ARIN ARCTBENDER
The first time I held my son, I felt a warmth unlike any other, a light that pierced through the darkness of our world. "Welcome, my dear Hiro," Lilia whispered beside me, her voice trembling with emotion as she cradled our newborn. His small hand wrapped around my finger, his grip surprisingly strong for one so tiny. I could feel it in my bones—this child was special.
The world outside was harsh, unforgiving, but here, in this moment, nothing mattered except the life we had brought into it. I glanced at Lilia, my heart swelling with love and hope. We would protect him, nurture him, and give him the life we had always dreamed of. He would be our legacy, a beacon of light in a world filled with shadows.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Hiro grew, his laughter filling our modest home in the village of Althoria, nestled deep within the Cyrandel Dominion. The village was a place of peace, where craftsmen like myself and healers like Lilia lived simple, yet fulfilling lives. The air was thick with the scent of pine from the surrounding forests, and the distant peaks of the Aetherial Mountains stood tall against the sky, their tips always shrouded in mist. Magic was a part of our lives here—woven into the very fabric of our existence. It was in the way the trees whispered, in the gentle hum of the mana streams that flowed beneath the earth.
Every evening, as the sun dipped behind the mountains, casting long shadows over the village, I would tell Hiro stories of the world beyond. I told him of the great Magic Warriors, those who could command the elements and bend them to their will. I wanted him to know that the world was vast, filled with wonders beyond our little village.
"Someday, you might become one of them," I would say, ruffling his dark hair as he gazed up at me with wide, curious eyes.
Lilia would smile at us from across the room, her hands busy with her herbs and potions. "He has your spirit, Arin. He'll do great things, I can feel it."
But as Hiro grew, so did the weight on my heart. I watched him carefully, noting the small signs that all parents looked for. By the time he was six, the village children were beginning to show their mana—little sparks of power that would define their futures. I hoped, prayed, that Hiro's would be strong. But as the day of his awakening drew closer, my hopes began to waver.
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Narrator POV
The day of Hiro's mana awakening was one filled with both anticipation and dread. The village gathered as they always did for such an occasion, the elders standing in a circle around the young children, guiding them through the meditation that would reveal their inner power. For most, it was a day of celebration, a rite of passage that marked the beginning of their journey into adulthood. But for Hiro, it would be the start of something far more complex.
Lilia knelt beside her son, her heart pounding in her chest as she guided him through the motions. "Just close your eyes, Hiro, and breathe," she instructed, her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her insides. "Feel for the warmth inside you. That's your mana."
Hiro did as he was told, his small fists clenching as he focused with all his might. The minutes ticked by, the silence growing heavier with each passing second. The other children were already showing signs—small bursts of light, sparks of energy dancing in their palms. But Hiro's hands remained dark.
Then, just as the tension became unbearable, a faint flicker of light appeared in Hiro's palm—weak, unstable, barely visible.
Lilia's smile faltered, her heart sinking, but she quickly masked her disappointment. "You did it, Hiro! I'm so proud of you," she said, pulling him into her arms. But Hiro could sense the unease in her embrace, feel the way her hands trembled ever so slightly.
Arin stood nearby, his expression unreadable, though the tightness of his jaw betrayed his concern. He placed a hand on Hiro's shoulder, the weight of it heavy with unspoken fears. "Don't worry, son," he said, his voice firm. "Mana doesn't define who you are. You're special in your own way."
But even as he spoke, doubt gnawed at him. How could his son, with his barely flickering mana, hope to survive in a world that demanded strength and power?
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Hiro Arctbender
I remember the way my parents looked at me that day, the way their voices trembled ever so slightly as they tried to reassure me. Even at six, I understood that something was wrong. My mana—the thing that was supposed to define my future—was weak, barely there at all. It scared me, made me feel small and insignificant. I could see the worry in my mother's eyes, hear the tension in my father's voice.
But I didn't want to disappoint them. I wanted to be strong, to be the hero from the stories my father told me. Every night, I would lie in bed, staring up at the ceiling, imagining myself wielding a sword of fire, or calling down lightning from the skies. I would tell myself that it didn't matter how small my mana was—I could still become a Magic Warrior. I could still make my parents proud.
But deep down, the doubt lingered, a dark cloud that I couldn't shake.
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Narrator
As the years passed, the weight of that doubt grew heavier. Hiro's mana remained weak, a constant source of anxiety for both him and his parents. They tried to hide their concern, to shield him from the harsh realities of their world, but Hiro was perceptive. He overheard their whispered conversations late at night, the way his father's voice would tighten with worry.
"His mana is so weak, Lilia," Arin would say, his tone heavy with concern. "How will he survive in a world like this?"
"We'll find a way," Lilia would reply, though her voice held an edge of desperation. "He's our son, Arin. We have to."
But even their love and determination could not protect Hiro from the dangers that lay ahead. When Hiro was twelve, Arin made a decision that would change their lives forever.
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Arin Arctbender
I should have known better, but I was desperate. When the man from Asvard Org came to our door, I knew in my gut that something was wrong. But when he spoke of wealth, of securing Hiro's future, I couldn't help but listen. We were struggling, and I couldn't bear the thought of Hiro growing up in a world where he would always be seen as weak.
The man was smooth, too smooth. His words were like honey, but there was something cold in his eyes, something that made my skin crawl. "Master Arctbender," he said, his voice calm and measured. "We've heard of your craftsmanship, and we'd like to offer you a partnership."
The offer was tempting, too tempting. He promised resources, connections—everything I needed to grow my business, to give Hiro a chance. But the contract he presented was binding, the terms strict. And the consequences of failure… they were too terrible to consider.
"We don't have a choice, Lilia," I said when she begged me to reconsider. "It's for Hiro. We have to do this."
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Narrator POV
For a time, it seemed that Arin's decision was the right one. The business flourished, and their lives improved. But the prosperity was short-lived. When the business venture collapsed, Asvard Corp came to collect, and the price was steep. Arin's failure to meet their demands meant death for his entire family.
With no other options, Arin did the only thing he could think of—he used what little money they had left to secure a place for Hiro at the prestigious Luminaris Academy of the Arcane , a school renowned across the cyrandel dominion in the Kingdom of Luminaris. It was a desperate gamble, a last-ditch effort to give Hiro a fighting chance.
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Hiro Arctbender
The day my father told me about the Academy, I could see the fear in his eyes. He tried to hide it, tried to be strong for me, but I knew. "Hiro," he said, his voice trembling ever so slightly. "I've enrolled you in the Velthorian Arcane Institute. You may not have much mana, but you're smart, resourceful. There's more to being a warrior than just magic."
I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that I could succeed, that I could make them proud. But a part of me was terrified. What if I wasn't strong enough? What if I failed?
I watched my father standing outside the next morning, staring at the horizon with a look of quiet despair. He didn't see me watching, but I saw the way his shoulders slumped, the way he sighed as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him. It scared me, but it also made me more determined than ever. I would make them proud. No matter what it took.