The heavy, snow-laden clouds of winter had finally broken, giving way to the damp chill of early spring. But the turning of the seasons brought little relief to Neo.
He stood by the arched window of his bedroom, staring blankly at the melting frost in the gardens. It had been nearly ten months since the twins were born, and eight months since Nora and her family had returned to the Crescent Moon territory.
"Waaaaaaah!"
A sharp, furious wail echoed down the corridor. Caelum.
Neo rubbed his temples. "He despises me."
It was a frustrating phenomenon. Whenever Cassian or Sylvia held the boy, Caelum was perfectly content. But the moment Neo entered the room, the infant would scream as if his life were in danger. Lyra, conversely, demanded Neo's presence. She would stubbornly cling to his tunic, perfectly at peace, while her brother wailed.
A maid appeared in the doorway, looking apologetic.
"The Duchess is asking for you in the sunroom, Young Master. Lady Lyra refuses to sleep."
"Duty calls," Neo muttered.
He walked down the bustling hallway, feeling the familiar ache of magical fatigue deep in his bones. Balancing his training with his duties to his siblings was pushing his physical limits. His vitality barely kept him from collapsing at the end of each day.
In the sunroom, Sylvia sat on the sofa, looking weary but composed. Lyra squirmed in her arms. In the nearby crib, Caelum was happily playing with a wooden block.
The moment Neo crossed the threshold, Lyra's blue eyes locked onto him. She reached out, making desperate grabbing motions.
Simultaneously, Caelum dropped his toy, looked at Neo, and burst into tears.
Neo stopped in his tracks.
"I didn't even look at him."
Sylvia let out a tired laugh. She handed Lyra to Neo and went to soothe her son. "He doesn't hate you, Neo. Your mana is just too heavy. He can feel the pressure of it. He'll adapt eventually."
Neo cradled Lyra against his chest. She instantly stopped fussing, burying her face in his shirt.
'Heavy mana,' Neo thought, gently patting his sister's back. 'That's one way to put it.'
His training in the underground bunker had slammed into a massive wall. He was stuck at the absolute peak of the Initiate Rank. The energy inside his core no longer felt like a flowing current; it felt like liquid mercury, dense and unyielding. Expanding it further felt like trying to push solid concrete against a brick wall.
But a stagnant core wasn't his most pressing issue.
Nora's sixth birthday was exactly three weeks away. The Crescent Moon Marquisate was hosting a massive celebration, and the Draven family was expected to attend to formally present the engaged couple to northern society.
Neo stared blankly at the wall, his mind working through the problem. What could he possibly give her? A doll or a silk dress was out of the question. Nora was a genius who could shatter glass with a mere thought. She had given him a Frost-Vein Core—a priceless, volatile catalyst that had fundamentally shaped his growth. He had to match that weight.
"Mama," Neo asked quietly, careful not to wake the dozing infant in his arms.
Sylvia turned, gently rocking a hiccuping Caelum. "Yes, sweetheart?"
"What does Nora like?" Neo kept his voice carefully neutral.
"I want her to really like her gift."
Sylvia smiled, her eyes softening.
"That is very sweet, Neo. Elara tells me Nora spends most of her time alone in her room. She gets overwhelmed easily by loud noises and ambient magic. But she loves quiet things. She spends hours just staring out the window at the night sky. She finds the stars peaceful."
Neo blinked. Stars.
His mind flashed back to the library, to the tiny, glowing blue mana butterfly he had woven to calm her down. She hadn't just liked the light; she had craved the controlled, refined silence of his mana. It didn't hurt her sensitive perception.
A blueprint began to form in his mind. It was ambitious. It would require a level of micro-control he hadn't yet mastered, and it would likely drain him to the point of collapse.
'I know what to make her.'
For the next two weeks, Neo sacrificed whatever little sleep he was getting.
Every night, he slipped down into the cold stone of his bunker. He didn't try to expand his capacity or practice telekinesis. He focused entirely his massive mana pool on a single, agonizingly delicate project.
Sitting on the floor, he held a fist-sized chunk of un-enchanted quartz crystal.
He didn't just push his mana into the stone; he attempted to weave it. Drawing on the advanced spatial theories he had memorized, Neo tried to construct a self-sustaining magical matrix inside the quartz.
It was a grueling process. He used a fraction of his ice affinity to cool the interior, then meticulously channeled condensed blue mana to create suspended, microscopic points of light. He was essentially trying to build a localized pocket of his own refined, silent mana.
The quartz shuddered in his hands. A harsh fissure cracked down the center, and the blue light instantly died.
Neo groaned, dropping the ruined stone onto the floor. A sharp pain throbbed behind his eyes.
'Too much pressure,' he thought, wiping a bead of sweat from his chin. 'The containment matrix isn't stable. If I push too much ambient energy into the structure, the vessel shatters.'
It took five more ruined crystals, three debilitating mana-depletion migraines, and nearly two weeks of relentless, maddening focus to find the balance.
On the night before their departure for the north, Neo sat in his bunker, holding his breath.
Resting in his palms was a flawless sphere of enchanted glass, quietly procured from his mother's unused alchemy supplies.
He closed his eyes and sank deep into his core. He grabbed a heavy, liquid strand of his mana and threaded it into the glass with surgical precision.
The sphere didn't crack. It vibrated with a faint, steady hum.
Neo opened his eyes.
Inside the clear glass, suspended in absolute stillness, were dozens of brilliant points of sapphire light. They looked exactly like trapped stars. They didn't pulse chaotically; they glowed with a serene, perfect calm.
It was a piece of his own pacifying mana, permanently sealed inside a physical object. A portable sanctuary of quiet. If the noise of the world ever overwhelmed Nora, she wouldn't need to grab his sleeve. She could just hold the sphere and drown out the chaos.
A tired, genuine smile touched his lips.
[ High-level artifact creation successful... ]
[ Profound understanding of Mana Compression achieved... ]
[ Breakthrough Initiated... ]
Neo's eyes widened.
The heavy, suffocating liquid mana inside his Dantian surged. It felt as though a dam had finally given way. The sheer density of his core expanded violently, shattering the invisible wall that had held him back for months.
[ Rank Up: Initiate (Peak Stage) -> Apprentice (Early Stage) ]
[ ATTRIBUTES UPDATED ]
Strength: 11
Agility: 11
Vitality: 15
Intelligence: 80
Mana Capacity: 1450 -> 1650
Neo let out a breathless, exhausted laugh that echoed off the stone walls.
He had broken through. He was a six-year-old Apprentice Mage. The catalyst hadn't been a battle or a life-or-death struggle, but the sheer, agonizing focus required to craft a single gift.
He carefully slipped the glowing glass sphere into a padded velvet pouch and tied it securely to his belt.
Standing up, his muscles ached, but the energy coursing through his expanded core felt lighter, purer.
'Happy Birthday, Nora,' he thought, turning toward the stairs.
'Let's see if this is enough.'