrowed as she considered what I’d said. I gave her a few more moments to process before turning to her again. “Can I continue the explanation?”

“Yes, and… sorry for stopping you,” she murmured.

I waved it off casually. “It’s okay, no harm done. Where was I? Right—mana, classes, and magic. So, as I said, without mana, people can’t get classes and can’t do magic. What you experienced yesterday was your mana waking up in your body. That means you can now do magic.”

I turned around with the plates of food and set them on the bar, catching sight of her stunned expression. “I can do magic?” she whispered, wide-eyed.

“Yes.”

“How?”

“There are spells you can cast that create magical effects.”

She gave me a look that clearly said she thought I was completely full of shit.

I laughed, placing my palm on my diaphragm. “This is where you felt the burning yesterday, right?” When she nodded, I continued, “Close your eyes and focus on the energy in that spot. Lift your hand when you feel it, but don’t open your eyes.”

I watched her, noticing her face scrunching with concentration. After a minute, her expression softened, and she smiled slightly, lifting her hand.

“Good. Now, focus on that exact spot and try to see it. It’s not about regular sight—it’s more like mental sight. Try to visualize what that place might look like, and, based on how it feels, connect the image to the sensation until you actually ‘see’ it.”

This time I waited a few minutes, but she still looked frustrated, her brows furrowing.

“Let’s stop for now,” I said. “The food’s getting cold. Eat first, then you can try again.”

She nodded and began to eat with gusto. When she tasted the coffee, she scrunched her nose in disgust. “What is this?”

“It’s called coffee. You don’t like it?”

She shook her head.

I added sugar and cream to her coffee. “Try it now.”

She tasted it hesitantly, then her eyes went wide as she gulped it down.

I laughed. “Slow down; there’s more. No need to rush.”

She nodded, looking embarrassed, and continued eating and drinking more slowly. When we finished, I cast Clean on the plates and cups, and her eyes widened again in awe. “Was that magic?” she asked.

“Yes. It’s a spell called Clean.”

Al came down the stairs, poured himself a cup of coffee, and sat beside her. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” she replied shyly.

“I was just explaining to Cloud about mana,” I said. “She’s already learned how to feel her orb, and now she’s working on seeing it.”

“Why?” Al asked, raising an eyebrow.

I looked at him, puzzled.

He smiled and shook his head. “I believe that seeing the orbs is something unique to wizards. I can only sense my power centers; I don’t visually perceive them,” he told me telepathically.

“You can’t?”

He shook his head again.

“Please take over the explanation. I don’t know much about mages,” I said aloud.

He turned to her. “You can feel your power center?”

“Yes, it feels like a pocket of energy inside my chest, moving to my hands and legs,” she replied, her eyes bright with interest.

“Good. That means you have the potential to be a strong mage.”

“She does?” I asked him telepathically.

He nodded and continued. “Close your eyes and focus on that feeling. Learn it. Know it.”

Both of us waited until she nodded.

“Now, extend your senses and feel that same energy in the air around you.”

This time it took longer, but after about ten minutes, she broke into a smile and whispered, “Wow!”

“What you are feeling is the mana of the world,” Al explained, in a calm voice. “Mana fills the air, and with each breath you take, it enters your body. It is also in the water you drink and the food you eat. Everyone in this world has mana within them, and when it reaches a certain concentration, it crystallizes into a power center—just as it happened to you.” He glanced over at her, studying her reaction. “I believe this occurred because you ate a lot of mana-rich meat, and John kept healing you, flooding your body with even more mana. All of this mana reached the point of crystallization, and that is how your power center formed.”

While he explained, I prepared his breakfast, glancing over as he spoke. It was refreshing to hear such a complex topic explained in a straightforward way, without the usual tangled language of wizards.

“Everyone in this world carries mana within their body, even if they do not have a power center. This mana gives them the potential to unlock a class. Some classes are connected to various crafts or professions and rely less on mana directly, although all class abilities are still influenced by it.”

I handed him his breakfast and sat down across from him, listening intently. He took a few bites, pausing thoughtfully before continuing. “On the other hand, there are magical classes, which rely heavily on mana—more specifically, on the amount of mana a person possesses. Anyone with mana can learn spells or even undergo an apprenticeship to unlock the Mage class. However, without a power center, they are limited in the strength of the spells they can learn, the number of times they can cast them, and, most crucially, the frequency with which they can cast.” He looked at her, ensuring she was following. “This is called spell cooldown. Even if their Personal Information shows available mana, a recovery period is required between each cast to allow the body to adjust to a lower mana level. Mages with power centers, like the one you now have, are free from this limitation—they can cast spells in rapid succession until their mana is entirely depleted.”

“I didn’t know that,” I said, surprised by the explanation.

“Yes,” he replied, nodding thoughtfully. “Wizards are different; they always possess power centers. That is about all I know. Wizard magic is… unique.”

She glanced between us and asked, “Should I try again to see my center?”

“Yes,” I said.

“No,” Al said at the same moment.

I looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “Why not? Maybe she has the potential to be a wizard.”

He shook his head firmly. “She required your help to awaken her center. There is no chance she is a wizard. If she were, her mana would have awakened much earlier and spontaneously, without any assistance.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I thought you knew nothing about wizards.”

“I do not know anything about wizard magic, but this is basic knowledge everyone knows.” He looked over at Cloud, cleared his throat, and added, “Well… almost everyone.”

He glanced at me and spoke telepathically, “It is common knowledge in mana worlds. Wizards’ mana awakens on its own, typically between the ages of ten and twelve. Mages, on the other hand, need to meditate or receive help from another mage to awaken their mana.”

Mahya came down the stairs, waved to everyone, and headed straight for the coffeepot. Cloud stared at her, eyes wide with fear.

“Don’t worry,” I said gently. “This is Mahya. She’s the fourth and final member of our group.”

Cloud glanced around, a frown forming as she asked, “Fourth? Where’s the third person?”

Al pointed toward Rue, and Rue said, “Rue adventurer too!” His tail wagged enthusiastically.

We laughed, but Cloud looked at us with a questioning expression.

I handed her a telepathy scroll. “Feel the power center in your chest and the lines that extend from there to your hands. Let me know when you can sense them.”

She closed her eyes and nodded. “Yes, I feel it.”

“Good. Now push a little bit of that power from your chest, down your arm, and into this scroll.”

Her face scrunched in concentration, and the scroll disintegrated in her hand. She jumped, looking at her hand in alarm. “I’m sorry,” she said in a small, frightened voice.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. You did it perfectly,” I reassured her, giving her shoulder a gentle pat.

“Rue, buddy, say hello.”

“Hello, Cloud,” Rue said, his tail wagging.

Cloud startled so badly that her chair wobbled, and Al had to catch her to keep her from toppling over. She looked around frantically. “Who said that?!”

“Rue say hello,” Rue repeated, sounding confused. His ears drooped as his tail slowed. “Rue sorry you afraid. Rue is friend, don’t be afraid.”

She stared at him, her eyes as wide as saucers. “The wolf… talks?”

“Rue is no wolf. Rue is dog,” he corrected her.

She continued to stare for several seconds before bursting out in laughter, shaking her head. Al and I exchanged glances, unsure of what to make of it. Her laughter grew, but there was an unmistakable edge of hysteria in it.

Mahya came around the breakfast bar, gently putting an arm around Cloud’s shoulders. “Come with me for a girl’s talk,” she said softly.

Al and I watched them, still confused. Mahya turned back and spoke to us telepathically, “She’s overwhelmed,” before leading Cloud up the stairs.

Well, as far as introductions to magic went, I thought it went pretty well. Definitely better than my own introduction, at least.