My self-study sessions in front of the bookshelf grow more intense. The process is maddening. My adult mind knows how to learn, how to link symbols and sounds, but my baby brain—and my complete lack of formal exposure to written language—turn it into pure agony. I'm staring at a particularly complex diagram in one of Mom's tomes—something about mana circuits? Or maybe Light weaving patterns?—with a concentration so fierce it probably makes me look like a constipated baby. I'm trying to overlay the words I've heard onto the symbols I see, searching for patterns... and then, suddenly—BEEP!
A new gray screen flickers into view, completely different from the usual status screen.
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[Skill Unlocked!]
Due to continuous effort and persistent willpower to acquire knowledge under suboptimal conditions, you have awakened the skill:
[Fast Learner (Passive)] - Level 1
Effect: Significantly increases the speed of assimilating new information and memory retention. Slightly accelerates the development of knowledge-related skills.
Accept and activate skill? [YES] / [NO]
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Whoa! A passive learning skill? This is pure gold for my situation! In my past life, I spent endless nights studying unproductively; a skill like this would have been a dream come true. Without a second's hesitation, I focus on the "[YES]". There's a kind of… mental click. A very subtle sensation, as if a switch just flipped in my brain. No fireworks, but when I look back at the diagram... it seems a little less intimidating. The shapes of the runes, the connecting lines—it's like my brain is processing the info a bit faster, finding patterns that used to slip past me. A x2 speed boost to learning sounds amazing!
With my new skill humming quietly in the background, my progress with the books leaps noticeably. What used to take days of staring at a page to decipher a handful of words now flows much more smoothly. I begin to devour (metaphorically, of course—though a few corners still suffer) the simpler texts: children's books that Mom must have saved, some basic bestiaries with pictures, and, crucially, an atlas along with a simplified history book of the continent.
That's where the pieces of the world start to fall into place. We live in Quintus—the Fifth Kingdom—situated on the southwestern coast, caressed by the Great Ocean. The book describes it as a kingdom not particularly rich in natural resources compared to others, but here's the interesting part: it's universally recognized as the greatest magical-military power.
In the center of Quintus stands the World Academy of Mages—where Mom studied—and right there lies the kingdom's capital, a massive medieval fortress sprawling for miles. This would explain its reputation, the presence of my General uncle, and why Dad was called to the border—presumably the northern mountain range. This place seems to be the world's shield, thanks to idyllic natural conditions that allow for a greater mana flow.
Meanwhile, as my mind absorbs new information at an accelerated pace, my body keeps doing its thing too. I turn eight months old. Walking isn't a wobbly novelty anymore—it's become my main mode of transportation around the house. I can even manage clumsy little runs, though they often end with a soft landing on my padded diaper.
My core holds steady at that potent 80%. The Fast Learner skill doesn't seem to affect it directly, but the mental clarity it provides does let me be more aware of that internal energy while I'm doing other things.
I can stay awake longer now, which gives me more time for "research" and interacting with the world. My "Mama!" now sounds much clearer—clear enough that she responds with full sentences, as if we're really having a conversation.
We play more often now, hiding behind furniture, and when she catches me it turns into full-on tickle-torture. She also tries to teach me how to stack blocks (which I enjoy knocking down even more). I feel our connection deepening, and her smile seems less tinged with worry about Dad—now that she has good news and me as a more active (and talkative) distraction.
And then, one day, as if to cap it all, Mom surprises me. "My dear Lexo… today Mama is going to teach you magic," she says suddenly. I look at her, astonished. I haven't even awakened my own magic yet—it should be impossible for me… what is she planning?
With a serious expression, while we sit in our lush backyard, she produces two small, withered seeds from her hand. First, she places one in my chubby palm, then uses her delicate fingers to dig a couple of tiny holes in the earth. She meets my eyes, and her hand begins to glow—that light is healing, I'm sure, though now it has a slightly bluish hue that matches her eyes.
"Everything around us has life—not just you, not just me, not just the trees or this grass. Mana is an energy that pulses and lives just like us. My own father used to say that a great flower garden makes people's souls more beautiful, and if we are beautiful, our mana will be too." She smiles shyly. "I don't know if that's exactly true, especially now with your father's friends leaving us barely any healthy crops… but that's not the point."
She opens her hand, and the seed inside is now larger, with a tiny sprout peeking out. Then, gently, she places it in the hole she's dug, planting it—ready to grow.
Without thinking too much, I decide to imitate Mom. There isn't a light as strong as hers, and it doesn't shine quite as brilliantly, but I feel a faint pulse—a connection with this little plant. And then, suddenly, pressure in my palm forces it open. In the center, a sprout emerges, multicolored with a very pale blue tint. I feel an almost imperceptible gratitude, as if nature itself accepted my whim and the voice of the world allowed it.
Then, wordless, with that familiar serious look that means she wants me to remember something important, she points to another patch of freshly dug earth with her index finger. So I proceed to plant the other seed, gently covering the minuscule seedling.
"Never forget this feeling, Lexo. We don't wield magic—magic chooses us and lets us use it. No matter what happens, always trust what your own heart tells you. That is the key to existence itself."