The next day, Sylvia and Brenor called me for dinner earlier than usual. Just by the tone of their voices, I felt that it would not be an ordinary "Aria, come eat". Something hung in the air—the kind of silence I had known from a previous life. Silence before the conversation that matters.

  I sat down at the table, barely reaching the floor with my feet. Sylvia handed me the plate, smiling as always, but her gaze was always wandering towards Brenor. He, in turn, ate slower than usual, as if he were counting every bite.

  When we were done, Brenor pulled back his chair and looked at me seriously.

  "Aria," he began. "I want to ask you something.

  I raised my head.

  I nodded.

  "Is it... Would you like a waterbending teacher?

  The question was simple. Too simple.

  And yet it hit me harder than I expected.

  For the past few months, I've felt it clearly — as if I've reached a wall. Ball of water, temperature change, minimal movement. Whatever I tried to do next was falling apart or getting out of control. The book I got was no longer enough.

  So the answer was obvious.

  "Yes," I said after a moment, without hesitating for a second.

  Brenor and Sylvia exchanged glances. There was no surprise in it. Rather... relief.

  For the next few days, no one brought up the topic of magic anymore. No questions, no promises. Life went on as normal—the mornings, Brenor's exercises, Sylvia's books, my own rehearsals at the waterfall.

  Until one day someone knocked on the door.

  It was something rare. Too rare.

  Brenor stood up first. I followed him, curiosity pulling me like a rope. When he opened the door, I saw her.

  A young woman. Maybe even younger than Sylvia.

  Her gray hair fell over her shoulders, and from under the brim of her hat—not an ordinary hat, but a real witch's hat, wide, slightly tilted—calm blue eyes looked out.

  She didn't look threatening.

  She looked... competently.

  She stood with her bag slung over her shoulder, as if she had come for an ordinary visit, and not to a house on the edge of the forest.

  At that moment, Sylvia joined us. When she saw her, she smiled widely.

  "It's good that you're here," she said warmly, and then looked at me. "Aria... From now on, she will be your teacher.

  The woman knelt in front of me without hesitation.

  She was at my eye level.

  "My name is Lysera," she said in a calm, soft voice. "I'm a waterbender.

  She put her hand on my head.

  There was nothing intrusive about it — rather a checking gesture, as if... she listened.

  "You're a really special child," she added after a moment.

  I didn't know at the time if she was saying it out of courtesy.

  Is it because she saw something.

  And it was at that moment that I understood one thing.

  My world has just taken another step forward.

  The next day, Lysera took me to a field near the house.

  There was nothing special — ordinary grass, gently waving in the wind, a few stones and a view of the forest line. But I immediately felt that this place was chosen on purpose. Far from the walls, far from the gaze.

  "It's best here," she said, looking around carefully. "Magic likes space.

  I sat down on the grass and she stood in front of me, leaning her cane on her shoulder.

  "Before we start practicing," she began, "you need to understand what magic really is in this world.

  She looked up at the sky, as if making sure no one was eavesdropping on us.

  "The world is ruled by thirteen ancient dragons. They are not gods... but they are the closest to what you could call that.

  I shut my mouth.

  I listened.

  "Each of them represents one type of magic. They are considered absolute masters of the field they master. The most powerful magic users in history.

  She began to list them calmly, one by one, and I put everything together in my head like a well-known RPG system—only this time it was real.

  Water Dragon.

  Fire Dragon.

  Earth Dragon.

  Wind Dragon.

  Holiness and Darkness.

  Healing and Illusion.

  Mind and Strength.

  Space.

  And at the very end...

  "The dragon of the Apocalypse," she said more quietly. "The magic of destruction.

  I felt a strange shiver.

  "There are thirteen types of magic that exist in the world," she added. "And every magician is born with a natural talent for one... sometimes two. The rest is practically unattainable.

  She was silent for a moment, then changed her tone.

  "In addition to types, there are also levels of advancement.

  She began to draw with her finger in the air, as if she were creating invisible steps.

  "Beginners.

  "Experienced."

  "Advanced."

  "Royal."

  "Imperial."

  "Dragon."

  "And... God.

  I raised my eyebrows.

  "The highest level that a race of humans has ever reached was the Royal level," she said calmly. "In the entire world, not counting dragons, only seven beings in history have reached the Imperial level.

  This... explained a lot.

  "There are several ways to cast magic," she continued. "Full incantation. Shortened incantation. Magic circles.

  She hesitated for a moment.

  "There are also legends about someone who could cast spells without words... quietly. But these are just rumors. Fairy tales for children.

  I didn't comment.

  There was no need.

  Lysera looked at me carefully, as if she were weighing the next words.

  "Sylvia told me about your progress," she said finally. "About what you can already do.

  She smiled slightly.

  "Aria... On average, learning magic begins at the age of twelve. You have five.

  She was silent for a moment.

  "Which makes you the youngest mage on this continent.

  My heart beat faster.

  "And that's why," she added, raising her hand, from which a calm, perfectly stable ball of water began to form, " we must learn carefully.

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  She looked me straight in the eyes.

  "We'll start with the basics. But not the ones from the books.

  "You may have awakened the water," Lysera said calmly, "but there are clear boundaries for all races of elves.

  She crouched in front of me so that we were on the same level.

  "An ordinary elf can awaken two, sometimes three, types of magic. That's the maximum. Not counting dragons... and the old high elves.

  My heart beat harder.

  "Sylvia told me you were an ordinary elf," she added. "That's why we have to start very carefully. First, we will check your limits.

  She straightened up and began to translate, slowly, clearly, as if she knew I would remember every word.

  "We humans can only use six types of magic: water, fire, earth, wind, sacredness, and black magic. That's all.

  She raised her finger.

  "Elves have a much wider scope.

  She started listing, and I involuntarily counted in my mind.

  Water.

  Fire.

  Earth.

  Wind.

  Holiness.

  Black magic.

  Detoxification.

  Illusion.

  Mental.

  Telekinesis.

  Empowerment magic.

  "The only two types you shouldn't be able to use are destruction and teleportation magic," she said firmly.

  She paused for a moment, watching me closely.

  "That is why everything we do must be controlled.

  I nodded, though I knew I would still do more than I should.

  Lysera raised her hand.

  "I see you started with the basics," she said.

  She said the word softly, and a perfectly formed ball of water immediately appeared above her hand. Not a single drop moved.

  "You're trying to turn water into ice," she continued, "but you're doing it too soon."

  I watched as the water in her hand began to change. She didn't freeze right away. First, she sped up. She flinched. It thickened.

  "Before you freeze water, you need to learn full acceleration," she said.

  The sphere suddenly lengthened, turning into a sharp, transparent skewer of ice.

  I froze.

  "The magic has to stay in the ice structure," she explained. "If you freeze the water too slowly, you lose control of it. The longer the process lasts, the weaker the connection to magic.

  She looked at me carefully.

  "That's why your water is slipping out of your hands."

  I was fascinated.

  "I'll teach you that," she added after a while. "But not today.

  She smiled slightly.

  "First you have to learn to feel when magic accelerates..." and when it starts to fall apart.

  Three years have passed.

  The very thought of it seemed unreal to me, and yet I was already seven years old. My body has finally gotten used to the new world. To movement, to pain, to fatigue... And to the magic.

  Lysera taught me more than anyone could have imagined. Not just spells, but control, patience and when not to use magic. Thanks to her, I became the youngest magician on the continent to reach an experienced level.

  No one knew about it.

  Except for Sylvia.

  Except for Brenor.

  Except for Lysera.

  And it was supposed to stay that way.

  Today was a special day. I was seven years old, and it was an important moment in this world. Adulthood was not reached until the age of fourteen, so the seventh birthday was treated almost as half of the road to adulthood.

  Sylvia was the first to give me the gift.

  It was a new book. At first glance, I knew that she was different. The leather on the cover was soft, the runes were embossed precisely, and the paper... old. Very old.

  "It's a copy of a book written by an advanced waterbender," she said quietly. "The most expensive thing we ever bought.

  I felt something strange in my throat.

  Brenor came over immediately afterwards and without saying a word placed his dagger in front of me. Simple, solid, perfectly balanced.

  "You won't always be able to rely on magic," he said briefly. "It's just in case.

  In the end, there was Lysera.

  She handed me clothes. A real wizard's robes — lightweight, comfortable, woven so that they don't interfere with the flow of mana.

  "This is my last gift," she said calmly. "And the last lesson.

  I looked at her in surprise.

  "I taught you everything I could," she added. "You must go on alone." Tomorrow I'm leaving.

  My heart sank.

  I was sad. Really sad. But I knew I couldn't stop her. It wasn't her way — it was just a part of mine.

  The next day I escorted her to the front of the house. I stood barefoot on the ground, watching him mount his horse.

  "Don't rush to grow up, Aria," she said before driving away. "This world will demand too much of you anyway.

  I watched it disappear into the distance until the silhouette dissolved on the horizon.

  And then I understood one thing.

  That was the end of my childhood.

  And the beginning of something much bigger.

  After saying goodbye to Lysera, Brenor suggested that I go with him to the city.

  "You're big enough now," he said calmly. "It's time to see the world of people.

  I agreed without hesitation.

  I was excited. It was supposed to be my first time in the city of this world. I could barely sit still all the way, and when we finally crossed the gates... I froze.

  The city looked like it had been taken alive from medieval illustrations. Stone buildings, narrow streets, stalls, the smell of bread, sweat and smoke. People were everywhere. Crowds. More than I have seen in my entire new life.

  "Today only for bread," said Brenor. "Stay close.

  I nodded and didn't speak. I absorbed everything with my eyes.

  And then the crowd thickened.

  Someone pushed me. Someone else passed between me and Brenor. I tried to call him, but the noise swallowed up my voice.

  He disappeared.

  My heart started beating like crazy.

  I looked around in panic — and then I saw a familiar silhouette in a side street, dark street. The stature was similar. Shoulders wide. The coat is the same.

  "Brenor...?" I whispered and ran.

  It wasn't him.

  Before I could stop, someone jumped out of the corner. Something rough covered my face. A bag. I started to, but I was too weak.

  The blow came from behind.

  The world went out.

  I woke up on the cold ground.

  For a moment, I didn't understand where I was. Then I smelled the smell — dampness, metal, fear. I was in a cell. Iron bars. Stone walls.

  I was not alone.

  There were several children sitting next to me. Beastmen. Small ears, tails, frightened eyes. They were shaking. Some were crying quietly, others were just staring into the void.

  A guard stood in front of the bars.

  "Let me go!" I shouted.

  He turned slowly.

  "Shut up," he growled.

  My heart was pounding in my chest. I screamed louder. I called Brenor. I called Sylvia. I called anyone.

  The guard opened the grate.

  "I told you to shut up.

  He walked up to me, grabbed me brutally and pinned me to the wall. The stone hit me in the back. I was out of breath.

  He raised his hand.

  I knew that if he hit me... I may not survive.

  The tears flowed by themselves.

  I didn't scream.

  I didn't use incantation.

  Quietly, almost silently, I whispered one word:

  "Die."

  Something broke.

  The guard's head exploded.

  Blood and brain splashed on the walls. The body slumped to the ground like an empty sack.

  I froze.

  I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I looked at my hands, trembling, strange.

  What did I do...?

  The children of the beastmen began to run away, running past me, but I stood still. Paralyzed.

  I was afraid.

  Not the world.

  I was afraid of myself.

  Suddenly, I was back to normal.

  I don't know how long I stood still, but at some point my body started listening to me again. My heart was pounding like crazy. Noise filled the air—screams, running footsteps, metal hitting a stone.

  Watchmen.

  I turned around and ran.

  I saw a stir behind me. Some guards stopped at half-step, horrified by the sight of a splattered brain on the walls. Others rushed in, screaming, trying to make sense of what had happened. Some vomited. Others just stood as if paralyzed.

  I didn't look back anymore.

  I ran blindly, my legs carrying me by themselves. The corridors were narrow, damp, full of curves. Finally, I saw what looked like an old basement—a rotten staircase leading up.

  I got out through it.

  It was a house. Old, abandoned, standing on the edge of the forest. The basement was connected to the prison. A secret passage. I didn't know who built it or why, but I wasn't going to think about it.

  I ran away.

  I ran for a long time. Too long for a seven-year-old body. The branches hurt my skin, the roots tangled under my feet, my lungs burned. I finally collapsed, too tired to get up.

  I lay on the ground, looking up at the sky between the treetops.

  Only then did I start thinking.

  What really happened...?

  The memory came back on its own.

  Lysera.

  Her voice, calm, matter-of-fact.

  The magic of destruction is not ordinary magic.

  You don't create an element.

  You don't shape energy.

  You tell reality what is going to happen.

  And she decides whether to listen to you.

  I understood.

  It wasn't a spell.

  It was an order.

  I said "die".

  And the world submitted.

  I remembered the guard's face. His scream, which did not have time to be heard. The warmth of the blood. The sound of a skull cracking.

  And then... Something inside me trembled.

  Not disgust.

  Not fear.

  Something worse.

  I realized that... I liked it.

  This absolute power. That moment when one word was enough to end someone's life.

  I felt sick.

  I stood up shakily and moved forward—in the opposite direction from the old hut. I didn't know where I was. I didn't know where to go.

  Sylvia and Brenor never told me the name of the place where we live. They always just said "home".

  For the first time in this world, I was really alone.

  First, I need to find out one thing.

  How many days was I unconscious...?

  As I walked through the forest, she was getting hungrier and hungrier, I remembered one more message from Lysera.

  Her voice came back clearly, too much.

  Destruction magic cannot be used by regular races.

  Only high elves and dragons.

  I stopped.

  If this is true...

  It meant only one thing.

  I'm a high elf.

  This thought did not give me peace. The high elves are extinct. That's what they said. That is what was taught. One hundred and fifty-nine years ago, at the very beginning of the Age of the End, when the Age of the Great Wars ended. The last of them were to perish with the fall of the old kingdoms and the disappearance of the gods from this world.

  And yet... I am alive.

  Why?

  How?

  Who gave birth to me... And why was I kicked out?

  The more I thought about it, the more anxiety grew in me. This was no ordinary revival. Something was very, very wrong here.

  I kept walking, forcing my legs to move. The hours passed slowly. The forest was thinning, the trees were becoming sparser, until I finally saw them.

  Walls.

  Huge. Stone. Rising high above the tree line. Several times larger than the ones I saw in the city with Brenor. Watchtowers, pennants fluttering in the wind, massive gates capable of stopping an army.

  The city.

  A real city.

  I stood at the edge of the forest, looking at them from a distance. Small, tired, dirty — and at the same time carrying something inside her that shouldn't exist.

  I didn't know yet that crossing these walls would change everything.

  But even then I felt that this place...

  will be the beginning of something much bigger.

  I truly appreciate every reader who decided to give this story a chance.

  five chapters will be released every 24 hours.

  After Chapter 5, new chapters will be published once a week, every Sunday at 6:00 PM.

  See you in the next chapter.