Chapter 7: The Potion and the Starry Void

"Ichika, Astranovual means to connect to the star. The star is within our eyes," his mother explained, adding, "What we call vision is one aspect of this. Everyone has eyes, but not everyone can be an Astranovual. Do you understand?"

"So, the eye," he pointed to his own eyes, "is the thing that can make us an Astranovual?" he questioned, struggling with the concept of eyes granting extra abilities.

"No, the eyes we see with are just eyes. But when I said the Eye, I meant that not everyone can see from other parts of the body," she clarified. Seeing the confusion on his face, she sighed inwardly, What did I expect? He's a child.

"Ichika, think of it this way," she continued, "Close your eyes and try to see from your elbow. Can you do it?" She used a simpler analogy, explaining that normally, you can't see from your elbow because there's no vision there.

Ichika closed his eyes and tried to imagine seeing from his elbow. But there was nothing, no black, no white, just… nothing. He gave up. "No, I can't do it," he admitted.

"Now do you understand? We can't see because we only know it exists in our heads. What if you could see without your eyes?" she posed, a thought-provoking question.

"So, if we can see without eyes—that means we have extra eyes to see more!" he exclaimed, finally grasping the concept, albeit a bit slowly. He understood that there were three concepts: the ability to see extra vision, the possession of the Eye, and the power that came with it. "So, how do we get this Eye?" he asked, eager to gain this power.

"I don't know, honey. It's believed that to gain the power, you must drink a potion. The Potion of Life," she said. "I'm not even sure myself. It was so long ago that only Mom said she had seen it as a child once." She added this last detail.

"Oh…" Hearing this, his hope dwindled. If his mother said that their mother had only seen it once as a child, that meant it was last seen 20-40 years ago. That timeframe was too long. Maybe he wouldn't learn the secret until he was 10-20 years old.

"But that's okay, Ichika. The abilities from the God Blessing can be enhanced. They aren't set limits," she reassured him, trying to comfort him about losing the chance to become an Astranovual.

"How?" he asked, his interest immediately rekindled. He could now potentially improve his thread ability, which was currently basic—limited in extension, retraction, and thickness.

"Well, it's a bit complicated, but to do this, you must first master everything the ability has to offer before you can gain a new ability," she answered. She herself had only managed to master one ability in her eight years of receiving God Blessings.

"…well—" he trailed off. Today was the most disappointing day since his birth. Not only had he gained two new insights, but he had gained nothing useful from them. It felt like a waste of time. "I'll just practice my thread ability then," he said, his voice low.

His mother, watching him, decided to do nothing. He would get over it soon enough. There was no need to comfort him; it wouldn't help. She had learned this from experience when their mother had tried to comfort her after she received her God Blessing. They had tried hard, but it hadn't worked.

In the end, they had left her alone to process her feelings. When children were sad, they needed time to adjust on their own. That was how she coped, and now, seeing Ichika going through something similar, she knew exactly what to do.

Ichika quietly practiced his thread ability. Sometimes, he daydreamed while watching the clouds and accidentally tangled his threads, requiring his mother's help to untangle them. This wasn't a frequent occurrence.

Eventually, Ichika grew tired of the same routine. What if I throw the thread? he thought. Technically, he could hit a target, just like throwing a rock. By combining the ability to extend the thread with his body movement, he should be able to extend it and hit a target.

Ichika glanced at his mother, sound asleep on the mat. He didn't want to disturb her. He slowly positioned one foot back, turned sideways, and looked directly at a tree less than 50cm away. They were under the shade of the tree, after all. How else could they stay outside without getting a Sal burn? Aligning himself with the tree, he pushed his leg forward and extended his hand toward the tree. The thread immediately flew toward the tree, but stopped before it reached.

"Huh? Why did it stop?" he asked himself. There should have been enough energy to reach it.

"Maybe because I'm too far away," he reasoned. He moved closer to the tree and tried again. This time, the thread reached. Ichika now had a new goal: using his ability to grab and throw things with his thread. But first, he needed to learn how to use his thread without any attachments.

Ichika continued practicing his throwing technique. He learned a few things. First, his thread was too light; air resistance stopped it from traveling far. Second, to grab things, he would need to throw the thread from the side, like a whip. These were the basics he learned without any attachments.

Maybe he could do better with an attachment, but he first needed to master his thread like his own body. If he mastered using an attachment, what would he do if it broke?

When the Sal began to set, they went back inside the house. This was how the day ended for Ichika and his mother. He had learned a lot.

"Filthy fool," a harsh voice whispered.

"Get up!!!" the old, raspy voice of a woman shrieked. She stood beside a woman lying on the floor, her brown hair tangled and her clothes torn. The old woman kicked the prone figure in the stomach. "Didn't you hear me say get up!" she yelled again.

The woman on the floor remained silent, suppressing the wave of pain that washed over her. She had no choice but to obey. Slowly, she pushed herself up, using her hands for support. Her legs were weak, and when she finally stood, she saw blood trickling down her leg.

"Good! Get to work! Don't you dare make me come back here again!" The old woman, satisfied, turned and left the room.

The room was dark, constructed of brick. A single candle flickered in the corner, the only source of light at night. During the day, the Sal light provided natural illumination, but at night, visibility was poor.

Inside the room was a chair and a desk. On the desk sat a sawing machine. The woman's job was to saw wood, sometimes spending an entire day on a single piece.

She walked to the desk, sat in the chair, and began her work. The sawing motion was arduous, requiring significant effort. Under normal circumstances, she would have become proficient, but she lacked the necessary strength. She had no choice.

"Just two more weeks," she muttered weakly, sawing the wood. Then, a thought struck her. "Wait, doesn't she own the potion?" She remembered the potion she had hidden.

Abandoning her work, she no longer cared about the consequences. "Thank you, bitch," she whispered. She had to thank the woman who had kicked her; otherwise, she wouldn't have remembered the potion.

She walked to the corner where the candle flickered and pulled a brick from the wall. Inside was the potion. "My baby, I'm sorry I forgot about you," she said, cradling it in her hand.

The potion was small, about the size of a handball. She removed the lid, a red wax seal. An overpowering smell filled the room—a stench of mud, decay, and despair. "This thing is shit," she said, bringing it to her lips.

"Erg!" The smell was nauseating, but she forced herself to continue. Finally, she managed to take a sip. "Eugh! Oh god, this thing tastes bad!" she complained, but she had to finish it.

The process was revolting, and she almost gave up, but she knew this was her only chance.

The world around her slowed. Her eyes tracked dust motes floating in the air. The air itself seemed to solidify, forming shapes. The shapes were indistinct, but she perceived everything in the room as geometric forms.

She looked at the potion again. Its shape had changed, now a block filled with vibrant colors.

She couldn't speak, overwhelmed by the distorted perception. "How do I turn this off?" she asked herself. She knew there would be a price for this. "Maybe I'll just leave it on!" she decided, since she didn't know how to control it.

But she tried anyway. She closed her eyes. "Huh? It's normal again." The shapes disappeared, and she saw the world as it was. She opened her eyes, and the shapes returned. Closing them, the world reverted to normal.

"Now, what else does this potion do?" she wondered. She