Torvyn's grin grew. "Persistent little thing. Alright, come on."
He led Kaelith to a quiet corner where the mage stood, sipping from a cup.
"Lady Seraphine," Torvyn said, bowing. "This is Kaelith. He loved your show."
Seraphine glanced down, eyes narrowing. "A kid? What's he want?"
Kaelith stepped up, chin high. "I wanna learn magic."
She laughed, sharp and crackling. "Oh? And why should I bother?"
He paused, then said, "'Cause I can already do it."
Torvyn's brows shot up. Seraphine's smile vanished. "Prove it."
Kaelith checked around—no one watching. He held out his hand, focusing. Ignis.
A spark flared, then a small flame flickered, wobbly but real.
Seraphine's eyes widened. "Well, damn. A natural."
Torvyn gaped. "Kaelith… how—"
"Practiced," Kaelith said, shrugging.
Seraphine knelt, meeting his gaze. "You've got something, kid. But magic's no game. It's work."
"I can do it," he said, steady.
She studied him, then stood. "Maybe. I'm here a few days. If your folks say yes, I'll give you a lesson."
Kaelith beamed. "Thank you!"
As she walked off, Torvyn gripped his shoulder. "You're a surprise, lad. But careful—magic's got teeth."
Kaelith nodded, mind racing. This was it—his real start.
That night, festival fading, Kaelith lay in bed, the flame's heat still alive in his thoughts.
But another memory crept in.
Kazu, hunched over his laptop, screen casting shadows on his flushed face. His breath hitched, hand moving fast. Shame burned, but he couldn't stop—trapped in the cycle, alone.
After, he'd slump, hating himself. That was his life—want, regret, repeat.
Kaelith squeezed his eyes shut. Not here.
He had a shot now—to be more, to fix what Kazu broke. Magic could be his way out.
But the hunger growled, a shadow he couldn't shake.
He turned to the wall. Tomorrow, lessons with Seraphine. Tomorrow, control.
Maybe then, he'd quiet the beast inside.
Kaelith lay in bed, the festival's fading echoes drifting through the cracked window. Lanterns still glowed faintly outside, but his mind burned brighter—Seraphine's promise of a lesson searing into his thoughts.
A fire mage. His teacher. Not some water trickster like he'd half-expected from his manga days, but a woman who wielded flame like a whip. Her sharp eyes, her smirk—they stuck with him, stirring something he couldn't name.
He clenched the blanket, fangs pressing into his lip. Magic was his path—control, power, a way to bury Kazu's shame. But the hunger growled low, a beast pacing in his gut, and he knew it wouldn't stay quiet forever.
Sleep didn't come easy. His toddler body demanded rest, but his thirty-four-year-old mind spun, weaving plans and fears.
Kazu, hunched in his dark apartment, the laptop's hum his only companion. His sister's voice cut through—'You're disgusting'—and he'd flinch, clicking away anyway. Alone, always alone.
He squeezed his eyes shut. Not here. Not now.
The fire mage's lesson was tomorrow. He'd focus on that—leave the past where it belonged.
Morning broke with the smaller sun's golden glow seeping through the shutters. Kaelith sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes, the ward's cool touch steady on his skin.
Veyra was already in the kitchen, stirring a pot of porridge, her dark hair tied back. She smiled as he toddled in. "Up early, Kaelith? Hungry?"
He nodded, climbing onto a chair. The porridge smelled bland, but he'd eat—his body needed fuel, even if his hunger craved something richer.
Talren stumbled in, shirt untucked, hair mussed. His hazel eyes were bleary, a faint grin tugging his lips. "Morning, little man. Festival wore me out."
Veyra shot him a look—sharp, fleeting. "You were out late."
"Helping clean up," Talren said, too quick. He grabbed a mug, avoiding her gaze.
Kaelith spooned his porridge, ears sharp. Something was off—Veyra's tone, Talren's dodge. He'd heard fights like this before, back in Tokyo, his parents' voices slicing through thin walls.
He's lying, Kaelith thought. And she knows.
Veyra turned back to the pot, her hum gone. Silence thickened, heavy as the steam.
Talren sipped his water, then ruffled Kaelith's hair. "Heard you pestered Torvyn about that mage. What's her name—Seraphine?"
"Yeah," Kaelith mumbled, toddler voice clumsy. "She's gonna teach me."
Veyra glanced over, surprised. "Teach you? Magic?"
"If you say yes," he added fast, watching her.
Talren chuckled. "Kid's got ambition. Let him try—might keep him out of trouble."
Veyra hesitated, then nodded. "If she's willing. But you stay safe, Kaelith."
He grinned, fangs hidden. Safe's not the goal. Strong is.