Chương 56: Four Candles and an Empty Chair

Several weeks passed without another message from the old runesmith, and the weapons that once arrived regularly at the farm stopped appearing altogether. At first, Sieghart expected the interruption to last only a few days. The man had probably encountered trouble with the military, an important customer, or some unreasonable official. When the first week passed without news, Sieghart became concerned. By the end of the second week, concern had developed into steadily growing annoyance.

His primary source of income had disappeared, and the monthly additions to his collection of books suddenly looked much less affordable than before. Sieghart still possessed some silver coins from his previous work, but spending them without replacing them made him uncomfortable. Financial independence was difficult to achieve when someone interrupted the financial part. More importantly, he had lost access to the enchanted weapons that allowed him to practice Mana Transfusion under different conditions.

Charging ordinary objects produced no measurable improvement. Sieghart attempted to transfer mana into a farming tool, a bucket, several stones, and one particularly unfortunate chair. None of them could retain the energy. The mana either remained trapped in his body or dispersed immediately after leaving his hands. Without runes or enchantments, ordinary objects offered nothing capable of containing it.

He considered visiting the town despite the warning contained in the letter, but no opportunity presented itself. His grandparents had no reason to travel there, and walking alone would attract attention. Edric also rejected the idea as soon as Sieghart mentioned it. His grandfather did not forbid him directly, but his expression made his opinion perfectly clear.

"We should remain quiet for a while." Sieghart had been helping repair an irrigation channel when Edric spoke. He stopped moving the water and looked toward his grandfather.

"Because of the battle?"

"Because of what people saw during the battle." Edric drove his shovel into the earth before glancing toward the distant road. No travelers were visible, but he still lowered his voice.

"Stories spread quickly, Sieg. Most people will exaggerate what happened, but some will come looking for the truth. Visiting the town would make it easier for them." Sieghart understood the logic. Several military officials had witnessed his magic, and hundreds of soldiers could describe at least part of what happened. The rumors had probably reached nearby settlements already.

Some versions might describe him accurately, while others could claim that he summoned a black sun and destroyed the entire Firian army alone. The truth was dangerous enough without encouraging people to investigate. Sieghart had defeated a powerful commander, healed severe burns, and demonstrated an abnormal amount of mana. He had also done all of that at six years old, apparently. People capable of seeing profit in unusual children would become interested sooner or later.

"You're right." Edric looked surprised by how easily Sieghart agreed.

"I am?"

"Going against a written warning without knowing what happened would be stupid. I can wait." The waiting still annoyed him, but annoyance was preferable to walking directly into an unknown problem. Sieghart had survived the battle partly because he recognized danger before it reached him. Ignoring the runesmith's warning merely because he disliked losing money would demonstrate exactly the kind of questionable intelligence Sieghart frequently accused himself of possessing.

He continued working on the farm while maintaining his training schedule. Normal labor occupied the mornings, and magical experiments consumed most afternoons. The new elemental spells developed gradually because Sieghart now understood which limitations he needed to overcome. Progress became a matter of deliberate improvement rather than blind repetition. Water Cannon reached Level Two after Sieghart maintained its full pressure for two continuous seconds.

The improvement doubled its duration and granted another point of Magic. Water Cannon reached Level 2. Magic +1 Two seconds sounded unimpressive until Sieghart saw how much water the spell released. The continuous blast could fill a small irrigation trench or knock a heavy log across the training field. Controlling the recoil remained difficult. If Sieghart failed to stabilize his legs with Protection and earth control, Water Cannon pushed him backward while drenching everything nearby.

He suspected the spell would reach Level Three once he maintained it for five seconds or learned to control its direction without interrupting the flow. Wind Blade reached Level Two after Sieghart improved its cutting power enough to sever a branch as thick as his wrist from fifteen meters away. Wind Blade reached Level 2. Magic +1 The spell still lacked the destructive power of Fireball, but its speed made it difficult to avoid. It also produced almost no sound before striking.

Sieghart considered that combination extremely valuable. Explosions attracted attention, while a nearly invisible crescent of compressed air could end a fight without announcing his location. Accuracy remained a problem whenever he aimed beyond twenty meters. Wind Blade became unstable at longer ranges and sometimes curved away from the intended target. Sieghart recorded that weakness in his training notes. Once its cutting power became reliable, he would focus on range and trajectory control.

Earth Bullet required the most physical preparation because it depended upon nearby material. Sieghart collected loose stones and spread them around the training ground before each session. The spell reached Level Two when he reduced its creation time enough to fire two projectiles during a single second. Earth Bullet reached Level 2. Magic +1 Sieghart accomplished that by gathering material with both hands simultaneously. One bullet formed above his right palm while the next began compressing above his left.

The alternating pattern allowed him to maintain a steady firing rate without increasing the mental burden too quickly. Unfortunately, his accuracy became worse when he divided his attention. Several bullets missed the training logs entirely and disappeared into the distant field. Sieghart spent nearly an hour locating the impact points to ensure he had not damaged anything important. His new spells remained weak compared to the Aura techniques he witnessed during the battle, but their progress was consistent.

Every level increased his Magic and improved their practical usefulness. Sieghart continued avoiding Giant Fireball. Even the farm's most isolated area was too close to fields, roads, animals, and his grandparents for safe experimentation. Explaining another missing boulder would already be difficult. Explaining a new crater surrounded by burned crops would probably require more creativity than he possessed.

White Magic and Arcane Magic remained unchanged, despite his repeated attempts to understand their progression requirements. Protection and First Aid improved through use, but their parent category did not gain experience. Arcane Magic was even more stubborn. Without enchanted objects, Mana Transfusion offered no obvious method of training, and attempts to create Mana Bolt continued failing. Sieghart accepted the temporary imbalance.

Black Magic would advance faster because it contained most of his practical spells, but he would continue searching for opportunities to develop the other paths. One evening, after several hours of training Earth Bullet, Sieghart finally lowered his arms and inspected the remains of his wooden targets. Dozens of holes covered the nearest log, while several Wind Blade cuts crossed its surface. The ground behind it had become soaked from Water Cannon practice.

The sun was already setting beyond the fields, covering the sky with red and orange light. Sieghart decided that he had accomplished enough for one day. His head felt slightly heavy from maintaining several spells in quick succession, although his increasing Mentality made the strain considerably easier to endure than before. Sieghart collected the remaining stones and stored them inside a small wooden box. Leaving ammunition scattered everywhere might become dangerous if someone stepped into his training area.

Once everything looked reasonably organized, he followed the narrow path through the fields toward the farmhouse. The smell of soil and crops accompanied him while evening insects began making noise. He expected to find Elara preparing dinner and Edric checking the tools inside the barn. Instead, both of his grandparents stood outside the house. They remained close together near the front door, holding an unfolded letter between them. Their expressions were too complicated to represent ordinary news.

Elara looked sad, Edric appeared uncomfortable, and neither of them noticed Sieghart approaching until he was only a few steps away. Sieghart stopped beside the wooden fence and examined the letter. It carried the dark-red seal of House Emberhart, although the wax had already been broken. He did not need to ask whether it contained bad news. His grandparents looked like people trying to decide how much of the truth they should reveal.

"Did something happen?" Elara folded the letter carefully before answering. Her fingers remained on the paper as if she were reluctant to release it.

"Your little sister turned four yesterday." Sieghart frowned before nodding. For several seconds, he did not know what response his grandmother expected from him. The girl was his biological sister, but Sieghart had never met her. He did not know her name, appearance, personality, or whether she had inherited their parents' combat Aura. His only connection to her came from the fact that her existence caused his parents to send him away. Even that had not been her decision.

A newborn child could hardly be blamed for adults deciding that one child should replace another. Sieghart held no anger toward her, but he also felt no affection.

"I see." Elara studied his face, probably searching for resentment. Sieghart tried to remain neutral because explaining his complete lack of emotional connection might hurt her. The birthday also reminded him of something else. Sieghart counted backward through the recent weeks and slowly realized that he should have turned six during the war. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

His birthday had probably occurred while he and Edric were traveling or staying at the military camp. The days had blended together too much for him to notice. Sieghart had never cared much about birthdays in his previous life, particularly after failing the college entrance examination. They became annual reminders that time was moving faster than his accomplishments. His grandparents treated birthdays differently.

Elara prepared special meals, Edric selected gifts with terrible subtlety, and both of them acted as if surviving another year deserved celebration. Their enthusiasm made the days matter to Sieghart. Without them, turning six would have represented nothing beyond his body becoming slightly taller and less inconvenient. Elara seemed to reach the same realization. Her eyes widened before she turned toward Edric.

"Sieg's birthday." Edric's expression changed as he calculated the dates.

"It happened while we were away."

"You were at the battlefield." Sieghart shrugged.

"It wasn't important." Elara looked offended by the suggestion.

"Of course it was important."

"We had more urgent things happening."

"That doesn't mean we should forget your birthday." Sieghart considered explaining that avoiding incineration had been a perfectly acceptable birthday activity. He decided that the joke would not improve her mood.

"We can ignore it this year."

"We are not ignoring it." The firmness in Elara's voice ended the discussion. Sieghart had apparently survived a war only to be defeated by a delayed birthday celebration. Edric attempted to hide a smile before looking toward the letter again. His amusement disappeared almost immediately.

"The note came from someone working at the Emberhart estate. They thought we should know about the celebration." Sieghart glanced at the paper. The message had arrived after the birthday, meaning it had never been intended as an invitation. Elara had learned about her granddaughter's fourth birthday from a delayed household notice. She had not been asked to attend or even informed before the celebration happened. Sieghart finally understood their complicated expressions.

The letter contained happy news delivered in a way that emphasized how distant the family had become. Elara touched the edge of the paper before looking at Sieghart.

"Would you like to meet her?" Sieghart blinked several times. He considered pretending to be interested for his grandmother's sake, but the lie would become obvious as soon as they discussed actually visiting.

"Not really." An awkward silence followed. The evening wind moved through the fields while Edric stared toward the barn. Elara looked down at the letter, apparently uncertain how to respond. Sieghart wondered if his answer had sounded too cold. He had nothing against his sister, but meeting her offered no clear benefit to either of them. She had grown up as the recognized heir of House Emberhart while Sieghart lived far from the estate. Appearing suddenly might only create confusion or resentment.

Their parents might also interpret his visit as an attempt to challenge her position. Sieghart wanted even less involvement with that kind of family drama. He could already imagine some servant whispering that the discarded firstborn had returned after demonstrating powerful magic. Nobles could transform an ordinary meeting between children into a succession crisis before dessert. Sieghart looked from Elara to Edric as another possibility occurred to him.

"Do you want to see her?" His grandparents exchanged a glance. The movement was quick, but Sieghart noticed the hesitation behind it.

"Perhaps." Elara's answer sounded carefully neutral. Edric nodded without adding anything, suggesting they had discussed the subject before. Sieghart immediately understood why they were being cautious. They probably wanted to meet their granddaughter, but they feared that saying so would make him feel replaced again. Their concern was unnecessary. Sieghart did not consider affection a limited resource, and he would never demand that they ignore another grandchild to prove their loyalty to him.

"You can go." Elara raised her head.

"We can?"

"I can look after the farm for a few days. It isn't time for the harvest, and I already handle most of the watering." His grandparents stared at him with matching expressions of disbelief. Sieghart could almost hear them remembering that his current body belonged to a six-year-old child.

"You can't stay here alone."

"I defended the farm from monsters before." The words escaped before Sieghart remembered that his grandparents did not know about the pig-like creatures he had killed during the night. Elara narrowed her eyes.

"What monsters?"

"Hypothetical monsters." Edric coughed into one hand to conceal what might have been a laugh. Sieghart corrected his argument before his grandmother began another investigation.

"I can use magic, prepare food, look after the animals, and maintain the fields. Nothing complicated should happen in a few days."

"That isn't the point."

"What is the point?"

"You are six." Sieghart could not dispute the accuracy of that statement, but he disagreed with the conclusion. He had the memories of an adult and enough magic to erase a large boulder. Unfortunately, explaining the first advantage remained impossible, while demonstrating the second would probably strengthen Elara's determination not to leave him alone. Edric rested a hand on Sieghart's shoulder.

"We know you can take care of yourself better than most children, Sieg. That doesn't mean we should leave you alone on an isolated farm."

"People would talk if they found out," Elara added.

"More importantly, something could happen that has nothing to do with fighting." Sieghart considered accidents, illness, damaged equipment, injured animals, unexpected visitors, or officials arriving with another inconvenient order. He could solve most of those problems, but his grandparents had no way of knowing that. From their perspective, leaving him alone would be irresponsible.

"Fine. I won't stay alone." Elara relaxed slightly. Sieghart pointed toward the letter before continuing.

"We could all go, then." The tension returned to their expressions. Edric looked toward Elara, leaving the decision to her.

"We weren't invited." Sieghart frowned.

"You need an invitation to see your daughter and granddaughter?"

"The Emberhart estate belongs to your father," Edric explained.

"Arriving without permission could create problems, especially after everything that happened during the war." That sounded ridiculous. Elara had given birth to Sieghart's mother, yet she needed permission from her son-in-law to visit her. Sieghart looked at the letter more carefully. The message contained news about the birthday but apparently offered no suggestion that they should come.

"When was the last time you saw my mother?" Elara remained silent long enough to provide the answer before she finally spoke.

"It has been several years." Sieghart searched his memories. His mother had never visited the farm after sending him there, and his grandparents rarely traveled beyond the nearby town. That meant Elara had not seen her daughter for most of Sieghart's life. Edric had also fought in a war near Emberhart territory without receiving a single personal message from her. Sieghart had always focused on how his parents treated him. He had not considered that the same distance affected his grandparents.

His mother possessed a powerful combat Aura despite being born to two people whose magic was primarily useful for farming. That rare talent had allowed her to enter a social world far above the one where she grew up. Perhaps marrying Lord Emberhart created expectations that discouraged her from maintaining close ties with her parents. Perhaps Alaric considered them beneath his household. Maybe she had chosen the distance herself.

Sieghart lacked enough information to decide, but none of the possibilities made the situation pleasant.

"Did she ever explain why?" Elara shook her head.

"She has responsibilities." The answer sounded practiced. Elara had probably repeated it to herself countless times because the alternative explanations hurt more. Sieghart looked across the fields his grandparents maintained every day. Their magic fed hundreds of people, and their work demanded knowledge, discipline, and endurance. Yet society considered them less important than someone capable of swinging a sword with supernatural strength.

Their daughter's combat Aura allowed her to rise above them, socially and perhaps literally. Books frequently praised families that produced generations of powerful Aura users. Marriages were arranged around compatible talents, while children without combat potential became embarrassments. People with agricultural, crafting, or domestic Auras remained essential to society, but that importance did not translate into equal respect. Sieghart had experienced that system personally.

His parents discarded him because an old man decided he lacked the potential to become a powerful Aura fighter. The same parents accepted money for his magical labor once that labor became useful. Apparently, value mattered only when influential people could recognize and control it.

"Do people really think they're better than everyone else because they have combat Auras?" Edric sighed before leaning against the fence.

"Some do."

"That is stupid."

"It makes sense for them." Sieghart had expected his grandfather to defend the social order or explain that combat Aura users protected the kingdom. Edric's immediate agreement surprised him.

"Power changes how people see themselves," Edric continued.

"When everyone around them treats strength as proof of worth, some begin believing it."

"But they still need farmers."

"They do."

"And blacksmiths."

"They do."

"And builders, merchants, servants, and everyone else who keeps them alive while they practice cutting rocks." Edric smiled slightly.

"You have been thinking about this for a while."

"I had plenty of examples." Elara folded the letter again and slipped it into the pocket of her apron. Her expression remained sad, but some of the tension had faded.

"We will visit when we are invited." Sieghart wanted to argue that waiting for permission could mean waiting several more years. However, forcing his grandparents into an uncomfortable confrontation would not help them.

"If you want to go, tell me."

"We will."

"You don't have to worry about how I'll feel." Elara studied him for several seconds before brushing dirt from his red hair. The blond tips of his fringe had become dusty during training.

"You are still part of this family, Sieg."

"I know." The response came without hesitation. Whatever his parents thought, Sieghart no longer questioned where he belonged. His biological sister might become the official heir to House Emberhart. She could inherit a legendary Aura, command soldiers, and receive every opportunity their parents denied him. Elara suddenly straightened as if remembering an urgent responsibility.

"We need to prepare your birthday celebration."

"You really don't."

"We do."

"It happened weeks ago."

"That only means we are late." Sieghart glanced toward Edric for assistance, but his grandfather deliberately looked away. Betrayal had apparently become common within the family. Sieghart accepted his fate. Some problems could not be defeated with infinite mana, and grandmothers belonged near the top of that category. The three of them entered the farmhouse as the last sunlight disappeared behind the fields. Elara began preparing dinner while Edric stored his tools.

Sieghart remained near the doorway for a moment and looked back toward the road. Somewhere beyond it stood the town, the silent runesmith's shop, and the Emberhart estate. His parents had built a life that apparently contained no place for him or the people who raised his mother. Sieghart had spent years assuming their rejection belonged only to him. Realizing that his grandparents had been pushed away as well did not make him feel better.

It merely gave him another reason to distrust a society that measured human worth through combat talent. Perhaps his sister would grow into someone different. She was only four, and none of the decisions surrounding their family were her fault. Sieghart still did not want to meet her. At least, not yet. If that day eventually arrived, he wanted to stand before House Emberhart without needing its approval, money, or protection. He wanted enough strength to leave whenever he chose.

Until then, he would continue training on the farm, one carefully constructed spell at a time. Behind him, Elara began discussing cake ingredients while Edric suggested that a six-year-old might appreciate a new bow. Their argument filled the house with familiar warmth. Sieghart closed the door on the empty road and joined them. The Emberhart estate could keep its invitations. This was already his home.