Chapter 12 — Before the New Stage 2
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Kael Grenfort:
I was in the yard, trying out fire magic.
A small flame danced at my fingertips — orange, warm, alive. I concentrated, shaped it into a ball, then let it dissipate. Fire was easier than I expected. It obeyed, but cautiously — like a wild animal that hadn't fully trusted me yet.
Okay... what's next?
I flipped through the book. My eyes stopped on a page.
Flight magic.
My heart skipped a beat.
Flight. Actual flight.
I read the instructions carefully. Mana circulation, weight distribution, balance, and most importantly — the belief that the air would hold you.
Alright. Let's try.
I closed my eyes. Felt the mana core pulsing in my chest. Slowly, I directed the flow downward, to my feet, imagining the air solidifying beneath me.
Nothing happened.
I tried again. Focused harder. Imagined myself rising, weightless, floating.
Still nothing.
Come on, I thought. You've done harder things. You created a mana core. You survived a snake the size of a tree. You can do this.
I took a deep breath. Let go of all doubt. Imagined not just rising — but being in the air. As if I belonged there.
My feet left the ground.
My eyes shot open. I was hovering — barely, just a few centimeters, but I was hovering. The air beneath my feet felt solid, like invisible glass.
"Whoa..." I whispered.
Then I lost focus and dropped back down. My knees buckled, but I caught myself.
A wide grin spread across my face.
Again.
This time I rose higher — half a meter. My heart pounded with excitement. I could feel the air holding me, supporting me, like gentle hands.
I tried to move forward.
The moment I shifted my weight, the balance broke. I tilted, flailed, and landed hard on my backside.
"Oof!"
I lay there for a moment, staring at the sky, laughing.
I flew. Not far, not high, but I flew.
I got up and tried again. And again. And again.
By the end of the session, I could hover steadily for a few seconds and glide a short distance before losing control. My mana reserves were nearly empty, my body was trembling, but my heart was full.
This is incredible.
---
Another month passed.
April turned into May. The weather grew warmer, the days longer. I practiced every day — water daggers, wind whirlwinds, fire sparks, and always, always flight.
I could now hover for almost a minute and glide across the yard without falling. It wasn't real flight yet, but it was close.
I need to train my body too, I thought one morning. Sehr alone isn't enough. If I can't control my own body, how can I control magic?
But the spellbook had no physical training instructions. Only breathing techniques.
Breathing. Fine. Let's start there.
I sat in the yard, legs crossed, back straight. Inhale — deep, slow, filling my lungs completely. Exhale — steady, controlled, emptying every last bit of air.
My lungs burned. My chest felt tight. It wasn't as easy as it looked.
Inhale. Hold. Exhale.
My head began to spin.
Inhale. Hold longer. Exhale slower.
Sweat formed on my forehead. My muscles screamed for oxygen. Every instinct told me to gasp, to breathe fast, to stop.
No, I told myself. Control. Master your body.
I held the breath until my vision blurred.
Then — release.
Air rushed into my lungs like water breaking through a dam. The world snapped back into focus. My heart pounded, but my body felt... clearer. Sharper.
Again.
I repeated the cycle. Each time, it became easier. Each time, I held longer. Each time, the dizziness came later, left sooner.
After an hour, I lay on the grass, chest heaving, staring at the clouds drifting lazily across the blue sky.
This is the foundation, I realized. Mana flows through breath. If I can't control my breath, I can't control mana.
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Gravity Magic
I was flipping through the book again when a page caught my attention.
Gravity magic.
I read the description twice.
"Very few people can master this type of magic. It requires an innate connection to the fundamental forces of the world. Even among high-ranking mages, gravity magic is considered extremely rare and dangerous."
My fingers trembled slightly.
Dangerous. Rare. Only a few can use it.
I looked at the apple tree at the far end of the yard. Ripe red apples hung from its branches, swaying gently in the breeze.
Should I try?
The book said it was dangerous. But the book also said creating a mana core had a 90% chance of death. And I did that. At six years old.
What's one more risk?
I closed my eyes. Extended my hand toward the apple tree. Felt the mana core pulse.
Instead of shaping the mana into an element — fire, water, wind — I shaped it into weight. Into pull. Into the invisible force that held the world together.
The air around my hand shimmered.
I opened my eyes. The apple — the one I was focusing on — was trembling. Slightly, but visibly.
It's working!
I concentrated harder. Directed the gravity field to lift the apple from the branch.
With a soft snap, the stem broke. The apple floated in the air for a moment, suspended by my will.
I smiled.
Then I pulled it toward me.
The apple shot forward — faster than I expected. Much faster.
I tried to slow it. I couldn't.
It reached my hand in an instant —
And exploded.
Pieces of apple flew in every direction. Juice splattered across my face. Pulp stuck to my clothes. The core — the very center — landed at my feet with a soft thud.
I stood there, frozen. Apple bits dripping from my nose.
"Ahh noooo..." I sighed, holding my head.
I wiped my face with my sleeve, picked a piece of apple from my hair, and laughed at myself.
I think this needs to be used very carefully.
---
I decided to try again. More carefully this time.
I focused on another apple. This time, I would only lift it. Not pull. Just lift.
The mana flowed. The apple trembled. Rose. Stayed suspended.
I held it there for ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty.
My head began to ache. The mana drain was enormous — much larger than any other spell I'd tried.
But I didn't let go.
Forty seconds. Fifty.
The edges of my vision darkened.
Just a little longer...
Sixty seconds.
The apple dropped. My knees buckled. The world tilted.
Something was wrong.
My chest — it was tight. Too tight. Like a giant hand was squeezing my lungs. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't draw air.
What... what's happening...
My vision tunneled. The yard, the tree, the sky — all shrinking into a small, distant circle.
I tried to call for Mother. My mouth opened, but no sound came out.
My legs gave way. I fell to my knees, gasping, grasping at my throat.
Not enough air... can't breathe...
The world spun. Colors bled into each other. The sky and the ground became one.
Mother... please...
My hands clawed at the grass. My lungs burned. My head pounded.
Then — nothing.
---
I opened my eyes slowly.
The ceiling was familiar. My room. My bed. The afternoon light filtering through the window.
Mother was sitting beside me. Her face was pale, her eyes red — she had been crying.
"Ahhh... Mother... what happened?" I asked, my voice heavy, weak.
---
Joanna:
Uffff... thank the heavens. He's awake.
My heart finally stopped racing. I had been sitting here for hours, watching him breathe, praying for him to open his eyes.
"Ohh, my child," I said softly, reaching out to stroke his hair. "Don't push yourself so hard."
He looked at me with those golden eyes — so bright, even now.
"Nothing serious happened. You just used too much magic. Your body couldn't handle it."
I paused, watching his expression. He looked disappointed in himself.
"And... there's good news," I added.
His eyes brightened.
"I think you've advanced to two-star."
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Kael Grenfort:
"Ohho!" I shouted, my eyes lighting up. My weakness disappeared, replaced by pure excitement. "Good! I'm growing so fast!"
I jumped up from the bed —
And immediately floated.
Mother's mana wrapped around me, lifting me gently, carrying me back to the bed.
"Hey," she said coldly, her eyes sharp. "Stay in your place. Rest."
She turned and walked toward the door.
"Yes, Mother..." I muttered after her, sinking back into the pillows.
The door closed.
I lay there, staring at the ceiling, a smile spreading across my face.
Two-star. In just over a year.
I'm growing fast.
Maybe too fast.
But the excitement was stronger than the fear. I closed my eyes and let the exhaustion pull me into sleep.
When I woke again, the room was dark. My body was heavy, but my mind was clear.
Tomorrow, I thought. Tomorrow, I'll train again. But carefully. Mother is right.
I need to be patient.
I have time.
I have to.
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