The third month brought subtle yet significant changes.
One day, konstant woke up and realized that he hadn't thought about the cabin in two days. This realization came with a sharp pang of guilt. How could I forget? How could I just move on?" But the realization also brought something that might have been relief. The konstant pain and weight in his chest that he had carried since waking in the warehouse had lessened, becoming more bearable. It was still there and always would be, but it no longer suffocated his every breath.
He mentioned it to Luna one day, without thinking much, while they checked a trap.
"Sometimes I forget where I came from," he said, and then stopped, surprised he had spoken it aloud.
Luna looked at him with those big, serious eyes. "Is it bad? Forgetting?"
"I don't know. It feels like it should be."
She considered this, swinging her legs slightly as she sat on a fallen log. "I forget what my daddy's voice sounded like sometimes. I remember it was deep, but I can't... really hear it in my head." Her fingers played with the bow in her hair. "I thought I would remember forever. But it's getting fuzzier. Like when you try to hold fog."
konstant sat beside her. "I think that's how it works. We don't forget the people, but... the details get less sharp. Like old photos that fade."
"Do you think it's because we don't want to remember? Like, our brains are trying to protect us?"
"Maybe. Or maybe it's just... we keep living. And new life creates new memories that take up space."
Luna was quiet for a moment, which was rare. Then: "I don't want to forget completely. Even if it hurts to remember. Because if I forget..." her voice got very small, "it's like they never existed."
"They did exist," konstant said firmly. "And you remembering or not doesn't change that. They were real. The love they had for you was real. Even if the details get blurry, that doesn't go away."
It was more words than he usually offered, more emotional openness than came easily. But Luna needed to hear it, and he needed to believe it, too.
Luna leaned lightly against him, a six year old seeking comfort the only way she knew how. "You're a good big brother, you know?"
konstant blinked, surprised. "We're not siblings."
"I know. But it's kind of like that, right? You look after me. Teach me things. Don't disappear." She looked up. "Can I pretend you are? Just a little bit?"
Something tightened in konstant's chest, not painful, but intense. "Yes. You can pretend."
"Cool." Luna hopped to her feet, energy returning as it always did. "Then as my big brother, you have to teach me that thing about making fire by rubbing sticks together! Gareth said you mentioned knowing how to do that!"
And the moment had passed, but something had changed. Some connection had solidified into something more permanent.
Gareth noticed, of course. He noticed everything. That night, after Luna had gone to sleep and konstant was organizing equipment for the next day, the hunter spoke.
"You are good for her."
konstant looked up, surprised. Gareth rarely offered personal observations.
"She smiles more now. Actually smiles, not that thing she used to do before. And she asks less about her parents." Gareth cleaned a knife with methodical movements. "Not that she's forgotten. But she's processing it better. You help with that."
"I don't do much," konstant said, uncomfortable with the praise.
"You are present. Consistently present. For a child who had important people vanish without explanation, that matters." Gareth looked directly at him. "So, thank you. For being what she needs."
konstant didn't know how to respond, so he just nodded. But the words stayed with him, heavy and important.
***
In the fourth month, something interesting began happening in the fields.
Raid was working with Tomos when he noticed something strange. One section of the plants seemed to be growing faster, greener, healthier than the rest. Not dramatically, but visibly if you knew to look.
He pointed it out to Tomos, expecting some explanation about soil or irrigation.
Tomos inspected it, then looked at Raid with a thoughtful expression. "When did you work here? In this section?"
"Yesterday morning. Why?"
"Hm." Tomos touched one of the plants, examining the leaves. "Interesting."
"What's interesting?"
Tomos didn't answer directly. Instead, he guided Raid to another section. "Work here today. Just here. I will observe."
Raid did as asked, confused but obedient. He planted, weeded, aerated the soil, all the usual work. Tomos watched from a distance, arms crossed, expression impossible to read.
When they finished for the day, Tomos only said: "Tomorrow we check again."
The next day, that second section also seemed slightly healthier. Subtle, but present.
"You have an affinity," Tomos said finally, as if that explained everything.
"Affinity for what?"
"Earth." Tomos stamped his foot firmly on the ground. "Some Mystics have it. It is not magic in the sense of spells or obvious power. It is... a connection. The earth responds to you. Soil you touch becomes firmer, stronger. It is subtle, but it is there."
Raid blinked, processing. "Is that... good?"
"Very good. It means you have a solid foundation to build upon. The earth does not lie, does not fail. If it recognizes you, it is because there is something solid in you, too." Tomos placed a heavy hand on Raid's shoulder. "It is a rare gift. Valued."
It was the first clear manifestation of something mystical in any of the three. It wasn't dramatic like throwing fire or making water float. But it was real, it was useful, and it was his.
Raid told the others that night, words coming out in disjointed pieces as he tried to explain.
"So you, like, have a connection to the earth?" Keiko asked, trying to understand.
"I guess so. It's not on purpose. It just happens. The soil gets firmer when I touch it."
konstant looked thoughtful. "Maybe it's linked to your mark. To the divine fragment or whatever it is. Manifesting in a specific way for you."
"Tomos said some Mystics have natural affinities. Different for each one."
"That makes sense," Keiko said. "Mira was explaining the other day about how Mystic powers are more... intuitive than studied magic. Linked to a person's essential nature." She looked at her own hands. "I wonder what mine will be."
"And mine," konstant added.
They didn't have answers. But knowing that something was beginning to manifest in Raid made everything seem more real. More permanent. They really were Mystics now, not just children with strange marks.
Aldric visited occasionally to check on them, and on one such visit, konstant asked about the power systems he had mentioned before.
"You said there are different types. Arcane Art, Martial Combat, Mysticism. But... how exactly do they work? How do people learn magic if they aren't born with power?"
Aldric seemed pleased with the question. "I will show you something. Come."
He led them to his house and into a space that seemed part workshop, part library. There was a table covered with scrolls, some showing complex diagrams that looked like circuits but more organic, more artistic.
"This," said Aldric, unrolling a specific scroll, "is the basic channeling diagram. It is the first thing students of the Arcane Art learn." It was a circle with symbols around it and lines connected in specific patterns. "Studied magic works through understanding. You learn to feel the mana, the energy that permeates everything. You learn patterns that direct this energy. You also learn words and gestures that focus the will."
He touched one of the symbols. "This represents the water element. This represents movement. This represents containment. Combined correctly, with will channeled through the pattern, you can move water. Like Elara, the woman you saw on the first day."
"So it's... like math?" Keiko asked. "Formulas that always work if you do them right?"
"In a sense, yes. Just as there are laws governing physics, there are laws governing magic. Break them, and nothing happens or things happen wrongly." Aldric unrolled another scroll. "But it also requires innate talent. Some can feel mana easily. Others never can, no matter how much they study. That is why not everyone can be a mage."
"And the runes?" konstant pointed to a weapon on the wall: a sword with symbols engraved on the blade. "You mentioned Runic Guardians."
"Ah, yes. Another path." Aldric picked up the sword, handling it carefully. "Runes are magic encoded into objects. Someone with knowledge carves the symbols, infuses them with power, and then anyone with basic training can activate them. They don't need to understand complex magical theory, just know how to feed the rune with intent."
He touched one of the runes, and it glowed softly blue. "This is the sharpening rune. It keeps the blade always sharp. It is simple, but useful. More complex runes can do much more: store energy, create shields, even launch projectiles."
"And Mystics?" Raid asked quietly. "How is our power different?"
Aldric replaced the sword. "Mystics do not follow the same rules. You have internal, innate power, linked to divine fragments within you. You do not need to study patterns or learn formulas. The power responds to will, to emotion, to need." He looked at Raid specifically. "Like the earth responding to your touch. You did not study how to do that. It simply... happened. Because it is part of who you are now."
"But does that mean we have no control?" Keiko frowned. "Does it just happen randomly?"
"Initially, yes. That is why Mystics are dangerous when young and untrained. It is power without control." Aldric sat and gestured for them to do the same. "But, with time, training, and meditation, you learn to direct it. To channel it intentionally. That is why Aethérion exists: to teach that control and prevent powerful Mystics from causing accidental destruction."
"Or on purpose," konstant murmured.
"Or on purpose," Aldric agreed. "Mystics without morals or control are... problematic. There are stories of some who caused massive devastation. That is why society fears Mystics as much as it respects them."
It was a lot to process. But it helped them understand the world, understand their place in it.
"Eventually," Aldric continued, "each of you will discover your specific affinities. Raid is already beginning with his connection to earth. Keiko, konstant yours will manifest too. It may be gradual or sudden. But it will come."
"And if we don't want it?" Keiko asked. "What if we just want to be... normal?"
Aldric looked at her with compassion. "Too late for that. The marks are not going away. The power will not disappear. You can choose not to develop it, but it will still be there, leaking at the edges. Better to learn to control it than to leave it wild."
It was a hard truth, but a necessary one. They were no longer the children they had been on Earth. They were something else now. And the sooner they accepted that, the better.
***
In the fifth month, the village began preparing for the autumn harvest.
It was a busy period, with everyone working long hours to bring in the crops before the weather changed. Raid worked from before dawn until after dusk, his muscles screaming, but his body enduring in ways it wouldn't have months ago.
The harvests in the sections he had tended were visibly better. Tomos didn't make a big spectacle of it, but other farmers noticed. They began asking Raid to come help in their fields too, offering extra food or small favors in return.
"You are becoming popular," Lira commented with amusement as she prepared another request for help that had arrived.
Raid didn't know how to feel about the attention. But the attention was for something positive, something he was good at, so... maybe it was okay.
konstant was busy too, hunting more intensely to ensure enough meat for the coming winter. Gareth took him on longer hunts now, trusting him to be alone for short periods, to track independently, to make decisions without konstant supervision.
"You are no longer just an apprentice," Gareth said one day. "You are becoming a true hunter. You still have much to learn, but your foundation is solid."
It was recognition that meant a great deal.
Keiko helped Mira prepare large quantities of preserves, pickled vegetables, fruits in syrup, and dried herbs that would last the winter. The work was intense and repetitive, but they took satisfaction in seeing the shelves fill with food that would help the village survive the cold months.
"You have done well this year," Mira said at the end of a particularly long day. "When you arrived, you knew nothing. Now... you still have much to learn, but you are no longer useless."
Coming from Mira, it was practically a declaration of love. Keiko smiled, tired.
"Thank you. For teaching me."
"Hm. I teach, you learn. That is how it works." But there was something almost soft in Mira's eyes. "Next year you will do more on your own. I will trust you with more important tasks. If you continue to progress."
It was a promise of a future, recognition that Keiko had a place there. And despite everything, despite still desperately wanting to go home, there was a part of Keiko that... appreciated it. Appreciated being seen not as a spoiled rich girl, but as a capable person learning a real trade.
In the sixth month, something changed physically in the three of them in ways they could no longer ignore.
konstant had gained weight, not a lot, but enough that his ribs were no longer so prominent. Muscles had developed on his arms and shoulders after months of carrying equipment and pulling bows. His skin was even darker from the konstant sun, and there was a new confidence in his movements through the forest.
Keiko had changed, too. The konstant physical work had transformed her physique: she had lost her childish softness, replaced by lean muscle on her arms from the konstant grinding of herbs. Her hands were calloused and strong. There was less frustration on her face, less konstant anger; now, she was focused and determined.
Raid had changed the most drastically of all. His broad shoulders, once always hunched, now stayed straight naturally, a product of konstant work in the fields. His arms and back had become visibly stronger. He no longer automatically shrank when people approached. And, though he was still quiet, his silence was no longer one of fear, but of calmness.
"You look different," Luna commented one day, looking at the three of them when they met in the common area. "More... grown up? I don't know. Just different."
konstant looked at Keiko and Raid, seeing the changes Luna mentioned. "I guess we are. Different than we were."
"Is it bad?" Keiko asked.
"I don't know. It just is."
They stood there as the evening light painted everything in golden tones through the blue ring. Six months. Half a year. And they still had two and a half years until the inspector came.
It felt like an eternity. But it also... felt more manageable now. Less like a life sentence and more like... just life. Strange, alien, unchosen. But life nonetheless.
And perhaps, just perhaps, they were learning how to live it.