I was three years old.
That's what everyone said.
I didn't think much about the number, but I could tell my body wasn't the same anymore. I could run without falling as much, jump higher, and endure a little longer when my legs started to ache.
There were two months left before the exam.
I knew very well what the exam was about.
Not only because I had seen Selene's, but because I understood what it meant. It was the moment when the world decided how valuable you were. When people looked at you carefully and drew conclusions without asking you anything.
I remembered Selene's exam clearly.
The lights.
The people watching.
The expectant gazes.
I remembered how everyone smiled when she raised her hands and something bright appeared between them.
That's why I pushed myself harder.
In my past life, I never really pushed myself like this. I always left things for later, always found an excuse not to try harder. But this time was different.
I didn't want to be the same again.
I didn't want to reach that day without having given it my all.
Every morning I trained with Liora in the courtyard. She didn't shout or get angry. She told me what to do in a calm voice.
"One… two…" she counted while I jumped.
Sometimes I fell. Sometimes I scraped my knees. They stung a little, but I didn't say anything. I got up and kept going.
I wanted to do it right.
When we finished, I would sit on the ground, breathing hard, my hands resting on my legs. And almost always, I said the same thing:
"Are we training mana today?"
The first time I asked, Liora froze.
She didn't say no.
She didn't say yes.
She just looked at me.
Her eyes weren't angry.
They were… sad.
"Later, sweetheart," she said after a moment. "You've already done a lot today."
I nodded.
The next day, I asked again.
"Can I try making the sphere… like Selene?"
Liora smiled, but it was a strange smile. Not like before.
"Later," she said. "There's still time."
I started to notice it.
Every time I said the word mana, something changed. Voices lowered. Gazes shifted away. The air felt heavier.
With Mom, it was worse.
When I talked about the exam in front of her, she wouldn't look me in the eyes. She adjusted my clothes, cleaned my hands, told me to eat well.
"Mom," I asked her once, "am I going to make a sphere too?"
She went silent.
Then she stood up.
"Go play for a while," she said. "Don't get tired."
I didn't understand.
With time, I began to notice that something had changed.
Not suddenly.
Not overnight.
Mom didn't look me in the eyes as much anymore.
Sometimes she left before I finished talking.
Other times she smiled, but her gaze was somewhere else.
Liora kept training me like always, but whenever mana came up…
her eyes darkened, as if she had remembered something painful.
Dad was different too.
He was still with me, still teaching me,
but he spoke less than before.
I didn't know what I had done wrong.
No one scolded me.
No one told me to stop.
But I understood that whenever I talked about training mana,
something broke a little inside them.
And without anyone asking me to…
I started talking about it less.
---
One afternoon, while thinking about the exam and everything no one told me, I went to look for Selene.
I found her in the back courtyard, focused on something important. Her brow was furrowed and her tongue stuck out slightly as she tried to make a wooden spinning top dance on the ground.
"Look," she said without looking at me. "If you don't throw it right, it falls."
The top spun for barely a second… then toppled over.
"Again," she muttered.
I sat beside her and watched her try again. This time it spun a little longer before falling.
"Selene," I asked, "how did you make the sphere?"
She lifted her head immediately.
"The mana one?"
I nodded.
"It's easy," she answered without thinking. "You just let it come out."
I frowned slightly.
"Let it come out… from where?"
She looked at me like the question was strange.
"From here," she said, touching her chest. "Everyone has something here inside."
She paused for a few seconds, trying to find the words.
"It's like when your hand falls asleep," she continued. "It doesn't hurt, but it feels weird."
She moved her fingers.
"Or like when something runs quickly through your body… like a tingle."
I leaned closer.
"And the sphere?"
"That comes after," she said. "First you have to feel it move."
She thought for a moment.
"Like when you run and something pushes you from inside so you don't stop."
She set the spinning top aside and stood up. She extended her hands effortlessly.
"Look."
She breathed normally.
The sphere appeared almost immediately between her hands. Small. Stable. As if it had always been there.
Selene didn't even look excited.
"See?" she said. "It comes out on its own."
"And what do you do to make it appear?" I asked.
"Don't squeeze it," she replied. "If you force it, it hides."
She closed her eyes.
"You breathe… think about that thing moving… and just let it pass."
She opened her hands again.
"Try."
I breathed.
I copied her posture.
I tried to think about that tingle.
About that sensation of something moving.
I opened my hands.
I waited.
Nothing happened.
"Again," Selene said. "Sometimes it takes a bit."
I tried again.
Nothing.
A third time.
Nothing.
Selene frowned, genuinely confused.
"That's weird…" she murmured. "It always works for me."
I smiled quickly.
"It's probably because I haven't practiced much," I said. "It'll work later."
"Yeah," she nodded. "Later."
She went back to her spinning top.
"Look," she said. "Now it's really going to spin."
The top spun a little longer than before.
I stayed there watching it.
And even though I didn't understand what had happened…
I decided not to try again that day.
---
The next day, I went back to the courtyard.
I trained like always, but this time Liora wasn't there.
It was Dad.
Manuel stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching. He didn't shout or correct much. He just watched and spoke when necessary.
"Run," he said.
I ran.
There was a small obstacle course: low logs, ropes, a wall I could barely climb. I fell once. Scraped my arm. Got up without saying anything and kept going.
"Again."
I did it again.
When I finished, I bent forward, breathing hard. My chest rose and fell quickly, but I felt good. Tired… but good.
Dad nodded slightly.
"Better."
I sat on the ground, stretching my legs. I wiped the sweat from my forehead with my sleeve. I hesitated before speaking.
"Dad…"
"Yes?"
"Can you teach me how to make the mana sphere?"
Dad didn't answer right away.
He didn't change his posture.
He didn't shake his head.
He just stood there, as if thinking.
"Not today," he said finally. "You just finished the obstacle course. You've done enough for today."
"Okay," I replied.
Outwardly, I accepted the answer without trouble.
But inside…
I felt a small, quiet sadness.
I really wanted to learn.
It wasn't the first time I asked.
And it wasn't the first time I heard not now, later, there's still time.
Each answer didn't hurt much by itself…
but they piled up.
Dad turned to leave.
"Get some rest," he said. "We'll continue tomorrow."
I followed him in silence.
And even though I couldn't explain exactly what it was…
I felt that every time I talked about mana, something inside me dimmed a little.
---
There were three days left before the exam.
That day, I trained with Mom.
The routine was the same. Running, jumping, dodging, starting over. Mom walked alongside the courtyard, watching me carefully.
I ran one lap.
Then another.
Halfway through the third, I stopped.
"Is something wrong, son?" she asked.
"Yes."
"What is it?"
I took a deep breath.
"Mom… why don't you want to teach me how to make the sphere?"
She didn't answer.
"I remember," I continued. "When Selene trained, everyone helped her. They explained things. They encouraged her."
I lowered my gaze.
"With me, it's always later… or not today… or there's still time."
I looked at her again.
"Why?"
Mom opened her mouth.
No sound came out.
"Mom… why don't you want to teach me?"
Then she hugged me.
Tight.
So tight that I froze, surprised.
I felt her breathing tremble.
And then she started to cry.
"I'm sorry…" she said. "I'm sorry, Jhosep… forgive me, my child…"
I stood still.
Sorry for what?
She hadn't done anything wrong to me.
"Mom… are you okay?"
She didn't answer.
Dad and Liora approached, trying to separate her gently.
"Calm down, Johana…"
"I'm sorry…" she sobbed. "I'm sorry…"
I looked at all of them.
I didn't understand what was happening.
I didn't understand why Mom was crying.
I didn't understand why she was apologizing to me.
I only knew one thing:
I had asked a simple question.
And that question had touched something I couldn't see…
but they could.
---
That night, I went to bed early.
Or at least, that's what they thought.
I lay in bed, covered up to my chest, staring at the dark ceiling. I listened to the silence of the house, distant footsteps, a door closing carefully somewhere.
But I couldn't sleep.
I closed my eyes… then opened them again.
I thought about Mom.
About how she had cried.
I didn't understand it.
Johana had never done anything bad to me.
She had never hit me.
She had never shouted at me.
She had never raised her voice at me.
She always took care of me.
She was always there.
So…
why was she apologizing?
Every time I asked about practicing mana, something changed.
Not just with Mom.
With Liora too.
With Dad too.
Always those looks.
Sad.
Heavy.
Like they were seeing something I couldn't.
It wasn't anger.
It wasn't annoyance.
It was something else.
Something deeper.
Something that seemed to hurt them.
I turned over in bed, hugging the pillow.
I didn't understand. I really didn't.
But there was one thought that wouldn't go away.
It was as if…
as if they felt guilty about something.
As if something had happened before.
Something I couldn't remember.
Something that haunted them.
And every time I talked about mana…
that something came back.
Like it hurt them from the inside.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to sleep.
I didn't know what made them suffer like that.
I didn't know why they looked at me that way.
I only knew it wasn't my fault.
And yet…
it made me feel strange.
As if, without meaning to,
I was touching a wound that never healed.
---
Time passed.
And before I realized it, the day of the exam arrived.
This time, there weren't many people.
There were no loud murmurs or expectant stares everywhere.
The atmosphere was different.
More muted.
More silent.
Nothing resembled Selene's exam.
As I moved forward, I felt that this day would be different.
Not better. Not worse.
Just different.
And still…
it was my turn.