The forest was too quiet.

  Paley sat cross-legged on a moss-covered root, deep within the treeline but far from the Mana Zone. He was waiting. He was waiting for the hunger to return, for the voice that demanded he rip and tear to speak up again.

  But there was only silence.

  Inside him, his mana was a calm, deep ocean. He didn't feel tired. Nor did he feel sore. He felt like a weapon that had finally been oiled and sharpened. And he hated it.

  He looked at his hands. They looked like the hands of a twelve-year old boy. But he knew what they had done. He knew what they were capable of.

  Who was I? He'd been avoiding it desperately, but the question circled in his mind like a vulture. Was I a monster? A half-monster? Or did I become one?

  He squeezed his eyes shut. He was keeping the door to his memories closed, terrified that if he opened it, the boy named Paley - the one who cooked warm stew for his family, who built beds with his brother, who protected the chaos of his siblings - would just cease to exist. Was he suppressing the truth to protect them, or was he just a coward hiding from his nature?

  "It doesn't matter," he whispered to the trees. "They like who I am now."

  But the doubt lingered. It felt like a lie. A comfortable, warm lie that Madella had wrapped around him like a blanket with her words: 'You are my son'

  Abruptly, he stood up, unable to sit with his thoughts any longer. Ruminating wouldn't fix anything. Thinking wouldn't pay the school fees. And staring at his hands wouldn't keep his family safe when the next threat came.

  He needed a solution.

  The Gouon Library. Paley stood at the bottom of the spiraling staircase, his gaze fixed on the landing of the third floor.

  The rope barrier looked so flimsy. The librarian was distracted, sorting returns. He could use Illusion Magic. He could cloak himself, slip past the barrier, and find the books on Runecrafting. He needed to know how to store spells in stone. He needed to arm the others for the times when he wasn't there - or, a dark thought in the back of his mind: for the times that he was the danger they needed protection from.

  His foot twitched, ready to take the first step.

  The image of the wanted poster flashed in his mind followed by the image of Madella scrubbing his blood-soaked tunic, her hands trembling in the soapy water. You are not a monster.

  Stealing again would prove her wrong.

  Paley exhaled, stepping back from the stairs. He couldn't risk it. If he was caught, he would be taken away. And if he was taken away, who would protect them? What Teerom suggested was true. Paley saved Amasha. Had Paley not been there that day... he chose not to think of the potential outcome.

  He turned and walked out of the library, heading toward the market district. If he couldn't steal the knowledge to make them, he would have to use the last of his hunt money to buy one. It was a setback for the school fees, but an investment in survival.

  "I don't want it."

  Adimia stood in the backyard, arms crossed, flaring at the small, glinting knife in Paley's hand. It was a basic Ignition Rune, etched with a simple glyph that glowed with a faint orange light.

  "It's not charity, Adimia," Paley said, patience wearing thin. Bacha was sitting on the grass nearby, grinding herbs in a mortar - a hobby she had picked up recently - watching them.

  "It is charity* because I'm magicless," Adimia huffed, looking away. "I told you, I have my sword. I'm training with Reben. I don't need you to buy me magic toys because you pity me."

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  "I don't pity you," Paley said, his voice dropping an octave. "I need you."

  Adimia paused, his eyes darting back to Paley. "What?"

  Paley took a step closer. He hadn't spoken about the weight of his fate as a Quimnia for a while.

  "The Quimnia appear when a Demon Invasion is coming. That's my fate, Adimia. Someday, something worse than a Fulguron is going to come. And when that day comes... I can't face it alone."

  He pressed the rune-knife in Adimia's reluctant hand. "I can't be everywhere at once. I can't watch everyone's back. I need you to be strong enough to stand next to me, not behind me. I need my brothers and sisters."

  Adimia stared at it, swallowing his pride. He gripped it tight. "You really think... a Demon Invasion?"

  "If it happens, we'll be ready," Paley promised. But even with his limited memory he knew; there was nothing more horrifying than a demon. Adimia had seen for himself the power of a Vamali Demon. It ended an entire kingdom on its own.

  Bacha broke the tension. "Hey! Let's test something!" She chirped. She jumped up, holding a vial of murky green liquid. "I made a strength-boosting potion from the Iron-Root we found, Paley! Reben's still recovering 'cause he puked a bunch. I wanna try it on someone without mana like Adimia."

  "You want me to drink that sludge?" Adimia recoiled.

  Bacha nodded expectantly.

  Five minutes later, Adimia had consumed the potion and was holding the knife. Paley watched closely. Two different Magic Types at once, something even he couldn't do yet.

  But Adimia was empty. His body should not have resisted.

  The potion took effect, his muscles swelling slightly with unnatural vigor. Simultaneously he used the runestone's command word, "Ignite," and a burst of fire erupted around the blade, controlled and potent.

  "Woah," Adimia breathed, looking at the flaming blade and his striated hand.

  "He has no mana of his own so he can use outside mana at max efficiency. He can stack them." Paley smiled.

  "I can use fire..." Adimia grinned, swinging the blade, leaving a trail of embers, "And I'm super strong from the juice!" Paley created a thick sheet of earth which Adimia easily sliced through like butter, "I can use anything, right? If I get a wind stone, or an ice one?"

  "Yes, but the special thing about you is you can use two or more at once." Paley nodded, impressed.

  Adimia struck a pose, the fire illuminating his shaved head. "I'm like a Quimnia, huh? But a knight. A Quimknight!"

  "That sounds terrible," Paley and Bacha agreed.

  "It sounds awesome! Fear the Quimknight vile demons!" Adimia laughed, chasing a giggling Bacha around the yard with his flaming dagger.

  Paley watched them, a small weight lifting from his shoulders. Adimia wasn't defenseless. Neither were the rest of them going to be. Not anymore.

  That evening, the cottage was warm. The smell of baking bread filled the kitchen, grounding Paley in the present moment.

  Madella was by the hearth, kneading dough. Paley sat at the table, watching her. The questions that had plagued him in the forest were still there, sitting heavy on his tongue.

  "Mother?"

  "Mm?" She didn't look up, dusting the table with flour.

  "What does it mean... to be a good person?"

  She paused and looked up, blowing a strand of stray hair from her face. Then, she smiled, not a lecture one, but an accepting smile.

  "That's a big question for a Lahrab," she teased. Then she thought for a moment. "I think... it's about spreading joy. It's about loving and letting yourself be loved. Always giving what you can, even if it's just a smile. And always being aware of how beautiful life is, even when it's hard."

  Paley tilted his head. It sounded too simple.

  "But..." Paley hesitated. "What if we lived in a world where people are happy when others suffer? Isn't good and bad kinda different for everyone? What if someone is... born to hurt?"

  Madella giggled, a light, airy sound that seemed to chase away the shadows in the corners of the room.

  "Do we live in that world, Paley? Do you think you were born to hurt?"

  Paley blinked. He thought of the girl giving him the daisy. He thought of Bacha's potion. He thought of Teerom trying to hide the fever to not worry anyone. He thought of everything he wanted to give for their sake.

  "I... I don't think so."

  "So, does that world matter to us?" Madella asked, returning to her dough. "We are here. In this world. And in this world, you have a choice."

  Paley sat back.

  A choice.

  He realized he had been completely overthinking it. He had been looking for a biological destiny, a reason to condemn himself before he had even committed a crime. But Madella was right.

  He was a child of this world and there was much good in it.

  He thought of the Quimnia. They were all protectors: heroes. Maybe he was a half-monster. Maybe he had a hunger that terrified him. But he didn't have to eat. He didn't have to kill unless it was to save.

  He had free will. Even if the darkness was his nature, the light was his choice. And looking at Madella, humming as she shaped the bread, Paley decided.

  He would choose this. Every single day, he would choose this.

  "Can I help with the bread?" Paley asked, standing up.

  Madella smiled, making space for him at the table. "Wash your hands first. I can't wait to see how tasty this bread turns out with your Magic."

  "Yeah, same." He said with a smile.