After they finished the food, Mom picked the dishes up and began washing. They didn't have faucets, so Mom just poured water from a bucket and released them on the bowls. But at least they had a pipeline to drain the water. She mentioned it being built by dad, connected to a river.
Same for their toilet/chamber pot. The river is probably polluted as shit… literally with shit. Your business just slides down that hole and you pray it doesn't get stuck. Don't they get purifying or plumbing magic? That'll probably pay well in this period.
Rye stood behind Mom.
He moved his eyes off the pipes, then landed on the furnace.
Well, under the furnace where wood was inside. There was a juicy, heavy, black charcoal in the chamber, which could be used as ink in drawings. To activate the system and test his powers out.
As far as Rye had explored, their house didn't have any paper or ink. So charcoal is a huge help as an early alternative.
Rye sighed, kneeled down, then picked up a small charcoal without Mom noticing. He considered drawing on the table, but thought again once he remembered drawings manifest as real attacks.
Rye decided to head outside. He opened the front door and stepped foot in the grass.
"Be careful, Rye. You just healed." Mom said while scrubbing the dishes. Rye nodded and continued.
The area was all grass. The surroundings were trees, and the open area of the blue sky. Some rocks here and there, and there was even a waterfall nearby. This place is obviously the outskirts!
Surprisingly, Rye's family had a gate. A stone gate surrounding their wooden home. So all this area is theirs? Not that big, but obviously enough to fit a car vertically. Not that they'd have one in this time period.
Rye went out the gates and walked towards a nearby tree. A surface he can draw on. With that, he scrubbed the bark with charcoal and carved out the shape of a star.
Fibble… fibble… fibble.
Rye finished the drawing and sneered proudly. He waited ten seconds to see if the tree would get cut down… or maybe a supernova explode where he drew. Nothing happened.
"Huh?" Rye tilted his head, confused.
[System: Put mana on the drawing.]
Oh. Should've told him earlier.
With the system's help, Rye placed his hand on the tree and imagined pouring mana on it. He closed his eyes to focus… and nothing happened again. He couldn't figure out how to use mana, nor how to extend it to the drawing.
"Aghh, this is a pain!" Rye groaned, but his unusual voice only made him more irritated. If only he had ink and paper, and maybe knowledge from the old body, then this would've turned out easier.
"What are you doing, Rye?" A girl's voice came from behind, which somehow knew his name. Rye turned around in shock. Probably 'Mari', his sister according to Mom.
"Oh, sis, can you teach me how to pour mana outwards?" Rye asked.
Mari wore white-long sleeves, and had the same brown hair as Mom. She leaned in and gripped his head.
"Are you healed now? You shouldn't go outside yet." She said, concerned.
Oh, right. Old Rye was sick for a week. Those days were probably hard for his family. He should act naturally, roleplay as a child who'd just healed.
Pushing too far might get her suspicious.
Mari leaned close, checked his forehead's temperature, and sighed in relief. She smiled and nodded to Rye's request. Surprisingly. "Alright. Since you're okay now, I'll teach you mana. But don't exhaust yourself too much."
She continued, "But I didn't think you had any interest in magic."
"Well, I want to be stronger to not catch any more sickness." Rye reasoned, then dropped the charcoal to hide it. His right hand was still smeared with black. The tree, too, still had the star-drawing.
That reply was pretty natural, no? Controlling mana would make sickness less common. Did old Rye really have no interest in magic?! That's probably why he fell sick.
"That's fair." She replied. "Alright. I'll teach you basic mana control. Listen up."
Mari stepped back and crossed her arms, looking like she was deciding where to start. Her expression was serious—way too serious for teaching a seven-year-old, but Rye didn't mind. He needed this lesson.
"First, you need to feel your mana," she said. "It's inside you. Naturally. As natural as breathing air."
Rye nodded, trying to look attentive.
"Close your eyes."
Rye followed.
"Focus on your chest. Not your heart, but the space around it. There's warmth there. Can you feel it?"
Rye concentrated. At first, nothing. Just the sound of birds chirping and wind rustling leaves. Then—there. A faint sensation. Like light flickering in his ribcage.
"I think so."
"Good. That's your mana core. Everyone has one. Even people who never awaken a pathway." Mari's voice was calm and instructional. "Now, imagine that warmth spreading. Down your arms. To your fingertips."
Rye visualized it. The warmth moved sluggishly at first, like honey through a straw. But then it picked up, flowing smoother down to his fingertips..
"Open your eyes."
Rye did. His hand was glowing faintly—barely visible in daylight, but there. A soft, pale blue light around his fingers.
"That's mana," Mari said, almost shcoked. "You're circulating it. Most kids take weeks to do that on their first try. I'm surprised."
'Because I'm not a kid,' Rye thought, but kept his face neutral. He was pretty happy it worked on his first try. No need for weeks of training. "Now?..."
"Now you push it out." Mari held up her own hand.
Her fingers glowed brighter, more vivid—steel-gray instead of blue. "Like this. Will it to leave your body."
She flicked her wrist.
The glow shot forward, solidifying mid-air into a thin, sharp blade that hovered for a moment before dissolving.
Rye stared. 'Holy shit. She just made a sword out of nothing.'
"That's my pathway," Mari explained. "Steel. I can create and control metal, mostly blades. Dad says it's a strong variant of the Metal pathway."
"That's... really cool."
She looked pleased but covered it quickly. "Your turn. Try pushing mana out of your hand. Don't worry if nothing happens. You probably haven't awakened yet."
Rye focused again. Felt the warmth in his chest, guided it down his arm, pooled it in his palm. Then—pushed.
The glow flickered. Faded. Nothing manifested.
Mari nodded like she expected this. "That's normal. Mana circulation is step one. Manifestation is step two, and that usually requires a pathway. Since you haven't awakened..."
"Yeah." Rye played along, acting disappointed. "Guess I'm not there yet."
But internally, he was analyzing. 'So I CAN circulate mana now. The system said I need to pour it into drawings to activate them. If I can push mana out of my hand, I can charge a drawing.'
'Once she leaves, I'll try it out.'
Mari patted his head, satisfied. "Don't feel bad. Most people don't awaken until they're ten. Some even later. You've got time."
"Yeah. Thanks for teaching me, sis."
"Of course." She glanced at the sky—the sun was getting lower. "I need to go gather herbs before dark. Stay close to the house, okay? And don't overdo the mana practice. You'll make yourself sick again."
"I won't."
Mari studied him for a moment longer, like she was trying to figure something out. Then she shook her head and turned toward the forest path.
"I'll be back in an hour. If you need anything, Mom's inside. And don't worry, I already ate."
Rye watched her disappear into the trees, her white sleeves blending with the foliage until she was gone.
He waited. Counted to sixty in his head just to be safe.
Then he turned back to the tree.
"I'll draw my first manifestation, then. Thank you Mari." He whispered.
He eyed the star-drawing.
And put his hand on the surface.