*** Kiara ***

  She had finally come up with a plan on how to find Tanja. Or at the very least, what could be called a first idea on how it might be possible to find a single person in the world, when you know neither their name, nor how they look, or even what gender they are.

  In her past life, she had seen what fame could do. More often than not, questionable and sometimes even outright terrible things. However, there had been exceptions, instances where fame had been used as a platform for good by people with a moral compass who took a stand.

  Admittedly, Petro’s adventure stories were probably also somewhat to blame. Having heard so many tales of great heroes and of how they traveled all over the world and met so many different people and did good, somewhat inspired her. She was ready to admit she was a dreamer, and hopefully would always be.

  So, the idea was to become a famous adventurer and then use her fame to search for her lost love. It sounded simple so far. Yeah, there were a lot of problems with that plan, holes and gaps big enough to drive a carriage right through, but so far it was the best she had come up with, and the problem she was trying to solve was not an easy one.

  “Becoming a famous adventurer and traveling and exploring magical lands also sounded a little bit like having a good time.” She thought with a smile. It was a new world full of magic and monsters, wonders and gods, and unexplored lands no one had ever set foot on.

  The other idea those stories, especially the story of the orphan twins and another similar story in which a poor man drank out of a magical spring, had inspired her to, instead of visualizing Mana, she now believed the way forward was to absorb Mana into herself and use it to form her own crystal.

  Both stories depicted an external source of Mana of a what is to be presumed a quite significant amount. Also, in both cases, the sources were digested and initially led to negative short-term consequences described as similar to a sickness, before the core was formed.

  Her one theory so far was that the exposure was too much for their body to handle, and they both poisoned themselves at the same time, as giving their body the necessary push to adapt to the unfamiliar stimulation by forming their own core.

  “Yeah, and my only evidence is in the form of two adventure stories written for children,” Kiara thought, frustrated.

  If the theory was sound, the goal forward might be to meditate close to the barrier or while laying her hands on it and trying to pull the Mana into herself. She refused to believe that her digestive track was needed for the absorption of Mana. It wasn’t impossible, of course, but it just felt wrong and would be greatly disappointing. Magical worlds were not supposed to work like that.

  On the other hand, if she were wrong, maybe she would just poison herself. Maybe there were additional requirements she was not aware of. Maybe she would form her own core, but it would be incredible weak and she would cripple her long-term potential. Why did people use crystals if they could form their crystalline core on their own? For now, she simply did not have enough information to make such a far-reaching decision.

  *** Sarok ***

  He was ready to admit Kiara was special. In the first months, she had cried nearly all the time, and then she suddenly stopped. At first, he had feared her mother-in-law might have been involved, after what Maya told her about her childhood, he wouldn’t have put it past her. She had spent some time alone with their child, and after that, the crying had mostly stopped.

  There were still some nightmares, but Kiara seemed overall happier and was recovering from whatever had troubled her.

  If his wife were not interested in mending and improving the relationship with her mother, he would not have tolerated her as much in their house as he did.

  It was the same old story. Some years back, Magdalena had also tried to meddle with Petro. Endless tirades of “A good weaver starts as early as possible,” “The younger the child, the more malleable their Mana channels still are and the more potential they will have later on,” “Don’t you want what’s best for your child?” Especially the last one made him furious. He had to suppress the urge to lash out at his mother-in-law. She had to know how much such a statement would hurt Maya and make her doubt herself, and that riled him up.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  However, with Petro, it had started shortly before his fourth birthday. At this time, she had been able to communicate with Petro at least on a basic level. Unbeknownst to them, she had him undergo several small tests. Tests designed to test young children in their ability to manipulate Mana. Those tests came in the form of old handcrafted wooden blocks.

  They have been used for a long time in the Thornwing House to evaluate the younger generations. He was unfamiliar with them and thought it was a nice gesture when Magdalena brought them with her for her play time with Petro. His wife had been furious when she found out.

  Petro was a great kid, and he was proud to call him his son. He looked out for his sister and knew very well what was right and what was wrong and acted accordingly – well, at least most of the time, and when it truly mattered. However, he was not patient and detested just sitting around and listening to something that didn’t interest him. He needed an active element, something he could do or a warm hug, which helped him relax and wind down.

  “Yeah, the teachers would have their hands full next year.” Thought Sarok, and he could already feel the future headache forming.

  What he did not really understand was why Magdalena was already so interested in Kiara. Yes, it was true, weaving on the highest level was mostly done by women. Something to do with them having a higher total Mana capacity or something like that. It had never really mattered to him. However, Kiara was just about a year old and had just spoken her first word. She shouldn’t be interested in her yet.

  That is, if Kiara is indeed a normal child, and by now, he wasn’t entirely sure of that himself. He loved her unconditionally and wholeheartedly. No doubt in his mind about it.

  But he had been raised in a large family with a lot of younger siblings and had always enjoyed his time with his nephews and nieces as well. He knew how children behaved, and Kiara was not playing her part, or at least not to perfection.

  She was overall too well-behaved. He could count the number of times she had woken them up in the middle of the night on one hand and never without a reason. Before he had found his little trick with the cooking instructions, she had sometimes spent hours listening to the stories he read or told to her. Magic seemed to interest her very much. Her eyes always got a certain gleam, and her gaze was clued to his lips, as if to make sure she did not miss a single word.

  Maybe for once, Magdalena might be really onto something. He wasn’t inherently against weaving. It wasn’t his way, but that didn’t mean it was weaker or wrong. If his daughter’s interests lay in the more academic field of magic, he would support her a hundred percent, and as Magdalena always said, the earlier the better.

  There was no way in hell Maya would be fine with her mother and daughter spending a lot of time together, but maybe he could slip those old wooden tools and maybe one or two not child-appropriate magic scrolls by her. He wasn’t sure if there were any beginner weaving scrolls in the house, but he would look.

  Without a fully formed core, there was no risk of her doing anything dangerous after all.

  *** Kiara ***

  Her father was behaving strangely this morning. The first thing he did when he came into her room was to throw an old cloth over the nothingness orb. Then he brought in a locked chest and placed it close to her crib, and pulled out an ancient-looking key, which displayed some carvings on its side. While doing so, he looked around again and again nervously, to make sure nobody was watching.

  Then he looked directly at her, signaled her to be quiet, and then winked at her.

  “Has my dad just winked at me?!? What was going on? And what’s in that chest?” Kiara was both half stunned and at the same time damn curious as to what was going on and what was in the chest.

  The key slid into its opening and then gently started glowing. A near inaudible click could be heard. The room was so silent you could have heard a pin drop. Tension lay in the air. Slowly, Sarok opened the chest.

  He looked around once more and then smiled at her, before reaching into the chest and pulling something out.

  “Wait, are those wooden toys?” she thought, now completely thrown in a loop. “Why were wooden toys locked away, and why was her father so secretive about them?”

  He placed most of them with her normal toys, where they blended in perfectly. She had mostly ignored them so far, but maybe now she needed to take a closer look after all.

  Then he placed a single cube into her crib. She just looked at him, flabbergasted.

  “I hope you like your new toys.” He smiled and took the chest with him, and left.

  Was this an elaborate plot to get her to play with her toys? For whatever reason, the story of an English king who had protected potatoes with guards to convince his people of the value of the plant, after they had been unwilling to try it out before, came to her mind.

  Could this be the same? At first, she dismissed the wooden blocks and toys, and now her father was trying to entice her into giving them another chance by pretending they were special or valuable.

  Slowly, she crawled over to the block her father had left her.