Spring had finally clawed its way out of winter's grip, turning the village into a soggy mess of green shoots and mud that slurped at your feet like it was trying to steal your shoes. The hut was buzzing again, kids tumbling in like a pack of overcaffeinated squirrels, laughing and shoving as Pete tried ,and failed, to wrangle them into some semblance of order. The older crew from my first days here, the ones who'd eyed me like a weird potato, were history, off doing grown up stuff like hauling hay or whatever villagers did when they hit double digits. Pete looked a bit deflated about it at first, like he'd lost his favorite toys, but he bounced back, taking over Lily's mid kid squad, the dynamic duo of Finn and Freya ,prank engines at full throttle, Clara ,still bossing everyone with her weird facts,, and Silas , quiet as ever, solving puzzles that made my adult brain itch with envy.

  Lily had "promoted" to solo duty with Leo, the kid who'd shown up last year as a walking waterfall. No more nonstop sobs he'd adapted like a pro, now just your average 6 year old chaos machine, stacking blocks into teetering towers, chasing butterflies with a stick, and only throwing fits when his snack was delayed. "Good job, Leo!" Lily cooed, high fiving him after a particularly epic block castle. Leo beamed like he'd conquered the world. Me? I was just happy for the extra distractions , which meant more time to zone out and ponder my late night discoveries without Nora helicoptering over me every five seconds.

  Speaking of which, my mind was still reeling from last night's axe session. I'd Glossed two more runes before calling it quits ,mana drain was no joke , felt like chugging a battery acid smoothie. But when I Analyzed the enchantment, Bam ,a window popped up noting half the "runes" were inactive. Fake. Painted on with normal ink to throw off copycats. Smart move by the smith ,hide the real enchantment in a mess of decoys. Cut the actual runes in half, but since the fakes were still shaped like legit symbols, I could Gloss 'em all. I was almost done decoding the lot. By mid summer, I'll have the full blueprint. Custom axes? OP weapons? Yes please. I daydreamed about it during Pete's lesson, ignoring the alphabet chants around me.

  That's when I noticed the new girl, Mira. Bouncy pigtails, frilly dress that screamed "spoiled," and a face like she'd swallowed a lemon when no one cooed over her entrance. She flopped dramatically during circle time: "Look at meeee!" Pete blinked: "Uh, join the song, Mira?" Nada. She tried knocking over Leo's blocks Leo just shrugged and rebuilt, unfazed. Twins ignored her like she was invisible. Clara out shouted her mid rant: "Actually, that's not how you play , rules say..." Silas? Buried in his puzzle, oblivious as a rock.

  Mira's cheeks puffed redder than a tomato. She zeroed in on me getting a high five from Finn for "stacking" (okay, knocking over) some toys. Jealous much? I thought, not caring enough to engage. Kid drama. Pass. Back to rune math, if fake runes are 2/3, then real enchantment is...

  By lunch, Mira had melted down , no hugs, no "awws," just a huff and a stomp out the door. "Nobody likes me!" she wailed on the way. The hut collectively eye rolled. One hit wonder, I smirked internally. Attention vampires don't last long here.

  Mid day, Oliver swung by like clockwork, axe slung over his shoulder, grinning ear to ear. "Lunchtime, champ!" Nora packed us up, and off we went to the merchants, same as last year, carts creaking under piles of tools, fabrics, and trinkets. Oliver haggled like a pro, trading wolf pelts for salt and a new knife. Nora swapped herbs for thread. But I caught them sneaking glances at toys, whispering about "presents." Birthday incoming. Score.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  They showed me brightly painted blocks and a stuffed bear. Cute, but nah, I wanted spices. Memories of last year's merchant flooded back, black pepper, turmeric, garlic, those divine barberries. Zereshk polo dreams... I scanned the carts eagerly, and my heart sank. No spice guy. His colorful baskets? Gone. Replaced by some boring tool peddler. What? Nooo!

  Plan B: a real bow. After all those afternoons with Oliver, him cheering my pathetic plops like Olympic golds .I kinda liked it now. Felt... empowering. I pointed at a small hunting bow on a cart, gurgling "Bow! Want!"

  Oliver lit up: "Atta boy! Hunter's heart!" But Nora? Arms crossed, foot tapping. "Absolutely not. He's two! What if he shoots his eye out? Or pokes Milo?"

  "But Nora, it's safe, blunt arrows, I'll supervise..."

  "No!"

  Cue the waterworks. I wailed like a pro ,half fake, half spice grief, drawing stares from villagers. After eternal begging ,and more tears, compromise, a slingshot. Tiny, wooden, with rubbery string. "For pebbles only!" Nora warned. Oliver winked, "We'll practice." I pocketed it, grumbling internally. Slingshot? Lame. But better than blocks.

  Home for dinner, simple stew and bread, but after winter's jerky hell, it tasted like gourmet heaven. Warm, savory, with actual flavor. Holy herbs, Batman. Nora beamed: "What do you want for your birthday next week, sweet boy?"

  Opportunity! The kids had been chattering about spring scavenging , heading to the jungle edge for berries and herbs, sticking to patrolled spots. Perfect chance to scope the world beyond mud huts. "Go... jungle! With kids!"

  Nora's face fell. "No, absolutely not. You're only two! Too dangerous , even the edge has beasts!"

  Oliver chimed in: "Aw, Nora, they stay grouped, patrols watch. It's safe, builds character!"

  "Too early! Maybe next year, if you're a good boy." Nora was immovable, eyes firm.

  I pouted ,real this time, but no dice. Dang mom shield. World exploration, delayed.

  That night, no Gloss . Instead, I snuck to the axe, Analyzed every rune one by one. Panels popped:

  And so on.

  Noted each in my book, real vs. fake. Then redrew just the active enchantment. Boom, only one third real runes. The rest? Clever fakes to mislead thieves. Genius smith. But now I've got the pure version. Weapon hacks incoming.

  Next day at the hut, door bangs open mid song. In storms Mira, smug as a cat with cream, hand in hand with Elder Harlan , the prayer guy from my birthday, beard like a wild bush, eyes thunderous.

  They beeline for Alicia. Harlan bellows: "What did you do to my Mira?!"