Shadows of a second life

The days following the reconstruction of Willowbrook settled into a quieter rhythm. The village was healing, slowly but surely, and Elias found himself spending more time with Lira and Elyra in the pursuit of divine magic.

Lira had taken it upon herself to train both of them in the various branches of divine magic—healing, heart, detoxification, and purification. The sessions took place in the quiet garden behind the house, where the newly replanted apple sapling stood as a small symbol of resilience. Soft light filtered through the leaves. The air carried the clean scent of turned earth and growing things.

It was grueling work.

Elias and Elyra sat cross-legged on the grass while Lira guided them through the ancient incantations. The words were complex, carrying layers of intent, rhythm, and spiritual weight that went far beyond simple visualization.

“Try again,” Lira said patiently, demonstrating a basic healing incantation on a small cut on her own finger. The wound closed smoothly in seconds. “Feel the flow of life energy. It is not like attack magic. You must connect with the essence itself.”

Elias tried. He formed the words carefully, but they felt clumsy on his tongue. The mana responded sluggishly. The healing effect was weak at best—barely closing a paper cut. Elyra fared little better. Her calm demeanor helped with focus, yet the ancient tongue resisted her, the spells fizzling out before they could fully take hold.

They made almost no real progress.

Lira remained gentle but honest. “Divine magic is rare for a reason. It demands more than power. It demands harmony.”

Yet Elias carried a secret edge.

In rare moments of deep focus, he could perform chantless divine magic—something no other human or even elf had managed. He had discovered it accidentally while trying to heal a small bruise on his hand. When he truly understood the underlying principle instead of merely reciting words, the energy flowed naturally. A faint glow appeared and the bruise faded. Replicating it consistently remained incredibly difficult. It required perfect mental clarity; the slightest distraction caused it to collapse.

Elyra, however, found a different kind of breakthrough.

She focused on using her emotions as the foundation—the calm, steady love she felt for her grandfather, the quiet gratitude toward Elias, the gentle hope for a better future. One afternoon, while attempting a basic detoxification spell on a poisonous plant, she succeeded without chanting. Soft light enveloped the leaves and stem, purging the toxins completely.

Lira’s eyes widened in genuine shock. “Chantless divine magic… at your age? Even among elves, this is unheard of.”

Elias stared, equally stunned.

She did it. Just like that.

His internal voice was quiet and carefully controlled.

I’ve been struggling for weeks to force the connection, and she simply… feels it. Of course she does. She’s better at the quiet things. The pure things.

A familiar, cold caution settled in his chest.

Don’t look at her too long. Don’t let this closeness settle. You’ve seen how quickly warmth turns into a blade.

Elyra blushed deeply but smiled. “It just… felt right.”

Later that day, Lira, Elias, and Elyra worked together on household chores. They washed clothes by the stream, swept the floors, and prepared dinner. Elyra moved with graceful efficiency. Her calm presence made even mundane tasks feel peaceful—almost dangerously so.

As they worked, Elyra spoke softly about her heritage. “Elves—or elf-related humans like half-elves—have a natural ability to interact with and directly command natural spirits.”

Elias paused while hanging a wet tunic. “Isn’t that what other mages do?”

Elyra shook her head. “No. Every human mage or member of other races casts magic through mana projection and visualization. It is slower, more mechanical, and time-consuming. Elves can do the same thing seamlessly and almost automatically. It is like breathing to us.”

Elias thought back to his previous instructor, Liora Sylvaine.

It makes sense she was so good. Even now, I know I’m stronger and more destructive, but her execution speed and seamless remote casting made me feel like a child even after all my hard work.

His thoughts drifted further. He still had not written back to Selene after her letter. The mention of school had stirred too many bad memories, and in the emotional wreckage after the battle he had simply let the days pass.

I wonder if she can ever forgive me for that silence.

The thought was distant. He did not let it linger.

Elyra noticed he had grown quiet. Her calm expression faltered slightly. A hint of jealousy crept into her voice. “You’re thinking about another girl again, aren’t you?”

Elias blinked, then carefully schooled his face. “No. It’s not like that.”

She crossed her arms, looking mildly upset. “Feel free to hang out with her or do something to her if you want. I don’t mind.”

The words were soft, but the hurt beneath them was clear.

Elias felt the old, sharp memory rise like a blade: Aiko’s public smile, the calculated cruelty, the way she had used him and then discarded him in front of everyone while calling him average. The laughter of classmates. The absolute certainty that trust was a trap and affection was a weapon people used until they found something better.

He deliberately looked away and focused on folding the shirt in his hands with excessive care.

Don’t answer her. Don’t reassure her. Don’t let this become anything.

If I let her close, it will end the same way. She’ll see the broken parts eventually. She’ll decide I’m not enough. Better to keep the distance now, while I still can.

He kept his voice even and distant. “I’m just tired. That’s all.”

Elyra’s cheeks puffed slightly in annoyance. She turned on her heel and walked out of the compound without another word.

The moment she left, the trees around the garden exploded outward in a sudden, uncontrolled burst of wind magic—branches and leaves flying everywhere as her suppressed emotions finally escaped. The comedic violence of it hung in the air for a second before the debris settled.

Elias stood amid the scattered leaves, staring at the mess.

I did that on purpose, he thought coldly.

I pushed her away. I always will.

Aiko taught me what happens when you let someone in. I won’t make that mistake again—not with Elyra, not with anyone.

Better she hates me a little than trusts me enough to break me later.

He bent down and began gathering the fallen branches, the quiet garden suddenly feeling much colder than before.