Flipping through the following few pages, there are a few diagrams I can't hope to understand yet, and a few graphs that mean almost nothing to me.

God damn it, the spoken languages being ones I know made me too confident, and learning a language from no starting point is nearly impossible. I've already stubbornly learned Arabic that way, I'm not doing it again.

Placing the book back in the chest and carefully covering up my art, I was forced to return to my basic magical training. Whatever, progress is progress, whether a foot or a mile.

Lazily throwing my hand forward, I focus on the mental image of a spoon and funnel mana through my arm. After about a second, a small rectangle with a slight bend and curve at the top appears. This practice both helps with mana control, and takes a ton of mana, most likely due to the fact I'm not using any hand signs or words.

I can do at most five of these more 'complex' exercises before passing out, which is interesting, to say the least. Especially since it takes a fraction of a fraction of the mana to maintain the barrier than it does to summon it.

Once a spell is cast, manipulating it is very cheap. It takes a crazy amount of mana to change a barrier after it's already summoned, almost as much as re-casting it, yet I can move it freely through the air at a fraction of the cost. What happens if the barrier breaks? Does it shatter into bits like glass or just dissipate?

If it shatters, can I control the bits of it? If it dissipates, do I get any mana back? I'd test a few of these myself, but what's most surprising is my link to my barriers. Whenever my barrier becomes close to breaking I can feel it. It doesn't necessarily hurt, but it feels awful, and realistically, I don't wanna see how bad it feels when one breaks.

What's so wrong with that huh? One of the books probably says it, so there's no point in hurting myself for something someone smarter than me found out years ago.

Maintaining the 'spoon' barrier, I stick my other hand out and focus my mental image on making a spike roughly the size of my arm. Instead of creating a spike, I got a decently sharp triangle, with the same mana cost as the spoon. Good enough.

Focusing on the spike, I push nearly its entire mana cost into it and send it into the mana training dummy. It launches, pointy end forward, directly into the mana training dummy at a decently fast pace, stabbing into its soft body about an inch deep. The moment it stops, something in me screams at me to cancel the barrier, and I feel it almost shatter.

The moment after the barrier disappears, the arm of the dummy swings down, passing through right where the barrier had been.

What the hell! Jin has to be the smartest idiot I've ever seen. What if instead of a spell, I was a normal kid and like, hugged it? Okay, that might be an overreaction, it can probably detect the difference. Still, danger danger Will Robinson.

Thankfully with the sound of the back door opening, the time I've been waiting for finally comes and my boredom is set aside for a moment.

Standing up and walking out of my room, I see a sweaty Nezu walking into the kitchen. As I notice him, he notices me, I notice him noticing me, etc.

Nezu breaks the cycle of noticing with a small wave and a large smile.

"Well hey there little buddy! Just wake up from a nap, or curious about what I'm doin'?" Nezu asks, taking off his shirt and wiping his sweaty face with a towel. Good lord, he's ripped.

"No I can't sleep, can you tell me a story?" I ask, big ol toddler puppy eyes in full swing.

"Of course! What stories do the fre- your parents usually read to ya?" Nezu beams, hook line, and sinker. I'll choose to ignore whatever word he was about to slip.

In perfect kid fashion, I tilt my head slightly and look up at him. "Read?"

Nezu's eyes go wide for a moment before he chuckles a bit and walks into the kitchen.

"Reading is when people see little things on a page and know what they mean, I'll message Rolia to get some kids' books from our place. I'll have her pick up Brayden from her Aunt and we'll have a little reading play date." Nezu says, taking out a small cyan stone and begins to speak into it.

The other kid's name is Brayden? Don't name your kids Brayden! Also, long-distance communication exists, and is as easy as a phone call. Good, and bad to know.

After putting the stone back in his pocket, Nezu chuckles again and begins to make two different sandwiches. "She's so excited about having a second kid to read to that she's warping there and back. You're about to have one tired Aunt." Nezu says, turning to me with a smile and setting down a sandwich in front of me.

Wait, huh?

By warping does he mea-

Before the thought is even able to perforate, a thud can be heard in the living room as Rolia and the small child I recognize from my birthday fall from about three feet above the couch. The baby is starting to cry and Rolia is red-faced and panting.

Yep, he means teleporting. I guess that explains the spatula trick, another branch of magic hidden from me has been revealed by my so-called extended family.

"Hey- little Aero! You wanna learn how to read?" Rolia says between pants. Book nerd? Previous life as a librarian? Just really really likes teaching kids?

"Hey miss Rolia! Uncle Nezu made me a sandwich!" I say, picking up the sandwich Nezu placed in front of me and holding it up.

"Wha-! Why does he get to be Uncle Nezu but I'm stuck with Miss!" She says with a faux hurt voice whilst shooting a wounded look at Nezu.

"Don't blame me, that name is all him. Scatterbrain probably called me that in front of him." Nezu said, raising up his hands in defense.

"Teach me to read and you can be Aunt," I say, crossing my arms in two-year-old defiance. That gets a chuckle out of the couple and soon after everyone is settled in.

After a tasty lunch of a single sandwich with weird meat and sauce on it, Rolia seems to have recovered a bit and we're ushered into the living room.

Sitting in the center of the living room, Rolia brings out one of four children's books and begins to read it aloud, showing each word as she reads it.

Thankfully, it's an alphabet book, which is literally everything I need.