A soft wind blew, brushing against Nadran's face as he opened his eyes to look around. His surroundings were dark, as though it was night, and his vision was obscured by a thick fog, making it impossible to see more than 10 feet in any direction. Despite his seemingly eerie surroundings, Nadran did not feel nervous or afraid, and he looked around calmly, his shoulder-length black hair blowing gently in the breeze.
Nadran felt that something strange was happening, and yet, despite not knowing where he was or why he was there, he was somehow certain that he was not in any danger. The fog around him had a strange, ethereal feel to it, and the air itself seemed to contain some unknown mystical quality that was impossible to describe.
Without warning, the mist in front of him started to part, revealing what lay beyond. A massive shadow took form within the mist, becoming more defined before the mist dissipated completely, revealing the gargantuan creature.
Nadran stood in muted awe as he stared at the massive dragon before him. The reptilian beast was coated in black scales, and was over 200 feet long, with clawed feet and gigantic wings. Nadran felt that, by all rights, he should be terrified of this creature. Dragons symbolized the peak of fantastic beasts, taking center stage in ancient legends, with even the weakest among them being strong enough to destroy an army of tens of thousands without much effort. Again though, he felt a strange calm, a sort of assurance that he was safe. The dragon appeared to be asleep, with its eyes closed and its tail curled around it, looking almost like a sleeping dog… if dogs were several thousand times bigger and could breathe fire.
A voice echoed within Nadran's mind, sounding incredibly ancient and resonating powerfully within him. "Greetings, young one. While I'm sure you will have many questions, the connection is tenuous, and I cannot speak for long. I know you have the potential to accomplish great things, and, if all goes well, you may eventually rise up to become even more powerful than me. For now, though, all I can do to help you is to break the shackles that bind you. With that, your future will be limitless."
Even with the strange state his mind was in, Nadran couldn't help but wonder what the voice meant. [Break the shackles that bind me? What shackles is he talking about? Is this voice that dragon in front of me? Also, why would he say this to me, as opposed to someone else? I'm not talented, and there are literally millions, if not billions, of people stronger than me.]
A deep, rumbling chuckle echoed within Nadran's mind, then the voice spoke again. "That inquisitive mind of yours will be your greatest asset. Never forget that, no matter what others may say." At the same time, a globe of liquid formed in the air in front of the dragon's forehead. It grew in size until it was the size of a human head, then stopped, shimmering despite the lack of any apparent light sources. It was composed of a perfectly clear liquid that had no visible impurities within it.
The globe drifted slowly toward Nadran before it bumped gently into his forehead. The sphere suddenly shuddered before it became turbulent, forming into a vortex that poured rapidly into Nadran's head. It passed through with no resistance, as though it was merely an illusion. When it all passed into him, Nadran felt a cool sensation rush through his body, and he seemed to feel a faint sensation of something shattering within him. Then, the feeling disappeared, gone as quickly as it had come. Nadran blinked a couple times before looking down at himself, somehow feeling lighter than before in some intangible way. Other than this vague impression, though, nothing seemed to have changed.
"It is complete," the voice rumbled. "Now go, young Nadran. Go and face your destiny." With that, the dragon's eyes opened, and the world was consumed in a blinding flash of light.
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Nadran woke up in a cold sweat. [What was that dream? I've never had such a strange dream before,] he thought to himself in confusion. [It felt so… real.]
He yawned and rubbed his eyes before looking around and seeing the bright sunlight streaming into his room. He immediately sat up in surprise as he realized how late it was. How did I oversleep so long? Nadran wondered in shock. He was 21 years old at this point, making him legally an adult, and it had been years since he last overslept like this. At this point, he noticed a hastily written note lying next to his bed. He picked it up, recognizing his father's handwriting. 'You weren't waking up, so we ate breakfast without you. I'll be back for dinner.'
Nadran got up, stretching, before he walked out of the small bedroom. A single small biscuit was sitting on the wobbly table, and Nadran sighed as he sat down to eat the hardened bread. The food was quickly eaten before he stood up and prepared for the day. The food wasn't enough to satisfy his hunger, but at least he wouldn't starve. Within ten minutes, he was out the door, walking toward the mountain right outside the town.
Nadran quickly climbed the mountain before he reached a sheer cliff face. He jumped up, grabbing onto a small outcropping in the rock with ease before he dexterously climbed the rocky cliff.
As he was climbing, he noticed a small green shoot protruding from a crack in the rocks. He stopped next to it, examining it before he reached over and grabbed hold of it, pulling it out of the rock it was embedded in. "A two-leaf sillweed, not bad," he muttered to himself before he placed it in his pouch and continued climbing. He quickly reached a ledge and pulled himself up onto the flat stone. This ledge-like outcropping extended along the cliff for over twenty feet, and Nadran looked over to see his mother and sister crouched on the ledge nearby.
"Hi, sorry I'm late," Nadran called out, getting their attention as he walked over.
"Oh, there you are," his mother said with a smile. "We really could not wake you up no matter what we tried. It's unusual for you to sleep so deeply."
"Yeah, I don't know myself," Nadran replied, shrugging. "Other than having a weird dream, nothing special happened last night, so I don't know what caused it."
"Well, you're up now, so it doesn't really matter. Find anything on the way here?" his mother replied.
"Yeah, I found a two-leaf sillweed," Nadran responded, taking it out of his pouch and handing it over. "So, where are we looking today?"
"We've been looking on the stretch up to that ridge over there, and we will look over there next. How about you start here and work your way toward that boulder?" she suggested, pointing to different areas as she talked.
"Alright, sounds good." Nadran said as he nodded, then began closely examining the rock face. "Hey, Sania, how have you been doing today?" Nadran asked his younger sister as he continued staring intently at the rocks, looking for signs of the elusive medicinal herbs that hid themselves within the rocks.
"Well, considering you wouldn't wake up this morning, I would say we got off to a pretty rocky start," Sania replied, patting the rocky cliff for emphasis. Nadran's mother rolled her eyes as they laughed at the pun.
After a minute, Nadran spoke up again. "Hey Sania, look at this!" Nadran called out, motioning her over. She walked over, and Nadran held up an object for her to see. "Look! It's a ROCK!" Nadran announced dramatically, holding up a perfectly ordinary stone for her to see.
"Oh man," Sania gasped, playing along. "I've never seen a rock before. I thought they were just a myth!" They both laughed and kept searching for herbs to pick.
His mother sighed and shook her head at their antics. "He's an adult now, so why does it feel like he's still just a kid?"
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Nadran placed the final herb on the display stand, then sighed before furrowing his brow. He raised his finger and used it to slowly trace a symbol in the air. A faint purple line formed where the tip of his finger had passed, and it gradually formed into a rather complex shape, with crossing lines and zigzags, straight lines and curves. There seemed to be no apparent rhyme or reason to the shapes that formed, and they all locked together in a strange manner. The entire process took over 10 seconds for Nadran to complete, and his brow was beaded with sweat. [Why do sigils have to be so hard to remember? I can barely even remember how to make the simplest ones.]
Nadran shook his head and made a releasing motion with his hand. The sigil trembled, then formed into a glowing white light that floated in the air. The light drifted up with a hand motion from Nadran, then slipped into the sign on top of the little roadside stall. The letters lit up, spelling out 'Four Dragons Herbs and Medicine.' Below it was a stylized picture of four dragons flying in a circle around a purple flower.
Nadran looked out across the busy street, a neutral expression on his face. There were dozens of other stalls along the road, and it seemed that each one was selling something different. There were trinkets and charms, tools and daggers, and everything in between. Occasionally, one of the hundreds of people walking down the street would stop at a stall and peruse their wares, but most passed by indifferently. Many of these stalls were even worse off than Nadran's, and they didn't even have a light for their signs, meaning they had an even harder time attracting the attention of potential customers. The people running those stalls looked emaciated, and they were clearly starving.
Not everyone could cast sigils, and even fewer could afford to attend the classes where they were taught. Nadran only knew how to use them because he snuck into the lectures that discussed them. Sigils meant strength, and in this world, strength meant everything. Strength was the only true law of the land, and those without it would be trod underfoot.
An arrogant voice interrupted Nadran's train of thought, causing him to return to the present. "Oh hey, it's purple-eyes! There he is, tending to his little stall."
Nadran sighed and looked over at the speaker. A stocky young man was staring at him, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. Behind him stood a few cronies, with one being someone Nadran didn't recognize.
'Purple-eyes' referred to Nadran, of course. Neither he nor his parents knew why, but he had been born with eyes the color of amethyst. Such an abnormal eye color was very attention-grabbing. Of course, not all attention is a good thing.
"Who is this?" the new crony asked with a twisted smile, knowing their leader had found a target.
"Oh yeah, you haven't seen him before. This guy can use sigils, but he is the single most incompetent sigil user I have ever seen. He's been using them for years, yet he still struggles with even the most basic ones. He is a true piece of human trash, unable even to be a low slate cultivator."
[Strong words, coming from someone who's barely even a mid slate cultivator,] Nadran thought dryly. Cultivation in this world was divided into tiers based off precious stones, with slate being the lowest, and each tier was further subdivided into low, mid, high, and peak. Of course, Nadran didn't even have the ability to be ranked at all, which was practically unheard of among those who could use sigils.
At this point, Kalio, the ringleader, walked up to the small stall, the very image of self-satisfied arrogance. "Your sign seems a bit dim. Maybe I should help make it a bit brighter," he said, insincerity clear in his voice. With a flourish of his hands, a slate-gray sigil began to take shape. In less than 3 seconds, a sigil, more complex than the one Nadran had made previously, had formed in the air. With a wave of his hand, the completed sigil congealed and flew into the sign. The sign flickered before the light within it went completely out.
"Oops, my bad," Kalio said in mock surprise. "I must have accidentally used a darkness sigil. Sorry about that."
[Yeah right, you just accidentally used a sigil with a completely different composition. Give me a break,] Nadran thought, but externally, he remained silent and stone-faced. Knowing what would make them go away, Nadran suppressed a sigh and began creating a light sigil. They never leave unless they're satisfied, and while they're here, I'll never get any customers… As he concentrated on completing the sigil, he tried his best to ignore the toxic laughter that filled the air.
"I thought you were exaggerating, but this actually the most pathetic sigil creation I have ever seen," the new lackey crowed in delight.
"Look how hard he's trying, too," Kalio replied. "And despite all that effort, he takes over 10 seconds when it should take less than 3 at the worst for such a basic sigil. I can't help but wonder if he's intentionally making the sigils badly, because if he isn't, his skills are really too pitiful."
"Huh, wait, why is his sigil purple?" the lackey asked in confusion.
"Well, have you ever seen an unranked cultivator before?" Kalio replied dismissively. "That must just be the color of unranked sigils."
"Oh, good point," the lackey replied. "I didn't think of that."
Nadran finally finished the sigil, and the sign lit up once again. The new minion glanced at the sign and commented "So anyways, why does this tiny stall have such a grandiose name?"
Kalio responded in a casual yet malicious manner. "Oh, I heard that decades ago, this was a full-sized store that was actually quite influential. Unfortunately for them, they offended the wrong person, and not only was the owner killed, all their valuable alchemic recipes and cultivation manuals were also stolen. Purple-eyes' father had to take over, and since then, it's declined to the puny stand you see today. His father has really driven it into the ground."
Nadran's façade slipped as he glared angrily at Kalio. [This has nothing to do with my father! Leave my family out of this!] He just barely managed to restrain himself from shouting out, but he clenched his fist so hard that his nails drew blood.
Laughing, the bullies went on their way. Nadran took a deep breath, then reset his expression to neutral and continued tending to the stall.