They returned from the quest in a state of weary triumph. Oliver and Nora were exhausted from the climb, the cold, and the stress, but they were also relieved. Alicia had the mushroom, and Vivian's future was, for now, secure.

  That night, Vivian was vibrating with excitement. He lay in his crib, listening to the soft, tired breathing of his parents in the room. He was safe, he was fed, and he had a new, divine toy.

  'Okay,' he thought, his mind racing. 'They're asleep. Let's see what this thing can do. Sophiel, you better not have scammed me.'

  He activated the skill, just as he'd done with his mana push. '[Analysis]!'

  He aimed it at the most boring, non magical thing in the room, the wooden wall of his crib. He fed a tiny, economical sip of mana into the skill.

  He felt the mana drain.

  And... nothing. No window. No text. No divine wisdom.

  'What? Did it not work?' he thought, frustrated. 'Did that silver haired weirdo give me a faulty blessing?'

  He tried again, with a bit more mana. Nothing.

  'Ugh. Fine. Sophiel said, "the more mana you put in..."'

  He took a "deep breath" in his mind, gathered his entire, tiny, First Ring mana pool, and shoved it all into the skill at once.

  He was hit with a wave of mental exhaustion, like he'd just taken a three hour exam. His vision swam for a second. The mana was gone, completely drained.

  But then, a single, blurry line of text materialized in his mind's eye.

  ...And that was it.

  Vivian stared at the mental text until it faded.

  'That's it?' he thought, utterly deflated. 'I drained my entire core, got a headache, and it told me wood is wood? This blessing is useless!'

  He slumped back into his mattress, profoundly disappointed. He felt the slow, agonizingly cold trickle of mana seeping back into his core from the Aether. It would take hours to refill.

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  'No,' he thought, thinking about the failure. 'The skill isn't useless. My core is useless. My mana pool is a thimble. I don't need a new skill... I need a bigger core. I need more power.'

  This set his new, long term goal. He had to practice, he had to meditate, and he had to get to that Second Ring.

  The next month passed in a blur of white. Deepwinter had truly set in. The village became a small, isolated pocket of warmth in a world of biting wind and snow. The cold was a physical, dangerous presence.

  Vivian saw the true strength of his new father. Oliver was one of the few men who still went out to hunt, his horned familiar, Milo, at his side. He'd leave in the dark and come back caked in ice, sometimes with a string of scrawny ice wolves, sometimes with nothing.

  One day, he returned with a single, large deer. That night, Vivian watched as Oliver took a full, precious quarter of the meat and carried it over to Thomas's house, the man who had been wounded by the orc.

  'His family's stores are low,' Oliver had explained to Nora, who just nodded, her face anxious but supportive.

  This, Vivian realized, was the reality of the village. They were all in it together, and his family was one of the pillars.

  This new reality also made his "food problem" even worse.

  At the Healer's Hut, lunch was a miracle. Alicia's preservation artifact kept her stores perfectly fresh. He'd eat fresh, crisp apples and soft, creamy cheese. It was heaven.

  But breakfast and dinner, at home, were... not.

  'More salted jerky,' Vivian sighed internally, chewing the tough, leathery piece of meat Nora had given him. 'More hard bread. More pickled roots that taste like vinegar and sadness.'

  He was getting used to solid food, but he was craving real food. 'Why?!' he'd mentally scream, glaring at his mother. 'Why couldn't you just say YES to the magic fridge! We could be eating fresh apples right now! Your pride is an offense to my taste buds, woman!'

  His days were spent in a dedicated routine, eat, look at the herbal guide with Nora, and practice. He would sit on his blanket for hours, just cycling the mana through his core, trying to widen the channel,and do physical practice to build muscle.

  The work paid off.

  One night, a month after the quest, he was in his crib. His parents were asleep. He felt... strong. His daily, constant practice had strengthened not just his core, but his body.

  He put his hands on the wooden rail of the crib. He pulled himself up. He was wobbly, his legs shaking, but he was standing.

  He let go of the rail, his arms out for balance.

  He took one, lurching step.

  He took another.

  He was walking.

  'Yes!' he cheered internally, a surge of pure, triumphant joy flooding him. 'Mobility! True freedom! Finally!'

  He was so excited, he took a third step, tripped over his own feet, and fell on his diapered butt with a soft thump.

  He froze.

  In the next room, the sound of Nora's breathing changed. She was waking up.

  Vivian immediately dropped to his stomach, rolled over, and stuck his thumb in his mouth, faking a deep, peaceful sleep.

  He heard her get up, walk to his crib, and look down. He felt her hand gently brush the hair from his forehead. She watched him for a full minute before, satisfied, she returned to her bed.

  Vivian let out a silent sigh of relief. He could walk. But just like his Ring, and just like his blessing, it was a secret he would have to hide.