(Garen's Point of View)
My mind was made up. The Children of Twilight. The Legacy of the Fallen Star. They weren't just rumors—they were direct threats. My warrior instincts, long dormant during years of peace, roared back to life. This couldn't wait.
"Borin, Lyra, Kael—urgent meeting," I ordered that night, my tone grim once Elara had ensured Lexo was sound asleep (though I doubt any of us got much sleep). "We need to move now. We must gather information—about this tribe, about the prophecy, and about who else knows about Lexo."
A heavy nod passed among us; we all knew what this meant.
"Love, you stay behind with Lexo," I continued, trying to keep my voice steady. "Your healing and defensive power are unmatched. But you two can't be left alone."
"I'll stay!" Borin declared without hesitation. "Someone's got to watch the house and keep an eye on the tadpole—and ward off any nosy intruders."
"We'll go," Lyra said, her hand resting on her bow as if it were part of her. "Kael and I are best at tracking and moving unseen. With the two of us, we can cover a lot of ground quickly."
Kael nodded and stepped from the shadows. "We'll find what we need, friend."
So it was decided. Lyra and Kael would leave at dawn; Borin would guard the house. I would coordinate from the town guard post using my Captain's authority and old contacts (ones I could use without alerting my father). And Lexo… Lexo would remain under strict house arrest until we learned more.
"Until we return—and until we know exactly what we're facing—my son is not leaving this house for any reason. Understood?" I stated, leaving no room for argument. "There's too much risk, too many unknowns, and what happened the other day can't happen again." I knew Lexo wouldn't like it, given his curiosity, but his safety was paramount.
(Lexo's Point of View)
The days after the six-armed beast incident felt suffocating. Dad stayed at the guard post for as long as we could manage. I could tell by the teddy bear blanket he clutched and the sad, puppy-dog eyes he gave me as he said goodbye. Lyra and Kael left on an "important mission" (of course, they wouldn't tell me what for). Mom clung to me more than ever, her eyes constantly on the lookout—even if she tried to hide it. And Borin? That big lug patrolled the house's perimeter with the ferocity of a grizzly, scaring off birds and any wandering salesmen. I wasn't allowed past the yard fence—not even to play with Lila.
Thankfully, Pietro became my daily rescue. Every afternoon, like clockwork, he'd come over with his Netamino board tucked under his arm. It was a simple game—a sort of chess with pieces representing warriors, mages, kings, queens, princes, and generals—but Pietro played it with a strategic depth that left me baffled. I never won, not even once, but the challenge was a welcome distraction from the tension that even Mom tried to hide.
"Victoriam," Pietro would announce calmly as he moved his Mage and put my King in check, for the fifth time in an hour. He never tired of winning.
I'd sigh and concede, still grateful he visited. "Alright, brainy, you win again."
"Your opening was too aggressive," he would analyze, methodically gathering the pieces. "You left your right flank exposed to my General's counterattack, dooming your prince." His tone was as precise as an encyclopedia.
Taking a deep breath, I approached as Pietro carefully packed his game into an old wooden box. I'd been mulling it over since our last conversation. He already knew about my Awakening and had accepted my mana "experiment"… so maybe I could trust him with another secret. The big one. My gut—remnants of my past life—told me this kid wasn't just an intelligent, loyal friend; he'd be invaluable in the future.
"Pietro," I began in a hushed tone, "I have something else to tell you. Something… important."
He looked up, his eyes growing more serious behind his glasses. "More important than being the hidden grandson of King Cedron?"
My jaw dropped. "How…?! I never even told you that!"
He shrugged. "It was a simple deduction. Your mother is Lady Elara Vanyae—a Light mage of near-mythical power who vanished from the capital years ago. Your uncle is General Valerius Vanyae, your mother's brother and the King's right-hand man. Your parents protect you with almost paranoid zeal, surrounded by retired Rank A adventurers, while Royal Guard soldiers keep coming in for 'healing'—and they linger longer than necessary, returning favors. The connection is… logical." He paused, then added, "Besides, my parents became unusually eager for me to stay here and be your friend after my last letter mentioned your name. They clearly saw a political advantage in having a Varrone close to the line of succession—even if indirectly."
His deductive ability was both infuriating and brilliant. "Alright, that's true—elementary, my dear Watson, and all that. But that's not what I wanted to tell you." I took a deep breath. "Pietro… I can… pause time."
I expected shock, disbelief—maybe even fear. But he simply adjusted his glasses, his expression unchanging.
"I believe you," he said calmly, finishing packing his notebook.
I blinked. "Really… just like that? No proof needed?"
"Negative," he replied. "You're a walking statistical anomaly—a five-year-old with an explosive Awakening, multiple affinities (including offensive Light), and the ability to nudge dormant magic in others. Your chronokinesis, while unique, fits the pattern of 'superior-level atypical powers.' It even explains how you stopped time, struck that Rank B– Shadow Bird with a thrown rock, and then softened your friend's fall with wind magic. Correct?"
I was momentarily speechless. "Uh… yeah. Give or take a few details, that's exactly what happened." His reconstruction was chillingly precise.
Pietro nodded, satisfied. "Perfect. Now, the important part: What are the scope, range, maximum duration, mana cost per second, and residual effects of your [Chronos] ability? How much have you figured out about its limits?"
I stared blankly. "Uh… it uses a lot of mana?"
Pietro's face twisted in genuine exasperation. "That's it? You have a power that could alter the very laws of the universe, and your only observation is 'it uses a lot of mana'? Lexo!" he exclaimed, almost raising his voice.
That brought us to our current situation. Pietro, with his notebook and a piece of charcoal, is now directing a series of improvised tests in the backyard, under Borin's sleepy, indifferent gaze. He probably just sees two kids playing.
Looking at Pietro's notebook—more like a portable encyclopedia—I see:
--------------- Data Analysis ---------------
Test 001: Subject L.
Chronos Cost: 1 MP per active second (150 MP allows for about 2.5 minutes total, if used continuously).
Maximum Duration: Around 30 seconds before intense mental fatigue sets in.
Range: A circular dome with a maximum radius of roughly 40 meters; everything outside continues moving normally. Attempts to "contract" the bubble have failed—the cost remains fixed while active.
Physical Interaction: I can move freely within the time bubble; objects I throw can affect the frozen world—but if released without intention, they remain suspended.
Spellcasting: I can cast one simple spell (a gust of wind or a small spark) while time is paused, but it consumes extra MP and greatly increases mental fatigue. Trying more complex spells collapses the pause immediately.
Concentration: Crucial. A strong distraction can break the pause prematurely.
Side Effects: Extreme physical exhaustion after use—about three times what the energy expenditure would normally suggest.
---------- Inconclusive; more tests are needed. ----------
"Interesting…" Pietro murmured, scribbling furiously. "Limited, but with enormous tactical potential if used correctly. We need more data."
Just then, a sing-song voice interrupted: "Whatcha doin'?"
It was Lila, peeking over the fence—her grounding was over too.
"The proper phrase is 'what you're doing,' Lila," Pietro corrected automatically without looking up.
"Let's play, Lila!" I called quickly, hiding my still-tingling hands. "Wanna join?"
She wrinkled her nose, sniffing the air. "Mmm… I don't know. You smell all 'xoxo' today, Lexo." Then she turned and said, "I'm off to bring cookies!" and ran off.
Pietro and I exchanged a look—my "xoxo smell" again. We'd have to add that to our list of peculiar phenomena.
"Tomorrow," Pietro said, closing his yellowed notebook. "We'll do a more precise range test near the river—if they let you, of course."
I nodded. More tests were essential to understand this power fully. And with Pietro's help, maybe I could do it safely. But for now, it was snack time—and I could already see Lila's pigtails as she carried the plate Mom had prepared. "Lila, don't eat all the cookies yourself, or you'll grow plants in your stomach!"