Chapter 5: A quiet Day
Sunlight spilled into Ian's room, warm against his skin. For the first time in days, he felt… light.
Birds outside sang almost like in a kids movie. It felt kinda like a nostalgic summer from his childhood waking up like this.
Charlotte hummed softly in the clinic below, and Ryn's quiet footsteps echoed reassurance.
Maybe today wouldn't crush him. Maybe, just maybe, he could breathe without the shadow of failure pressing down.
Getting out of bed wasn't a struggle this time. He stretched, glaring daggers at the paper on the floor from his failed magic "experiment."
As he walked down the stairs, his heavy steps caught the attention of the others.
Ryn looked up from the hall below, and Charlotte stepped out from a room down the corridor.
"Look who's up early today," Charlotte called, her voice carrying across the clinic.
Ian didn't respond.
He simply nodded, not feeling like answering after yesterday's news.
I really won't be able to use magic, will I…
The thought echoed in his mind—not as a question, but as a resigned answer to his own consciousness.
Ryn smiled faintly. "I must say, you're up early if I do say so myself."
Ian gave the same silent nod he had for Charlotte. The room felt thick with unspoken concern.
"Are you alright, sir? You look under the weather," Ryn asked gently.
Ian hadn't noticed it, but his mouth drooped slightly, his eyebrows furrowed.
The reminder of yesterday's failure pressed against him, courtesy of the stupid paper on the floor. He swallowed and, after a long pause, forced out:
"Yeah… I'm fine. Just tired." He plastered on a fake smile, but for a brief second, a neutral expression flickered before he hid it under his "grin."
Ryn noticed. He didn't pry. Some wounds weren't ready to be opened.
Charlotte leaned against the hall railing, arms crossed. "He doesn't share what's on his mind. As usual," she muttered, her voice echoing.
Ian expected a snarky remark, but it never came. Perhaps she'd forgotten—or chosen not to say it.
He let his gaze wander across the room before finally speaking.
"So… anyone want breakfast?" His voice was quiet, but the question hung in the air.
"Sure, but we don't have any bread,"
Charlotte replied, moving toward them.
Ian descended the remaining steps, standing proudly on the last one.
"I can go buy a loaf or two. It's not like im good for much else" he said, a mixture of playfulness and buried truth in his tone.
Charlotte handed him some silver coins. "Only—and I mean only—bread. Got it?" Her voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.
Ian blinked, slightly shocked by her raised voice so early in the morning. "Got it," he muttered before stepping out into the city street.
5.1 – The Streets
The cobblestones were slick from last night's rain.
The smell of roasting meat mingled with the sharp tang of fish from a nearby stall. Ian noticed a man ducking into the crowd, a hand brushing past a merchant's purse his senses tingling, though he wasn't sure why.
"It's pretty wet inbetween the cobblestone." Ian said, breaking the almost awkward silence as they walked.
"Correct. It rained quite heavily last night. Did you sleep through it?" Ryn said as he uncounciously rubbed his sole against the cracks of the road.
Ian nodded. Looking at Ryn's small gesture with his foot as it caught his attention in the corner of his eye.
"Yeah, I'm a pretty heavy sleeper. I sleep through most stuff as long as I go to bed early, that is."
Ryn couldn't help but chuckle slightly. "I expected that from you. You seemed well rested today when you came down, so I thought you might've slept undisturbed through the night."
This moment made Ian forget Ryn was his guardian, their casual chat made it seem more like a friendship than anything else.
He glanced at Ryn. The knight's eyes followed the same man, but with calm precision. Ian felt… powerless.
Until, he remembered his hands. Could he…? No. Not here. Not now. Not with anyone watching. He couldn't perform magic and would only embarass himself.
Ryn spoke as he sensed Ians unease from previous outings. None of them had turned out good after all."I heard there are some good vendors around the end of this street,"
Ian jumped slightly at the voice, then remembered. Right… he's my guardian.
"Did you say something, sir?" Ryn asked, though he clearly knew the answer.
"Eh, forget it. Let's get the bread and go back before we get attacked again," Ian muttered, his tone cautious and uncertain.
Ryn stepped forward, walking alongside him. He could sense Ian's lingering unease from previous outings fade slightly as he did so.
The city street was loud, bustling with merchants and passersby.
People glanced, surprised to see a knight like Ryn walking casually among them.
Finally, they reached a bread stand. The smell of fresh loaves filled the air.
"Ah, that's nice," Ian said, taking it all in.
"Sure is, young boy!" the shopkeeper chuckled.
Ian hesitated, a strange feeling crawling across his neck. Unfamiliar eyes watched.
As if someone waited for Ryn to look away.
Ryn sensed them too. His guard was up. But he was unsure if Ian knew, so he didn't bring it up.
After two long minutes, Ian finally said, "We'll take two." His voice was guarded, a reflection of his lack of confidence.
The shopkeeper laughed. "That's all? I expected more from the thinking time you took." He placed the loaves on the counter.
"That'll be five silver, boy." He looked at Ian expectantly.
Ian reached into his pocket—empty. A chill ran down his spine.
Ryn noticed immediately.
Calm as ever, he pulled a few coins from his own pocket. "Here, take these," he said, handing them over to Ian.
Ian felt a pang of envy at Ryn's composure. Compared to him, Ryn was always ready, always calm.
Ian's hands clenched in his pockets, his stomach tightening, pride washed away by a moment of humiliation.
The shopkeeper took the coins Ryn offered and handed over the loaves. "Have a nice day, sir," Ryn said as they left.
They walked back in silence until Ryn broke it.
"We don't have to tell Charlotte about the coins if you don't want. Pickpockets are common here—especially in crowded streets." His tone was longer than usual, but Ian didn't mind.
"Got it," Ian said. It had become his signature line.
"Great," Ryn replied, and silence returned.
5.2 – An Unexpected Moment
A little boy, crying, caught Ian's attention. He had fallen, scraping his knee. Something inside Ian urged him to approach.
"Hey, are you alright?" he asked.
The boy paused. "I… I fell and scraped my knee."
Ian glanced at Ryn, who observed silently. Then he crouched to the boy's level.
"Ouch, that had to hurt," Ian said with a soft laugh.
The boy looked puzzled. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing… just remembering the good ol' times," Ian murmured, almost without realizing it.
He placed a hand on the boy's knee. A faint warmth spread. When he removed his hand, the wound was gone—but a sharp twinge of pain shot through his own knee.
He froze, crouched in shock. The boy thanked him and ran off to join his friends, leaving Ian staring at his hands.
"What… just happened?" Ian whispered.
Ryn stepped closer, equally confused. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah...what was that?" Ian asked Ryn.
Ryn looked calculatingly back. "I didn't sense any mana from you. And I still don't..."
This only ended up making them both more confused.
Ian's gaze dropped to his hands. If it wasn't magic… but the knee—did I… transfer it to myself? He thought.
He shook his head. Nothing else mattered. Not the pain. Not the how.
Only the strange, new possibility of what he might be capable of.
"My knee hurts a little now. But it doesn't appear to be..." Ian said to himself.
"That's...weird...it's as if you transferred the wound from the little boy to you."
"Sir, I highly recommend you keep quiet about this. I've never heard of anything like it..." Ryn commanded. It wasn't a recommendation. It was more as an order for his own safety.
"...Got it." Escaped Ian for the third time. signing a mental note to stop saying "got it" all the time.
Ian walked back with Ryn, his eyes glued to his hands the entire way.
He didn't even look up when there were people who almost bumped into him. Forcing them to walk around him like a rock in a river.
It was as if his hands were the most interesting thing in the world.
HE couldn't shake the unease creeping up his spine.
What did Ryn mean by keeping quiet about this? To him, it felt like a miracle. He could practically use magic. Even though Ryn hadn't sensed any mana coming from him.
So what was it?
"So, uh… why is this so serious?" Ian asked."I thought it was a good thing. You said I couldn't use magic."
Ryn stopped.
He turned, then bent slightly to meet Ian at eye level.
"Quiet," Ryn said.
The word landed heavier than Ian expected.
"This isn't something you speak about in public. It's for your own safety. Understood?"
The casual edge was gone. What remained was firm, cold, and unmistakably final.
Ian swallowed, nodding. But the unease didn't leave.
He barely recognized Ryn anymore.
5.3 – Back at the Clinic
As they returned to the clinic, Ian walked straight inside without a word—passing Charlotte without even looking at her.
Ryn followed, the bread tucked under his arm. He handed it to Charlotte as she reached for it.
"So," she said, eyes narrowing slightly. "What happened now?"
Ryn shook his head.
"Nothing worth mentioning," he replied evenly. "I'm not entirely sure what Ian's been thinking."
It was a lie.
Charlotte studied him for a moment, then turned away, apparently satisfied.
A knight had no reason to lie.
At least, that's what she believed.
Charlotte grabbed a bread knife and began to cut the loaf into smaller slices. Butter and cheese were already on the table.
Everyone sat around as she had finished. Neither Ian or Ryn dared to speak. Thinking it might reveal their secret and upset Charlotte somehow.
On the other side of the table she sat. Looking intently at Ian, who hadn't said a word since he walked inside. "What happened to you?" She asked.
Ian perked up, caught off guard from the question. "I uhh... Uhm.. I remembered some stuff. I don't really wanna talk about it."
Ian wasn't essentially lying. His thoughts had drifted to his life on earth a few times on the way here. Feeling worthless seems to be something universal, a thing that wouldn't change depending on where he was. Even if it was some other world or galaxy entirely.
Ian let out a sigh he didn't know he held. Luckily for him, Charlotte had dropped it. She seemed to be too hungry to listen as she practically ate like there was more tomorrow.
Ian and Ryn shot a look at eachother, before they eventually spread the butter over their bread slices.
"This is quite good I must say. Show me where you bought it next time." She said, looking at Ryn. Not at Ian. Even though he was the one who had offered to buy the bread. Even though he didn't technically buy it himself.
It was a small feeling that struck him. Like hitting the nerve on your elbow. It felt weird. Like he wasn't really acknowledged. Or as if his existence didn't matter.
Ian's fingers tingled as he flexed them slowly.
He hesitated, half-expecting sparks or fire—or something violent—but there was only the faint heat lingering in his palm.
Was this… a power? Or something else entirely? Something darker? His mind raced.
If he could take someone's pain onto himself…
was that safe? Was he safe? Could anyone else be hurt without knowing it?
He swallowed hard, the weight of the possibilities pressing down on his chest.
Why was Ryn so cautious about it? he thought.
Could it be tied to some anti-magic? No, then Ryn would have sensed it.
Ryn sensed Ians subtle movements as he cracked his fingers. Still, the sensation of unfamiliarity loomed over Ian.
Charlotte seemed to have caught on by now. But she didn't say anything. If she were to ever bring it up it would be much later when she knew for sure. She quietly sipped her tea, which neither Ryn or Ian had seen her make.