Aaron sat cross-legged under an ancient starwood tree at the edge of House Aetherwyn's northern gardens, a scroll unfurled on his lap and his brow furrowed with determination.
"Alright," he muttered to himself. "If I can't train physically without nearly breaking the training dummies, then maybe… maybe I need to work on my mana control instead."
He glanced back at the scroll, a brittle thing with faded silver ink. He'd found it buried in the manor's old library wedged between two cookbooks. The title was underwhelming: Basic Starlight Meditation – A Beginner's Guide to Calm Focus and Gentle Mana Flow.
Perfect for someone like him. A beginner. A nobody.
"I'm not cut out for flashy spells or swordsmanship anyway," he said aloud, not noticing the way the tree behind him subtly shimmered at his touch, bark glowing faintly. "I just need to learn to not explode things when I breathe wrong."
He took a deep breath. The scroll's instructions were simple:
> Clear your mind. Draw your mana inward. Visualize the stars. Align your spirit with the celestial flow. Let it guide you.
Aaron closed his eyes.
And the world reacted.
---
Far above, in the cloud-splintered sky, the daylight dimmed—not with shadow, but as if the sun itself politely stepped aside to make room. A soft pulse of light rippled through the upper atmosphere, forming a circular pattern only visible to those with a mana-sight attuned to celestial flows.
At the Grand Observatory of the Arcane North, magical instruments trembled.
High Sage Armin blinked at the glowing globe on his desk. "What in the Twelve Spheres…?"
Another mage stumbled in. "The celestial leyline has shifted—someone's resonating with it! It's a Class Z fluctuation!"
Armin stood up so fast his stool fell over. "That's impossible. There hasn't been a Class Z alignment in over three thousand years. Trace the epicenter! Now!"
---
Back under the starwood tree, Aaron remained blissfully unaware that the entire leyline system of the continent was vibrating with him at its heart. He breathed slowly. Focused. A soft mist of silvery light rose around him, invisible to his own eyes.
He thought, vaguely, about stars. He imagined them twinkling in the distance like those stickers kids pasted on ceilings. One fell. He tried to catch it in his mind.
Then something clicked.
---
Miles away, a volcano rumbled. Entire flocks of mana-sensitive wyverns screamed and fled in erratic spirals. One royal priest in the distant temple of Luna fainted mid-sermon and muttered, "He returns… The Starborn walks once more…"
---
Aaron yawned.
"I feel nothing," he mumbled. "I'm probably doing this wrong."
---
A pair of guards stationed near the training fields had been watching from a safe distance.
"Hey," one whispered, nudging the other. "Is that… a mana vortex around him?"
The other guard squinted. "That's… not just mana. That's celestial essence. I saw something like that once when an archmage tried to ascend to the ninth circle. He exploded."
"Should we report this?"
"I already sent a raven. The Duke needs to know his son's… communing with the heavens or something."
---
Inside the manor, a flurry of activity had already begun. Servants whispered, and older mages of the household looked up from their cups with reverence and concern.
"He's preparing," said one elderly advisor. "The young heir is finally awakening his lineage."
"Do you think he plans to challenge the Headmistress of Astraeum Academy?"
"Nonsense," said another. "He's far beyond that. He's probably calling forth a Star Familiar. I heard the tree bowed to him."
"The tree did bow. I saw it."
---
But Aaron, still cross-legged, only felt a bit itchy.
"Ugh… this meditation scroll sucks," he mumbled, cracking one eye open. "Still feel average. Still can't sense my mana properly. Maybe I'll just go for a nap."
He stood, dusted his robes off, and stretched. The glow that had enveloped the garden faded instantly. The air cleared. Birds slowly returned, cautiously singing.
Aaron sighed. "I probably need a snack. That always helps me think clearer."
---
In the sky, a squadron of mages on flying beasts darted toward the location marked by the Grand Observatory's divinations. At their lead was an envoy in robes of navy and silver, holding a sealed letter from the High Council.
"Whoever performed that resonance," the envoy said grimly, "may already have reached Forbidden Tier status. Be on alert. They might not be human anymore."
---
Back in the manor kitchens, Aaron bit into a honey-drenched loaf, seated casually while chatting with a maid.
"I tried that scroll thing," he said between chews. "Didn't do much. Maybe it's just one of those meditations that take years."
The maid nodded hesitantly, clearly trying to remain composed while trembling from the residual aura she still felt lingering around him.
"Of… of course, Young Master. You are very… humble."
Aaron grinned. "Nah, just realistic. I'm not talented like the others. I'm more of a background kind of guy, you know? Anyway, is there more honey?"
---
Meanwhile, Olivia watched him from the hallway, half-hidden behind a pillar.
She'd been searching for him all morning only to find him glowing under a tree like some kind of ancient sage. And now… now he acted like nothing happened?
"He's so calm…" she murmured. "Even after invoking that kind of power… He must be hiding his pain. A tragic genius."
She clutched her training scroll tighter. "I must learn from him. Whatever path he walks… I'll follow."
---
That evening, Aaron scribbled into a journal he'd begun keeping, titled: How Not To Be A Magical Disaster.
Today I tried meditation. Probably did it wrong. Nothing happened. Still weak. Need to keep trying. Maybe starlight just isn't for me. Oh well.
He looked out the window. The stars were brighter tonight.
He assumed it was just good weather.
---
End of Chapter 18