Sharen woke up to complete darkness. It wasn't unusual for him to wake up in the dark confine of his solitary box yet this occasion made him wistful. He blinked in the darkness then snapped his finger, casting a light spell. A ball of yellow flame burst forth, brightening the room.
With a sigh he pulled his head out of the box he had been accustomed to putting his head into while sleeping. The headache was there as always. Whatever the system did to him while he slept always left his mind buzzing and his head aching when he woke up. He was bothered what the strange system would do to him in the end but wasn't unwilling to tempt luck. If it meant the only avenue to get to his goal in the end.
This goal—he kept reminding himself—was Khlatus!
Sharen sat up, massaging his forehead till he was sure that he could manage the thumping in his head. Despite his convictions he couldn't help but worry about the price he would pay to compensate the system. Nothing, he knew, in this world came free. Even breathing.
The fresh burst of air refreshed him further as he pushed open the shutters, casting his gaze over the village. Samak had always been a peaceful place even with the recent appearance of Haklarans. From where he stood he could see the townspeople going about their daily business.
They had smiles plastered on their faces, unworried about attacks or raids. His heart sank when he realised the cause of such comfort. The people felt they had a hero with them. They believed in him to protect them from all evil. To them he was a guardian—a god.
It wasn't often that one would stumble upon a mage. It was even rarer out here—aside from the Holy Capital where mages where bred and raised. At times Sharen had fallen into the trap of believing that he was special too. It led him to great pain.
These people…had become like his own. His people yet he knew he couldn't give them what they wanted—what they hoped for. He couldn't give them the hope they needed. He was unsure of himself and his capabilities. He was only a yellow cored mage and that placed him on the lowest rank among powerful spell casters.
He was sadder when he made the decision to leave. Would they still have this level of confidence when he left them? What would happen if, one day, he was slain before them? Would they still think him a hero? He doubted it.
Sharen shook his head, pulling on his jacket and strapping his sword in the sheath. He stepped out of the small house he had been given—part of the village's benevolence. Sharen stopped as the door closed behind him; he turned his attention to the side of the wall that separated his house from the next.
The place, which was usually empty, was now occupied by someone sleeping. Her face placed on her hand as she huddled near the wall. Sharen took a deep breath and walked up to the figure, giving her a push.
Her eyes flew open and she jumped up making Sharen step back slightly. She looked around warily, her black robe fluttering in the morning breeze. Sharen waited till she turned her attention back to him and she probably recognised him for she hurriedly bowed with a smile.
"Good morning, Haklaran Hunter!"
Sharen was surprised that she would address him like that rather than 'The Beast Slayer'. He nodded and pointed out. "That place isn't for sleeping."
She nodded hurriedly, her smile still present. "I know. I came looking for you but it was already late so I helped myself."
"Why were you looking for me?" Sharen asked, folding his arms across his chest.
The lady stepped forward but Sharen stepped back. She stopped, regarding him for a while then she said. "I'm Narene and we met a few days ago. You saved me from a Haklaran in Zejar."
"Narene." Looking at her closely now he could vaguely remember the scared woman he'd seen in the forest, terrified at the sight of the beast that towered over her. He sighed, giving her a flat look. "What do you want, Narene?"
"I want to be your apprentice!"
The way she said it made Sharen shudder in fear. He recalled the boy from the other day who had stalked him only to ask to be his apprentice. He felt dismayed that it would now become a common occurrence.
Sharen shook his head, turning to leave. "I don't take apprentice."
Narene rushed after him, her voice becoming more urgent. "I think I'm over qualified to be your apprentice. I'm a green cored mage and good at sword fighting too!"
"That doesn't make you qualified."
"I know," she said. "But I figured that as the most powerful mage in all of Samak, you could give me pointers and I will in turn serve you!"
"I'm not the most powerful mage, Narene." Sharen said, turning to face her. She looked at him with those big round eyes that reflected the scariest of feelings—hope. He was no mage. No he wasn't.
He had been an ordinary young boy who grew up in a farm with his parents, tending sheep, goats and horses. He rarely got into a fight and that was only thanks to the peaceful nature of Dulhe—his hometown.
He never had the blessings of the gods. It was only after the attack of the Haklarans, and the destruction of his village, that he found—to his pleasure—that he had received such blessings. He was an anomaly. No one could gain magical powers except from birth yet he had defied that rule.
Along with it came the system. He had come to a conclusion that the system was what gave him the magical abilities. Where the system came from, he didn't know.
Narene looked at him for a while then said, "You need to take me in! I'm willing to abandon everything I have to follow you. I want to become a Hunter like you."
"There's a place for you in the Shattered Knights' squad."
Narene shook her head furiously, almost as if that suggestion was an abomination. "I'm not meant for the forge or the Shattered Knights. Have you seen what they do to mages?"
"They train them."
"Yet you are powerful even without training!" Narene knelt down, clasping her hands together. "Please, Master, take me in. I will do everything you demand. Teach me the ways of magic."
"Sorry," Sharen shook his head and stepped back. "I don't take apprentice."
Then he noticed Narene's face become cold and distant. She rose swiftly, pulling out a metal nugget from her pouch then she threw her robe off. She stood before him domineeringly, a frown on her face.
"What are you planning to do?" Sharen stepped back, readying the best spells he could think of.
"I came prepared, Master," she said, tone hard as steel. "Duel me, Master!"
"I don't duel," Sharen shook his head, unwilling to meet her gaze. "I fight."
"Then fight me," as she said that, the metal nugget in her right palm squirmed, shape shifting into a sword with spiky protrusions on the blade. The blade itself glowed green and radiated power so strong that even Sharen felt his defences kicking in.
**Danger. Please, use offensive spells to ward off the attack**
There was no time to cast a spell. Sharen whipped his sword out, parrying the strike from Narene's sword. The force with which she struck made his hands tremble and his eyes dilate.
"You infused your blade with magic?" His tone carried uncertainty but most importantly, disbelief.
"I'm a blacksmith, Master!" she struck again, this time her sword glowed brighter with the magical energy and when it cleaved down, it shattered Sharen's glowing sword.
Looking at the broken piece of his sword, Sharen made up his mind. 'System, activate sword fighting skills.'
**Sword fighting skills, level 2, activated**
It wasn't enough but it was manageable. Using the stump of his sword, Sharen thrust forward.