The next morning, I returned to my habit of waking up early, but my mood was a little off.
My chest felt tight, my eyes were itchy, and my body was stiff, as if I'd been lying flat on my back all night, tense and sleepless.
The ceiling was made of wood and clay, and the house smelled, as usual, like a blend of cherries and oak.
Yesterday's meeting had left a sour taste. I didn't want to remember Riam or her eyes. But what was done was done. My encounter with Riam came and went… and today was a new day.
I got out of bed.
"It's freezing," I murmured, my knees knocking together.
Cold always clouded my mood, but I usually think of positive things to keep me moving… like the vapor I released yesterday from my fingertips.
I wouldn't pretend I wasn't happy about discovering magic. If I imagined steam right now, I could probably see it floating in green wisps from my fingertip.
My eyes still burned, and sleep still pulled at me, but I'd grown used to early mornings—today would be no different.
I stepped out of bed and tiptoed softly down the stairs.
On the ground floor, the kitchen was open to the living room.
Alton sat at the table, steam rising from his cup. His calm eyes gazed out the window, half-lidded, full of an odd serenity.
The man rarely laughed. But whenever he saw me or Shirley, he smiled.
I could never read Alton's eyes, even though I'd known many eyes in my past life. But the darkness in Alton's… it was empty.
He was used to drinking tea, but I wasn't used to seeing him up this early.
"Good morning," I said as I pulled the chair to sit.
"Morning," Alton replied, his long fingers lifting the cup to his mouth. He took a sip, then gently set it down. The quiet clink of the cup on the wooden table echoed in the stillness.
"There aren't many birds in our neighborhood," I said. "Maybe because there aren't many trees around here."
"Does the silence bother you?" Alton asked.
"It makes me feel a little… lonely sometimes."
"Why don't you go to the forest and spend time with Riam? You might enjoy it."
"I'm afraid of that woman. She gives me the chills," I said, remembering her eyes.
Alton smiled, then reached his long arm across the table and placed his hand on my hair.
"I don't know much about her… but I think she could be good for you. Especially if you're passionate about magic."
"Aren't you strong, Dad?" I asked. "Why don't you teach me how to fight?"
Alton ruffled my hair side to side. I felt my wavy locks turn into a mess and my head spin slightly, but Alton seemed to enjoy the contact.
He pinched my cheek, withdrew his hand, and smiled as he sipped another mouthful of tea.
"It's not that I can't teach you to fight. It's that right now… you're not at the level where you'd survive even if I did. Trust me, you wouldn't benefit from learning how to wield a sword yet."
He took another sip.
Then added, "Magic is a good path. Let me know if you need another book. And you can go into the forest—but don't wander too long. And don't go near its center. The closer you get to the center, the more dangerous it gets."
Then, Alton stood up. "Alright, I have to go now. I'll be gone for a week."
What?
I was a bit surprised. Alton would sometimes leave for a day or two, usually escorting traders to nearby villages. But a week?
"It's a faraway village—three days there, three days back, and maybe a day's delay. Take care of Shirley. Don't go into the forest at night, and don't wander too long."
"Alright," I smiled. "Take care of yourself."
Alton smiled—his laugh soft, like his personality. He rarely laughed aloud, but whenever he did, I felt like I'd accomplished something just by witnessing his joy.
"Of course I'll take care of myself. You take care of yourself and Shirley."
"Yes, sir."
I said, and watched as Alton left the house.
I entered the forest gate around ten in the morning.
In my hand was the book I'd read yesterday. I wanted to reread it today. Maybe practice magic here, too.
The Thialis forest was quiet on both sides of the path.
When I reached a spot I'd previously marked by scratching the bark of a tree, I stepped into the woods.
Eventually, I leapt over a patch of tall grass and entered my secret field.
And froze in place.
"Rrrrghhh…"
The sound was like a growl—but it wasn't quite a lion's roar.
And even though our eyes met… neither of us moved.
That creature sat beside a small water basin, half-shaded by a giant oak.
Its presence was… unmistakable.
I never thought I'd see one in my life.
Its fur was brown. Its nose was black and long.
Even while seated, it was nearly two meters tall—taller than any bear I'd seen in my previous world.
It leaned against the oak, belly facing me, legs splayed wide…
Wait, why were they wide open?
The brown bear in front of me was… strange.
Its genitals moved as if jointed—
Wait!
That wasn't a pen*s.
And the bear… wasn't male.
It was a female giving birth.
A cub was emerging from her womb.
The sight made my stomach churn.
I tried to step back, but at the first movement, I collapsed. My legs lost all strength.
I mean…
I didn't come here to see a two-meter-tall brown bear! I came here to read a book!
Now I didn't even feel the book in my hand—I'd dropped it in shock.
"Grrrrrrrrrrr…" the bear growled.
Growled?
Wasn't the sound supposed to be a chuff or a grunt?
"GRRRRRRRRRRRRR!" it roared louder!
I forgot my fear. Energy burst to my legs, and I leapt backward.
Damn it, I should run.
But… what about the book?
I looked ahead. The book was a few meters in front of me.
I took a deep breath…
That book can't be replaced!
Books here weren't replaceable—they were handwritten, expensive.
I had to grab it and retreat—nothing more.
Just grab it and back away.
The breeze blew, the grass swayed, and I stepped forward.
The bear roared again—
And her cub, mid-birth, was flung several meters from her womb like a pebble, its umbilical cord snapping instantly.
The newborn landed half a meter from my book.
Damn it!!!
Why did you have to shoot your baby like that?!
Fear.
God, I was terrified.
My heart pounded, but I had to grab the book… it couldn't be replaced.
It's okay… the mother bear was exhausted, and the cub surely didn't have teeth to bite… right?
But… bears weren't usually this big.
I glanced analytically at the mother.
I took another step forward, and the cub crawled toward me.
In the moment it laid a paw on the book, I reached in and snatched it.
Maybe that wasn't the most brilliant move. I didn't expect the newborn to cling to the book so hard.
Now both the book and the cub were suspended in midair.
The mother bear's eyes widened, blood red.
"GRRRRRRRRR!" she roared.
In that instant, a shadow streaked past.
The book trembled.
The cub vanished.
I saw what happened, yet couldn't believe it.
It all happened too fast.
A snake, maybe, had swooped in and swallowed the cub.
I looked toward the edge of the clearing.
A black snake, its mouth bulging and dripping blood, slithered out of the clearing.
.
.
I'm in deep trouble, aren't I?
The mother bear's eyes flared crimson. She raised her head and roared to the sky.
Then fell to all fours.
And for the first time, I felt something ignite inside me.
Heat surged through my whole body. The book was in my hand. And my legs moved faster than I could think—sprinting me away!