Kieran made his way back home disappointed. Although he was well aware of the fact that he stood no chance against the beast, he still felt like he shouldn't have run. He felt like he should have at least stay back to put up what little fight he could against the beast. Upon making it back home, he pushed the old rusted metal door leading into the living room open and stepped inside.
He kept on walking until he made it to the centre of the living room and stopped. He turned around to face a portrait of his father hanging on the wall. Written underneath the image were the words 'RIP'. Unlike the house itself, the portrait looked well cleaned and maintained.
He then turned around and headed off to his bed room, slamming the door once he was inside. "I wonder what dad would think if he knew how bad I was at hunting?"
Upon entering his bedroom, he sauntered his way over to his bed to have a small nap.
"I'm sure he would shake his head and call me a failure. Hmph, typical…" he muttered under his breath.
Kieran placed both of his hands together as he tried to imagine his magic power coursing through his body, and a faint blue ball of light began to form between them. His gaze shifted towards the ceiling, and without thinking much about it, he threw his hands forward and the small ball of light shot out from the palm of his hands.
Kieran had nothing else to do while waiting for his mother to come back home. Therefore, he had all the free time to do as he wished until then. As the ball of light travelled further upearf in the air, it soon reached a point where it could no longer travel further, and the ball of light quickly vanished into thin air.
"Still can perform a basic magic blast." He said as he got off his bed. "How am I going to grow my magic power now that it's so weak?"
Kieran then walked towards the bathroom to take a shower. As his hand reached toward the bar of soap, the same voice from before invaded his head.
Caught off guard, his hand slipped and ended up tossing the soap right into the toilet. When he realized what had happened, he cursed out loud and proceeded to find something useful enough to pull out the soap from the toilet.
Once he had gotten the soap out, he quickly washed out the outer layer before proceeding to take his shower as usual.
'Make the contract and I will…'
'Make the contract and you shall be thrmkst powerful wizard of your generation.'
Once he was done taking his shower, he got out and cleaned himself before wearing a fresh clean pair of clothes from his wardrobe. However, upon opening the wardrobe, he quickly discovered that he had no clean clothes left to wear.
'I can't believe I forgot to wash my laundry.'
Ever since that day six years ago, Kieran had become quite the forgetful person. He hated the fact that he would always forget the most important things, yet would always remember the most insignificant stuff. He would forget that he had no clean clothes to wear today, but remember that the cockroaches behind the fridge were thirteen in number the last time he saw them. It was an endless cycle of remember and forget.
He didn't bother to wastehis time thinking too much about the laundry, he brought out his laundry basket and fetched some water to wash them all. As he started with the first set of clothes, his mind began to drift to the time when his dad was still alive. Back then he would usually take his son out to buy him whatever he wanted on special occasions such as his birthday or the cultural festivals celebrated in Mistwood Village. However, that was years ago, during a time when he wasn't ostricized by society. Nowadays he couldn't even walk freely through the market stalls without hearing the villager's whispering about him in groups. He was public enemy number one.
When he was finally done washing the laundry, he immediately went back to practicing his magic. Living in a fairly large, poor-quality building with just enough space to put in a family of three with one bathroom, two bedrooms, a fairly-large living room and a tiny storage space for keeping non-essential items. A statue of the goddess was placed in the centre of the living room. Other than a means of reverence towards the deity, it also served as a means of conveying important news to the people of Mistwood village.
His mother would have to pay a fairly considerable task to the village tax collectors on a monthly basis. On top of the table in the living room was a small spell book that contained all the spells that a novice level wizard is meant to learn within the span of a year.
He walked towards the statue of the goddess, immediately pressing his hands together as he offered prayers to the goddess. Despite the way the villagers treated him, he still held a soft place in his heart for the supreme ruler of magic, moreover, he hoped that his constant prayers would one day be answered. The front cover of the magic book was a paperback, weighing about a couple grams. The front cover of the book was in a color that mimicked a shade of gray. In the center, the lone image of the goddess with both her hands stretched out could be seen, coloured in a bright shade of nuance blue. On top of her head was a crown that had eight spikes all around the uppermost part. Also, there were a pair of scales being held on both of her outstretched hands which symbolized balance, equity, and justice for all.
"Let's try that spell again," Kieran said as he flipped the book open and started reading the contents of the page he had turned to.
He began to mimic the hand signs that were displayed on the page.
"This is my one hundred and third try. Chairus Levutus. Let's see how this goes," he started to concentrate as he activated his magic power.
"So far there is no effect." He proceeded to apply more effort into the basic spell, but there was still no reaction even after concentrating for over five minutes straight.
He examined the chair carefully, using his senses to try and detect any magic residue that may be present around the household furniture, yet he could detect not even a sliver of magic residue.
"Another failure. Why can't I perform even the most basic spells in this book? Why is my magic talent so terrible?"
Everyday after hunting training, he would try the same basic magic spells with the hope that he would one day get it right. However, it had been over a long time now, and still, he has been uncle to make a simple chair levitate - something that even the children who had just awakened their magic power are capable of doing.
Closing the spell book, he turned his attention back towards the statue of the goddess and offered another prayer. Even though he had failed St casting the simple spell, he still hoped that one day, the goddess will answer his prayer and grant him power on par with his classmates one day.
Upon finishing his prayer, a voice was suddenly heard in the room bring projected from the statue.
"The peace treity with the Shale race has lasted for ten years now, but international officials are saying that tension is rising once again. Now, we must prepare for another war…"
The mention of war had always been broadcasted non-stop ever since a certain day forty years ago. The human race received a visit from the so-called Shale. They stood on two legs and towered over humans, having the face resembling paranas and skin riddled with scales and the presence of a long, barbed tail that possessed a shocking effect.
With no real clue as to why they suddenly appeared, they immediately demanded that the human race hand over their resources and wanted to use them as slaves. Of course, the humans decided to fight back, but they quickly found out that their magic was no match against them. Bullets couldn't penetrate their skin, and as for tanks, well, Shale have airships.
When the humans were on the brink of defeat, a select group of people came forward - These people had special abilities. They had magic. They began sharing their knowledge of how they came to obtain such power in hopes of turning the tide in the war and thankfully, it worked. Even so, the Shale were still strong, and a seemingly endless stalemate lead to the piece treaty signing ten years ago.
Obviously enough, human greed got the better of humanity, and instead of sharing these powers with everybody else, the higher-ranked government officials decided to keep them to themselves. Only those with money could learn the more powerful spells while everyone else was left with scraps.
It needed to be done. Poverty had taken over the world, but people had powers and were using them uncontrollably, unlike before.
Kieran was born with a weak magic core, meaning that his potential as a wizard is greatly limited. He would be lucky if he ever manages to ascend to the adept stage of his magic power growth continues at this rate. After the incident that happened years ago, he had tried to learn how to use magic since then. His father had given him the novice level spell book as a birthday gift for his tenth birthday. It was one of the last things he had that reminded him of his dad.
"Mark my words, dad. One day, I will become the strongest wizard in the world!"
Leaving the living room, he sauntered his way towards his bedroom. He picked up a long object that was carefully wrapped and packaged in linen. He then remembered that today was his sixteenth birthday. Six years ago today was the day his father lost his life.
"A new sword, huh? I guess I need this," he said as he unwrapped the present. The clear metallic blade was the first thing that came into view.
The sword was brand-new and well brandished. He held the sword by its hilt and raised it up in the air.
He could feel the weight of the sword in his hands, though it wasn't too much for him to carry.
"This must have cost her a lot to buy."
After a while, he placed the sword back on the table and decided to clean up his room. As Kieran began mopping the floors, the same voice from before assaulted his mind, uttering the same words non-stop.
The voice was louder than ever, making it hard for him to concentrate on cleaning.
Kieran swung the mop aside, causing it to fall and the metallic handle to hit the floor with a loud clunk sound.
"Get out of my head!"
The voice persisted, urging him consistently to do one thing. A few seconds later, and Kieran could no longer bear the torment. It was as if the voice held a personal grudge against him. Its voice, unlike before, was now deep and hollow, sounding more like a repeated echo reverberating in a large, enclosed space. Kieran could not even make out the other noises around him, finding himself consumed by the endless ramblings of the voice stuck in his mind.
The voice would cease to stop, tormenting him until he could not bear it any longer. He was finding it hard to resist agreeing to the words of the demon. His will power was failing him, and with that, he uttered the words.
An immense surge of power coursed through his body, overcoming his senses.
Unable to maintain control, Kieran lost control once again.