The road stretched before them like a ribbon of dust and stone, winding through forests and fields as the Veldryn manor faded into the distance behind them. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across their path, and the only sounds were the crunch of their boots on the dirt and the occasional call of birds overhead.
They had been walking for hours in comfortable silence, but Arin could feel Lia's eyes on him. She had been watching him more closely since they left—stealing glances when she thought he wasn't looking, her expression unreadable.
Finally, she spoke.
"Arin. Are you okay?"
The question was simple, but the weight behind it was immense.
Arin stopped walking. His hands trembled slightly at his sides, and he stared at the ground as if it held answers he couldn't find.
Lia knew. She knew what he had suffered. In this world, boys who experienced such things—violence, danger, the constant threat of death—often didn't survive. Not because their bodies couldn't endure, but because their minds couldn't. The statistics were grim. The stories were worse.
Boys who were exposed to trauma... they broke. They faded. Some simply stopped living, their spirits crushed beneath the weight of a world that was never meant to touch them.
And Arin had been through so much.
*Again. And again. And again.*
He looked up at her, and Lia felt her heart clench.
His eyes—those impossibly beautiful eyes—were filled with a vulnerability that made her want to wrap her arms around him and never let go. They were the eyes of a child who had seen too much, who had been forced to grow up too fast in a world that wanted to protect him but had failed.
"I don't know," Arin whispered, his voice cracking. "I came so close to death. If that woman—if Judith hadn't been properly healed, I don't know what would have happened to me. To us."
His voice broke on the last word, and then the tears came.
They spilled down his cheeks like rain, and he made no effort to stop them. His small body shook with sobs, and for a moment, he was simply a frightened nine-year-old boy, overwhelmed by a world that was too big, too cruel, too much.
And in many ways, he was.
Whatever remained of Satoshi's former life had become tangled with Arin's young mind. Memories. Instincts. Fragments of experience. But they weren't enough to turn him into an adult. Arin still thought like a child in so many ways. He still became frightened. He still cried. He still needed reassurance.
His mind hadn't magically matured just because another life existed somewhere inside him.
Perhaps that was why the past few days had affected him so deeply.
In this world, boys were rare. Their numbers had dwindled across generations until the traits that allowed them to survive had become deeply embedded in human civilization. Evolution had shaped this world in ways Arin still struggled to understand.
Millions of years of natural selection had produced males who were physically weaker, mentally more fragile, more prone to emotional distress. It was a survival mechanism—the stronger, more capable females protected the vulnerable males, ensuring the continuation of the species.
The genes that produced strong, resilient men had been bred out over countless generations. In their place, evolution had favored men who were gentle, submissive, and emotionally sensitive—qualities that made them easier to protect and control.
In this world, it was considered cruel—barbaric, even—to expose men, especially boys, to traumatic experiences. Their minds simply couldn't handle it. They weren't built for violence, for danger, for the brutal realities of survival.
Boys were protected. Sheltered. Kept away from violence whenever possible.
A boy being exposed to extreme danger wasn't simply considered unfortunate.
It was considered cruel.
Lia knew that better than anyone. She had grown up in a world where women were expected to fight while boys were expected to be protected. Yet Arin had been forced into situations no child should have experienced.
Again. And again. And again.
The difference was that somewhere inside him existed fragments of Satoshi's previous life. Enough experience to endure pressure that Arin's young body and mind otherwise should never have faced. But not enough to make him immune to it.
He was still a child.
Lia knelt in front of him, bringing herself to his level. Her hand reached out, hesitating for just a moment before she gently cupped his cheek.
"Hey," she said softly, her voice rough with emotion. "Look at me."
Arin's tear-streaked face lifted, and Lia felt something crack inside her chest.
"You're safe now," she said. "We're away from the Veldryn family. We're together. And I promise you—I will never let anyone hurt you like that again."
Her thumb brushed away a tear, and Arin leaned into her touch, his small body still trembling.
"I was so scared," he admitted. "When Helena looked at me... I felt like prey. Like she could see right through me and was just waiting to pounce."
"She won't touch you," Lia said firmly. "I won't allow it."
Arin sniffled, managing a weak smile. "You can't fight an entire family, Lia."
"Watch me."
The words were spoken with such absolute conviction that Arin almost believed her.
---
They walked until dusk began to paint the sky in shades of orange and purple, then made camp near a small stream. Lia busied herself with building a fire while Arin sat on a fallen log, staring into the water.
The conversation from earlier still hung between them, heavy and unresolved. But as the fire crackled to life and warmth began to seep into the evening air, something shifted.
Arin spoke first.
"Lia... I need to learn magic."
She looked up from the fire, surprised. "What?"
"Attack magic. Defense magic. I need to learn how to protect myself." His hands clenched into fists on his knees. "I'm tired of being helpless. I'm tired of being used. When Rowena hit me, when Agnes treated me like a piece of meat—I couldn't do anything. I just had to take it."
Lia was quiet for a moment, then nodded slowly. "That's... not a bad idea. But Arin, you're a healer. Your magic—"
"I know." He met her eyes. "My healing is instinct. I don't understand how it works. I just... feel it. Mana flows through my body, and when I heal someone, it depletes. It's like breathing—I don't think about it, I just do it."
He looked down at his hands. "But I don't know anything about real magic. Attack spells, elemental manipulation—I know it exists, but I don't know how to use it. I've never been taught."
Lia frowned. "I don't know much either. I'm a warrior, not a mage. I can use some fire magic, but it's... basic. Instinctive. I just know that when I cast a spell, fire comes. I couldn't explain the theory behind it."
"That's exactly the problem." Arin sighed. "We're both operating on instinct. We don't understand the fundamentals."
He reached into his pack and pulled out a worn book—one of the few he had acquired during their travels. It was a basic primer on magic, something he had picked up in a small town they had passed through.
"I've been reading this," he said. "It says there are six elemental affinities: Fire, Water, Wind, Earth, Lightning, and Ice. Every person has a natural affinity for one or more of these. But I..."
He trailed off, his expression troubled.
"What is it?" Lia asked.
"I tried to cast elemental magic earlier today. I could only manage the barest spark of Earth, and even that was pathetically weak." He stared at his palms. "The book says most people have at least two affinities. Some have three. But me? I could barely muster one, and it's so faint it's almost useless."
Lia's brow furrowed. "That's... not unusual for boys. Most have weak affinities—if they have any at all. The rare ones who show talent are... exceptions."
Arin stared at his hands, silent for a long moment.
Exceptions.
He closed the book and set it aside. "I need to study. Properly. With teachers who understand magic. I need to learn how to control this - before it controls me"
Lia leaned back, processing his words. "Where would you even go to learn something like that?"
Arin was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "An academy."
Lia raised an eyebrow. "An academy?"
"One of the magic universities. I've heard travelers talk about them." He picked up the book again, flipping through pages. "There are five major academies in the world. Four of them are ancient, established centuries ago. The fifth one—Iverra Magic Academy—was founded only a hundred years ago, after the Great War."
He paused, reading from the book. "Iverra was named after a legendary warrior who fought in the war. It's considered one of the best academies in the world, despite being so new. But it's far from here."
"And the others?"
"The nearest one is Winston Magic Academy." Arin traced a finger over a crude map in the book. "It's in the central continent—where we are now. It's one of the older academies, but it recently opened its doors to common citizens."
Lia frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Until about five years ago, Winston only accepted noble girls, with a handful of commoners admitted through the entrance exam. But they changed their policy—now anyone can apply, boys and girls alike. All they have to do is pass the entrance exam."
Arin's eyes gleamed with something that looked almost like hope. "If I could get in... if I could learn there... I might finally understand what I am. What I can do."
Lia studied him for a long moment. "You're serious about this."
"I am."
She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Arin, I'm too old to join an academy. I don't have the skills they'd be looking for. And I doubt they'd let a random adventurer tag along with a student."
"I know." Arin smiled slightly. "But you could stay nearby. We could find a place for you in the city. I wouldn't be alone."
Lia's expression softened. "You really want this, don't you?"
"More than anything."
She was quiet for a moment, then nodded. "Then we'll go to Winston. But first..." She reached out and took his hand, her fingers warm and strong around his. "You need to promise me something."
Arin's face flushed at the contact, but he didn't pull away. "What?"
"Promise me you'll be careful. Promise me you won't push yourself too hard. Promise me..." She hesitated, then squeezed his hand. "Promise me you'll let me protect you. As long as I can."
Arin's blush deepened, but he nodded. "I promise."
They sat like that for a moment, hands intertwined, the fire crackling beside them. Then Lia seemed to realize what she was doing—she looked down at their joined hands, and her face went red.
She started holding Arin tighter.
"I—" She pulled her hand away quickly, flustered. "I didn't mean to—that was—"
Arin blinked at her, confused. "Lia?"
"Nothing!" She stood abruptly, turning away. "I just—I need to check the perimeter. Make sure we're safe. You should rest."
She disappeared into the darkness before Arin could respond.
Arin stared after her, his heart beating faster than he understood. His hand still tingled where she had held it, and his face was warm despite the cool evening air.
*What was that about?*
He shook his head, deciding not to dwell on it. Instead, he turned back to the fire and began to practice.
---
Meanwhile, Lia stood in the darkness beyond the camp, her back pressed against a tree, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps.
Her heart was racing. Her hands were trembling. And between her legs, a heat had gathered that she couldn't explain, couldn't control, couldn't understand.
*No,* she told herself fiercely. *No. He saved my life. He's a child. He's—*
But the feeling wouldn't go away.
It crept through her like smoke, curling around her thoughts, whispering things she didn't want to hear. She remembered the way his hand had felt in hers—so small, so soft, so warm. She remembered the way his eyes had looked up at her, filled with trust and vulnerability.
She remembered the way his disguise had broken, revealing the boy beneath.
*Mine,* a voice whispered in the back of her mind. *He's mine. I found him. I protected him. He belongs to me.*
Lia squeezed her eyes shut, forcing the thoughts down.
*No. That's not—I'm not—*
But the feeling remained, coiled in her chest like a serpent waiting to strike.
She had heard stories about this—about women who became obsessed with the men they protected, who developed feelings that went beyond duty, beyond friendship, beyond anything rational. In a world where men were rare and precious, such obsessions were not unheard of.
But Lia had never thought she would become one of them.
*He's nine years old,* she reminded herself. *He's a child. He's—*
*He's beautiful,* the voice whispered. *And he's yours.*
She slammed her fist against the tree, the pain sharp and grounding.
*No.*
She would not become that. She would not let this feeling consume her. Arin was her charge, her responsibility, her friend. Nothing more.
*Nothing more.*
She repeated the words like a prayer, hoping that eventually, she would believe them.
But as she returned to the camp and saw Arin practicing his mana pulse, saw the way his hair caught the firelight, saw the determination in his eyes—she felt the feeling stir again.
And she knew, with a sinking heart, that this was only the beginning.
---
Over the next few days, Arin practiced relentlessly.
Every spare moment was spent experimenting with magic—trying to summon elements, trying to shape mana, trying to understand the strange power that lived inside him.
Lia watched from a distance, her expression a mixture of concern and fascination. She didn't interfere, didn't try to stop him. She understood that this was something he needed to do.
He tried to summon earth magic, but it was too weak—too weak to be useful in any real combat situation. Still, for a boy, it was mid-range. Most boys could barely manage a spark. Arin could at least move small stones, could make the ground tremble slightly beneath his feet.
But what was truly absurd was his mana manipulation.
It was a rare technique—something that not many people could achieve, even among girls. Mana manipulation required precise control, a deep understanding of one's own energy, an ability to shape raw power without the crutch of elemental affinity.
And Arin could do it instinctively.
*Is it because of my past life?* he wondered. *Satoshi's subconscious affecting Arin's abilities?*
He didn't know. But he was grateful for it.
It was the mana pulse that truly surprised him.
It wasn't an attack spell—at least, it wasn't supposed to be. The mana pulse was a basic manipulation technique, a way to release energy outward in a burst. It was meant for defense, for creating space, for disorienting enemies.
It wasn't associated with any elemental magic.
But as Arin practiced, he found that his mana pulse was different.
It was sharper.
More lethal.
The energy he released wasn't just a burst—it was a wave of cutting force, capable of slicing through wood and stone. Each day, it grew stronger, more refined, more dangerous.
"I don't understand," he said one evening, staring at the deep gouges his pulse had carved into a nearby tree. "This isn't supposed to be an attack spell."
Lia approached, examining the damage. "Maybe it's your affinity," she suggested. "If you can use all six elements—"
"I can't." Arin shook his head. "My elemental magic is pathetic. Barely a spark of Earth, and nothing else. But this..." He looked at his hands. "This is different."
Arin frowned. "But it's not elemental. There's no fire, no water, no anything. It's just... force."
"Maybe that's its own element," Lia said. "Pure mana. Raw energy."
Arin considered this. It made sense, in a way. His healing was pure mana manipulation—converting his energy into something that could repair and restore. Why couldn't his offense be the same? Pure mana, shaped into something destructive?
He looked at his hands again, feeling the power thrumming beneath his skin.
"I need to learn more," he said quietly. "I need to understand this."
Lia nodded. "Then we'll find Winston Academy. And you'll learn everything you need to know."
---
A week later, they arrived at a small town called Draycott.
It was a modest settlement—a few dozen buildings clustered around a central square, with a market that bustled with activity. Farmers sold produce, merchants hawked their wares, and children ran through the streets, laughing and playing.
Arin and Lia made their way to the market square, looking for supplies. But something caught Arin's eye.
A poster.
It was pinned to a notice board near the town center, its bold lettering impossible to miss.
**WINSTON ACADEMY OF MAGIC**
*Admissions Open*
*Now accepting applications from all citizens—noble and common, male and female*
*Entrance examination to be held in the capital city of Aldenmoor*
*Successful candidates will receive full tuition, room, and board*
Arin stared at the poster, his heart pounding.
"Lia," he breathed. "Look at this."
She came to stand beside him, reading the words. Her expression was unreadable. "So it's real. They're actually accepting commoners."
"And boys," Arin added. "They're accepting boys."
He turned to her, his eyes bright with excitement. "This is it. This is my chance."
Lia looked at him—really looked at him. She saw the hope in his eyes, the determination in his stance. She saw the boy who had cried in her arms, who had been terrified and helpless, and she saw something else too.
She saw someone who refused to give up.
Someone who wanted to be stronger.
Someone who wanted to protect himself.
But she also felt something else—something dark and possessive that curled in her chest and whispered cruel truths.
*If he goes there, he'll meet other people. Other women. He'll grow stronger, more confident, more independent. He won't need you anymore.*
*He'll leave you behind.*
She dismissed the thought, forcing a smile onto her face. But the feeling kept coming back, like a moth drawn to fire, no matter how hard she tried to push it away.
*Stop it,* she told herself. *This is what he wants. This is what he needs. Be happy for him.*
But she couldn't.
She couldn't be happy.
She couldn't be anything but terrified of losing him.
"Then we go to Aldenmoor," she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. "And you take that exam."
Arin's smile was like the sun breaking through clouds.
"Thank you," he said. "For believing in me."
Lia reached out, hesitating for just a moment before ruffling his hair. "Always."
But as they walked away from the poster, as they continued their journey toward the capital, Lia couldn't shake the feeling that she was walking toward something she couldn't control.
Something that would change everything.
And deep in her heart, in the darkest corner where she kept her most secret desires, she knew that she would do anything—anything—to keep Arin by her side.
*Anything.*