Mav stared at the skill window before him, his eyes tracing over the familiar words and numbers. It wasn't the first time he had looked at these skills; in fact, shortly after the Bestowal Ceremony, he had spent hours scrutinizing them, trying to make sense of the cruel hand fate had dealt him. The numbers were burned into his memory—Red Fireball (Basic) lvl. 1/5, Blue Heal (Basic) lvl. 1/5—each skill with a mana cost that far exceeded what he could comfortably sustain, and effects so minimal they hardly seemed worth the effort.
His gaze fell to the Dark Flame affinity—120 out of 120. The number that had once filled him with dread now seemed almost irrelevant, a reminder of his perceived failure. "Useless," he muttered, the word like poison on his tongue. "Damn useless."
But his eyes lingered on the Blue Flame, the measly 5 out of 120 offering the faintest glimmer of hope. He scrolled down to his skills, eyes settling on one that seemed almost laughable in its simplicity: Blue Heal (Basic) lvl. 1/5.
With a deep breath, he touched the skill, and its specifics appeared:
Skill Name: Blue Heal (Basic) lvl. 1/5
Description: Summon a blue flame that can heal small cuts or bruises.
Manacost: 60
Cooldown: 120 seconds
The mana cost was staggering for such a minor skill—no doubt a reflection of his low affinity—but Mav didn't care. He had to try. "Blue Heal," he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his desperation.
A small blue flame flickered to life on Emily's forehead, casting a soft glow over her sunken face. Mav's heart clenched at the sight, the flame's light only serving to highlight her frailty. He watched with a mix of hope and dread, willing it to work, to make a difference—anything.
But as the flame faded, Emily's condition remained unchanged. Her eyes stayed closed, her breathing weak and uneven. Mav felt a hollow emptiness open inside him, the last of his hope draining away with the light of the flame.
Tears blurred his vision, spilling over onto his cheeks. "Useless," he whispered, voice barely audible. "Useless… Useless…" Each word felt like a hammer strike against the fragile walls he had built around his heart. The flood of despair overwhelmed him, and he lightly tapped his forehead with his clenched fist, the physical pain a poor distraction from the agony within.
Nacht watched his son, his own heart breaking at the sight of Mav's pain. He searched for words, something—anything—that could offer comfort, but found nothing. In the end, he did the only thing he could. He stepped closer, placed a hand on Mav's back, and let the silence stretch between them, a shared grief that needed no words.
After a moment, Mav wiped his tears with the back of his hand and stood. "I'm going outside for a bit," he said, his voice raw with emotion.
Nacht looked at him, concern etched on his face. "You okay?"
Mav hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. Just… I need to get some air. Clear my head."
Nacht nodded, though his worry was evident. "Alright. I'll stay here with your mother. Just… don't stay out too long, okay? It's getting dark."
"I won't," Mav replied softly, his gaze lingering on Emily for a moment before he turned and walked out the door. Each step felt heavy, the weight of despair pressing down on him.
Mav burst out of the door, his feet pounding the ground as he sprinted toward the forest. The evening air, cool and tinged with the scent of earth and leaves, brushed against his tear-streaked face, but he barely noticed. His vision was blurred by a flood of emotions, and the calls of villagers faded into nothing, lost in the roar of his thoughts.
He reached the edge of the forest, where the orange rays of the setting sun filtered through the trees, casting long shadows on the ground. Mav ran deeper, dodging trunks and branches with reckless speed, driven by a need to escape—to find solace, or perhaps just to lose himself in the woods.
Finally, he arrived at a familiar spot. A large, smooth rock, worn by time, sat nestled among the towering trees. This had always been a place of comfort for him, a refuge where he could rest after his rigorous exercises, where the weight of the world seemed to lighten. Mav climbed the rock with practiced ease and lay down on its cool surface, staring up at the canopy of leaves above.
Tears flowed once more, silently spilling from his eyes as he gazed upward. The leaves rustled softly in the breeze, their gentle sound mixing with the cold, unyielding surface of the rock beneath him. The exhaustion and the soothing chill lulled him into a fitful sleep.
When Mav awoke, the forest had plunged into deeper darkness. The canopy above had turned into a nearly impenetrable shroud against the night sky. As he sat up, his thoughts returned to the weight of his problems—the failing Blue Heal, the relentless reminder of his shortcomings. The dark, silent forest seemed to press in on him, amplifying his despair.
His gaze fell on the trees, and in his anger and frustration, their shadows seemed to twist into mocking shapes, their forms stretching and contorting as if they were jeering at his helplessness.
His chest tightened with a mix of sorrow and rage. Mav's frustration boiled over. He clenched his fists, the anger surging through him. The sight of the taunting trees only fueled his rage. "Dark Ascension!" he shouted, his voice a roar of defiance.
A huge, dark-colored flame erupted from one of the trees, a swirling mass of shadows and fire. But as before, it did nothing—the tree stood untouched, unburned. The flame was all spectacle and no substance.
"Dark Ascension!" Mav repeated, his voice louder, more desperate. Another dark flame engulfed a different tree, but again, the wood remained unscathed. He shouted the words over and over, each time more frantic, until all the trees surrounding the rock were blazing with the dark flames, the air thick with their eerie light.
The sight was surreal—a grove of trees burning with a fire that gave no warmth and caused no harm. The scene around him resembled a painting born from deep turmoil, a dark, tortured beauty that no artist could capture on canvas.
Mav sat up, his breath ragged as he took in the sight of the untouched trees. The flames taunted him, their dark light mocking his powerlessness. His anger bubbled over, and with a sharp exhale, he muttered, "Display Status."
The familiar status box appeared before him, and he scanned the list until his eyes landed on his skills. His gaze stopped at one in particular: Red Fireball (Basic) lvl. 1/5. He pressed on it, and the specifics appeared:
Skill Name: Red Fireball (Basic) lvl. 1/5
Description: Summon a small red ball of fire that can burn objects of its size.
Manacost: 60
Cooldown: 120 seconds
Then, he glanced at his remaining mana: 120/120. The Blue Heal he had used earlier had drained half of it, but the rest had returned during his brief nap. Even so, the effort had felt futile, a cruel joke against his current predicament. Mav's lips curled into a sad smile. What did it matter? Mana meant nothing if he had no real use for it.
"Red Fireball," he said, his voice hollow.
Immediately, a small red flame appeared above his palm, its heat warming his skin in a way the dark flames never did. He looked around, his eyes settling on one of the trees still blazing with dark fire. He stood, positioning himself like a pitcher ready to throw a fastball. With fierce determination, he hurled the Red Fireball at the tree.
The moment the red flame touched the edge of the dark one, the air around him seemed to thicken. Suddenly, a box popped up before his eyes:
Different Flame Type Detected.
Detecting Flame Type...
Red Flame Detected.
Dark Flame and Red Flame in Contact.
Dark Ascension Prerequisites Met.
Activate Dark Ascension?
Yes or No?