By the third month of his magical awakening, Sharath began crawling—but not toward toys. He aimed for the east wing of House Darsha, where the old arcane library slumbered behind enchanted doors and passive wards.
To most, it was off-limits.
To Sharath, it was source code.
He'd memorized the patrol times of the guards. He understood which wards responded to sound and which to touch. Slipping inside one foggy dawn, he reached a dusty scroll shelf, knocking over a wooden rattle in the process.
The moment the rattle touched a scroll, the parchment glowed faintly. An alarm? A ward trigger?
No. It responded like a queried data object.
"Did he just ping a seal?" asked a wide-eyed scholar.
"He queried it," Lady Ishvari corrected softly, half-smiling, half-terrified.
Soon, the child began mentally composing pseudo-magical code. It wasn't spellcraft yet—but it was close.His internal monologue went something like:
eldora
Copy
EditFunction ignite_candle(): if (environment == dark): speak "Velkyr Aelun"
He imagined logical trees for different spells—environment-based checks, will-based parameters, focus-based intensity. His mind became a living IDE for arcane logic, constructing code before his tiny fingers could fully write.
The estate watched in stunned awe.
No infant had ever compiled intent-driven spells before learning to walk.