‘Getting materials is the first thing I need to do. Because of the hero's and another person's memories, I need Nihilium, which, according to the books in the library, is a useless material; it is fragile and does not enhance other materials when mixed with it.’ Edmund said as he walked to the royal blacksmith with his right hand on his chin.

  When he arrived at the building housing the royal blacksmith, he knocked on the door, which opened. Inside, he saw some weapons hanging from the walls and a man with gray hair and a beard using a hammer to smash a piece of metal. Just as he was about to strike it a last time, the man turned to face Edmund.

  ‘Boy, what do you want?’ He asked?. ‘This is not a place to play,’ and put down his hammer.

  ‘My name is Edmund, and I came here to ask if you have Nihilium for me to play with.’ He introduced himself, lowering his torso as he approached the blacksmith. ‘If it were not too much to ask, I could use it to make toys.’

  The blacksmith smiled as he entered the next room, picked up a box, and handed it to the boy.

  ‘It is useless, but I am only going to give it to you because of how well-spoken and polite you were to me. It took me a while to collect this box's worth.’ The man gave Edmund a small hammer he had taken from the counter next to him.

  ‘This is a lot; I will need to take some trips to take everything to my new home. Thanks, sir.’ Edmund collected some pieces to make the first trip.

  ‘I know who you are, kid; my name is Ruppert. If I am not busy, you are welcome to come and talk if you are bored.’ Ruppert looked at Edmund with a smile but sadness in his eyes. ‘Go to the dining hall to get some food; do not forget.’

  After moving the supplies to his new residence for the rest of the day, Edmund arrived at the dining hall. Getting there, everyone ignored him, while some had sympathy for him. The king had forbidden anyone from helping, talking, or entering the old warehouse; it was pure isolation. It resulted from the embarrassment he caused the king because he couldn’t use magic. Many of them then believed that he attempted to torture the child for being born like this. However, to commoners, he is ?a child you see on the capital's streets, as only nobles can use magic.

  ‘Mrs. It was delicious.’ Edmund smiled at a maid who was receiving the empty plates.

  The woman looked ?expressionless as Edmund put the plate on the balcony and exited the dining room. He scratched his cheeks with his index finger and spoke in a low voice no one could hear.

  ‘They can’t talk to you; they don’t hate you. Wait until you leave before crying.’ Edmund opened the door out of the dining hall.

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  As the door closed behind him, tears started to fall from his cheeks, and memories of Lucia came to his mind; she never once made him feel lonely. Now, those feelings were beginning to sink in: nobody would be at home when he got back, nobody would put him to sleep, and it would be a lonely road from now on.

  ‘Tomorrow is going to be a long day; I have a lot to do before I can show my father what I can do, and then maybe we can both save the world.’ Lying in bed, he grinned while gazing up at the ceiling. ‘It will be fantastic, and Lucia will be there with me, too.’

  The only things Edmund could do for the next few weeks were wash his clothes, talk to the blacksmith, eat in the dining hall, and rest at home while thinking of ways to use Nihilium. One day, he grabbed some of it, asked Ruppert to melt Nihilium with some iron, and put it in a rectangular shape that he showed with sand, other small pieces of iron, and another with copper. Ruppert believed the Nihillium used for fun wasn’t a problem, so he provided the child with some materials.

  ‘I will use this to piece together a toy and show it to you.’ He looked at the small pieces of iron in his hand.

  Edmund gave the blacksmith a friendly smile before hurrying home. As soon as he arrived, he snatched up his hammer and cautiously began writing words on the plate of Nihilium mixed with iron using an iron nail he grabbed while walking from Ruppert’s.

  The inspiration for this idea came to him years ago when he recalled the hero's ability to enchant his armor made of Nihilium and felt guilty that he didn’t share this skill with anyone since the hero only used it for his party. The hero at the time simply did not care to share something as helpful as a method of using magic incantations in written form to enchant the armor and weapons using the knowledge he got from the memories of a person from another world; that same way of thinking was the reason he could use magic beyond the realm of what normal people could imagine at the time.

  Edmund spent the next three weeks building and writing on the plate, stopping to eat at the dining hall. It took longer because he was afraid to make a mistake and ruin everything, but as the sun rose, he finished.

  ‘This last piece can draw magic around it, casting it like a spell, just like a mage. Although it's ugly, it will work.’ He smiled.

  He turned the tablet-like object around, and the front was now black with a green glow on its borders and a white box with “Notes” written on it at the corner. Using a Nihilium-made object resembling a larger nail, he pressed against the symbol, and it opened a black page where he started to write his name on it and draw some other symbols. Using the pen, he taped the numbers in the right corner of the page, and new blank pages came. He used his fingers to press the numbers, and it worked fine.

  ‘With the help of these icons and numbers, I can set up libraries to categorize the notes and drawings I will do.’ Edmund smirked.

  He felt so proud of what he had accomplished as he used the pen to write and draw on the tablet, but he also felt a little bit sad because something like this, which a 5-year-old child could do, should have been used to store knowledge, and it took him only 3 weeks to make.

  ‘Look, Ruppert, this is what I made using the materials you gave me.’ Edmund shouted.

  ‘By the gods, do not do this again. What if I am not alone here? What would they say? Remember, no one is allowed to speak to you in this district.’ He jumped in shock as he witnessed Edmund storm into the blacksmith's shop and turn to face him.

  The boy calmed down and extended his hands, handing the tablet and a larger nail to the enraged blacksmith. The latter looked at the device with curious eyes but had no idea what it was. However, he remembered making this larger nail.

  ‘Write something on it using the pen.' Edmund suggested it while looking at Ruppert’s face, expecting a reaction.

  ‘I am trying, kid, but I am unsure what you want me to do.’ When Ruppert moved the pen across the tablet, nothing happened.

  ‘You can use it, Ruppert; just do it this way.’ Edmund approached the blacksmith's side, took hold of his hand, and drew a circle. ‘See? Do it on your own.’

  Edmund observed Ruppert pass the pen across the tablet's surface. A line appeared, shocking the blacksmith. He couldn’t understand how that was possible; it was like writing on that expensive material he had only had the opportunity to touch a few times in his life.

  ‘It is like paper.’ The blacksmith pressed his chin with the point of the Nihilium pen.