The sun was just rising in the village of Elderfield, painting the sky with soft orange and pink colors. The air was cool and fresh, and the sound of birds made the morning feel peaceful.
In a small cottage at the edge of the village, Harris Wells sat at the kitchen table, quietly watching his foster parents move around.
"Morning, sleepyhead," said Mara Wells, a kind woman with warm eyes and tired hands. She placed a plate of bread and jam in front of him.
"Thank you, Mum," Harris replied softly.
"Planning to explore again today?" asked Thom Wells, a tall man with a soft voice and a gentle smile. He was fixing a chair by the window.
Harris nodded. "Just the woods. I like it there."
Thom grunted. "Just be careful near the cliffs. And stay away from the old well."
Mara looked at Harris with a small smile. "That's where we found you, you know. The old well. Wrapped in that strange blanket."
Harris gave a quiet smile. He had heard that story many times. But now that he knew who he really was, the story meant something deeper. That was where my second life began.
He ate quickly and packed his things. Chalk. A smooth stone. His wooden stick, the one he used like a wand.
He waved goodbye and headed into the woods.
The hidden grove he called the Arcane Garden was quiet and green, hidden between thick trees and large stones covered in moss. No one from the village ever came here.
This was his place.
Harris sat down on a flat rock and pulled out the smooth white stone. It was the size of a small apple, clean and round. Perfect for his first real enchantment.
"I want to make you glow," he whispered to the stone, as if it were alive. "A light I can carry with me. One that won't go out in the dark."
He took his chalk and began to draw.
A circle first, steady and even. Then a rune for light inside it. Around the edge, he added three small curved lines, he had read that it could help hold the magic in place, like a magical net.
He sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and placed his fingers gently on the rune.
Light. I need light. Not just to see... but to feel safe. To not be afraid.
At first, nothing happened.
He focused harder, remembering the dark nights when he had cried alone under his blanket, afraid of the whispers in his dreams. Remembering the fear when magic had first awakened in him.
And the warmth when Mara hugged him. The calm in Thom's quiet voice. The way their small home always smelled like bread and herbs.
"I want to make something that feels like home," he whispered.
A soft warmth filled his fingers.
He opened his eyes, the stone was glowing. Not bright, but soft and golden. Like the light of a candle seen through a curtain.
He laughed, quietly. Not loud or proud. Just a quiet sound of joy.
"I did it."
The light flickered for a moment… then held steady.
But he could feel it draining him. Just a little.
He held it for a minute longer, then let go. The glow slowly faded.
So I can make it work, he thought. But it's not perfect yet. I need something stronger than chalk. And maybe... maybe I need to power it differently next time.
Still, it was a success.
His first real creation.
That night, back at home, the fire crackled in the fireplace. Mara sat in her old chair, sewing a patch into Harris's shirt. Thom read from an old, worn book.
Harris sat close, the glowing stone hidden in his pocket, warm against his leg.
"You're so quiet tonight," Mara said softly. "Everything okay, love?"
Harris nodded. "Yeah. I'm… just thinking."
Thom looked over. "Thinking's good. Just don't let it carry you away too far."
Harris smiled.
He looked at these two people, not his real parents by blood, but maybe the closest thing to family he had ever known.
He had power now. A second chance. And the future was wide open.
But for now, this warmth, this light was enough.
He slipped the stone from his pocket and placed it on the small shelf near his bed.
It didn't glow now. But he knew it could.
Just like him.