Samuel didn’t plan to test his magic.

  It started the way all dangerous things do—with a thought he didn’t question.

  He was lying on the floor, watching the light crawl across the wooden planks, when a breeze outside shifted the curtain and cast a long shadow across the room.

  His breath caught.

  It moved.

  Not just from the wind.

  It twitched, like it had noticed him.

  And something deep in Samuel’s chest responded—not with fear, but with a kind of recognition.

  You’re mine, he thought.

  The shadow trembled.

  > [Skill Detected: Umbra Flicker (Lv. 1)]

  [Mana Cost: 5 MP]

  [Mana Pool: 21/21]

  It wasn’t much. Barely anything.

  But enough to try.

  Samuel raised his fingers—not intentionally, not with control, but with will. The way a child might reach for a star they didn’t understand.

  The shadow curled toward him like smoke on the wind.

  His heart thudded.

  More, he thought.

  The room darkened slightly.

  Not visually—but viscerally. Like the air had thickened.

  His fingers twitched again, and the shadow snapped sharply to the left—then back.

  Like a tail.

  Samuel grinned—his first real, genuine smile since waking in this world.

  He had power.

  Barely. Weak. Wild.

  But it was his.

  He tried again.

  Another flick. Another twitch of will.

  The shadow jumped.

  > [Mana: 16/21]

  Again.

  Harder.

  The shadow split, lashing once across the floorboards.

  > [Mana: 11/21]

  Samuel’s breath hitched. His arms felt… heavier.

  Like someone had tied invisible weights to his bones.

  He ignored it.

  Just one more.

  He focused, heart racing, and tried to make the shadow move around something—curve, twist, take shape.

  It almost did.

  Then the system buzzed.

  > [Mana: 6/21]

  [Warning: Mana depletion approaching exhaustion threshold.]

  He blinked.

  And the world tilted.

  It wasn’t pain, exactly.

  It was drain. Like someone had pulled the warmth out of his limbs and replaced it with fog. His head spun. His chest tightened. He fell back against the floor with a soft thud, arms limp at his sides.

  His breath came in shallow hiccups.

  Too much.

  Too fast.

  He hadn’t screamed. Hadn’t cried.

  But Eliara came anyway.

  She always did.

  She scooped him up gently, holding him against her chest with that motherly sixth sense that said something’s wrong even when nothing was said.

  “Oh—what did you do, little stormcloud?” she whispered, brushing the sweat from his forehead.

  Samuel didn’t answer.

  Couldn’t.

  But he clung to her sleeve with fingers that trembled from effort.

  > [Codex Status: Mana Depleted — 6/21]

  [Skill usage logged. Growth potential: Confirmed.]

  [Warning: User is below optimal age for active spellcasting. Risk of burnout increases.]

  That night, after she’d rocked him to sleep, Eliara tucked him into the cradle and stared at him longer than usual.

  Not worried.

  Not angry.

  Just thoughtful.

  Like she saw something, but didn’t know what it meant yet.

  Samuel didn’t dream of shadows that night.

  He dreamed of silence.

  The kind that follows a choice.

  The kind that asks, quietly:

  “How far are you willing to go?”

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  And somewhere deep beneath it all, the Codex flickered once more.

  > [Shadow Magic Proficiency: 3%]

  [Skill: Umbra Flicker — leveled up to Lv. 2]

  [Effect: Shadow manipulation slightly extends range (now 2.5m)]

  > [Emotional Note: Ambition — Logged]

  The next morning, his body still ached.

  Not in the way a fever did. Not the soul-deep tremble of a loop either.

  This was different.

  This was the cost.

  Mana fatigue, the Codex had called it. It made his limbs feel like sandbags and his head swim whenever he sat up too fast. And yet—beneath all that exhaustion—Samuel felt something else, too.

  Satisfaction.

  He’d done it. He’d moved magic. Shadow magic. On his own.

  And no one knew.

  Which, he realized, might be the most important part of all.

  He remembered how Eliara had looked at the hidden staff. How Dorian’s fingers always hovered near a blade. They weren’t just hiding their past—they were hiding it from him.

  And that guard… the way he looked at Samuel. Like he expected something.

  So now, Samuel understood.

  His parents weren’t just keeping secrets for his safety.

  They were keeping him secret.

  And that meant he had to protect them, too.

  Even from his own magic.

  That day, he didn’t test anything.

  Not when Eliara laid him down on the blanket by the hearth.

  Not when Dorian ruffled his hair on his way out the door.

  He stared at the shadows, yes. Thought about them. Felt them.

  But he didn’t move them.

  Not with people around.

  > [User Inactive. Shadow Skill Sync: Passive Scan Only]

  [Mana: 8/21 — Slow Regeneration In Progress]

  The Codex seemed content to wait. Like it understood, somehow, that silence was part of the plan now.

  That was the thing about systems. They followed logic.

  Samuel didn’t.

  He followed gut.

  And his gut told him to wait. To learn.

  To hide.

  By the third day, he had energy again. His strength returned gradually—just enough to prop himself up when no one was looking. Just enough to clench his tiny fingers and feel the shadows nearby shift, even slightly.

  That’s when he got bold.

  He waited for a moment when Eliara stepped outside to gather herbs. Alone in the quiet room, a single ribbon of shadow pooled beneath the rocking chair near the window.

  He focused on it.

  Just lightly.

  The shadow tugged.

  Only for a second.

  But it worked.

  > [Umbra Flicker: Stable Control Confirmed at 2.5m Range]

  [Mana: 19/21]

  Then he heard footsteps.

  He let go instantly—eyes wide, body slack like nothing had happened.

  Eliara reentered the room, carrying a small basket. She paused at the door.

  Looked at the chair.

  Frowned.

  Then smiled and said nothing.

  But Samuel saw the way her eyes lingered on the floor. The shadows.

  And how her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  That night, she kissed him gently on the head and whispered something into the dark.

  “You’re growing faster than I expected,” she murmured. “A little too fast, maybe.”

  Then she paused.

  And Samuel—barely breathing—waited for what came next.

  “I don’t know what the world will do to you if it finds out what you are,” she whispered. “But I’ll keep it away for as long as I can.”

  She kissed his forehead again.

  “And if it comes anyway… I hope you’re stronger than we were.”

  ---

  Samuel didn’t sleep right away.

  Not because he was afraid.

  But because for the first time, he realized something simple and terrifying:

  They were preparing to lose him.

  Not by choice. Not now. But someday.

  And the only thing standing between someday and never—

  —was him.

  > [Codex Sync: 9%]

  [Passive Trait Acquired: Quiet Focus (Lv. 1)]

  Grants slight mana cost reduction and focus control while in silence.

  He told himself it would just be one more try.

  Just a test. A stretch. Nothing big.

  He had waited two more days—rested, ate, listened. His mana pool had ticked back up. His limbs no longer trembled. The Codex whispered readiness.

  So, when Eliara stepped outside that morning to hang laundry, and Dorian was still out mending the fence, Samuel made his move.

  He lay on the floor near the hearth, blanket tucked beneath him, light pouring in through the shutters. Shadows danced softly across the room.

  He picked one. Narrow. Weak. A ribbon from the table’s edge.

  Flicker, he thought.

  It moved.

  Good. Easy.

  He pulled again—twisting it now, stretching the reach.

  > [Mana: 20/21]

  His breath stayed steady. His heart calm. So far, so good.

  He pushed harder. Tried to pull two shadows this time—one from the chair, one from the wooden post.

  Both reacted.

  Sluggish. Wobbling.

  But they moved.

  > [Mana: 15/21]

  The thrill hit him like a jolt. He was learning. Growing. He could control this.

  So he went further.

  Deeper.

  He wanted to weave them.

  To braid the two lines of shadow together. Bend them like rope. Make them obey.

  It didn’t work.

  They resisted.

  Snapped against each other.

  Pain stabbed through his head like ice behind his eyes.

  He gasped.

  The shadows collapsed inward—spiking like shards of glass before dissolving into nothing.

  > [Warning: Mana Strain Detected]

  [Mana: 8/21]

  [Overexertion Threshold Approaching]

  Samuel should have stopped.

  But stopping meant admitting he couldn’t.

  And he couldn’t afford to be weak.

  Not in a world where wolves had coals for eyes and guards wore masks made of memory.

  He tried again—just a flicker. A single twist. He just needed to regain control.

  > [Mana: 3/21]

  His vision blurred.

  The room tilted sideways.

  His body felt wrong, like it didn’t belong to him anymore.

  He collapsed—arms limp, head rolling to the side, chest rising in short, panicked gasps.

  He couldn’t move.

  Couldn’t think.

  He was drowning in his own skin.

  He didn’t remember the door opening.

  Didn’t hear the footsteps.

  Only the cry—sharp, broken.

  “Samuel?”

  Eliara.

  She was beside him in a second, lifting him, cradling his small, twitching frame in shaking arms.

  “Oh stars, no, no—please.”

  Dorian’s boots hit the threshold hard. He dropped the bag in his hands and crossed the room in three strides.

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know! He was fine—I was just outside—he’s burning up!”

  Samuel tried to blink. Speak. Anything.

  But the darkness had him.

  And it was warm.

  He woke to soft cloth pressed against his forehead. The scent of crushed herbs. The warmth of a hand on his chest.

  Eliara’s voice. Cracked and wet.

  “Please don’t leave me.”

  Dorian’s voice, low and gritted.

  “He’s still breathing. He’ll pull through.”

  “He’s just a baby.”

  “He’s more than that.”

  A pause.

  “We both know it.”

  Samuel opened his eyes.

  Weak. Empty. Like his soul had been wrung out like a cloth.

  But the first thing he saw—was her.

  Eliara, eyes wide with tears, smoothing back his hair.

  She smiled, but it was shaky. "There you are..."

  He wanted to apologize.

  To tell her it was his fault.

  That he wasn’t just a baby, and this wasn’t just some random illness.

  But all he could do… was reach up, just barely, and touch her hand.

  Her tears fell faster.

  And she held him closer than she ever had before.

  > [Overexertion Logged]

  [Codex Note: User has reached critical mana fatigue.]

  [Skill Usage Locked for 3 Days]

  [Soul Integrity: 95% — Minor damage recorded]

  > [Warning: You are not ready.]

  That night, when they thought he was asleep, Eliara didn’t sing.

  She just sat in the dark, holding him. Staring into the fire.

  And whispered,

  “Whatever you are… please stay.”

  His body couldn’t move.

  The Codex had locked him out. His mana pool was shot, his soul strained, and even the system had agreed: “You are not ready.”

  So for once, Samuel stopped fighting.

  He let himself rest.

  Let himself feel.

  Eliara had taken to carrying him more—keeping him close even when he wasn’t crying, even when he didn’t fuss. She held him because she needed to.

  And maybe… so did he.

  That morning, she brought him out into the garden behind the house. The air was warm. The breeze cool. The herbs in the planter boxes were green and thick with dew, and the world shimmered with quiet life.

  Eliara sat on a low bench and held Samuel in her lap, his head resting gently against her arm, his blanket tucked beneath his chin.

  He watched.

  Not with calculation. Not with purpose.

  Just… watched.

  Birds trilled softly from the trees.

  The wind bent the grass in slow waves, rising and falling like breath.

  Sunlight filtered through the branches, painting golden patches across Eliara’s face. Her violet eyes glowed in the light. Her lips moved silently—humming again, maybe, or praying under her breath.

  And for a moment, Samuel forgot what he was.

  Forgot the Codex.

  Forgot Earth.

  Forgot pain.

  All he saw was her.

  The light.

  The world.

  And it was beautiful.

  Then, gently:

  > [SYSTEM SYNC REACHED: 10%]

  [NEW FEATURE UNLOCKED: PASSIVE TRAITS]

  A quiet pulse rippled through his awareness—not harsh, not digital, but like a soft bell ringing from somewhere far beneath the skin.

  A new menu appeared, elegant and simple:

  [PASSIVE TRAITS MENU]

  ? Quiet Focus (Lv. 1) – Slight mana reduction during stillness.

  ? Echo Sensitivity (Lv. 1) – Increased awareness of emotional shifts nearby.

  ? Resilient Vessel (Lv. 1) – Slightly increased mana recovery rate after fatigue.

  ? Tethered Heart (Locked) – ???

  ? Observer’s Thread (Locked) – ???

  Then below it:

  > [Next Upgrade Unlocks at Sync Level: 15%]

  [Feature Preview: EMOTIONAL RESONANCE TRACKING]

  Track connections. Weigh impact. Predict loss.]

  Samuel blinked.

  The menu faded. The light remained.

  And suddenly he understood something very simple, very human:

  The system wasn’t just reacting to his actions.

  It was responding to his heart.

  He looked up at Eliara again.

  She was watching the trees now, her lips parted slightly, as if savoring the moment.

  Maybe she knew. Maybe she didn’t.

  But Samuel felt the pull—like a thread linking them.

  And somewhere deep in the Codex, it logged it.

  > [Passive Trait Potential: Tethered Heart — “Unlocked through genuine emotional imprint.]

  [Connection noted: MOTHER.]

  [Progress: 37%]

  Samuel breathed in the scent of wild herbs, sunlight, and warm skin.

  He wasn’t strong yet.

  Wasn’t ready.

  But he was alive.

  And for now, in her arms, under this sky—

  That was enough.