Two months had passed, swift and unrelenting, like the fleeting breeze that whispered through Windfield. Emma stood in the garden behind her home, her silver-white hair catching the sunlight as she tilted her face toward the sky. She let her eyes drift shut, her arms loosely by her sides, soaking in the warmth of the magical sun that cast a golden glow over the world. The vibrant hum of nature surrounded her.. the chirping of birds nestled in the garden’s trees, the faint rustle of leaves as the wind teased them, and the earthy scent of freshly tilled soil mingling with the delicate fragrance of blooming flowers.

It was moments like this that reminded her of the simplicity of life’s beauty, a welcome reprieve from the whirlwind of the past two months.

A lot had happened.

Three weeks ago, Emma had finally been discharged from the hospital. The doctor’s words still lingered in her mind: Your Ki Core has recovered faster than expected. You’ll be able to practice magic now, but you mustn’t push yourself too hard. Avoid complex or strenuous magic.. it could still damage your core.

She had smiled politely at his advice, but inwardly, she had dismissed it. The prospect of finally practicing magic had thrilled her too much to heed the cautionary tone.

However, upon returning home, her excitement had been tinged with confusion. No one.. not the doctor, not her family had detected the presence of the Dragon Ki Core within her. Could it have been a mistake? Was it possible that everything Matana had seen was nothing more than an illusion? Emma had spent countless hours pondering this, trying to reconcile her doubts. A being like Matana wouldn’t lie, she reasoned. When the time came, she decided to meditate and explore her core, to discover its true nature.

For now, life had settled into a quiet rhythm. The days passed uneventfully, filled with strolls around the house, rereading the worn pages of books in their library. The books were familiar companions, as they hadn’t been able to purchase any new ones at the Royal Bookstore Opening in Eldo-Clearoth. Emma found solace in the pages, but there was an undercurrent of restlessness she couldn’t quite shake.

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Three weeks since her discharge, and she had accomplished little. Was it laziness? Burnout? She wasn’t sure.

As she stood in the garden, her thoughts drifted to her family. Her father, Derrick, was at work, her mother, Vivian, had gone to the market to restock their supplies, and her elder sister, Ellie, was busy with school. Her twin brother, Ethan, was immersed in his private magic lessons.. a step toward honing his newfound abilities.

Emma, on the other hand, had chosen to stay home. She had told her parents she needed more time to rest before beginning her lessons alongside Ethan. Though they had agreed, her mother had been reluctant to leave her alone, especially after everything that had happened. Then there was the magical egg.. a mysterious object Emma had brought back when she got out of the dungeon. It now rested in a small wooden cottage behind their house, a compromise she had made with her mother to ease her concerns.

Her gaze shifted toward the cottage, its modest frame nestled among the grass and few trees. A part of her wanted to retrieve the egg and study it further, but another part urged her to let it be for now.

Turning away, Emma made her way back into the house. She walked through the passage to her room, only to pause at the doorway. A sudden thought pulled her in another direction. She was supposed to be going to the library, not her room. With a shake of her head, she pivoted and headed back to the dirt of the library, her footsteps light against the wooden floor.

The scent of old paper and aged wood greeted her as she entered the library. Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting golden beams that danced across the rows of shelves lined with books. The familiar atmosphere was comforting, like stepping into a sanctuary.

Emma walked to the wooden desk near the center of the room and pulled out the chair, its legs scraping softly against the floor. Sitting down, she shifted closer to the desk, feeling a pang of frustration at her petite stature. "One day," she murmured to herself, "I’ll be tall enough to reach without stretching."

A smile tugged at her lips as she reached for a quill, dipping its tip into the inkwell. The rich, black ink glistened in the light as she set it to a fresh sheet of paper.

"Today," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, "I’m going to write my goals."

Her eyes scanned the blank page, and she took a moment to let her thoughts settle. What should she write? Where should she start?

The stillness of the library wrapped around her, broken only by the faint rustling of leaves outside and the occasional creak of the house settling. The weight of possibilities pressed against her mind, and for the first time in weeks, Emma felt a spark of purpose.

She smiled, the quill poised above the paper. "Now, where should I start?"