Unbeknownst to me, the roar I unleashed during my trials reverberated far beyond our island, drawing curiosity and concern from those attuned to such things. My triumph had ripples, consequences that even now began to unfold.
Having completed the trials, I was brimming with excitement. For the first time since my arrival in this world, I would meet others—peers, mentors, and elders alike. Until now, my life had been shaped by solitude, defined by the presence of my new parents. The celebrations marked not just the completion of my trials but also my induction into the larger world of the Ixorym.
As the drums of celebration echoed through the massive cavern halls, I noticed for the first time the sheer number of Ixorym gathered. I had assumed our people were few, but to my astonishment, there were over a hundred others around my age. A marvel, considering that previous generations birthed only three to five offspring at a time. Now, we thrived, our power and numbers swelling after millennia of careful preparation. The timing of the revolt was no coincidence—our people were finally ready to reclaim what had been stolen.
My father, Laryx, approached me amidst the festivities, his commanding presence unmistakable even among so many. Beside him stood a towering figure with obsidian armor-like exoskeletons and piercing crimson eyes. His fatherly warmth barely concealed a warrior's edge.
"Come, Azrytharion," my father beckoned, "there is someone you must meet."
He led me to his sworn brother, Avadyn, a formidable figure with streaks of molten orange coursing through his chitin, like veins of lava beneath a blackened crust. His energy radiated heat, the power of the lava element unmistakable.
"Ah, Laryx, my old friend!" Avadyn boomed, his voice as deep and resonant as a volcanic tremor. "This must be your son. A spitting image of you, though I see traces of Sylrith's cunning in his eyes."
Laryx chuckled, nodding. "Indeed. I have high hopes for him, though Sylrith insists he must walk the path of a mage. We've compromised—he will train in both disciplines."
"A wise choice," Avadyn agreed, his gaze appraising me. "His mana nodes are extraordinary. I suspect the blood of our forebears runs strong in him."
"I just hope he doesn't slack," my father said, feigning sternness. "Discipline is everything."
Avadyn laughed heartily. "He'll rise to it. Speaking of which, my son is here as well. Voryn! Come greet your kin!"
A figure emerged from the shadows, his presence both commanding and unnerving. Voryn's body was marked with pulsing red veins that seemed to glow faintly, his exoskeleton giving off a fiery sheen. He radiated power and heat, a testament to his rare affinity for the lava element.
"Father?" Voryn's voice was low, edged with curiosity.
"Come, boy. Meet Laryx's son, Azrytharion. You two will likely see much of each other in the coming years."
He stood slightly taller than me, his crimson gaze sharp and assessing.
"Voryn," he said curtly, nodding his head slightly.
"Azrytharion," I replied as I nodded too. "You've mastered the Evolved rank already?"
He nodded. "Lava attunement accelerates growth," he said. "Absorbing its essence strengthens me."
A flicker of envy stirred in me, but I buried it quickly. Voryn was an Evolved already, far ahead of me in rank and power. A rival in every sense of the word.
The festivities wound down as night fell, and my parents led me home. Awaiting me were two gifts that would shape the course of my future.
My father presented the first: a stone etched with strange runes. "Swallow it," he instructed firmly.
I hesitated but trusted him, placing the stone in my mouth and forcing it down. Pain erupted in my chest, a searing agony that felt as if my insides were being torn apart. I clenched my fists, gritting my teeth to suppress a roar.
"It's a skill stone," my father explained calmly, watching as I endured. "It will awaken one of your latent abilities."
Minutes felt like hours, but finally, the pain receded. A name whispered itself into my mind: Berserker.
The skill's power surged through me, a primal force that promised unparalleled strength at the cost of control. When activated, it would amplify my power by 10% of my rank, but it came with a detriment: without dutiful honing of the ability I would be a liability in battle.
"Well done," Laryx said, pride evident in his voice. "A true warrior's skill."
Next came my mother, Sylrith, her gaze softer but no less intense. She handed me a glowing mana stone.
"This will awaken your affinities," she said.
I braced myself as I absorbed the stone. The pain was worse than before, a searing pain that coursed through my veins and seemed to twist the very fabric of my being. A faint grunt escaped me as I resisted the urge to cry out.
When the light subsided, my body glowed with radiant colors: green, black, blue, and pink. Nature, chaos, lightning, and aether.
Sylrith gasped, her composure slipping for the first time. "A quadra-affinity," she whispered. "The first since our people were sealed."
Laryx's eyes widened, his pride tempered by caution. "He carries the weight of destiny, Sylrith. His path will be anything but easy."