Sigrika

"I'm back..."

The moment Sigrika closed the door, a round Kronapuff that could've been a ball launched itself into her arms, sending her stumbling back two steps.

"Hey, Crackle! Did you have fun at home?" she laughed, steadying herself. "You look bigger again. Have you been eating too much? Alright, alright, let go of me! Where's Mother? Wait, don't tell me. My nose already knows."

She dashed into the kitchen. The fatigue of the journey melted away the instant she spotted the pot of rich, bubbling Smoked Meat Stew.

"You're back?" her mother glanced over. "Look at you, filthy from head to toe. Off chasing birds with your friends again, were you? In a few days, you will receive the Reactor Drive's blessing. After that, you'll be considered a grown-up. A Solsworn can't be seen running around like that."

"No, no! I was helping Aunt Astrid with her herd. That doesn't count as running around."

Her mother reached out and pinched her cheek. Sigrika winced and scrunched up her face. It only made her mother's smile soften.

"Alright, alright. Go wash your hands. We'll eat once your father gets home."

"Okay!"

Sigrika grinned. She washed her hands carefully, then took the plates and utensils from the cupboard and laid them out neatly on the table.

When her father returned, their small home welcomed a dinner that wasn't lavish, but was warm enough to fill the room.

At the table, Sigrika counted the little gifts her father had brought back—flower crowns, hairpins, clear bits of glass, and a few small blocks whose purpose she couldn't quite guess. As she tucked them away, her mother sighed and began to complain about his buying strange trinkets again. Her father scratched his head, fumbled for an explanation, then, catching Sigrika's eye, seized his chance to change the subject.

"So, feeling confident about the coming Trial?"

"Of course," Sigrika answered without hesitation.

She liked this. Being with her family. Even when her parents nagged and rambled, she never felt annoyed. She knew, deep down, that all of it came from love and their high expectations for her.

Her parents wanted her to become an outstanding Solsworn. They hoped she would use her talent to help others, and more than that, they hoped she would grow into an outstanding person. Sigrika knew how to live up to those expectations. That was why she studied runes every day. Learned something new every day. Even when exhaustion crept into her bones.

Still, as the Trial drew closer, she couldn't help but feel nervous.

"It's alright," her parents said. "Our little Sigrika will pass with flying colors. After that, you'll be heading to Startorch Academy. That place has trials of its own waiting for you."

"Mhm!" Sigrika nodded, pushing her anxiety out the front door along with the dust of the road. For now, she would just enjoy dinner. After all, the stew really smelled good.

"Oh, right, Mother," she added suddenly. "Has Crackle put on weight? I could barely pick it up."

"Ask your father."

"Papa?"

"Haha… I might have... fed it a bit more than a little."

The rune unfolded before her eyes, like a sun rising into the sky.

Few people knew that runes were never meant to be flat symbols, but something with great depth—just like what she was witnessing now. This small sun rose and unfurled, spilling its light freely and generously onto everything around it.

Sigrika watched in silence. If she were asked to explain what was happening, she would just say that runes carry meaning. She was only interpreting that meaning and allowing it to manifest in the world.

"Only?" she thought to herself.

People called it her gift. As if she had been born able to read the True Names of runes, born able to draw on the power sealed inside them. And so, of course, she could apply this gift elsewhere, like calculating the paths of the stars, fulfilling everything a Solsworn was expected to do.

But... that was all it was. A gift.

A gift meant that this was the one place where she could give her all and nowhere else. She could recreate the True Names of runes, but she could not truly understand their essence. Why did runes hold such immense energy? What were those fleeting visions she sometimes glimpsed when touching them? And when she deciphered runes, what were those syllables hinting at, the ones she heard but could never understand?

She didn't know.

Standing here now, waiting to be marked with the "blessing of the Reactor Drive," she held a quiet hope: that once the blessing was imprinted onto her, once she crossed this threshold into adulthood, understanding would come naturally to her. But of course, it didn't.

The rune merely unfolded before her eyes. Nothing more. Even if it shone like a sun.

This was what being "gifted" meant. It meant that it ended here and only here. Anything beyond that, she would have to seek out herself. See it for herself. Think it through on her own.

Even now, when she had no answers at all.

Even if this gift felt like a shadow cast upon her by some greater entity.

The frostlands.

Sigrika exhaled softly, a plume of white drifting into the air as she watched the herderless Exoswarm roaming in the distance.

She had been trailing them all night.

It had taken her hours to pull the Exoswarm out of their extreme agitation. Now, they wandered the frostlands in loose, aimless loops, but Sigrika knew this was not a good sign. Something in their command and navigation units had malfunctioned, leaving them to trace one pointless circle after another. And sooner or later, without warning, they would spiral back into a frenzied rampage. When that happened, the nearest Royan settlement would be the first to suffer.

It was a riddle. And she didn't have much time left to solve it. But that was fine. She was ready.

"These True Names… Illuminate."

The next instant, runes flared to life across the Exoswarm, then detonated. The aimless circling stopped. And in its place came rage. The Exoswarm recalibrated as one, locked onto Sigrika, and charged.

Their thunderous steps shattered the silence of the frostlands. The ground trembled beneath them. Sigrika tightened her grip on her dagger and began tracing runes in the air.

Calm. Focus. These were the absolute requirements when drawing and deciphering runes. Stroke by stroke, the runes formed before her. And all the while, the Exoswarm bore down, their fury heating the very air, melting the snow beneath their pounding steps.

Three... They carved deep, stretching grooves across the ice. Runes flickered on their bodies, but did nothing to slow them down. Driven by the single command to charge, they only accelerated, faster and faster—

Two... Sigrika tapped the final point with her blade. She vanished. At almost the same instant, every rune on the Exoswarm ignited, and Sigrika slipped between them, shuttling through their ranks on the paths her runes had carved.

One! The rune trap activated. Chain explosions erupted. Wind blades tore through the Exoswarm, cutting off their advance. And at the center of it all, Sigrika's dagger found its mark—the key to the riddle. When the shockwaves finally faded, she landed lightly, pulled forward by a Soliskin. Behind her, the Exoswarm herd that had raged all night finally fell silent, and the last rune clenched in her fingers scattered into specks of starlight.

"That was… close."

If not for Soliskin steadying her, she would have collapsed right there. Her hands were still trembling. Her heart hammered against her ribs. She knew why. The most important rune had never lit up. It hadn't responded to her deciphering. It hadn't worked at all. If the pre-set traps hadn't triggered exactly as calculated… If the wind blades had been even the slightest bit weaker…

In that moment, she understood her limits. And she understood that the gift she relied on was far from omnipotent. There would be times when runes could not be deciphered. Her gift, too, had boundaries.

And this—only this—was what she had to rely on. She had to read the runes correctly. Because if she made even a single mistake, everything would turn out differently.

No one said those words to her. So now, she said them to herself.

She stood still.

Students streamed past her, some eagerly debating club activities, some rushing to class, others grumbling about the weight of their coursework. They flowed past her into the Academy in an endless current, a stream that didn't seem to run dry.

And there she stood among them. A stake driven in place, struggling just to hold her ground.

This was the new life waiting for her.

Sigrika jolted awake. It took her a moment to realize she wasn't home anymore. She was a freshman at Startorch Academy.

What awaited her wasn't just runes. New courses. New knowledge. New people. A buffet of novelty lay spread before her. But the light of it all cast shadows. Heavy ones.

She still hadn't found her footing here. Just yesterday, working as a teaching assistant for the first time, she had been asked to explain Royan customs to her classmates. Halfway through, a strange confusion and pressure had washed over her, something she had never felt before. Two days ago, she hadn't even known how to make TARD-E stop its incessant singing. And before that…

She had stood at the Academy gate, watching people pass by, unable to decide which way to go.

All of it was new. Vast. Overwhelming. Unlike runes, these things weren't built from points and lines. They offered her no familiar handholds.

Sigrika threw off the covers and sprang out of bed. She washed up quickly, then gathered her things: the notes she had organized yesterday, her Bionics assignment, the preview materials for Ecology and Communications, and...

Moments later, arms full of books, she hurried out the door and merged into the stream.

She would bite into these shadows. She would find their shape, their structure. And she would wrest the knowledge from inside.

Sigrika stood at the front door of her childhood home, her hand resting on the handle. She didn't open it for a long time.

Ah... It was still hard. Hard to say everything out loud, to admit how tired she was, how unhappy. Even facing her own family, she found it difficult.

Or maybe... it was because they were her family that made it so hard.

After all, she didn't want them to worry.

"It's okay," she comforted herself. "If I can't even face my own family, how can I ever face myself?"

At last, she made up her mind and reached to turn the handle—but the door swung open on its own.

Her mother stood there, looking at her with helpless fondness. "Why didn't you come in?"

"Mother..."

"What's wrong?" her mother asked gently. "You've been out there for so long. Did something happen that you're afraid to tell me?" She smiled softly. "It's alright, we can take our time."

Sigrika stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her.

Something inside her crumbled all at once. Maybe it was the wall she had built, brick by brick, stone by stone, between herself and her family. Built from her pride. Her exhaustion. Her love. She had wanted so badly to be someone they could be proud of, so she never spoke of how tired she was. Never let it show. But now… she felt that she finally could.

"I've met some friends," she began. "Really good friends."

And there was so much more she wanted to tell them.