In the snow-covered forest, winter carved its path with a frigid wind. The landscape held a refined beauty despite the cold—trees draped in frost, the ground a canvas of untouched white.
High on a crooked pine, veiled in the hush of winter's breath, a snowy owl perched, its feathers blending seamlessly with the world around it. It blinked slowly, golden eyes sweeping across the silence. A soft "hoo-hoo… hoo-hoo…" pulsed from its throat as it noticed the human stirring below. With a silent beat of its wings, it descended and landed on his shoulder.
"Did you see anything up there, Dreiden?"
Beneath a towering tree heavy with snow, a young man stood cloaked in gray, its hood lined with white fur. Snowflakes drifted around him, clinging to his cloak and the strands of hair peeking from beneath the hood. He crouched low, his left leg bent forward, a bow gripped in his left hand, and an arrow nocked and drawn tight by his right. Ready to strike.
Hhh… Hhh… Huff… Huff…
His breath came in short bursts, misting the air and clouding his vision for a heartbeat as he aimed where Dreiden gestured with its wing. Ahead, about sixteen rabbit-hops away, a deer drank from a frozen stream.
"…The wind isn't too bad. Mhm. Fly higher, Dreiden—circle it."
The arrow aligned with the deer's head. The only obstacle was the drifting snow, rising and falling like a living veil, serving as both cover and camouflage.
"The best way to aim now would be—"
He raised the bow, tilting it slightly upward, eyes locked on the target.
Whoosh!
The arrow leapt from the bow in a sharp arc, soaring high, curving toward the owl's signal before plunging downward—straight into the deer's skull. Blood spilled across the snow.
*****
"Humans acquire their power through three primary paths: the Mental, the Soul, and the Physique. Collectively, this is often referred to as MSP. All kinds of abilities are born from these paths—unique abilities, shared ones, and even knowledge itself flows through them…"
As the grizzled Larc Cage lectured, his gaze occasionally drifted toward the corner seat at the back of the classroom.
The other students listened attentively, but that seat remained empty.
Larc shook his head almost imperceptibly, sighing inwardly. So what if you're talented? What can you truly achieve if arrogance clouds your judgment? hmph
He recalled the words of the matron—the head nun—spoken to him before her retirement. Looking again at the empty seat, he couldn't help but wonder what had compelled her to make such a statement.
*****
"Good afternoon, Sister Augustus."
"Eek! Yurshel!!" Startled by his sudden appearance, Sister Augustus jumped in fright.
"Sorry if I frightened you, Sister; that wasn't my intention."
"Pay it no mind, but next time, make sure you knock or something. Rather, what brings you here?"
"Sister, I went hunting a few hours ago—I just got back from the forest. I'd like to make a request in exchange for my game."
Sister Augustus frowned, then glanced at her hourglass. Her frown deepened. "Did you miss class again today? And more importantly, what is a kid like you doing hunting in the first place?"
"Hah… Don't even say anything more." With a hand on her forehead, she sank into a nearby chair, frustration etched on her face. "What is it that you want? Just spit it out; I'll see what I can do."
Taking a deep breath, Yurshel spoke clearly: "I'd like permission to ask Lana the Huntress to teach me her trade."
"What does a seven-year-old boy like you want with learning her trade? Why aren't you playing with the others, being in class like everyone else?"
"To answer your first question, I just want to learn a practical skill and give something back to the orphanage for all it's done for me. And as for the second… I'm pretty sure you know by now that I've already learned everything from that class by reading the books in the library, Sister."
"Of course I remember. How could I forget? By the time you started walking, you were already sneaking into the library to read. We even had to bring in a locksmith to keep you out after hours."
Her eyes softened as she recalled those days—running through the halls, searching for the little devil who somehow learned to read at the age of four, wondering where on earth he'd picked it up.
"Get going. I will consult the matron tonight and see what can be done, but at the end of the day it will all depend on Lana, surely, if she would deign to even teach you."
With the bell ringing to mark the end of classes, Yurshel steps out of the office and into the corridor, where he bumps into a group of other kids. They all turn to look at him. He isn't oblivious to the strange looks they give, but he doesn't take them to heart.
****
The sunset stretched across the horizon, painting the sky in hues of crimson and gold—a breathtaking sight that could leave any art lover in a trance. Despite the snowfall veiling its grandeur.
At that very moment, a heated discussion was unfolding in the matron's office.
"You can't let him do that, Matron! It's bad enough we have to deal with his disregard for the rules, but now he wants more. Hmph—give someone an inch, and they'll take a mile." Turning sharply to Augusta, he added, "And you—how could you let this drag on for so long? Because of his behavior, the other kids might start acting unruly."
"In no way do you have the right to blame me! WHAT COULD YOU HAVE DONE BETTER? THAT KID SOLVED EVERYTHING YOU THREW AT HIM. HE'S BETTER THAN YOU EVER WERE—EVEN AS A CHILD!"
Feeling the matron's gaze on her, Augusta drew a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. "Sorry… I lost my composure for a moment. What I'm trying to say is simple: he's the smartest of all those kids right now—dare I say, even more mature. So yes, I agree to grant his request."
Red with anger and embarrassment at Augusta's words, Larc snapped, "That shouldn't matter, Matron! I refuse to let such an unruly individual do as he pleases. To add—"
"Enough of your bickering." The matron, silent until now, rose from her seat. Her voice cut through the tension. "It's up to me to make the final decision, is it not?"
"Yes, ma'am," they answered in unison.