These tiny little spheres are in all sorts of colors. Red, blue, yellow, brown, black, and white. Some more pure than the other. I reach out to touch the brown. Once a sphere is in the center of my hand, this power circle flies into the center of my forehead, yet something in my subconscious tells me not to worry.
My consciousness is transported elsewhere now. I open my eyes to see a never-ending meadow of grass and a plethora of flowers.
"Ah, a visitor. The first one in years, actually. Would you like some nice flower tea? I made the blend myself." I turn to see what appears to be a lively yet wrinkled old man sitting next to a very quaint little table, upon which was a nice tea set. The kettle began to whistle, signaling the man that it was ready. "Come here little one, I haven't all day. Tea is best served hot and fresh, am I correct? I was wishing you would grant some of your time to this old man." I sigh and wordlessly sit across from this questionable man.
"So little one, why are you here?"
"So little one, why are you here?" His face changes from amiable to icy in a flash. "Is it for power? To become my student? To kill me?"
"Your tea,"
"Huh?" The man looks aghast at my statement.
"Your tea is best served cold. With this combination of flowers, it is best served as a refreshment for mid-summer."
The man slinks back into his chair, pouting like a child. "Hmmpf." He puffed his cheeks, now looking similar to a chipmunk of sorts.
A silence falls over us while I just across the pouting man whilst blowing on my tea to cool it down. "You still didn't answer my question…"
"Hm?"
"Why are you here, little one?" Little one? How dare he call me little! I look down at my clenched fist.
Oh.
Oh right.
I'm an infant.
"To tell you the truth, I don't know," I say calmly and take a sip of my surprisingly good tea.
"You don't know—!"
"You didn't let me finish," I sigh and set my tea cup down, "As I was going to say before I was rudely interrupted, sister was having her first testing and I say all these lights floating in the air."
"Little brat, what were the colors you saw?" His tone towards me had changed from annoyance to admiration.
"Red, blue, yellow, green, and some galaxy looking one. Why do you ask?"
"Brat, these lights represent your affinity to the elements. Only mages have the ability, even so only a select few can see them without using their Inner Eye."
"Inner Eye?"
"When a mage meditates and opens their senses they are able to 'see' what you are able to see without even awakening your mana core. In other words, those light specks are mana. A mage must meditate and absorb these into their core in order to use mana. The more they meditate, the higher quality their core becomes. And you, brat, don't even need to meditate to see mana."
The old man's pout deepens, "The colors you saw represented your affinities, and you, brat, have the affinity for fire, water, wind, earth, and space. If some other mage was to find out about this, you'd be stolen. Here, become my disciple."
"No."
"Wha—, no? Why?"
"I still have to return to my realm and I have a few loose ends to tie."
"Ugh, you dumb brat. In 'your realm' not even a second has passed, knowing this will you become my disciple?"
I gave the man a shrug, "Sure, why not."
It's felt like years since I went outside. Ages and ages of horrid and mostly off-topic training. The old man, Vajarn, has taught me to control my space element and also my wind element. "Brat, that concludes our last lesson. As my first and last disciple, I'd like to thank you. You have reminded me of the joy other people brought to me."
"Awwwwww, is Old Man Vajarn going to miss me?"
He scoffs but soon sighs, "Yeah, I will brat…"
I smile at my mentor, one of the very scarce people who has earned my trust. Running at him, I launch my toddler body at him and give him a hug. Albeit a very awkward hug, he still got my message. He tossed me to the ground and pulled a pendant out of his pockets. "Here, take this. It lets us communicate even if I'm not right next to you."
After finishing a lengthy chant, a portal appeared. "Farewell, Crimson King"