Vivian was thrilled. He was one year old, he had two divine blessings, and he was ready to become a god tier mage.

  He immediately ran into a wall.

  That night, in his crib, he got his hands on a few kernels of wheat he'd pocketed from the kitchen. He focused, trying to activate his new [Edit] blessing. 'Make it bigger,' he thought, pushing his mana into the seed.

  'Okay,how do i know if it worked? . Maybe I need to analyze it.'

  He gathered his entire mana pool and shoved it into the [Analysis] skill, aiming at the wheat. He was hit with a wave of mental exhaustion, and a single, blurry line of text materialized in his mind.

  He stared at the text until it faded.

  'That's it?' he thought, utterly deflated. 'I drained my entire core, got a headache, and it told me wheat is wheat? Both of my blessings are useless!'

  He slumped back into his mattress. He knew internally that the problem wasn't the blessings, it was him. His First Ring was a thimble. He couldn't power a god tier skill with a baby's mana pool. He had to get to his Second Ring, and Nora's warning about the "wall" of pain echoed in his mind. This was going to be a long, slow, painful road.

  He had planned to reveal his ability to talk in a month or two, to keep up the "prodigy" act. But the world, and the twins, had other plans.

  It was the next day at the Healer's Hut. The place was back to its normal, chaotic state. Lily was trying to comfort the new, cry baby, Leo. Pete was organizing the older children. So Finn and Freya were unsupervised.

  Vivian, crawling on his blanket, saw Finn find something on one of Alicia's low shelves. It was a huge, terrifyingly hairy spider, the size of Vivian's palm, with long, spindly legs. Finn had apparently caught it and was keeping it in a jar.

  'Oh, no. No, no, no,' Vivian thought, his blood running cold. He had a profound, lifelong, fear of spiders.

  Finn, giggling, uncorked the jar. His target: Lily.

  Sneaking up behind her while she was bent over, organizing herbs. "Look what I found!"

  Vivian's in pure, unadulterated, phobic panic, he forced his adult will onto his one year old vocal cords and shouted the one word he knew would warn everyone.

  "SPIDER!"

  The hut went silent.

  Finn dropped the jar. Lily spun around, saw the spider, and screamed. Pete, trying to be heroic, yelped and jumped onto a stool. Clara and Silas just stared.

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  Nora and Oliver, who were in the corner discussing herb prices, froze, their mouths open.

  Vivian, realizing what he'd done, froze too. '...Oops.'

  He looked over Nora's shoulder. In the corner, Alicia was staring at him, her face completely unreadable. Then, a slow, terrifyingly giddy smile spread across her face. She immediately grabbed a piece of parchment and her owl.

  "Take this to Calista." she commanded, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "Fly fast."

  'Oh, no,' Vivian thought, shuddering. 'Whoever she's writing to, they're in for a terrible day.'

  The chaos, however, was just beginning. The spider, dropped by Finn, scrambled across the floor... and ran right over Vivian's foot.

  Vivian's phobia exploded. His carefully crafted secret of "barely walking" was obliterated by pure, primal terror.

  "GAAAAH!" he shrieked, bolting upright. He didn't just stand. He ran. He sprinted across the room on his unsteady toddler legs, screaming, and tried to climb up Nora's leg, desperate to get off the floor.

  The room was now in double shock.

  "He... he runs?!" Oliver whispered, stunned.

  The terrified spider, now fleeing from the screaming baby, made a dash for the nearest cover, missed it in mid air and dropped on Freya's open, screaming mouth.

  The hut descended into madness. Freya gagged, spitting the spider out, and then turned on her brother with a tearful roar, beating him over the head. Vivian, now safely in Nora's arms, watched the spectacle, immensely satisfied. 'Justice.'

  That evening, the adrenaline was gone, but the excitement was high.

  "He runs! He talks! He's a prodigy!" Oliver was still booming, his pride filling the small house.

  He handed Vivian the wool tipped arrows and the small practice bow. "Time to train, my little boy!"

  Vivian, resigned, tried. He held the bow. He pulled the weak string. He released. The arrow tumbled five feet in front of him. He tried again. And again. After ten minutes of not even coming close, Oliver clapped him on the shoulder.

  "That's enough for today, son," he said, picking up the arrows. "You did great. Good work."

  Vivian blinked. 'That's it?' Oliver was a great hunter, but a great teacher teacher that was not seen to this day, who would take it this easy with their students?. 'Fine by me. More time for magic meditation.'

  Dinner was the real prize. Nora had made a savory stew and a small, fried piece of steak. She put the delicious smelling plate in front of Vivian.

  "My little genius," she said, her voice soft. "You don't need milk much anymore, if you don't want it. That is if you say mama..." She pointed at herself. "Can you say it? Mama!?"

  Vivian, faced with the choice between delicious steak and thick, chalky milk, did not hesitate.

  "Mama," he said clearly.

  Nora's cheeks flushed red, and she beamed, pushing the plate toward him.

  Oliver, however, was sulking. He was poking at his own stew, giving Vivian dejected glances.

  Vivian, full of meat and good humor, decided to tease him. He pointed to the door, where Milo was lying. "Millow," he said.

  Oliver's face fell completely. He looked utterly heartbroken. "Millow?" he whispered. "You say 'Mama' , you even say the dog's name, but you won't say dada?!"

  Vivian, sighing at the man's fragile ego, quickly relented. "Dada," he said, laughing.

  Oliver's face instantly broke into a massive, tearful smile. He grabbed Vivian and swung him into a huge hug, his melancholy gone in an instant.

  The next day at the hut, Clara was pestering him. "Say Klahrah! Klahrah! Come on, Vivian, say my name!" Finn and Freya were making fun of her.

  Suddenly, the hut door burst open with a resounding BANG.

  A stunningly beautiful Elf woman stood in the doorway, her green robes embroidered with silver. She was breathing heavily, her boots caked in fresh mud, and her face was a mask of pure, unadulterated fury. She was holding Alicia's owl, which looked very ruffled.

  She marched straight toward Alicia, who was sitting at her desk, sipping tea and looking insufferably smug.

  "Alicia!" the elf roared, slamming her hand on the desk. " What is the meaning of this?!"