The winter ended with a slow, wet melt. The oppressive cold finally broke, and the village stirred back to life. For Vivian, the end of winter meant it was time for his "upgrade."

  Alicia, true to her word, had been busy. She called Oliver and Nora into her private workroom, with Vivian on Nora's hip.

  "It is done," Alicia said, not bothering with pleasantries. She held up a small, unassuming bracelet, woven from dark, fibrous strands. It looked like something a child might make. "This is the new charm. It's a Variable Density weave. It will mask his core's output and actively scale with his growth. It should, in theory, hide him completely up to the Third Ring, and maybe even mask the Fourth."

  Nora let out a breath she'd been holding for months. Alicia gently untied the simple leather thong of the old necklace and fastened the new bracelet around Vivian's small, chubby wrist. It fit snugly.

  Vivian felt... absolutely no difference. But his parents' visible, bone deep relief was a tangible thing in the small room.

  With the new charm secured, Vivian felt a new surge of confidence. He was now eleven and a half months old, and his First Ring felt... full. He'd been cycling his mana for months, his body was stronger, and he'd been secretly practicing standing and walking in his crib, holding onto the rails. He was steady.

  He was ready for the next step.

  One afternoon, at home in his small, private corner, he decided it was time. 'Okay,' he thought, his mind focused. 'Time to build the Second Ring.'

  He gathered his full, humming mana pool. He focused on the 'wall' of his core, and pushed. He was trying to force the Aether into a new orbit.

  It didn't work.

  The mana, with no new structure to flow into, collapsed.

  A sharp, unpleasant tingle, like a thousand pins and needles, erupted over his entire body. It was followed by an intense, uncomfortable flush of heat, like a bad fever. It wasn't pain, not really, but it was deeply, fundamentally wrong.

  Worse, he felt his entire, carefully stored mana pool, the energy he'd spent all morning cycling, simply vanish. Dissipated. Wasted.

  'Months of work,' he thought, slumping onto his blanket, suddenly exhausted. 'All that work, for nothing.' He was frustrated, and for the first time, a little scared.

  At the Healer's Hut the next day, he was sulking. He was sitting on his blanket, trying to slowly refill his empty Ring, when he saw Alicia watching him.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  She wasn't looking at him with her usual, vague amusement. She was looking at him with a flat, knowing expression. She knew exactly what he'd done. She caught Nora's eye and gave a single, one shoulder shrug. 'It's started,' the look said.

  That night, Nora was rocking him, her touch even more gentle than usual. She seemed worried.

  "Vivian, my sweet boy," she whispered, stroking his hair. He knew she was just talking for her own sake, not because she thought he understood. "Alicia saw, you know. You hit your first 'wall' today. It's... it's normal, my love. It happens to everyone."

  She held him tighter. "But you have to be so, so careful. That little tingle? That's just the first one. When I... when I tried for my Third Ring, I failed." Her voice cracked, and she paused. "I couldn't feel my arms for a whole day, Vivian. I was so scared."

  Vivian stopped his sulking and listened intently.

  "Alicia says a failure on the Fourth Ring... it can stop your heart. You have to have a physician right there with you. And the Fifth... she says that's just suicide. No one tries for the Fifth. And the Sixth... well, the Sixth is just a legend."

  Vivian was very, very still. This wasn't a game. This wasn't a novel. He couldn't just "grind" levels. If he rushed, if he made one mistake... he would die. He had to be cautious.

  Spring returned, and with it, life. The snow melted, the grass turned green, and Vivian decided it was time to "reveal" his next skill.

  One evening, he was in the house, holding onto a chair. He "let go" and took a wobbly, triumphant step toward Nora.

  "Oliver! Oliver, come quick!" Nora shrieked, tears of joy instantly welling up. "He's walking! Our boy is walking!"

  Oliver burst in and saw Vivian toddle a few more steps before falling on his diaper. His father's proud, booming laugh was the best sound Vivian had ever heard. They just thought he was an "early" walker.

  He kept his other secret, though. In his crib, at night, he'd whisper. "Fireball."

  Nothing.

  "Ice Needle."

  Nothing.

  'Okay, so the spells i learned from light novels are useless,' he'd sigh. 'I'll have to learn the real spells. But I'll wait to talk. 'Early walker' is fine. 'Early talker' is pushing it.'

  The best part of spring was the return of the noise.

  One morning, the Healer's Hut door burst open, and Finn and Freya tumbled in, already arguing over a frog. Clara was right behind them, scolding them both. Vivian was genuinely happy to see them.

  Silas, the quiet boy, walked in after them. He nodded politely to Lily and then, instead of joining the "baby" group, he quietly walked over to the corner where the older kids (7-9) were gathering for their afternoon lesson with Pete. He had grown.

  Finally, a new mother came in, nervously dragging a small, teary eyed boy. "This is Leo," she said. "He's just... he's just very shy."

  The second his mother, promising to be "right back," snuck out the door, Leo sat in the corner, put his head down, and began to cry with a profound, unending wail.

  Lily, with a long suffering sigh, went to go deal with the new crier. Finn and Freya, seeing their jailer was distracted, were already huddling together, clearly plotting.

  Vivian watched the familiar, wonderful chaos. He was happy.

  That night, he was practicing his (now public) walking around the small house, his parents watching him with loving smiles.

  "He's growing so fast, Oliver," Nora said, her voice soft.

  Oliver nodded, his smile full of pride. "He is. And it's almost time. His birthday is next week. He'll be one year old."

  Nora's face shifted, her expression turning to one of nervous, sacred duty. "We have to prepare. The baptism... I want it to be perfect."

  Vivian, who was mid step, froze.

  'Baptism?' he thought, a cold dread washing over him. 'Again? What god are they sacrificing me to this time?'