After spending the better part of the afternoon sealed away in his room, buried beneath tomes on Transmutation and sketching gods-know-what on scrap parchment, Lucian finally emerged just before sunset.
The town of Drea, wrapped in the warm hues of golden hour, bustled with life as if it hadn't noticed the time. Lanterns were being lit along rooftops. Children ran barefoot down white-washed streets. The scent of fried herbs and sweet pastries hung in the air like a song.
Lucian walked calmly, his cloak brushing the stone beneath his feet, the hood lowered. He kept his head down, but it didn't help much.
"That's him!"
"Lucian, right? The caravan ghost?"
"Come to our house for dinner! My daughter's single!"
He smiled politely, declining invitation after invitation with short bows and even shorter excuses. Still, the attention warmed something quiet inside him — not pride, but something softer. Recognition. Acceptance.
Eventually, after questioning a few fruit vendors and getting pointed in three different directions, he found himself at a modest wooden home nestled on the edge of the south district. Vines curled along the fence. A hanging charm above the door danced in the breeze.
Lucian knocked once.
The door creaked open.
Erza.
Her hair was an utter mess — soft brown curls sticking out in several directions like she'd just wrestled a wind spirit. Her eyes were wide. Wood shavings clung to the sleeves of her tunic, and her cheeks flushed the instant she saw him.
She stared.
Then promptly slammed the door.
Lucian blinked.
A few seconds passed. The door opened again, this time revealing an older woman in a flour-dusted apron, her smile warm and knowing.
"You must be Lucian," she said, eyes sparkling. "We've heard about you. Please, come in!"
Lucian dipped his head. "Thank you, ma'am, but… actually, I was hoping Erza might show me around town."
The woman raised a brow. "Erzaaaa~!"
Fifteen awkward minutes later, Erza reappeared — hair brushed, tunic traded for a clean, simple dress, and the faintest attempt at eyeliner that she clearly regretted. She avoided his gaze the entire time, cheeks still red.
Lucian offered a half-smile. "I needed a guide… and you're the only one who came to mind."
She nodded once. Still didn't look him in the eyes.
Well, that wasn't entirely true — Black probably would've been a reliable tour guide. That white-furred menace definitely knew more than it let on.
Still, Erza was better company.
The sun sank further behind the hills as they walked. The evening air was cool, fresh with the scent of river winds and flower-laced candles burning in windows.
They stopped at an apothecary where Lucian picked up pain relief potions and sleeping sedatives.
"For research," he said with a completely straight face.
Erza squinted. "You're definitely about to do something stupid."
"Not yet," he replied.
At a row of food stalls, she made him try something bright red and suspiciously sticky.
It nearly killed him.
His whole body jerked like lightning hit his tongue, and for several seconds he could only cough and flail at the nearest water jug. Erza laughed so hard she snorted. And once Lucian's lungs stopped trying to betray him, he laughed too.
They passed lantern-lit paths, browsed through trinkets, and finally made their way to a quiet lake at the edge of the town. Petals drifted lazily across the surface, and frogs sang in the distance like they were rehearsing for a play.
Under the shade of an old tree, they sat in silence. Just the water. The sky. The moment.
Lucian leaned back on his palms. "You know," he began, voice lower now, "I didn't really have friends back home."
Erza turned toward him, brow furrowed. "What? Why not?"
He shrugged slowly. "Complicated place. Complicated people. Everyone always wanted something. Or expected something."
A pause.
He didn't say more. He didn't have to.
Erza looked down at her hands. "Most people around here think I'm… weird," she said quietly. "Or too pretty to be left alone. I've had older men corner me in alleys just to try and 'offer me help' with my carvings. One time, someone tried to rape me."
Lucian turned sharply toward her, jaw tight. "You're kidding."
She shook her head. "I stopped going out much after that. Got used to being alone. Safer that way. Simpler."
Lucian was silent.
Then he smiled — not the cheeky grin, not the smirk. Just something soft. Earnest.
"You're my friend, Erza. My first real one."
She blinked.
A tear welled at the edge of her eye — one she tried to wipe away before it fell. "I'm glad," she whispered. "I'm glad we met, Lucian. You're… different. You look at me like I'm a person. Not… with lust."
There was a flicker in her gaze.
Lucian noticed it immediately. A glow. Barely there, but unmistakable.
Faint mana.
She flinched slightly, but he only smiled. "It's faint," he murmured. "But it's there."
"W-what is?"
"Mana. You've got it in you."
Erza stared at him like he'd just handed her a crown.
Lucian stood and offered a hand. "Come on. I'll walk you home."
She took it.
And as they walked beneath the stars, side by side, the breeze trailing their laughter and shared silence, something invisible began to take root between them — a bond.
A real one.
The kind you carry forward into every chapter after.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He returned to the crooked red house just past midnight. The streets were quieter now — only the wind and distant tavern songs remained.
Inside, it was still.
Black sat on the windowsill like a sentry, flicking his tail once in greeting. The statue owl remained frozen in judgment near the door, as always. Lucian gave it a nod and stepped into his room.
Parchment covered the floor like fallen leaves — all from the research binge earlier that day. Circles. Equations. Failed sketches. Theories. Questions without answers.
Lucian sifted through the mess and selected three pages, spreading them across his desk with precise care.
The first:
The internal mana pathways of Acies, sketched as he saw them — elegant, flawless, a design meant for magic itself.
The second:
A copy of his own pathways, still rough, still mortal. But full of potential.
And the third:
A page marked with fresh ink and bold runes.
Spell Title: Internal Pathway Mutation
School: Invocation / Transmutation (Hybrid)
Tier: Unranked
Description: A spell designed to reshape one's own mana pathways, aligning them closer to an ideal form — to something better.
Warning: extreme risk of neural damage, mana collapse, or death. Caster must maintain perfect mental focus.
Casting requirements: high pain threshold, sedatives recommended.
Lucian stared at it. Read it twice. Then again.
This is crazy.
His fingers trembled slightly — not from fear, but from something worse:
Excitement.
"Three things make up a spell," he muttered to himself, recalling a page in Magic Theorems. "Mana. The formula. And will."
He had all three.
Lucian took a slow breath.
Then reached for the sedatives.