Spring

Smack!

"Hahaha, you're it, Adele!"

Fram’s cheerful slap jolted me back to reality. He leaped from the tree branch, landing with a soft thud before bolting into the woods.

"Hey! Wait up, you rascal!" I shot after him, a grin spreading across my face.

Catching him was almost too easy. Another solid smack, a playful payback. "Got you!"

"Eek!" Fram spun around, panting, a look of genuine awe on his face. "You're amazing, Adele! No one in Ercangaud is faster than you!"

He meant it as a compliment, but a strange flicker of annoyance sparked within me. It was another reminder that I was… different. I gave his arm a sharp pinch.

"Ow! What was that for?!"

"I don't know," I mumbled, turning away.

"Kids! Time to go!" Fram’s mother called from the edge of the clearing. He gave me a quick, forgiving wave—the pinch already forgotten—and ran to join her.

Left alone, I decided to head home myself. The offering ceremony would be starting soon, and I was supposed to join Dad, Mom, and Fleda.

"I'm home!"

"Welcome back, dear," Mom greeted me from the living room. "Did you have fun?"

I nodded, glancing around. Dad and Fleda were already gone.

"Go wash up, your face is covered in dust. After that, meet us at the Great Tree."

After a quick splash of water, I felt refreshed and hurried out. The entire village was gathered before the Great Tree, its ancient branches looming over us. The elders were chanting.

"O wise ancestors, accept our humble offering. Bless us with a bountiful harvest…"

I stood silently beside my family, my eyes on the so-called sacred tree. It just looked like an old tree to me. They said a guardian spirit lived within it, the spirit of our ancestors, but the swirling energy I could faintly perceive felt far too abstract, too alien, to be my great-great-grandfather.

As soon as the ceremony ended, I slipped away, my mind already on another prize: Dad’s bookshelf. It was filled with dusty secrets, and I was determined to uncover one.

The door to my parents' room creaked, a sound I hated. The room smelled of aged wood and Dad’s faint, comforting scent. My eyes went straight to the top shelf, where the books I hadn't yet conquered resided. The lower shelves were full of romance novels and dense philosophy—hardly interesting.

After dragging a heavy chair over, I climbed up, my fingers tracing the worn spines. Crop Rotation of the Nix Tribe. Boring. The Tale of the Eight-Year War. Interesting, but not for today. And then… Fundamentals of Mana and Law.

My breath caught. Perfect.

I snatched the book, tidied the room so no one would notice my literary theft, and retreated to the sanctuary of my own bedroom, locking the door behind me.

The book was ancient, smelling of dust and dried ink. I sneezed as I cracked it open, the scent reminding me so much of Dad—simple, yet captivating. My eyes devoured the first few pages.

‘…Mana is the result of the cycle of life produced by nature. As long as there is life, mana will never run out…'

A thrill shot through me. The book described mana not as some unknowable substance, but as the very law of nature itself.

‘…Researchers have concluded that mana is the force that can create natural phenomena: storms, earthquakes, lightning…'

My mind raced. If mana was just a law, could someone with enough skill learn to rewrite it? Could I, one day, conjure a storm with a snap of my fingers? A giddy laugh escaped me.

‘…Mana is elemental… commonly categorized into seven types: fire, air, water, earth, light, lightning, and space…'

The book then spoke of ‘Law,’ the manipulation of mana through incantations, often in the Ancient Zea tongue. Dad had mentioned this before, but seeing it laid out, a system, a science… it was intoxicating. I could already perceive the faint particles of mana drifting around me, something Dad had once claimed was special. Maybe he wasn't just being a doting father.

My heart pounded with a new, wild determination. I had to try.

I rose from my bed, facing my cherished teddy bear across the room. Following the book's instructions, I focused, drawing the ambient mana into my palm. A deep breath steadied me as I recited a basic-tier script from the book.

"Adolebitque!"

Nothing.

Heat rose to my cheeks. I tried again, my voice a harsh whisper. "Et percutiamus!"

Still nothing. Embarrassment warred with curiosity. One last try. I raised my hand toward the unsuspecting plush toy.

"Exíbunt Aquae!"

A blinding light exploded from my palm. Before I could process it, a high-pressure jet of water erupted from the light. Cold! was the only thought that registered before instinct took over. I tried to sever the flow, but it was too late—

CRASH!

The recoil flung me backward, my head hitting the mattress as the water cannon obliterated my teddy bear. Stuffing and porcelain shards rained down. Water cascaded everywhere, turning my cozy room into a flooded grotto.

"Oww…"

The door burst open. "Adele! What happened?! Are you hurt!?" Dad’s panicked voice cut through the dripping chaos.

Before I could answer, Mom was there, wrapping me in a trembling embrace. "Sweetheart! Your head! Does it hurt? What did you do…?" Her tear-filled eyes scanned me for injuries while Dad took in the devastation. His gaze froze on the soggy, open book by my bed. My evidence. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable scolding.

Instead, warm fingers gently tousled my hair. "Our clever girl," Dad murmured, his voice soft with something that sounded like… pride. "Next time you wish to practice, just ask for my help. Let's avoid repeating today's… enthusiasm, shall we?"

The unexpected praise left me speechless. I buried my face in Mom’s dress, hot tears of relief and shame soaking the fabric. The exhaustion from the ordeal finally caught up to me, and I drifted to sleep in her arms, wishing this feeling of safety could last forever.

***

The next thing I knew, I woke up to the comforting scent of cedar. I was in my parents’ bed. Sunlight streamed through the window, and my body, though sore, felt strangely energized.

"Sis's awake!" Fleda, my sixteen-years younger sister, chirped as she entered, carefully balancing a steaming bowl. "Mom made pram! I saved some for you!"

"You're the best," I murmured, pulling her into a hug.

Between spoonfuls of the sweet porridge, Fleda recounted an epic tale of chasing a giant rat out of the barley fields. Her cheerful chatter was the perfect antidote to my lingering anxiety. Soon after, Mom came in.

"Feeling better, sweetheart?" She brushed my forehead. "Good. Your father wants to talk to you on the porch."

My stomach plummeted. The reprieve was over.

Fleda followed me out to the veranda, where Dad sat beneath the ancient oak, a silhouette in the morning mist.

"About yesterday…" he began, his voice serious.

I gulped. "Yes, Dad…?"

A sudden chuckle escaped him. "Relax, Adele. I'm not angry. But… it's time you knew the truth."

"The truth? Am I dying? Like in your romance novels?" I joked weakly.

Dad's eyes twinkled. "So it was you sneaking into my study! No, not that. Have you ever wondered… why you’re the only one in Ercangaud with silver hair?"

The question I had secretly asked myself a thousand times hung in the air between us. My playful mask faltered.

"Adele…" he said, his voice gentle but firm. "You are not our biological child."

The world tilted. A part of me had always known, hadn't it? The lingering stares from villagers, my parents’ evasive answers. But hearing the words spoken aloud was like the ground vanishing beneath my feet.

Dad explained how he had found me as a baby, swaddled in ferns under a full moon. But it wasn't a story of abandoned royalty. The truth was stranger.

"You are a high elf, Adele," he said, his gaze intense. "A race from legends, rarely seen anywhere. Your silver hair is the mark of it. What happened yesterday wasn't an accident."

High elf? My mind reeled, a giddy, hysterical laugh bubbling in my chest. So I'm that unique. Not just a little special, but fundamentally, powerfully unique.

"Starting tomorrow," Dad continued, his voice steadying me, "your training begins. We'll teach you to control your mana. Properly this time." His eyes shifted to where Fleda was poorly hiding behind a hydrangea bush. "You can join too, little sprout."

"Yay! Lessons with Sis!" Fleda cheered, abandoning her hiding spot.

Mom appeared from the kitchen, wiping flour from her hands. "I thought you were going to scold her," she teased Dad.

"How could I stay mad at this face?" He pinched my cheek affectionately. "But no more unsupervised law training, understood?"

The day I had dreaded had transformed into one of the most wonderful day of my life. As Fleda chattered excitedly about what her power would look like, I stared down at my hands. These ordinary-looking palms held extraordinary power. And tomorrow, my real life would finally begin.

***