"Well done, Annabel."
I don't smile.
Not yet. The air still hums with cold, and the sound of melting frost ticks gently beneath my boots. My heart hasn't slowed. I nod once—just once—toward the voice. I don't need to see her face to understand the weight behind her words.
Julius groans as he sits up. I hear his hand brush frost from his shoulder. "Okay, I'll admit it. You've got more than just rumors backing you up."
Kate sighs, dust clinging to her sleeves. There's a shift in her tone—sharp, honest, almost reverent.
"I've never seen elemental control like that," she says. "Not at your age. Not even close."
She says seen, but I hear the awe in her voice more than anything. No pity. No condescension. For once, they've stopped treating me like a child—or a curiosity.
"Thanks, but i was actually holding back." I say simply.
Julius steps right in front of me. "Don't get a big head kid, you almost fainted near the end fight, you weren't holding back!"
Even Dr. Lorre sounds surprised, "is that a joke Annabel? You sound quite serious."
I sigh and summon a very small portal on my hand. "I wasn't holding back with the elements i used, thats true, but i also have space magic which my parents said not to use unless my life was in danger so technically i was holding back."
I can hear Kate and Dr. Lorre gasp in disbelief, but to my surprise Julius steps forward and pats my head. "I'm guessing you kept that a secret for a reason, smart. Guess i really was wrong about you, don't worry your secret is safe with me" he turns to Kate and Dr. Lorre and tells them "let's not make a big deal out of it, we already knew she was special, plus shes nice and humble let's not turn her into a cocky brat."
Both Dr. Lorre and Kate laugh as the air slowly shifts into a friendly atmosphere but then Dr. Lorre turns slightly more serious again i can hear it in her tone.
"Come. Lunch is waiting. And… there's something we need to discuss."
⸻
As we arrive at a local restaurant, i don't need to see the room to feel the tension in it. The scent of grilled meat, herbs, fresh bread—none of it touches anyone's appetite.
Julius leans in again, elbows on the table. "So," he says, voice low, "why observation? I get that she's strong and all but that's not normal for kids. Even strong ones."
Lorre doesn't answer right away. She lets the silence stretch.
Then she speaks, and her voice is sharpened steel.
"Because something's stirring and it's coming from the devil continent. Quietly. Strategically. And we don't know what it is yet."
Kate frowns. "I thought the devils were sealed into their own continent by some of the most powerful mages. Last incursion pushed them back hard."
"They were," Lorre replies. "And they haven't breached the border since. But lately…"
She lowers her voice.
"They've gone quiet. No raids. No sightings. No noise. Just… silence."
Kate tilts her head. "And that's supposed to be worse?"
"It is," Lorre says. "Because silence from devils doesn't mean peace. It means planning. They're watching. Adjusting."
There's a soft rustle of paper. A report hits the table.
I feel the tension in the air shift. The weight of Dr. Lorre's words still hangs in the room like an anchor, but something else is coming. The mission. The real work ahead.
Dr. Lorre straightens in her seat, and her tone sharpens once more.
"Blackstone Caverns—emptied. No signs of battle. No bodies. Just… gone. Elven recon patrols—three of them, elite—vanished near the Broken Woods. No trace. And worst of all…"
She hesitates.
"…we have new confirmation that some of the devil mages are capable of draining mana from the dead. Not just stealing spells. Draining essence. Consuming what's left behind to make themselves stronger."
The table goes still. The room holds its breath.
"They're evolving," she continues. "Learning. And some of the ones we've glimpsed… we believe a single one could overpower two to four Rank 1 Elven mages
Kate stiffens. "There are only ten of those."
"Yes," Lorre says. "Ten in the entire Elven Kingdom. And even they wouldn't last long if multiple devils at that level showed up at once."
Then she says the name.
"Even Lincoln might struggle."
Julius blinks. "You mean the Lincoln?"
"Stage Zero," Lorre confirms. "The only confirmed one. Human. Noble. Awoke early. Never lost a fight. No one knows his limits. But if he faced more than one of them at once…" She doesn't finish the thought.
I don't need her to. I already know.
A beat passes. The weight of her words lingers, pressing in on me, and I suddenly feel very small. Stage Zero. A possibility I had never fully considered. Not until now.
Julius's voice drops lower. "So what does that have to do with her?"
Dr. Lorre doesn't hesitate.
"Annabel has the potential to reach Stage Zero."
There's no drama in the words. No performance. Just cold, unshakable certainty.
I feel the silence in the room shift—turn inward.
"That's why I'm being observed?" I ask quietly.
"No," she replies. "You're being watched because you're the only one we know of with that potential—and the only one young enough to be shaped before the devils take interest. Or worse, try to take you."
⸻
A knock at the door—three short raps. I hear the courier's boots—light, precise, not yet worn from real travel. A scroll is handed off.
"Urgent orders from High Command. Field mission. Confirmed priority."
Paper rustles. Lorre reads fast. Her breath changes—just a little. Enough to notice.
"There's a cave system near the northern border. Close to Nymph territory. Locals have reported corrupted wildlife—devil beasts. Wolves, bears, even a river drake. Acting in strange ways. Organized. Patterned."
Julius leans back. "Devil beasts?"
"Creatures twisted by demonic mana," she confirms. "Smarter. Meaner. Tactical. Some even mimic advanced strategy. I don't think this has anything to do with the devils, this is not the way they work. And so" Dr. Lorre looks over at me
She sets the scroll down.
"You three are going in. Julius. Kate. Annabel."
I tap the table once. Sound check. Depth. Structure. I feel it echo clean under my palm.
"When?" I ask.
"Two days. Train tomorrow. You'll lead a recon team—four mages, two support soldiers. No more. This isn't a battlefield. We want answers, not a fight. This is also a great chance for annabel to practice in a real scenario. And who knows you might even find some amazing rewards, it's an high end ranked cave system that has not been raided before."
Julius exhales slowly. "Annabel just know that if i were to find a space magic scroll down there, I'll be using it on myself to make sure i beat you next time." I can hear the playful banter in his tone, i smile "but that's unheard of isn't it? I've never even heard of people having different types of magic than the basic ones, except well my own space magic ." He pats my head again for some reason it's quite comforting, its not a feeling i'm used to "you definitely still have a lot to learn, i'm sure you'll learn a lot on this expedition."
I wake to the scent of dew on grass, distant campfires burning low, and the subtle shift in the air that always comes just before something important. I sit up, still sore from yesterday's fight, but there's a strange energy running through my limbs—anticipation, maybe. Or something closer to purpose.
Julius's voice greets me from across the room. "Ready to meet the squad, prodigy?"
He sounds smug, but softer than usual—less teasing, more protective. I don't bother answering him. He already knows the answer.
Dr. Lorre leads me outside again. The air's brisk, the way it gets before noon storms roll in from the mountains. The ground beneath my feet is steady, familiar, packed down from training drills and marching boots. I follow her scent—cool linen, sharp mint leaves—and stop when her steps halt.
"They're assembled," she says. "Let's make introductions."
I turn my head slightly, mapping them out by the way their energy pushes against the air. Mages always hum a little differently than soldiers—stronger presence, less grounded. I feel four distinct magical signatures—each unique, each carrying their own rhythm.
A deep, gravel-thick voice speaks first. "Daniel. Earth user." His mana feels massive. Like standing beside a landslide that hasn't fallen yet. "Rank 4. Former arena combatant. Orders are orders, so I'll keep you alive."
I nod once. His presence is impossible to ignore. He's easily the largest one here—I can tell by the echo of his steps and the way the ground shivers slightly when he moves. He's not just strong; he's experienced. Dangerous in the good way.
Another voice chimes in next—less sure, with a slight stammer. "Uh—Randall. Ice and water mage. Rank 6. I… I specialize in long-range support."
He shifts from foot to foot, and his energy flutters around the edges, like he's holding back or unsure where to place himself. But even uncertain magic is still magic—and his hums with untapped precision. I tilt my head toward him.
"You'll do fine," I say quietly. He doesn't respond, but I hear the way his breath evens out a little after that.
Then comes the sneer. "Rolim. Fire." The voice is sharp, full of arrogance and disdain. "Rank 5. I'm not here to babysit."
His mana radiates heat before he even draws on it—quick, sharp, chaotic. He smells like expensive oils and the burn of scorched leather. I don't need to see him to know he's dressed in fine things and probably hates getting his hands dirty.
Before I can respond, Julius mutters beside me, "Careful with that one. He's overdue for a beating."
I smirk.
Then comes the last of the mages. A woman—her voice calm, even, but vibrant with something warmer beneath. "Lirael. Plant mage and healer. Rank 5." Her energy is… peaceful. Like a garden after rain. Still, but quietly pulsing with life.
"Don't worry," she adds kindly. "I'll keep everyone breathing."
I nod again, this time slower. "Thank you."
Then, two more steps—lighter, more practical. The sound of armor but not heavy. Not ceremonial. These aren't elites. These are real soldiers. I know it by the way they stand—centered, still, ready.
"I'm Wyn," the first says. His voice is young but solid. "Close combat. Longsword and short blade. Not a mage, but I won't let anything get close."
"Zahor," the second says. Older, calmer, like a blade that's been sharpened a thousand times. "Same role. I cover the flanks."
I take a breath, letting their words settle into me. I can feel the weight of each of them now, where they stand, how they breathe. This is our squad. Not just mine. Mine and Julius's. And Kate's.
She hasn't said a word yet—but she doesn't need to. Her presence is constant, like iron beneath silk. I can feel her standing nearby, listening, calculating, ready. She doesn't command attention. She just has it.
"I'm Annabel," I say simply. "water, earth, fire, wind and ice magic." I leave space out of the list. No need to give away everything on the first day. I won't need saving. Just don't get in the way."
There's a pause—and then a short bark of laughter from Daniel. "I like her already."
Even Julius lets out a small chuckle. "Yeah, she'll fit in just fine."
Kate speaks then, just loud enough for the squad to hear. "Confidence is good. But survival's better. This mission isn't about glory—it's about making it back with the right information, and letting annabel practice. No more no less."
Her tone is gentle, but there's steel in it. The kind of strength that makes people listen without needing to raise her voice.
Dr. Lorre's tone turns brisk. "Your target is the Nymph Border Cave system. You'll travel light and keep a two-day recon window. If you see signs of devils, you retreat and report. No heroics."
"Yes ma'am," the group answers.
She turns to the three of us last. "Julius. Kate. Annabel. Keep this squad sharp. Their lives are your responsibility. I expect a clean operation."
We nod as one.
As the others break into smaller conversations—checking weapons, coordinating supplies.
A cave corrupted by devils, somewhere in the wilderness, filled with creatures that act like generals. It should terrify me.
Instead, I feel something deep stir in my chest.
Not fear.
Curiosity
We move before dawn, packs light, blades oiled, spells prepped but unspoken. No one talks much. The trees are dense around us—I can feel them breathing, their trunks broad and ancient, roots like bones underfoot. The air's thick with damp and expectation, every step closer to something waiting.
Kate leads. I follow her scent—iron and pine bark—and the soft scuff of her boots where they brush through undergrowth. Julius keeps the rear, his mana flaring every so often like a heartbeat just behind my ribs. The others settle into a rhythm between them. Steady. Watchful. Not a squad yet—but close.
By midday, we stop. The air changes.
I reach down, fingers brushing stone—jagged, cracked, recently disturbed. There's a cavity ahead, deep and hollow, the way sound disappears into it like it's being swallowed. A cave.
The scent hits me next—metal and rot, something long-dead trying to pretend it's still alive. Mana sticks to the edges of the place like dried blood.
Rolim clicks his tongue. "This it?"
Kate steps forward. I hear the soft creak of her belt, the rasp of leather as her hand drops to her weapon. "It's not the size that should worry you," she says quietly. "It's what's hiding in it."
Daniel's voice rumbles out beside me. "Let's find out."
No one laughs.
We descend in pairs—Julius brushes my shoulder as we take point, Randall and Lirael falling behind. The path narrows. Sound gets swallowed quick. My cane taps lightly ahead, sending back the hollow echo of stone, stone, drop.
It's colder inside. Not the clean kind. This cold clings to the bone and listens when you breathe. The air tastes wrong—like damp ashes and copper.
As we pass the threshold, something flickers just at the edge of my perception—movement without footsteps, magic that shifts like oil on water. My skin prickles.
I don't say anything yet.
Not until I'm sure it's not just the cave watching us.