The Name I Was Reborn to Bury

Elise walked over to one of the stone benches beneath the shade of the lavender trees and sat down with a quiet grace. With a soft gesture, she invited Elian to join her.

He obeyed in silence, the weight of their previous conversation still echoing in his mind.

For a moment, only the gentle rustling of the breeze filled the air. Then Elise broke the silence:

"Elian... there's something I'd like to ask you." Her voice was low, almost a whisper among the flowers. "What kind of magic did you use yesterday?"

Elian looked at her for a moment. He had known this question would come.

"Earth… and wind," he answered, choosing his words with care. "I turned the ground to mud, then shaped it into a spear... used wind to speed it up. Then fire." He paused briefly. "I burned one of their eyes."

Elise frowned slightly, not interrupting.

"You mixed three elements. Created an unstable conjunction. You controlled rotation, impact, dispersion..." She crossed her legs with practiced elegance. "And you're five years old."

Elian lowered his gaze, fingers tightening around the fabric of his pants.

"I practiced on my own… sometimes with my mom," he lied, his voice barely audible. "I don't really know what I'm doing. I just... imagine. And feel."

Elise noticed the hesitation. She didn't expose it—only watched him more closely.

"Feel how?" she asked, sharper now. "How does the energy manifest to you?"

Elian thought for a moment, then answered honestly:

"It starts here." He pointed to his sternum. "It feels like cold water running inside me. It rises, spreads… and when I imagine what I want, it changes. It gets hot. Solid. Like it's waiting for a command."

Elise remained silent for a few seconds, absorbing his words. The wind carried the scent of lavender, mingled with the morning's freshness.

"Do you understand what that means?" she finally said. "Most children your age can barely light a candle with magic. You formed conjured attacks—with precision. Instinctive or not, that's not normal."

Elian said nothing.

Then Elise took a deep breath and, with quiet conviction, declared:

"I want to train you, Elian."

His eyes lifted, surprised.

"As a mage. Not as a healer. Not as your mother's friend. But as someone who sees a power in you that, if left untamed, could consume you."

"Why do you want to train me?" he asked, with a hint of suspicion.

"Because if you keep walking alone, you'll lose yourself," she replied, without flinching. "And because, with the right guidance… you could become more than you imagine. You could protect those you love. And maybe... even forgive yourself."

Elian clenched his fists. The weight of his memories never let him forget who he once had been.

"I spoke to your father yesterday. He said he'd talk to your mother and give me their answer today. If they agree..." Elise looked him straight in the eye. "Would you accept?"

Elian took a few moments. The thought of being apart tightened his chest. Seeing Maria only on weekends would feel like losing a piece of himself. But...

"If I truly want to protect my family," he thought, "this is the way."

"I accept," he said, steady. "But… what about payment? We have no money."

Elise offered a small smile.

"I already spoke with your father. You'll help me with patients, with potions, keep the place in order. In return, I'll teach you everything I know. And of course..." She smiled again. "You'll earn a little something. Not much, but enough to help at home."

Elian blinked. It was more than he had hoped for.

"Alright," he said after a pause. "Then we just wait for their answer."

Elise nodded.

"I'll call Emanuelle to stay with you. You might be apart for some time soon—so enjoy a little while together."

★★★

Night had already fallen over Brumaria when Arthur returned home. His steps were slow—not only from physical fatigue, but from the crushing weight he carried inside.

Maria was in the kitchen, seated at the table with a twisted cloth between her hands. She wasn't cleaning. Wasn't sewing. Just twisting it, as if that motion might ease the storm gnawing at her chest.

When she heard the door open, she lifted her face abruptly. Her eyes instinctively searched for a small redheaded figure beside her husband—but saw none.

"Where is Elian?" she asked, her voice tight with urgency.

"He's with Elise. He's safe." Arthur answered, struggling to keep steady.

"With Elise?" she echoed, as though the idea defied all logic. "What happened? Why didn't he come back with you? And where's Emanuelle?"

Arthur hesitated. Then inhaled deeply and spoke:

"There was an incident. In the village. They got separated from me for a while... and… two boys tried to hurt Emanuelle."

The cloth slipped from her hands.

"What?!" she cried, her heart leaping to her throat. "How could you lose them, Arthur?!"

"Elian found them. He saved her." Arthur's voice wavered between anguish and pride. "He… killed them."

Time seemed to stop.

Maria took a step back, her knees weakening. She sat down slowly, as though her strength had drained completely.

"I felt it..." she whispered. "The moment it happened. I was sewing, and a coldness gripped my soul. A pain that wasn't mine… but was." She covered her mouth. "Emanuelle… they...?"

"They tried. But failed. Elian got there first. He stopped them."

Tears began to fall before she realized.

"My baby girl... what did she see? What did she feel? She's still just a child..."

"I know." Arthur knelt beside her. "But she stayed with Elian. Refused to come back. Said she had to stay by his side. Elise agreed."

Maria shook her head, trying to absorb it all.

"Elian... killed." she whispered. "My boy… he had to do that."

"He did what was right, Maria. If not for him..."

She didn't let him finish. She looked up, eyes brimming, and interrupted:

"And what now? What will this choice turn him into?"

Arthur hesitated. Then answered:

"Elise wants to train him. As a mage."

Maria froze. Then slowly turned her face toward him:

"No."

"Maria..."

"No!" she said, firm, her voice cracking. "I can't. I won't accept this. Not now."

"He needs guidance. Training. Elise saw what he's capable of without a teacher. You know how special he is."

"And I know how much this will hurt me!" she cried, standing. "Do you think it's easy for me? Watching my son... leave? He's only five, Arthur. FIVE. He'll leave and only return on weekends? And I'm supposed to act like that's normal?"

Arthur remained silent. That pain, he could not argue against.

"I haven't decided anything," he said quietly. "I'm just telling you. Tomorrow, I need to give her an answer."

Maria pressed her hands to her face, breathing deeply. The tears kept coming.

"Emanuelle is hurt too. Her body may be whole, but something inside her… cracked. And now you want to separate them?"

Arthur lowered his head.

"I know it's a lot. But if we don't do something… if we don't give him the tools to survive this world, someday… it might be too late."

In the silence that followed, there were no victors, no resolutions—just two parents, bleeding inwardly, trying not to fail the ones they loved most.

★★★

As Elian and Emanuelle played in the backyard, Elise appeared at the doorway with a soft smile and said:

"Your father has arrived."

Emanuelle, distracted by the little tricks Elian was doing with leaves and pebbles, sprang up and gripped her brother's arm tightly.

"Come on, Eli! Daddy's back! Let's go, quick!"

Elian hesitated for a moment.

For one brief second, he thought of giving up his training with Elise. But the image of his sister crying in the alley—and what might've happened if he hadn't arrived in time—sank that doubt.

He stood, walking side by side with Emanuelle—fingers intertwined, steps silent. His heart, heavy.

"She'll be sad... I will too…" Elian thought, melancholic.

As they entered the house, the two of them froze at the sight before them.

"Mom...? Dad...? Anthony...?" Emanuelle murmured, eyes wide.

Maria, sitting at the table's edge, couldn't hold back. She rushed to her children with tears in her eyes, hugging them with the kind of strength only desperation turned into relief could give.

"Mama...?" Emanuelle whispered, her voice trembling—then broke into sobs.

"Thank the gods… you're both safe…" Maria said, her face wet, pulling them to her chest.

Emanuelle's crying came like a flood—intense, muffled, as if everything she'd held back since the alley had burst free.

"Thank you, my son… and forgive me," Maria whispered, her face pressed to Elian's.

Elian tried to stay composed, to hold the tears in. But her words shattered him.

The guilt. The fear of rejection. All of it fell away with that embrace. What remained was only relief—for having saved his sister, for still being accepted, for still being able to call this place home.

Elise's gentle voice broke the moment:

"Let's go to the kitchen. I've prepared something to soothe your nerves."

They all followed: Maria, Arthur, Anthony, Elian, and Emanuelle.

At the table, Elise served warm herbal tea. The room was quiet, as though everyone needed a few minutes to simply breathe again.

Maria spoke first, even before Arthur could explain:

"Elise… thank you for watching over my children." she said with sincerity, bowing slightly. "Arthur told me everything. And also about… your desire to train Elian."

Elise nodded silently, waiting for her to continue.

Maria looked at her son and, with a voice still heavy, said:

"I'll allow it. Thank you for wanting to teach my child."

She bowed again—deeper this time—not as a neighbor, but as a mother.

"Being apart from him during the week will be very hard for me, but…"

"No!" Emanuelle slammed her hand on the table. "I don't want to be away from Eli!"

Elian and Maria had expected this. Elian closed his eyes, trying to stay strong.

"Manu…" he said calmly, "I need this. I need to learn how to use my magic properly."

"But Mama can teach you! She already taught you so much!"

Maria sighed, stroking her daughter's hair.

"I taught him all I knew, my love. Now… he needs more."

"But... but…" her voice cracked, tears welling again.

Elian took her hands.

"I promise that when I come home, I'll show you everything I learn. I'll teach you the tricks, Manu. Just like always."

Elise then gently intervened:

"You said you wanted to grow stronger too, didn't you, Emanuelle?"

She nodded, quietly.

"Then here's my offer: one week each month, you'll train with Elian. I'll teach you myself. But you have to agree to be apart from him for a few days."

Emanuelle hesitated. She looked at Elian, then at Elise… and finally nodded, even with teary eyes.

"Okay... but you promise?"

"I promise," Elise replied with a warm smile.

"Good," she said, turning to Elian. "Since everything's agreed, your training begins…"

"Wait," Maria interrupted, eyes firm on Elise. "I said I allow it, but not yet. Elian starts in a week. That's my condition."

Elise looked at her for a second—then smiled.

"You really are a mother owl."

"I am," Maria said with an emotional sigh. "And I'm not ashamed of it."

"Then it's settled," Elise said. "Elian, enjoy your week with your family. Next Monday… your new journey begins."

Elian nodded.

And in that moment, he knew: the days of carefree childhood were drawing to a close.

But for now, he still had seven days to be nothing more than a son, a brother… and nothing else.