Emily never imagined the old book she had gifted Nero would bring about such remarkable changes. It had only been three weeks since he received it, yet he had transformed in ways she couldn't begin to comprehend.
"Fire..." Nero whispered.
A flame the size of a pebble danced in his palm.
Emily stumbled backward, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Young Master, how did you learn that?"
"From the book you gave me!" Nero beamed. "I never thought it would be this helpful!"
Pride flickered in Emily's chest, but it was quickly overshadowed by worry. Nero, without formal training, was wielding elemental magic. For a child his age—only nine—such talent was unheard of, especially in a family with no magical lineage.
The Edmons were ordinary. Edmon, the father, was a merchant; Lissa, a gentle housewife; Lyra, an energetic little girl. But Nero... Nero was different.
"Young Master," Emily said firmly, "you mustn't show these powers to others."
"Why not?" Nero asked, puzzled. Emily's shaken expression only deepened his curiosity.
She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "Because... great power must be used to protect, not impress. And right now, you're still learning. One mistake could frighten or hurt someone."
Nero nodded earnestly, his warm smile melting her heart—and deepening her guilt. She left his room with heavy steps, turning for one last glance through the flickering candlelight.
I hope he'll heed my words…
In the days that followed, Nero continued his quiet exploration of the book's secrets. Fire, then wind, then water. He hadn't yet mastered control—light occasionally burst from his fingertips, unsettling the household.
"What was that?" Edmon asked, catching a brief flash of light outside Nero's room. He opened a window, peering into the darkness.
"I think it's just your imagination," Lissa replied gently, stroking Lyra's hair as the little girl slept peacefully.
"You're right," Edmon said, closing the window, though unease still tugged at his thoughts.
"Tomorrow is Lyra's big day. Let's focus on that," Lissa said with a hopeful smile.
The morning sun poured through the windows, but Emily had yet to arrive.
"Where's Emily?" Nero muttered. His stomach growled, but his excitement overpowered his hunger. He had discovered how to channel ice from water, and the air in his room was now cold and crisp. The candle on his desk was frozen solid.
He was eager to show Emily.
Thud! Thud!
A noise outside drew his attention. He rushed to the window, but his short height limited his view. Standing on a bench, he tried again—only to slip and bump his head on the door frame.
"I need to get out," he whispered, placing his hand on the wooden door. With effort, he released a burst of wind magic, and the old hinges creaked open.
Lyra's fifth birthday was a grand affair. Nobles and merchants filled the estate, mingling and forging alliances. Emily, busy with preparations, felt a pang of guilt—she hadn't checked on Nero.
Be patient, Young Master. I'm coming… she thought, clutching a hidden plate of cake slices—his favorite.
Inside, the party was dazzling. Glittering chandeliers, silk gowns, and polished shoes filled the room with elegance and noise.
"Wow…" Nero stood at the entrance, eyes wide. Lights shimmered across the high ceiling. The scent of vanilla and sugar drew him toward a towering white cake adorned with fruit.
"It smells so good…"
"Who is that boy?" someone whispered.
"Why is he dressed like that?"
Children laughed. Adults stared. Nero's plain, brown clothes—torn at the sleeve—marked him as an outsider.
"Is he a beggar?"
Nero's heart sank. He could feel their disdain, their judgment. He was just a boy—but too perceptive not to understand.
Edmon and Lissa froze as they realized the source of the commotion.
"Nero…" Edmon whispered.
"Father?" Nero's voice cracked, his eyes pleading.
A child, standing al
one under the glow of noble chandeliers, yearning to belong.
__To Be Continued__