Sparks of Growth

There’s something different about today. The wind carries a charge, and the morning sun feels just a little brighter than usual.

I’m getting better at standing. Even walking a few steps without falling now.

But what really excites me—what makes my heartbeat quicken every time I’m alone—is that I’ve started to cast faster.

I used to have to whisper the word. Fire.

Now? I just think it.

Not always… but sometimes, the flame comes anyway.

It scares me a little. Not because I’m in danger, but because it feels like the magic already knows what I want—before I even ask.

This morning, I sneak out to my usual spot again. The tall grass rustles around my knees. My hands tingle.

I focus.

My breathing slows.

My mind drifts to warmth—comfort—light.

And then…

Fwoom.

A steady flame blooms in my hand. No word spoken. Just thought.

No one told me this was possible. I’m not even sure I understand how I’m doing it. But the fire listens to me. Like it’s always been a part of me, waiting for me to notice it.

Then I hear it—again.

A twig snapping.

My gaze shoots toward the trees.

There. Movement.

But not a bird. Not an animal.

A person—no, a girl—half-hidden behind a trunk.

She’s watching me. Same as before. Same silent stare, golden eyes locked onto mine. Cat ears twitch ever so slightly above her dark hair.

I blink, and she’s gone.

When I return inside, my mother notices the soot on my hands.

She doesn’t scold me.

She just kneels and places her hand gently over mine.

“You’re growing faster than I expected,” she says. Her voice trembles just a little. “But magic isn’t just about what you can do. It’s about knowing when not to.”

Later that evening, I try again.

But this time, I’m not trying to cast.

I’m trying to listen.

The flame that used to resist me now flickers easily to life.

No words. No chanting. Just thought.

Just feeling.

It’s like… the spell is responding to me on instinct.

I don’t realize it at the time—but this is rare.

Unspoken magic.

A trait even seasoned mages envy.

And I… I’m just a toddler figuring out how to stay upright.

But even then, as the fire rests in my palm and the wind tousles my hair…

I can feel something shifting.

Something inside me—and something watching from far away.

Maybe this world is bigger than I thought.

Or maybe…

I’m just beginning to wake up.