Thunk!

  My arrow pierced the head of a deer standing nervously amongst the trees. It staggered for a moment before lifelessly hitting the ground.

  Nuzzled in warm clothes and a cloak, I ambled over to my prey—my prize. I’d been hunting it for some time now, and I’d succeeded in my first hunt by myself.

  “I passed the test, Quintin,” I said as I examined how best to butcher the deer. Using my knife, I started carving its flesh as I lost myself to daydreams and memories once.

  I was nine years old and would turn ten soon.

  Quintin didn’t let me do any real hunting when we first started training. We’d made a bow together, but I never used it outside of our yard. On hunts, I could only watch him, answer questions, and butcher whatever he killed.

  The butchering was supposed to be a lesson about the sanctity of life, but I found myself numb to the process. I didn’t need an emotional reason to kill an animal. If I were hungry, I’d kill or steal without hesitation. If the option was either that or dying, it was obvious.

  Emotions didn’t need to play a part—not that they really played a part in any of my decisions.

  Quintin deliberately slowed my training because of Amalia. Even when he suggested taking me on more adventures, she kept using my age and race as justification to keep me contained. It was annoying, honestly.

  Around seven, things changed. Quintin let me go on more hunts with him, and he put more consistent time into training me in archery under his direct supervision.

  At a certain point, I learned to use a bow with hardly any guidance. All I needed were a few pointers and examples from Quintin, and I “remembered” how to do it—fragments of my past life, whatever it was, guided me. Still, my body couldn’t keep up with my skill, so I needed constant practice to align reality with what I could do in my head.

  When Quintin was confident in my skills and stamina, he let me help him on hunts with tracking and picking prey. Then, I started taking over the lead role and the shooting.

  Once he witnessed me kill and butcher my first animal without his input with no issues, he brought me to areas with monsters.

  Mana existed in all living things. When it condensed too much in one place, it formed a mana-rich environment referred to as a “miasma.” It was in areas filled with miasma where monsters and demons were usually born and thrived.

  Mana sometimes condensed too much in animals and plants, turning them into monsters. They were ranked on a Tier list and given a level based on the amount of corruption they endured, their strength, and a variety of other factors.

  Demons were humans who died in a place thick with miasma or who died harboring intense negative emotions that corrupted their mana and engulfed their souls. If any of those instances occurred, the mana in a person would bubble and produce a crystal inside them. At that point, given my real-world experience, a demon would then crawl out of its host body like a parasite. According to Quintin, more than one could emerge from a person in certain instances depending on the circumstances.

  I’d seen Quintin kill many weak monsters but no demons—not since the shipwreck when he saved my life. Given how they were created, it made sense that there were more monsters than demons.

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  My thoughts trailed as I packed the butchered deer in a bag and trudged home. My ears flickered unconsciously as wind and snow battered against them. They never fared well in the winter.

  “Having a codex would make this so much easier,” I grumbled as I shifted the weighty bag on my shoulders. Its straps dug against my collarbone. “Only a few years left to go. I wonder what color my eyes will be when I finally awaken?”

  I passed by a small pond and scrutinized my reflection. My irises, black due to my lack of mana, gazed back at me. Frowning, I looked away and continued the long, tedious task of walking home.

  There’s brown, green, violet, orange, grey, and white. That’s the order Quintin gave me for mana levels. I mulled over. Awakening meant a child could start off at any color and build from there. Most people awakened with brown eyes and a select few with green. Any higher at an initial awakening is considered a “miracle.” I probably shouldn’t hope for much more than that. I paused. But both my biological parents had high mana since it’s based on eye color. I think my dad had orange eyes, and my mother had grey. Maybe I should be more hopeful. Then again, it’d piss me off if I expected greatness and nothing came of it. Better to be realistic than optimistic.

  Annoyed, I shook my head, readjusted the straps of my bags, and forced myself to think about something else.

  It would still be a while before I could use mana.

  ?

  “Are you hurt?” I heard Amalia call to me as I entered our property a while later, lost in thought. She smashed into me, hugging me, and pushed my chin up to look over my face. “Scrapes? Bumps? Cuts? Are you sick?”

  “Nothing went wrong,” I said. “I’m just a little colder than I was this morning. My ears feel like they’ll fall off,” I joked. “Maybe that’d be a good thing.”

  Amalia immediately started rubbing them with her fingers. “Better?”

  I nodded as a soothing feeling registered in my brain. It felt like I was being caressed by warm angels.

  “Good girl.” Quintin went to pat the top of my head. It made me flinch. I recoiled, brushing his hand away before he could touch me, and he laughed. “Sorry, sorry. I forgot you don’t like that anymore. Lemme see your haul.”

  I took off my pack and offered it to Quintin. The horns of the deer dangled from the back. We walked into his shed beside our home and unpacked my goods. The pelt and meat were neatly stored and cut, just like I’d been taught.

  “Oh, well done,” said Quintin. “I’ll sell most of this to the butcher and save half the coins for when you get your codex. How does that sound?”

  “Oh, awesome! Perfect!” I yelped. Quintin had been saving up some coins for me for a while. This was generally our agreement, so I didn’t protest the terms. However, noticing how I’d subconsciously acted childish without much thought, my cheeks flushed red, and I cleared my throat. “Th-That would be nice, I suppose.”

  Amalia and Quintin smiled at me. I looked away from them, embarrassed.

  “You did an amazing job,” said Quintin. He placed an arm on my shoulder. “And you’ll be ten soon. Your mana should awaken within the year. I think it’s time I started teaching you how to use a sword if you want. Let you get a head start before your awakening. That sound good?”

  My neck tingled. “Really?!” I cleared my throat again. “Is that so? That would be nice, I suppose.”

  Quintin chuckled. “Don’t expect too much from me. I’m not anything special.”

  “Don’t put yourself down,” I pouted. “I don’t like that.”

  Quintin went to pat my head again, but I moved away from him at the last second. “Right, right. Sorry,” he muttered. “Puberty…”

  Something like that…

  Instinctively, I rubbed my scalp where Quintin nearly touched me. A dark look passed across my face. I won’t be able to hide this forever. I don’t know if I can afford to waste any more time. I need to know more about devils. I can’t keep putting this off.

  My voice dropped to a whisper. “If possible, since I know I’ve never asked and I felt you all have avoided telling me…could you…teach me about…me? W-Why you adopted me, and about devils.” I suddenly felt flustered, which irritated me. “I know…it’s an awkward thing to talk about but…I’m old enough now, right? I’ve been putting off asking because…like I said, it’s awkward. But I don’t want you guys to think it’s because of you all.” I cut myself off. “I’m rambling. Sorry. Forget about it.”

  “No, don’t apologize.” Quintin knelt before me so we could make eye contact. “Amalia and I agreed not to discuss it until you brought it up. I’m surprised you didn’t ask sooner.”

  “Really?” I looked at Amalia, and she nodded. “Then…please?”

  “Right.” Quintin appeared a little worried. “Give me some time, okay? There’s a place I need to show you first.”