{As a mage I was, I sought power and power begat evil.}
….
"That was awful. I feel a lot better!" Sharen sat up on the soft bed he had slept on the previous night, yawning. He felt like a very large boulder had been rolled off his shoulders, leaving him drained. He twisted his body and was pleased that the pain didn't respond.
"You passed out." Narene's voice echoed to him.
"What?" Sharen glanced at her. She was sitting on a stool just near his bed, observing him with keen eyes and it made Sharen nervous, his urges running wild again.
"You passed out last night after we arrived," Narene said, standing slowly. "I was worried."
"What really happened?" Sharen asked, finding it hard to believe that he'd fainted after getting treated. He recalled walking all the way to the doorstep but after that, nothing.
"You were tired but fortunately, I was able to force the potion down your throat. It worked wonders." Narene said with a slight smile of accomplishment.
Sharen left the bed, stretching himself. He'd missed the feeling of being able to twist himself however he wanted without worrying about the pain that always left his mind in a daze. His gaze landed on Narene and he noticed the dark lines underneath her eyes and the tell-tale of wakefulness. He frowned. "Did you sleep at all last night?"
She smiled wanly but nodded. "I did sleep enough."
Sharen sighed, feeling inadequate again. He'd forced her to stay awake just to watch over him to prevent any accidents. He appreciated her efforts and concern though he hadn't asked for it. The feeling of having someone care for him, however, felt foreign. In the end he sighed, "I guess I'm not as strong as people make me out to be."
"You're the strongest mage I've known and also the Hero of my village." Narene said, walking to the table by the far corner. There was hot water there and some other ingredients for making tea. Now that Sharen gave a closer look to the room, he found it more like a storage room than a bedroom. It was overly large.
Yet, Narene's statement left him dazed again. He cleared his throat, turning to the shutter that overlooked the street. "I'm no hero, Narene."
Narene paused, setting the jar of hot water down. "But you've helped people before, correct?"
"I do it for money."
"You didn't take money when you confronted the Shattered Knights just to protect the people of Samak. You're someone we all looked up to for inspiration."
Sharen sighed, turning to her. "Fighting the Shattered Knights might have been a cowardly move."
"By doing so, you saved the village." She continued preparing the tea. "You're someone blessed by the gods."
"How so?" Sharen turned to the shutter again, looking out to the street. People moved about, going about their businesses.
"No one has ever awakened magical abilities after birth yet you did that," she said. "Even Fryssel thinks you're special."
Sharen chuckled. Perhaps she was right. He was an anomaly but he knew what type of anomaly he was. Without the system he'd be nothing. He was but a man and an average one at that. Even with the system's boost, he still felt powerless in certain situations. He'd often wondered how the system came about. Was it the gods' blessings as she called it? Was it providence? Was it a curse? What price came with the system?
However, logic argued the most. He turned to Narene once more, a smile on his face. "You too are an anomaly. You were born with a yellow core—no one has ever achieved that feat."
Narene lowered her head, obviously surprised by his comment. She said, "I've always believed that I was special. Chosen by the gods for something big."
Sharen chuckled yet didn't argue with her. She deserved to have her own beliefs regardless of whether he agreed or not. "I wish I was able to save Dulhe."
Narene remained silent, fiddling with the flask of hot water and the cups.
This had been one of Sharen's deepest regrets. If only he'd been strong enough. If only he'd had the system at that time then, maybe, he would've been able to fight the Haklarans. He might have been able to save his people and his family.
Yet, he was a weak boy who only escaped because a neighbour gave his life, smuggling him out through a bag of waste and dirt. The terrifying growls and screams of pain while the Haklaran attacked still rang in his mind.
The door opened and Fryssel walked in, a bag in his hand. His face had his usual smile as he said, "I bought some food by the street."
"Set it on the table." Narene pointed out.
Sharen sighed, leaving the shutter and walking to the table. He had plans for the day. He turned to Narene after sitting and said, "We're going to the city library afterwards."
She nodded, setting out a plate of the food that Fryssel had brought in. "Do you have any plans regarding Goramel? How do we go about capturing him?"
The way she moved, setting out the food, made Sharen want her more and more. Yet, he snapped out of his impulsiveness, shaking his head to clear it up. "Nothing at the moment."
"I suggest we spike his drink or something." She suggested, her face serious.
Fryssel sat at the table as well, seemingly uninterested in their conversation. Sharen nodded. "We'll get to that later," he turned to the boy. "Fryssel, will you come along?"
"Actually…" Fryssel said, rubbing his shoulder nervously. "I was hoping I could sit that one out."
"You have plans?" Narene asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
The boy nodded. "There's this magic gathering that I want to attend—"
"Shokhi has a magic gathering?" Sharen frowned, finding it odd. In one night, he'd discovered two mages who had managed to escape the Shattered Knights' attention and now they have a gathering?
Fryssel shook his head. "Not for mages. It's just a group of ordinary people who gather to share insights on magic."
"Very well," Sharen said, glad that the boy had found something to engage himself with. "But don't stray or get into trouble. This isn't Samak."
He nodded and continued eating in silence.
Narene, too, ate quietly. Somehow, Sharen found himself glancing at her, taking in her delicate facial features and big brown eyes that seemed to hold his soul. Sharen closed his eyes slightly, unwilling to let his desires win over him.