The dizzying headache that continued to plague Rigel for days made it a struggle to drag himself out of bed. It was small solace that he finally graduated a month ago from the basic education system, provided for a small fee to commoners like him, so he did not have early classess to attend anymore.

He was only days away from his sixteenth birth year and although he did not fancy the idea of a fanfare, unlike most, the thought of spending his coming-of-age day languishing on a sick bed was still quite depressing.

His father owns and runs a well-regarded blacksmith shop that has been passed down through generations since the early days after the Cataclysm. He became fascinated with the craft from a young age and was determined to put on the apprentice apron right after graduation. Unfortunately, the cursed illness that began almost a week ago showed no signs of abating and only intensified since.

His father gave him leave from work despite Rigel's insistence. However, not only did working under poor health condition proved to be detrimental, it was also a safety hazard and his grim appearance might drive away potential clients from the shop. So Rigel had no choice but to resign himself to recuperating and reading books on the properties of various metals, methods of tempering alloys, and even the small tidbits known regarding manipulation of rare minerals like Ademantur, Mythril, and the fabled Aurium, which was scarce enough to suspect the veracity of its existence.

Rigel had only seen the gold-like metal once when a wealthy Jarl comissioned his father to use a speck of Aurium and Ademantur to create an heirloom dagger. The nobleman even had a guard stationed at all times in the shop to deter the blacksmith from any temptation of absconding with the precious metals. The idea of his father committing theft was an aburd notion but nonetheless he understood why the Jarl felt such precautions necessary. There was also the possibility of someone else -- perhaps a rival faction or a common burglar -- attempting to steal the treasured materials.

Knowledge about the onyx-colored Ademantur and its unyielding quality as a material for weapons was common enough. In the hands of an Awakened Ein, an Ademantur-infused blade could even cut through the highly durable hide of an Ether Beast.

The lustrous Mythril, meanwhile, is commonly used to create alloys for the armors of rich nobles as a status symbol and for its favorably lightweight quality despite being extremely durable.

However, almost nothing is known about Aurium except for its appearance and immeasurable value. Rigel suspected it had something to do with Ein bloodline abilities though the tight-lipped Jarls were unlikely to divulge such secrets to common folk and he was more likely to be imprisoned as a Niflheim spy if he ever attempted to pry with inquiries.

By the time Rigel decided to put down his books, it was already late afternoon judging by the orange glow of dusk outside his glass paned window. His room was located on the second floor of the house in a quiet section of the city. There were some carriages and wagons in sight but most people simply used bicycles. Creatures used to pull wagons, like bullwars and steeds, were quite costly to acquire and maintain while Od-powered wagons were prohibitively expensive and almost exclusive to the nobility.

He barely noticed the passage of the hours after being completely engrossed in his reading but his groaning stomach reminded him of the need to eat despite his poor appetite.

After forcing himself to consume a small meal of poultry and vegetable porridge, prepared by his mother earlier that morning, he dragged his feet to the bathroom to wash himself. He felt completely drained of energy that he had to steady himself on the walls on his way there. He fought against the malaise with effort and eventually rested his hands on the bathroom sink, facing the large mirror.

The persistent headache still pounded the back of his eyeballs to the point that it felt like they'd bulge out of their sockets. His lethargy worsened and he began to feel feverish. What drew the most concern from him though was seeing strands of white suddenly strewn in with his usual raven black hair.

Despite his miserable condition, he also noticed that over the course of the week, his body was somehow becoming leaner. More muscular and well-defined. He thought it was his imagination at first or perhaps the illness simply affected his perception but now it was much more apparent.

'What the..?'

A loud screech rang in his ears, leaving him stunned, then sudden blinding pain gripped his chest as if a metal orb was suddenly lit ablaze underneath his sternum. The excruciating agony brought him to his knees and choked the air out of his lungs. He refused to take another breath in fear of exacerbating the torturous sensation.

His chest felt like it was imploding which led him to believe he was having a heart attack before even reaching his sixteenth birth day.

'How pathetic' Rigel thought as his eyelids drooped and he drifted into a deep sleep.

***

It was already evening when Rigel's parents arrived. Despite being commonfolk, owning a successful forge brought their family a decent stream of income. Ansel parked the family's wagon on the driveway, turned off the ignition by pulling out a small translucent cube, encasing the Od crystal key inside, from the center of the steering wheel. The hum of the engine died down as the vehicle's headlights dimmed.

Karin stepped out of the wagon first, eager to check up on her son's condition.

"It's just a common cold. If it doesn't get better by tomorrow, I'll take him to a healer myself. I don't think it's got anything to do with what you're thinking. The chances of that happening are quite low. There's no way." Ansel said.

Karin gave her husband an irritated anxious look and strode into the house after quickly unlocking the door.

Ansel was unloading the groceries and medications he bought from the pharmacy -- processed herbs used to treat common infections and mitigate symptoms -- when he heard his wife's voice filled with fear. Feeling immediately alarmed, he dropped the bags, ran inside the home and rushed up the stairs. He found Karin sitting on the floor next to an unconscious Rigel, attempting to shake him awake.

The boy looked pale but his breath was steady. He wasn't responding to their cries but he occasionally groaned in his sleep. Ansel picked him up with both arms and brought him over to Rigel's own bed.

While long distance communication proved impossible due to the atmospheric interference in Vanaheim, short wave radio frequencies over a few kilometers was still possible. Karin rushed from the living room after picking up the communicator there, preparing to dial in an emergency call when Ansel suddenly snatched the device away from her hand.

"What are you doing?!" she said angrily.

"Wait...just... wait." Ansel pleaded, his right arm holding the communicator away from his wife's reach.

Karin was about to give an angry retort but noticed Ansel's worried demeanor, his frown deepening, contemplating...something. She followed his gaze, looking at their still unconscious son.

Finally, Ansel broke his silence.

"Look at him. Don't you notice something...different?"

She wanted to refute his suspicion but she, herself, voiced the same concerns during their commute home that evening.

"His hair" she gasped noticing the streaks of white strands mixed in with his usual black hair. She wanted to find some way to deny it but it was falling too perfectly into place. His upcoming sixteenth birth year, the timing of his sudden illness, the rapid development of lean musculature, the changing of his hair color. He was turning...Awakening into..

"An Ein." Karin couldn't believe the words that came from her. Tears began to overflow as she sobbed, her face resting on the edges of her son's bed. Ansel's face contorted to a grimace at the awful realization.

Had they been a member of a noble house, the event would've been a source of jubilation and celebration. However, for commonfolk like them, it was a sign of impending doom. For them and their child.

Ansel's mind raced at possible solutions. They could attempt to hide him but no sooner than a day would pass until they get armed enforcers knocking on their doors for his son's failure to appear for registration as an adult citizen on his sixteenth birthday. No one was exempt from this since it was a way for the Jarls to weed out bastard offspring of any Ein nobility.

He could attempt to flee with his family but where would they even go? Their son's age and identity would flag them if they try to leave the domain. Even if they managed to sneak past the city's multiple border wall checkpoints, they would have almost no hope of surviving the wilderness teeming with deadly creatures. They'd be branded as fugitives and any town or city within the Jarl dominions will be even more dangerous for them.

In the end, Ansel resigned himself to the only plan he could come up with which had the best possible outcome. He went down on his knees, gently rubbed his sobbing wife's back, and gave her a kiss on her head as she turned to face him, still in tears. Her eyes filled with boundless desperation and hopelessness, wishing they were simply mistaken.

He held her shoulders and smiled. Slowly, with a calm and reassuring voice, he said:

"It's going to be alright. We can still save our son."