When they arrived at the mansion, Princess Sofia gently tried to put her son to sleep. Her calm voice and tender touch offered a familiar comfort, but Kaidën remained wide awake, his mind still reeling from the events of the day.
"Come, Kaidën. Time for bed," she purred softly, guiding him to his bedroom.
"You had a lot going on today—you need to rest."
But the boy was restless. His mind buzzed with questions and uncertainty, overwhelmed by thoughts that refused to let him sleep. He agreed to lie down, but the moment his mother stepped out of the room, he slipped out into the hallway, determined to seek out more answers.
****
Duke Arin, his father, had retreated to his study. The door was slightly ajar, and the rustling of papers and a stream of curses reached Kaidën's ears. He crept closer and pushed the door open, startling his father. For a brief moment, their eyes locked, a tense silence hanging between them.
"What are you doing here, Kaidën?" Duke Arin said gruffly. "You should be in bed."
But Kaidën did not retreat. He stepped into the study, his eyes scanning the shelves filled with books and the desk cluttered with papers. He looked directly at his father and said firmly, "Tell me about mana. What is colorless mana?"
Duke Arin's stern expression softened. With a sigh, he gestured to a seat. "Sit down," he said, waving his hand over a stack of books. And so, the two of them spent hours poring over texts, diving deep into the mysteries of mana and what it meant.
****
Later that same day, Kaidën returned to the family library through a secret passage he had discovered the previous month. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment, and soft luminescent orbs glowed warmly, casting long shadows along the walls.
The library was immense—a treasure trove of ancient wisdom. Books lined towering shelves, perfectly preserved, each waiting to be rediscovered. Kaidën wandered through the stacks, his fingertips brushing over spines, trailing along embossed letters and ancient symbols. His fascination had never been greater.
He spent hours investigating the subject of mana, desperately searching for the truth behind colorless mana, a concept that had haunted his thoughts since his baptism. What was mana? Why did he possess the colorless kind? What would it mean for his future?
He moved through the aisles, flipping through book after book, the silence broken only by the creak of wooden shelves and the whisper of pages turning. Eventually, he came upon a small leather-bound book tucked into a corner of the room. Its title, etched in silver, read The Essence of Mana.
With reverence, he opened the book. The pages rustled, old and brittle, yet filled with knowledge. The book described mana as an essence born within all creatures, and in human it was dormant until awakened by baptism. Its color defined one's magical affinity.
Red mana—the most feared—possessed destructive fire magic capable of leveling cities. Those who wielded it were revered as unstoppable forces on the battlefield.
White or whitish-yellow mana channeled light, capable of dispelling evil and healing wounds. Its users were cherished as holy figures and saviors.
Dark purple lightning mana allowed its bearers to strike with the speed of thought, devastating foes with bolts of pure electricity.
Black mana, cloaked in ominous shadows, was shunned by society. It was the power of the forbidden, the feared, and the exiled.
Snow-white wind mana danced with the air, its users known for their agility and unpredictability in combat.
Blue water mana was peaceful and serene, capable of healing and calming the disturbed, with dominion over rivers, tides, and storms.
And then came colorless mana—the weakest of all. It lacked elemental affinity, only capable of casting basic spells from any school, but never mastering any. Because of this, colorless mages were viewed as low-tier, their potential deemed limited from birth.
****
As Kaidën closed the book, the luminescent orbs around him dimmed, casting the vast library in shadows. Night had fallen. He carefully placed the book back on the shelf and slipped out through the hidden passageway.
As he neared his bedroom, he heard muffled sounds coming from his parents' room. Curiosity overtook caution. He tiptoed closer and glimpsed a heartbreaking scene.
Duke Arin sat hunched over on the bed, his face buried in his hands, wracked with sobs. Princess Sofia sat beside him, gently placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, trying to soothe his anguish.
"It's my doing," Duke Arin whispered, his voice raw and pained. "I'm a lowborn. I possess no mana. I knew it was a gamble, marrying into royalty. And now… our child bears the weight of that mistake. He has no elemental affinity. It's because of me."
Kaiden stood frozen in the hallway, the pain in his father's voice piercing through him like a blade. He had never experienced this in his previous life. His father had died before he was born, and his mother had been left alone to raise him. She had been his world, his strength, until illness took her on his seventeenth birthday.
That loss had shaped him. The helplessness of watching someone he loved fade away had left a permanent scar.
But in this new life, he had been given another chance. A family. A second beginning. And seeing his father cry for him, he made a silent vow: he would not let his present define his limits. He would rise above the expectations placed upon him, no matter what it took. Even if it meant defying the very nature of the world around him.
He would carve his own path.
To be continued...