The calm of the Healer's Hut shattered before breakfast.

  ?Elder Harlan stormed in, dragging Mira by the hand. Her earlier smugness had evaporated, replaced by red rimmed eyes and a tear streaked face.

  ?"Alicia!" Harlan bellowed, his voice echoing off the wooden beams. "What did you do to her? She came home yesterday wailing like a banshee!"

  ?Alicia didn't even look up from her mortar. "I did nothing, Harlan. Your granddaughter has a vivid imagination and a desperate need for attention. If she was crying, it is likely because no one was looking at her."

  ?"Nonsense!" Harlan spat on the floor. "I knew this was a mistake. Sending her here to learn 'letters' and 'numbers.' What use is reading for a girl who's going to marry a pig farmer and muck out sties?"

  ?Mira flinched. The bratty facade cracked, and she looked at her grandfather with pure, crushed devastation.

  ?"I told her," Harlan ranted, oblivious to the girl’s pain. "I told her she doesn't need fancy city learning. She needs to learn to cook and clean. Come on, girl. We're done with this witch."

  ?He yanked Mira toward the door. She looked back, at the hut, at the books, even at me, and for a second, I didn't see an enemy. I saw a kid being told her future was nothing but pig slop.

  ?"It's not over!" he breathed, trying to salvage some dignity . "I'll show you! I'll show all of you!"

  ?The door slammed, leaving a heavy silence.

  ?Alicia stared at the closed door. She wasn't smiling. The air around her felt static and sharp. She was pissed.

  ?"Well," she said, her voice clipped. "Class is in session."

  ?She pointed a finger straight at me.

  ?'Oh, come on,' I thought, slumping. 'It's spring! Can't I have a break?'

  ?But Alicia was in a mood. She drilled me for hours. Geography. Math. Etiquette. By the time the other children went home, my brain felt like mush.

  ?"I have a surprise," Alicia said, reaching into her desk.

  ?She pulled out a long, slender wooden case. Inside lay a stylus. It looked just like the charcoal holder she'd given me before, but the wood was darker, polished to a shine, and the tip was a crystalline nib.

  ?"This," she whispered, "is not for charcoal. I know your mother forbids magic training. And I know you pretend to be a good boy." She leaned in, her eyes sharp. "But I also know you scribble runes in the air, little monster."

  ?My heart skipped a beat.

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  ?"So, I got this made," she said, handing me the case. She placed a small pot of clear, viscous liquid beside it. "This ink is Aether reactive. It only leaves a mark if you push mana through the stylus while you write. Think of the stylus as an extension of your finger. If you control your flow perfectly, you write. If you don't... well, it stays invisible. You can practice right under Nora's nose."

  ?She grinned. " Though writing runes and making them work are two different things."

  ?I stared at the stylus. It was beautiful. It was perfect. It was the key to mastering the runes on the axe and learning to control my magic .

  ?"Thank you," I whispered, genuinely touched.

  ?"Don't thank me yet," she said, snatching the case back and shooing me toward the door. "It's your birthday present. You get it tonight . Now, shoo! Go get cleaned up."

  ?That evening, our small house was bursting with smells that made my soul weep with joy.

  ?Nora had outdone herself. There was a roasted leg of lamb , traded for Oliver's best pelts, a mountain of bread, and fresh fruits. Alicia arrived, looking elegant in her "village healer" robes, carrying a small wrapped package.

  ?We ate until we were stuffed. Oliver told stories about his hunt, exaggerating the size of the wolves. Nora laughed, her face flushed with happiness. It was perfect.

  ?Then, presents.

  ?Oliver stood up, looking proud. "From me," he said, handing me a small leather pouch. "I know Nora said no bows... so I got you ammo."

  ?I opened it. It was full of smooth, perfectly round clay pellets.

  ?"For the slingshot," he winked. "Practice hard, son."

  ?'Yes!' I cheered internally.

  ?Nora gave me a package of soft fabric. "New clothes," she beamed. "You're growing so fast, my big two year old."

  ?I smiled and hugged her. "Mama. Thanks."

  ?Then, Alicia stood up. She reached into her robe. "And from me..."

  ?BANG.

  ?The door flew open. Pete stood there, chest heaving, sweat dripping from his face. He looked terrified.

  ?"Mistress Alicia!" he gasped. "Come quick! We found someone! By the south road! He's... he looks dead!"

  ?The festive mood evaporated instantly. Alicia was moving before Pete finished his sentence. "Show me."

  ?Nora grabbed her cloak. "Oliver, bring the lantern. We're coming."

  ?They scooped me up and we ran into the night.

  ?We found him sprawled in the mud near the village gates. He was young, maybe mid twenties, but he looked like a skeleton wrapped in skin. His clothes were tattered, and his face was gaunt, pale as a ghost.

  ?"He's breathing," Alicia announced, her hand glowing with green light as she scanned him. "Barely."

  ?We carried him to the Healer's Hut. I watched from Oliver's arms as they laid him on the table. The light from the lamp fell on his face, and I gasped.

  ?I knew him.

  ?It was the merchant. The Spice Merchant from last year! The guy with black pepper!

  ?'He's alive!' I thought, relief washing over me. 'My supplier!'

  ?Alicia worked over him for ten minutes, feeding him a potion. Finally, she stepped back.

  ?"He's not injured," she said, sounding puzzled. "He's just... exhausted. And starving. He's pushed his body to the absolute limit. He needs sleep and food, in that order."

  ?She looked at my parents. "Go home. He won't wake until morning. There's nothing more to do tonight."

  ?Nora nodded, looking exhausted herself. Oliver picked me up. "Come on, birthday boy. Bedtime."

  ?They turned to leave.

  ?I panicked. Wait.

  ?We were leaving. The party was over. And Alicia still had the stylus in her pocket.

  ?If I left now, I wouldn't get it until tomorrow. Or later. And I needed to practice tonight.

  ?I wiggled in Oliver's arms. I reached out my hand toward Alicia, eyes wide and desperate.

  ?"Present!" I demanded firmly.

  ?Oliver chuckled. "Oh, he didn't forget."

  ?Alicia stopped, looked at me, and then let out a short, sharp laugh. "Priorities, little monster. I like that."

  ?She reached into her pocket and tossed the wooden case to Oliver. "Happy birthday, Vivian. Try not to stain the table."

  ?I clutched the case to my chest, feeling the hum of the magical tool inside.

  ?This was going to be a very productive night.