"Wake up, blind boy," murmured an old, raspy voice.
Lucy grunted. His bed was just a pile of rags over bones. Literally. But Mira had that witchy grandmother voice that, for some reason, didn't want him to die.
"Train, eat, sleep," he repeated, raising a finger for each torture of the day.
"I'm not a kid," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes even though he couldn't see.
"Don't lie. I can smell your fear. That makes you more of a kid than Lya."
He stood up awkwardly, as always. Even though now he could sense mana and vibrations, still objects that didn't move were a problem. He picked up his black blindfold and tied it over his eyes.
Lya was already waiting with a bowl of something warm. Soup? Mud with flavor? He would never know.
"Good morning! Did you sleep well? You were dreaming weird stuff. You said: 'I'm not a protagonist!' What does that mean?"
"It means my life is a parody," Lucy muttered, taking the bowl.
Lya laughed. She always laughed. Even if she didn't understand the world, she seemed to enjoy it. There was something painful about her innocence. Sometimes she acted like a child, yet… there was something else. Something Lucy still couldn't put into words.
That day, training was without weapons. Only senses. The goal: focus the mana and guide it to the core. Easy, right? If you weren't a traumatized blind guy with a sarcastic streak.
Lucy sat on the damp ground, crossed his legs clumsily, and sighed.
"All right, invisible magical core... do your magic," he muttered sarcastically, as if he could intimidate the mana.
And something answered.
A faint warmth rose in his chest, pulsing with a life of its own. He lowered his gaze, even if he couldn't see anything. Mana flowed like liquid smoke, curling slowly around his right fist.
"Well… either I have powers, or I'm having a mystical heart attack."
"If it was a heart attack, you'd already be on the floor foaming at the mouth. Although that would be an aesthetic improvement too," Mira replied from the shadows.
Lucy snorted. But the mana didn't fade. It swirled. Like it recognized him. Like it said, 'this idiot works for us.'
"So, what now? Should I throw a Kamehameha?"
"Not now. Don't do stupid things. Breathe. If you release it wrong, you'll blow your hand off. You wouldn't be the first. One guy even lost his teeth."
"Inspiring. Do you always give motivational speeches?"
"Only to those who don't die on the first day."
For a moment, the warmth in his chest grew. Mana? Pride? Heartburn? In this place, anything was possible.
···
"Why did you help me that day?" Lucy asked later while resting.
Mira was playing with a stone. She took a while to answer.
"Because you needed to live. And because… I was there too. Alone. Almost dead. Waiting for something to save me."
Lucy swallowed hard. He remembered that arrival. The darkness. The cold. And his sarcasm as the only shield against mental collapse.
"Were you... betrayed too?"
"Yes. A long time ago. I wasn't like you. I had power. Or so they said. They called me 'The Sword of Dawn,'" she laughed with bitterness that broke her voice. "But they never taught me how to use it. They just threw me to the front lines."
Silence. Lucy didn't interrupt.
"I was seventeen. The hero promised to take me back if we won. He looked at me like I was his destiny. And then… when I lost my arm… he handed me over to a noble family as a servant. They called me 'the deformed.'"
More silence. Only the drip of water from the ceiling.
"That hero… is he Lya's father?"
Mira didn't answer. But her hand trembled.
"She doesn't know, does she?"
"No. And she doesn't have to know. To her, her father was a good man. And that's how it should stay."
Lucy lowered his head. Not from fear. From anger. Not against Mira. Not even against the hero. Against everything.
"What happened to your arm?"
"I regenerated it. A ritual that cost me more than I gained. But that doesn't matter anymore. The only thing I have now is this—" she gestured around them: children eating, scarred men, Lya— "the forgotten. The children no one wanted."
Lucy said nothing. Just nodded silently.
···
Later, Lya showed him a shining stone.
"Look at this! It glows when I shake it. Do you think it's magical?"
Lucy touched it. Warm. Vibrant. Like it was beating.
"Maybe it's a compass for idiots," he said.
"Then it will work for you!"
Their laughter burst out and echoed throughout the place.
There was a brief silence after the laughter.
Then the ground vibrated.
It wasn't a normal tremor. It was something else… intimate. Like the world had just held its breath.
Lucy frowned.
"Is it just me, or did the ground just shudder?"
Mira, who had just entered the cave, looked up with a tense frown.
"It's not you," she said in a whisper. "It's the Hollow."