*From the perspective of Thomas Massimo, half an hour before the incident in the park.*
Today had been a rather difficult shift.
Around two in the morning, a patient was brought in.
He was quite remarkable in appearance.
Pale, aristocratic face framed by long, jet-black hair.
He wore an old-fashioned outfit, as if it had stepped out of a nineteenth-century history textbook.
High boots, an old-fashioned suit, and a cloak.
All of this would have looked comical if the clothes hadn’t been soaked in blood.
His right arm was covered in ragged wounds, as if a large predator had gnawed on it.
His face was scratched up, and a gash ran across his torso, as if he’d been cut with a very sharp blade.
He’d been brought in from the local park.
He had lost a lot of blood.
He needed emergency surgery and a blood transfusion.
Together with my assistants, I fought for his life for five hours, and we finally managed to snatch him from the jaws of death.
And of course, the troubles didn’t end there.
The paperwork had to be completed.
And that task fell to me.
After filling out the documents, everything except his name and address, I headed home with a clear conscience.
Sara and Kael were waiting for me.
After our son was born, everything started moving incredibly fast.
It seemed like just yesterday he was born, and now he was crawling so fast you couldn’t keep up with him.
He was very active, though not as much as other children his age.
Kael was the perfect child: calm, didn’t demand much attention, and never cried without reason.
Honestly, four months after his birth, we could leave him alone in his room with one hundred percent certainty that nothing would happen.
Of course, Sara and I had our share of scares.
Our son wasn’t very emotional.
We took him to doctors, afraid he had “emotional blunting syndrome,” but everything turned out fine.
Sara worried that she was to blame, but the doctors and I managed to reassure her.
My wife wasn’t at fault.
Oh, Sara.
She adored Kael.
Like a mother wolf.
My wolf.
I got home around ten in the morning.
After parking the car in the garage, I went inside.
On the kitchen counter, I noticed a note from Sara saying that she and Kael had gone for a walk in the park.
I immediately thought of today’s patient.
I had a bad feeling about this.
Just as I thought that, I heard a crack from the living room.
Turning my head, I saw Sara with Kael’s little head peeking over her shoulder.
The furniture within a two-step radius of them had been thrown back.
I stood there in shock for about five seconds, then rushed over to the people most precious to me.
“Sara, Sara!” I said, putting my hand on her shoulder.
“How did you get here?”
“Sara, what’s wrong?”
My wife was shaking violently.
Turning her toward me, I saw a grimace of fear on her face.
“Sara, what happened?”
“Tom, how did you…
we’re home?” she said, looking around her surroundings with a dazed expression.
“Stop.
Calm down.
Tell me everything from the beginning, okay?
Sit on the couch.
I’ll make you some tea, and you put Kael down for a nap.”
While I went to the kitchen and made tea, Sara calmed down, put Kael to bed, and was waiting for me on the couch, though a slight tremor still ran through her body.
As soon as I handed her a cup of tea, she began to tell her story.
With every word she said, my hair stood on end.
A pack of dogs in that very park had attacked my family, and no one had helped them.
After she finished, I was shaking myself.
How terrifying that this had happened to my family.
“And how did you get here?”
“I don’t know, Tom,” Sara answered.
“In that moment, I was praying to gods, to devils, just to protect our son.
Then I felt warmth.
Everything started spinning.
My vision blurred, there was a ringing in my ears, and the next moment I became aware of myself when you called out.”
I didn’t know what to think.
What had happened?
Was it divine intervention?
Demons?
Or was it magic?
I didn’t know.
After a while, I told Sara about my patient.
We talked a bit more and decided to ask the strange-looking man about the situation.
Maybe he could tell us something.
*
*
*
*Twelve hours after the incident in the park.
Kael’s perspective.*
It took me a long time to regain consciousness.
My mind floated between sleep and wakefulness for about half an hour. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
When I finally came to, I felt exhaustion.
Severe exhaustion and ravenous hunger.
Realizing that if I didn’t eat something right now, I wouldn’t need to eat ever again, I started crying for my parents.
Within a minute, Sara came into my room and started soothing me.
After a while, she bared her breast and began to feed me.
After eating, I pretended to be asleep, and Sara put me back in my crib and quietly left the room.
As soon as she left, I entered a meditative state.
Examining my soul, I saw changes.
First, my Second shell was depleted, but the rate of prana production had increased.
This suggested certain things that would need to be confirmed.
Second, my Seventh Principle had finished forming in my head and “brain.” And interesting processes were taking place there.
First of all, the channels had formed.
That was good.
Second, they were releasing some magic into my flesh.
What effect this would have in the future was unknown.
Also, through the channels that had formed, mana from the outside world was flowing into my core, which was helping it develop.
Third, my Fifth shell had become even more saturated.
About one quarter of its original size.
That was good.
From all of this, I developed a theory.
It was possible that in children, under emotional stress, there was a spontaneous burst of energy.
This was described as children being unable to control their magic.
Based on this, I had a theory.
Maybe this was the law of this world, or of all worlds, but the Seventh shell exists in everyone.
It gradually “grows” into the body to allow the use of mana.
And when at least one channel has formed, a burst occurs during a stressful situation.
This is an indicator of magical ability, at least in this world.
This theory is also supported, though not fully, by the Archmage universe.
There, young neophytes are first taught to absorb mana from some source.
Most likely, that mana is used to form a channel to the core, if it hasn’t already formed.
Why aren’t young wizards taught to control mana after the first burst?
Because it’s partially useless.
During growth, the channels continue to form, and because of this, the amount of mana entering the core from the external environment increases, which leads to an increase in the young wizard’s own power.
And children won’t learn to control mana over and over again.
They’re too restless.
If such an individual were to appear, they would be able to direct mana toward further development with much greater efficiency.
But since I had nothing else to do, I set about putting this theory into practice.
But all of this was just a theory, built on conjecture.
I hoped that in the future I would find confirmation or refutation of my theory.
In the end, everything happens for the best, doesn’t it?