Days passed in a blur. Cedric wandered through forests and across rivers, sleeping beneath the stars and relying on the sparse rations he had managed to take from the keep. His magic, though, remained elusive. He could create small things—a cup, a dagger, a piece of cloth—but nothing of consequence, nothing that would help him in a world as harsh as this.
He was growing tired. Hungry. The cold winds cut through his cloak, and the path ahead seemed endless. The wilderness was unforgiving, and he was beginning to doubt whether he would find any answers out here at all.
That was when they came.
The bandits descended on him from the trees, three figures clad in rough leather and armed with blades. They didn't speak—only smirked as they surrounded him. Cedric's heart raced, panic rising in his chest. He tried to summon something, anything, to defend himself—a sword, a shield—but the creations flickered and faded, useless as they dissolved into thin air.
"Looks like he's got nothing," one of the bandits sneered, stepping forward with his blade drawn. "This'll be easy."
Cedric's back was against the wall—there was nowhere to run. His mind raced, and in that moment, something inside him snapped. It wasn't fear that took over—it was something deeper, something primal. His magic surged to the surface, and for the first time, he didn't try to control it. He let it flow, wild and unrestrained.
The ground trembled beneath his feet.
Before the bandits could react, the earth itself responded to Cedric's will. Stone erupted from the ground, twisting and rising into a towering barrier around him. Trees bent and reshaped, forming a protective wall that encased him, impenetrable and unbreakable.
The bandits stumbled back, their sneers turning to shouts of terror as the landscape itself transformed before their eyes. Cedric's creation magic had burst forth, shaping the world around him with a power he had never known.
When the magic finally ebbed, Cedric stood in the center of a fortress of his own making, the bandits long gone, fleeing into the forest. His breathing was ragged, his heart pounding, but his mind was clear.
This was his power.
His magic was limitless—not bound by simple objects, but by the world itself. The creation magic he had barely understood could shape reality as he saw fit. And as he stood there, looking at the fortress that had sprung from his imagination, Cedric realized that his journey had only just begun.
He wasn't weak. He wasn't useless. His magic was everything his family had feared—and more.
With a new resolve burning inside him, Cedric turned toward the horizon. The world was vast, and there were no limits to what he could create. His endless journey awaited.