From that day forward, Anya stayed by Mika’s side as much as possible.

Whenever she wasn’t with him, that sense of isolation and loneliness would creep back in.

The feeling of being the only one left out, the only one who didn’t belong.

But when Mika was there, she could almost forget.

"He’s MY Mika." She would declare when her sisters tried to drag him away.

"Anya, we just want to play with him!"

"No! He’s staying with me!"

"You can’t just hoard him!"

"Watch me!"

The fights became legendary. Even Charlotte, who could be terrifying when she wanted to be, learned to back off when Anya got protective of Mika.

The timid, quiet girl became shockingly fierce when it came to him, surprising everyone in the family.

"I’ve never seen her like this." Yelena remarked one day, watching Anya physically position herself between Mika and her sisters.

"She’s found her person." Fauna said, smiling. "Everyone needs someone who makes them feel brave."

—

But Mika’s ability to understand her wasn’t the only reason Anya felt comforted around him.

There was something else. Something she felt guilty about, but couldn’t help.

Mika hadn’t awakened his blessing either.

Anya was six years old now, already one year past the normal time for blessing activation.

And Mika, at five, showed no signs either.

No glowing skin. No strange abilities. No prophetic dreams. He was just like her.

Completely, utterly normal.

Because of this, Anya felt as if they were companions.

Two souls in the same boat, weathering the same storm together.

It made her feel so much better about herself, knowing that she wasn’t the only one.

But at the same time, she also knew how extraordinary Mika was.

He was already super smart despite being a child himself.

He had matured beyond his years, speaking and thinking in ways that sometimes confused even the adults.

He spent hours in his mother’s library, reading books that were far too advanced for someone his age.

Anya knew, with absolute certainty, that Mika would awaken a blessing someday.

And it would be an incredible one. Powerful. Unique. Something worthy of his brilliant mind.

So she was scared.

Scared of the day his blessing would arrive.

Scared of being left behind again, alone in her normality while even Mika ascended to greatness.

—

But to her surprise, that day never came.

Instead, the family discovered something devastating.

Mika would never awaken his blessing. For the rest of his life, he would remain a normal mortal.

The news hit the family like a thunderbolt.

Anya could hear her sisters crying in their rooms, their voices carrying through the walls.

"It’s not fair!" Charlotte wailed. "Why Mika? Why him?"

"Little brother!" Astrid joined along.

Her mother and aunts tried to stay calm and composed, but Anya saw the truth.

She saw Fauna’s eyes grow red-rimmed when she thought no one was looking.

She saw Yelena’s hands clench into fists of helpless frustration.

She saw the way they all looked at Mika with something like grief.

Everyone was heartbroken.

Everyone except Anya.

—

She knew it was wrong. She knew it was terrible, selfish, awful.

But when she heard the news, she felt something completely unexpected.

Relief.

’He’s like me.’ She thought. ’He’s staying with me.’

Anya was already six years old, and she had given up on the idea of ever getting a blessing. She had accepted that she would remain normal for the rest of her life.

And now Mika was in the same boat.

She wouldn’t be alone.

"I’m so happy." She whispered to herself that night, lying in bed.

And then immediately felt sick with guilt.

"No, I’m not! I’m not happy at all! I’m sad. I’m sad for Mika."

But the lightness in her chest told a different story.

—

She found Mika the next day, sitting alone in the library.

He was reading, as always, his small face unreadable.

"Mika?"

He looked up. "What?"

"I..." She sat down beside him. "I heard about...about your blessing."

"Mm."

"Are you okay?"

He was quiet for a moment. Then: "I’ll figure something out."

"Figure what out?"

"Another way." His eyes were distant, calculating. "There has to be another way."

Anya didn’t understand what he meant then.

She was too focused on her own complicated feelings—the guilt mixing with relief, the happiness tainted by shame.

"It’s alright." She said, echoing the words she’d heard so many times before. "Even without a blessing, you’re still amazing. You’re still Mika. And I..."

She took a deep breath. "I’ll stay with you. Always."

Mika looked at her. Really looked at her, in that way he had of seeing through everything.

"You’re...happy about this." He finally said.

"What? No! I’m not—"

"Your shoulders are relaxed. Your voice is steady. You’re not forcing your smile."

He tilted his head. "You’re happy, aren’t you?"

Anya felt her face burn with shame.

"I...I’m sorry, Mika. I know it’s terrible. I know I should be sad for you. And I am! I am sad!"

"But I just...I was so scared of being alone, Mika."

"So scared of everyone leaving me behind. And now you’re...you’re..."

She couldn’t finish.

But to her surprise, Mika didn’t look angry.

Instead he just pulled her into his embrace almost as if he knew that she needed this hug more then he did right now.

And realising that Mika had not only accepted her weak self but also the ugliness behind it, she broke down on the spot and cried her heart out.

—

From that day forward, Anya stopped worrying about her own blessing entirely.

Mika was by her side, the person she loved most in the whole family.

And if he was going to stay normal, then she would stay normal too.

They were a destined pair, two mortals in a family of legends, and somehow that felt right to her.

She kept comforting him, the way others had once comforted her.

"It’s alright, Mika. There’s nothing wrong with being normal."

"I know."

"Normal people can do amazing things too!"

"I know."

"And I’ll always be here with you. We’ll be normal together."

"I know."

She was already planning out their future together, imagining the life they would build.

A quiet house somewhere beautiful. Days spent reading side by side. Growing old together, surrounded by flowers and peace.

These daydreams would make her giggle and laugh, a soft, secret joy that no one else knew about.

In a strange way, Mika’s tragedy had saved her. His misfortune had become her salvation.

The news that had broken everyone else’s hearts had somehow made hers whole again.

And in her joy, she failed to notice something important.

She failed to notice that Mika himself was going through exactly what she had gone through.

The same pressure.

The same expectations.

The same crushing weight of being born into a family of legends and finding yourself...ordinary.

But Anya was too busy being happy to see it.

—

The days went on.

Anya’s life settled into a new rhythm.

She spent her time with Mika, reading alongside him in the library, or working on her quiet hobbies while he scribbled in his ever-present notebook.

The blessing anxiety faded into background noise, muted by the comfort of companionship.

Until one day, her mother came to her with an invitation.

"Anya, sweetheart." Fauna knelt down to meet her daughter’s eyes. "How would you like to go on a little trip with me?"

"A trip?" Anya looked up from the flower crown she was weaving. "Where to?"

"There’s a hospital I need to inspect. It’s in another realm, one that’s absolutely covered in flowers!"

"Everywhere you look, there are blossoms. I remember you saw it on television once and couldn’t stop talking about it."

Anya’s eyes lit up. "The flower realm? The one with the giant roses and the glowing lilies?"

"That’s the one."

"I’ve always wanted to go there!" Anya bounced in her seat. "The flowers are supposed to be so beautiful, and they have that field of star-blooms that only open at twilight, and the river that sparkles like—"

She caught herself, her natural timidity reasserting itself.

"I mean...that sounds nice."

Fauna smiled. "So you’ll come?"

"I..." Anya hesitated. The old fears crept back in. If she went somewhere with her mother, there would be people.

And people meant questions. Questions about blessings, about expectations, about all the things she’d been trying so hard to forget.

But the flower realm. She’d dreamed about it for so long.

"Can Mika come too?" She asked.

"Mika? I’m not sure he’d want to. He’s been so focused on reading the books his mother left behind lately."

"Please, Mommy! Please, please, please!" Anya clasped her hands together. "I’ll be brave if Mika’s there. I promise I won’t cause any trouble. I’ll behave perfectly. Just please let him come!"

Fauna considered this. "Alright. You can ask him. But if he says no, you have to respect that."

Anya was already running.

—

She found Mika exactly where she expected—in the library that had once belonged to his mother, surrounded by towering stacks of books.

He was hunched over a notebook, scribbling furiously, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Mika!"

He didn’t look up. "Busy."

"Mika, you have to come with me!"

"Busy."

"Please!" She grabbed his arm, and he finally looked up with an expression of supreme annoyance.

"Mommy’s taking me to the flower realm to inspect a hospital, and I want you to come too. It’ll be so beautiful, Mika. There are flowers everywhere, and—"

"I can’t." He pulled his arm free and went back to his notebook. "I need to finish this."

"But you’ve been in here for days!" Anya gestured at the library around them. "You barely come out anymore. You barely eat. You barely sleep!"

"Mommy says you’re going to make yourself sick!"

"I’m fine."

"You’re not fine! You’re obsessed with...whatever that is!"

She pointed at the notebook. "What are you even doing?"

Mika was quiet for a moment. Then, very carefully, he said: "I’m trying to find another way."

"Another way to what?"

"To do what blessings do. Without having one."

Anya blinked. "Is that...possible?"

"I don’t know yet. That’s why I need to keep working."

She looked at him and noticed the dark circles under his eyes. The ink stains on his fingers.

The way his shoulders were hunched with a tension that no five-year-old should carry.

"Mika..." She softened. "You need a break. Just one day. Please. For me."

Hearing this pityful plea, despite his work, despite his research, despite the breakthrough that was so close he could almost taste it—

He sighed.

"Fine." He said, closing his notebook. "I’ll come."

Anya squealed and threw her arms around him.

"Thank you thank you thank you! You’re the best Mika ever!"

"I’m the only Mika ever."

"Which makes you automatically the best!"

He pulled himself from her grip with the long-suffering patience of someone who had endured this many times before.

"Let’s just go. And don’t tell your sisters about this. They’ll start dragging me to places as well."

"Of course! Your mine and only mine! I won’t let anyone else take you away!"

But little did they know that this little trip of theirs was going to make one of them suffer a fate that was worse then death—

—while the other had to witness their favourite person being eaten alive.