Upon awakening, Kael was immediately aware of the pain coursing through his body. Gritting his teeth, he carefully rose and attempted to stretch his sore muscles, contemplating his next steps. With his body in such a battered state, physical exertion was out of the question, and he had learned firsthand the risks of delving into magic unguided.

"I need a teacher," he concluded aloud.

He had always known this would be necessary, but finding a magic tutor in his small village was easier said than done. Self-taught mages were virtually unheard of; the sheer breadth of knowledge required to wield magic effectively was impossible for one person to amass alone. After all, how could a single individual hope to recreate the combined work of generations of geniuses? Resolving to focus on mana channeling and recovery for the time being, Kael began his day.

The persistent pain made working more difficult than usual. He was no stranger to life-threatening injuries, but he hadn't anticipated sustaining such severe wounds as a young child—especially as a result of his own actions. His father's peculiar behavior only compounded his unease. Kael noticed his father casting frequent, worried glances in his direction, and he couldn't shake the feeling that his secret was on the verge of being exposed.

As Kael was pulling weeds, his father approached him.

"Son, when you've finished up with the weeds, come tell me. I've got something to tell you, okay?"

Kael's anxiety intensified, and he still had no plausible explanation for his newfound abilities and changed demeanor. He didn't want his family to view him as a monster or, worse, as a being possessed by some malevolent force. Fortunately, his father ceased watching him work.

While he completed his tasks, Kael scrambled to concoct a story to account for his situation. Once he was done, he made his way to his father, mentally rehearsing his fabricated tale.

Alright. The morning when I had the 'bad dream', I started to be able to feel "stuff." This stuff distracted me. Eventually, I began trying to figure out what it was and experimenting with it. That's when the explosion occurred. I didn't mean to cause it. Of course, there aren't any recorded instances of someone being naturally able to sense mana, but I don't think my parents would know that. In fact, they don't know much about magic other than… well, it's magic.

Despite his lack of confidence in the story, it was better than nothing. Nervously, he approached his father. "Hey dad, I'm done," he said sheepishly.

"Ah, Kael. Good, good. Umm… So, about the forest… Well, it's dangerous. There's been some nasty animals lately, so you're not allowed to go play there anymore."

"Nasty animals?" Kael inquired, genuinely taken aback. In the several weeks he had spent training there, he hadn't sensed any such creatures.

"Yeah. I saw some signs of them near the edge of the forest yesterday. Well, the aftermath at least. So no more forest, got it?" His father asserted firmly.

A wave of relief washed over Kael as he grasped the situation. His father had stumbled upon the remnants of his skirmish with the bandits and had mistaken it for the work of wild animals. That was one less issue to worry about. However, he needed to feign disappointment at the news, even though he genuinely lamented losing his ideal training spot.

"Oh… okay," he responded, doing his best to appear crestfallen.

"Also. Umm." His father stammered, glancing away awkwardly while rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. "You should, uh, play more. Maybe spend some time with your brother. What I'm trying to say is, there's plenty of time to be an adult when you grow up. But now is the only time you can be a kid. Maybe that's too complicated… anyway, just don't worry about us and do what you want. Except for going to the forest, you can't do that."

Kael realized he hadn't been as convincing of a child as he had thought, but at least his father had misunderstood. He would need to exercise more caution in the future.

"Oh, okay. I understand… I think. Then, I'm going to go to my room for a bit. I'm tired after everything today," Kael remarked. In truth, he was exhausted. The combination of working through his injury and the stress of believing his family was on the verge of discovering his secret had taken a toll on him. His father simply nodded, seemingly content with the conversation they'd had.

Kael followed through on his words and retreated to his room. Sitting on the bed, he took a moment to process the day's events. The bandit situation was resolved, at least as long as no one ventured into the forest and found the bodies. But without access to the forest, physical training would prove challenging. For now, he decided not to dwell on that; he could use a break. Training with his body in its current condition wouldn't be wise. Practicing magic could be problematic as well, especially if another explosion were to occur. His best option was to focus on less volatile types of magic and hope for the best.

With this plan in mind, he opted to work on his mana circulation. If he managed to reach his body's maximum aura capacity, it would simply free up more time for learning magic.

Roughly an hour into his mana circulation, the door to Kael's bedroom creaked open. Glancing over, he saw Tristan burst in, brandishing a stick.

"Hey, Kael! Why are you just sitting there? You've been sitting there for like forever! Dad told me to come play with you. Let's fight with swords!" Tristan exclaimed, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Mr. Miller is here? What are they talking about? Oh, and uh, I can't… my sti- uh, my sword broke…" Kael's curiosity piqued as he wondered what his father and their neighbor were discussing, hoping it wasn't related to his peculiar behavior. He was also relieved that he'd left his stick in the forest, as returning with a bloodstained weapon would have been difficult to explain.

"I don't know, some boring adult stuff. Something about the village that's close to here. And I guess I can let you borrow my extra sword… But you have to make sure you don't break it! And you can't keep it!"

Tristan dashed off as soon as the last word left his lips, presumably to fetch the spare "sword" he'd mentioned. Sighing, Kael hopped off the bed, deciding he'd have to indulge his brother's game of knights to assuage his parents' suspicions. He ambled over to Tristan's room, accepted the additional "sword," and promised repeatedly that he wouldn't break it.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Following his brother outside, Kael spotted his father conversing with their neighbor near the fence.

"Wait a second, I want to hear what they're talking about," Kael whispered to Tristan.

"What? Why? It's boring. Wow, dad was right. You really are trying to be like an adult, aren't you? Especially if you're even trying to be interested in that stuff."

Kael merely shrugged and approached the two men. As he drew closer, their words became audible.

"Apparently she was able to reattach the finger."

"What? Did it work?"

"The finger? Good as new, I was told."

"Wow, that's… that's amazing. What is she doing in a small village like that?"

"That's what I said! It doesn't make any- Oh, hey there, Kael. I heard you've been working hard," Mr. Miller remarked when he noticed Kael approaching.

"Yup!" Kael responded with the most exaggerated enthusiasm he could muster. "Were you talking about a finger?" he inquired curiously.

"Indeed we were. There's an old lady in the neighboring village who can reattach body parts!"

"Whoa!" Kael exclaimed, finally getting the hang of acting his age. "Like magic?"

"Exactly that! It's magic!" Mr. Miller replied, mirroring Kael's energy level. At least Mr. Miller seemed to be enjoying their exchange…

A sudden idea struck Kael. If there was a healer nearby, it wasn't every day that one stumbled upon a potential magic teacher. He felt a twinge of guilt and embarrassment for what he was about to do, but he knew it was necessary.

"Wow! Cool! I'm going to go play with Tristan now. Bye, Mr. Miller!" Kael cheerfully bade farewell to the two men and joined Tristan, who was waiting for him with uncharacteristic patience nearby.

"See, I told you you'd get bored of their boring conversation," Tristan declared smugly.

"Oh yeah? Well, I know I won't get bored of defeating you!" Kael retorted, hoisting his stick and wincing inwardly at the childish taunt. He had to remind himself that it was all for the sake of protecting his family and exacting revenge.

Tristan caught his drift and readied his own stick. "Duh, how can you get bored of something that could never happen!" With that, he charged toward Kael.

As Tristan sprinted toward him and swung his stick down at Kael's head, Kael took the precious few moments to meticulously plan his moves. He exaggeratedly blocked the blow, finding it difficult to suppress his instincts and act in slow motion. Then, he leisurely swung his stick at Tristan's side. Tristan leaped back to dodge it. With some space between them, Kael glanced over at his father, who was indeed watching them while conversing with Mr. Miller.

When Tristan lunged at Kael again, Kael took a step back, then toppled onto his back with a theatrical yelp. He rolled over and groaned in feigned pain.

"Are you dead?" Tristan inquired, prodding Kael with the stick in his hand.

"It hurts," Kael whined.

Tristan, as the older sibling, felt the sudden grip of panic. Nobody wanted to be blamed for injuring their younger brother, particularly while under their father's watchful eye. He looked up at their dad and hastily blurted out, "Kael tripped and hurt himself!" in an attempt to absolve himself of any connection to Kael's injury.

Kael's father sighed and ambled over to him. Squatting down beside Kael, he asked, "Where does it hurt?"

"It's… it's my back…" Kael tried his best to sound apprehensive. So far, his plan was unfolding flawlessly.

"Okay, let's take a look," his father replied, helping Kael onto his side so he could lift his shirt and examine his back. Upon seeing the state of Kael's back, his father's face turned ashen. "What…"

Kael wasn't certain what his back looked like—it was quite challenging to see one's own back—but he had a fair idea based on the pain when he'd sustained the injury and the wounds he'd suffered in his past life. As Mr. Miller also approached to assess the situation, Kael was sure it must have looked horrific.

"Oh my lord… Thomas, that looks serious. That's no mere tripping injury," Mr. Miller observed.

"Yeah…" Kael's dad responded, regaining his composure. "Kael… What happened?"

"Oh. Umm… Well, I was in the forest yesterday…"

"And? Go on."

"Well, I clambered up a tree. When I reached the top… I slipped. I fell to the ground, and landed on a log. It hurt really bad..."

"Why didn't you tell me or Mom?" His dad inquired, flabbergasted.

"I didn't want to get in trouble." Kael responded. At this point, he was euphoric. He was no thespian. In fact, his entire life had been dedicated to perfecting the art of stabbing people. However, he felt this performance was worthy of being staged before royalty.

"Why would you get in trouble for… Okay, forget it. Is there anywhere else that hurts? Is anything else bothering you?"

Kael's heart raced as he worried that this might not be enough to convince his father to take him to the healer. He hastily conjured up another ailment.

"Umm… well… sometimes, after moving around a lot, my legs suddenly stop working."

"Your legs stop working?"

"Yes, they stop doing what I want for a bit. Like just now, if I'm standing, I just fall."

Upon hearing this, Miller interjected once more. "Thomas, that sounds bad. If he loses the use of his legs… I think you should take him to the healer."

Thomas nodded solemnly, his face etched with concern.

"I have a cart and ox you can borrow. They'll only be slightly faster than walking, but at least you won't have to carry your boy. I'll bring them over, and you can set off in the morning."

"Thanks, Miller. But what about the farm?"

"I can take care of it, Dad!" Tristan exclaimed, thrilled at the prospect.

"That you can!" Miller agreed with the young boy, then turned back to Thomas. "You'll only be gone for a day, and it's not harvest season. The crops won't stop growing just because you're not around for a short while."

"Yeah, okay. You have a point. Thanks again, Miller."

"Don't mention it. It's what neighbors are for. I'll go fetch them now," he said, and departed.

"Well, Kael. Let's get you to your bed, I suppose. You're not allowed to walk until you get looked at by the healer, understand?" His dad carefully scooped him up.

"Okay," Kael replied, struggling to contain his inner jubilation.

After tucking Kael into bed, his father went downstairs to discuss the situation with his mom. Now alone, Kael finally had a moment to ponder how he would approach this mysterious mage. He had no recollection of her from his previous life, but it was unlikely that his five-year-old self would have taken an interest in such matters. Moreover, no one had ever sustained severe enough injuries to necessitate a healer.

If the healer didn't already have an apprentice, it would be a breeze to be accepted as one. In her eyes, he would appear to be a prodigious magic savant. And who wouldn't want to mentor a budding genius?