***
Shoko woke slowly, like someone rising from deep water.
Warmth touched his face first then sunlight slipping through the wooden shutters. Then softness, actual softness beneath him. Shoko looked down to see a bed. A real bed. Woven blankets, a pillow that didn't smell like iron or dust, and sheets that brushed his skin like feathers.
For a moment, he lay there frozen, terrified that it was a trick of his mind. That if he moved, he'd wake in the quarry again. Something he never wished for, ever again.
Then a gentle voice drifted from somewhere nearby waking him from his thoughts.
"You're awake. Good."
Shoko turned his head.
Ariandel stood near the hearth, tending a pot steaming with herbs. But today, in the light of morning, he truly saw her.
She was tall and graceful, with an aura that felt like both sunlight and moonlight. Her hair flowed in loose waves down her back, silver at the top, deep gold towards the ends, like metal melting into light. Her eyes were striking, warm amber with specks of luminous blue, as if the sky itself had left stars inside them. Across her cheeks and upper chest shimmered faint markings, arcane sigils, inked in soft silver, glowing when the light struck them.
Her clothing was layered and flowing, a deep-indigo robe embroidered with constellations, a wide belt of silver threads, and a mantle of white fur draped around her shoulders. She looked like elegance and power woven into one person. Someone important. Someone unforgettable.
Someone no one would mistake in a crowd.
Shoko blinked, feeling suddenly small, frail, and unsure. His reflection in a nearby water bowl caught his eye, hair pale as frost sticking out in uneven lengths; skin thin and unhealthy; and those strange purple eyes that glowed faintly even in dim light. He didn't look human. He never had.
But Ariandel smiled at him the same way she had the night before, soft, warm, unafraid.
"How do you feel?" she asked.
Shoko sat up slowly. "Different."
"Different good or different bad?"
He hesitated. "Different... quiet."
Ariandel nodded as if she understood exactly. "That's what safety feels like."
Shoko lowered his eyes.
Safety.
The word didn't hurt anymore. It was more peace than anything really.
Ariandel set a wooden bowl in his hands. The broth was rich, warm filled with vegetables and slices of something soft and sweet. Steam curled upward and warmed his face. Shoko's eyes gleamed ready to eat everything as fast as he could in a hurry to try everything then Ariandel reminded him.
"Slowly," she reminded him. "Your body isn't used to real meals."
Shoko did as told, tasting each sip like it was a treasure. She watched him with a soft expression, not bitter, but something gentler. Something protective.
After a while, he asked, "Ariandel... why did you save me?"
Her spoon paused mid-stir.
"Because someone should have," she said quietly. "Because you were a child alone in pain. Because you deserved a name. Because your light called for help."
Shoko placed a hand on his chest. He didn't feel a light there, just a small tremble.
"And now," she continued, voice warm, "you are Shoko."
He held the name carefully in his mind. It felt like something precious he was afraid to drop.
Ariandel smiled. "Finish eating. Then we begin today's lesson."
"Lesson?" Shoko blinked.
"Yes," she said. "If you're to live freely in this world, you must learn what you are and how to use the magic that lives inside you."
Magic. The word made something deep inside him tremble, not fear this time, but curiosity.
Ariandel led him outside to the clearing behind the cabin. The forest wrapped around them in a circle of towering trees, their leaves glowing emerald in the morning light. Birds trilled overhead, and he air smelled like pain and cool dew.
Shoko shivered. The world was loud with things he had never heard before.
Ariandel rested a hand on his shoulder. "You're not used to wide spaces."
Shoko shook his head.
"That's all right," she said gently. "Stay near me."
He did.
She stepped into the center of the clearing and motioned for him to stand opposite her.
"Before we begin," she said, "I want you to understand what magic is."
Shoko perked up as he listened.
"In our world," Ariandel explained, "magic comes from the soul. Most people have only a faint spark. Mages, however... have a forge. A fire that shapes the impossible."
She lifted her right hand. A soft blue glow spiraled from her palm.
"There are ten Veils," she continued. "Ten stages of power. Each one is around ten times stronger than the last. You do not ascend them by desire alone, you grow into them."
She turned her hand so he could see.
On the back of her hand was a glowing mark, a swirling sigil of layered arcs, each line elegant but sharp, like a crest carved by the stars themselves.
"This is my Mark of the Seventh Veil," Ariandel said softly.
Shoko stared. "You're.. strong."
"Strong enough to keep you safe," she said simply.
He looked down at his own hand. "Do I have a mark too?"
"You will," she said. "Once your magic awakens fully."
She knelt, leveling herself with him.
"Shoko... every mage has a type of magic shaped by who they are. By their past, their heart, their fears, their hopes." She touched her chest. "My magic is Celestial Weaving. I shape threads of starlight into runes, shields, pathways."
She touched his chest so lightly that it warmed the skin. "Yours is something different. I felt it when you burst through that stone wall."
Shoko swallowed. "Was that... me?"
"Your soul reacted to danger," she said. "It reached for something buried deep. Today, we will coax it out gently."
She stood and stepped back.
"Show me your breath."
Shoko took a deep, nervous breath.
"No," Ariandel said softly. "Not the body. The soul."
"How do I do that?"
"Close your eyes."
He did so.
"Listen," she murmured. "Not to me. Not to the forest. To the quiet inside you."
At first, he heard nothing. His heartbeat was too loud. His breath is too shaky. But slowly, a faint vibration formed in his chest it was tiny trembling, like a plucked string.
"I feel something," he whispered.
"That is your core," Ariandel said. "The first spark of your magic."
The sound grew clearer, the vibration spreading from his chest down his arms.
"Good," she breathed. "Now reach toward it... and let it reach back."
Shoko exhaled slowly.
Light flickered at his fingertips.
He opened his eyes.
Thin strands of pale light stretched between his delicate fingers, shimmering, almost invisible. But they hummed with quiet power, vibrating with the same rhythm as his heartbeat.
Shoko gasped. "What... what is this?"
Ariandel's eyes widened with admiration, not with fear.
"Thread craft," she whispered. "A rare one of the oldest, most lost branches of Light weaving."
She stepped closer, studying the threads with reverence.
"Most threads are simple. Decorative. Binding. Yours... look at them."
Shoko lifted his hand. The strings shimmered as spider silk spun from moonlight, thin and sharp yet beautiful.
"They respond to your emotions," she said.
"They shift with your heartbeat. They're alive."
"Shoko stared, trembling. "Are they dangerous?"
"They can be," she admitted. "Thread craft can cut. Bind, mend, seal, even manipulate movement. But power is not evil."
She placed a gentle hand on his cheek.
"What matters is the heart behind it."
Shoko swallowed.
"What... what do I do with them?"
Ariandel stepped back, lifting her own hand. Blue strings of light spiraled from her fingers, weaving together into a soft glowing sphere.
"Try to shape a thread," she said. "Just one. Let it curve. Let it bend."
Shoko took a slow, shaky breath.
The threads flickered. He focused on the feeling in his chest. The vibration. The warmth.
A single thread stretched outward like a beam of light, then curved gently into a loop, it was wobbly, uneven, but it was there.
Shoko's eyes widened. "I... I did it!"
Ariandel beamed. "You did. And I couldn't be more proud of you child."
The praise hit him harder than any magic. Something warm burst in his chest, something that made his throat tighten and eyes tingle.
She noticed.
"Shoko," she said softly, "it's all right to feel."
He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "I'm not used to this... sorry."
"I know."
She knelt again and opened her arms.
Shoko hesitated, breath shaking.
Then he stepped forward and fell into her embrace.
Ariandel's arms wrapped around him instantly, warm and firm. She held him as if he were something fragile but precious. Not broken, not worthless. Something worth protecting.
"You're doing wonderfully," she murmured, stroking his hair. "I'm proud of you."
The words shattered something inside him. Pride. Safety. Belonging. They filled places he didn't know were empty.
He clung to her, shaking, letting tears fall onto her robe. She didn't pull away. She didn't hush him. She simply held him, steady and warm.
When he finally calmed, Ariandel pulled back just enough to look into his eyes.
"You have a beautiful soul, Shoko."
His breath hitched.
"Even if no one told you before."
Shoko swallowed hard. "Ariandel... will you keep teaching me?"
Her smile softened.
"As long as you want me to."
He nodded quickly, eyes bright. "I want... I want to learn everything!"
Ariandel brushed a strand of white hair behind his ear. "Then we will learn together."
Suddenly, a faint glow flickered on the back of Shoko's hand.
He gasped.
A small symbol appeared it was simple but radiant, a tiny vertical line within a circle.
Ariandel's eyes shone with pride.
"The mark of the First Veil," she whispered. "You're beginning."
Shoko stared at it, breath trembling. "It's... mine?"
"Yes," she said. "Proof that your magic has awakened. Proof that you are no longer what they tried to make you."
He ran a finger over the mark, feeling warmth pulse beneath it.
Ariandel placed her hand on top of his. "This is the first step of your journey."
Shoko looked up at her.
"And I'm... not alone?"
"Never," she said firmly. "Not while I'm still breathing"
The wind stirred the clearing, rustling leaves around them. Light shimmered on the threads still floating between Shoko's fingers.
He took Ariandel's hand.
"Then... let's keep going."
She smiled.
"Yes, Shoko. Let us continue"
Together, they stepped into the morning light, teacher and student, protector and child, two souls bound by choice, not blood.
For the first time in his life, Shoko felt the future waiting for him, bright, terrifying, and beautifully unknown.