Noctis stood at the edge of the bustling marketplace, the cool breeze sweeping through the air, carrying the mingling scents of freshly baked bread, roasting meats, and damp cobblestones. His lavender eyes swept across the crowd, the vibrant hum of the city filling his senses, yet something about the scene felt wrong—almost as if it were both familiar and alien at once. The weight of the unknown pressed down on him, heavy and constant, like a shadow that refused to leave. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, feeling the gritty texture of the street beneath his boots, grounding him in a world that seemed to stretch infinitely before him.
As he walked toward the fountain, the sound of children's laughter caught his attention. They were struggling with their mana manipulation, their faces twisted in concentration. A strange, tingling sensation stirred in his chest as their mana crackled faintly in the air, an echo of power that made his blood hum with unexplainable familiarity. What is this? Noctis thought, his fingers twitching, an instinctual response to the magic that pulsed beneath the surface. He approached them, drawn by something he couldn't name.
"Hey there, having some trouble?" Noctis asked, his voice steady despite the confusion swirling in his mind.
The children, no older than twelve, froze, their eyes wide with a mix of embarrassment and curiosity. After a beat, they nodded.
"Mind if I give you a tip?" Noctis stood beside them, offering a smile. His small stature and youthful appearance seemed to surprise them—his short black hair and lavender eyes giving him an air of both innocence and strange wisdom. "Visualize the mana as a gentle stream. Don't force it; just guide it."
They exchanged a glance, and then, with closed eyes, followed his advice. Noctis's heart skipped a beat as the flow of their mana smoothed, the magic humming in harmony. "That's it! You've got it!" he cheered, pride swelling in his chest. The small victory felt surprisingly real, but as soon as it bloomed, a sharp sense of unease took root.
An older mage, observing from a distance, approached, his eyes narrowing with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. The moment Noctis saw him, the air grew heavier, like the world itself was holding its breath. The mage's gaze lingered on Noctis's lavender irises, and the sensation of being seen—really seen—set his pulse racing. He straightened, suddenly self-conscious, acutely aware of how his small form contrasted with the mage's towering presence.
"I hope I didn't overstep," Noctis muttered, uneasy. "I just wanted to help."
The mage studied him closely, his expression unreadable. His eyes flicked over Noctis's short stature, the way his features were still soft and youthful. He looked to be no more than five years old, yet spoke with a confidence beyond his years. "Is... something wrong?" Noctis asked, a knot tightening in his stomach.
"No," the mage replied, his tone calm but guarded. "Nothing's wrong… Just curious." His eyes flicked back to Noctis's lavender eyes, and something flickered in their depths—a flash of recognition, perhaps? "It's not every day I see someone so... young with eyes like yours."
Noctis shifted uncomfortably under the mage's scrutiny, the words scratching at his consciousness. Eyes like mine? A flash of confusion clouded his thoughts. Was there something wrong with him, something the mage saw that he didn't understand?
"I'm Noctis," he said hesitantly. "I'm... new around here."
The mage's brow furrowed slightly, a glimmer of something—concern, suspicion, or maybe something else—crossing his face. "New, you say? That explains a lot… But how long have you been here? I've never seen you before."
Noctis hesitated, his mind fogged by fragments of memories that slipped away like water through his fingers. "Not long. I just woke up... in the middle of the marketplace."
The mage's gaze softened, though wariness lingered in his eyes. "Waking up... yes, I thought so." He paused, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the hilt of his staff, his voice taking on a more measured tone. "Tell me, Noctis, do you have any prior experience with magic?"
The question hit him like a punch to the gut. Noctis blinked, startled by the directness of it. Magic? He glanced over at the children still practicing with their mana. Their expressions were now filled with triumph, their little hands glowing faintly with the power they'd just learned to control. He opened his mouth, unsure of how to answer, but the truth—however muddled—escaped his lips. "I've always been fascinated by magic," he said slowly, trying to sound confident despite the gnawing doubt in his chest. "But I never really learned much. Just bits and pieces here and there."
The mage's lips curled into a small smile, but something deeper, almost predatory, lingered in his eyes. "Interesting…" His voice dropped to a near-whisper, as though he were speaking to himself. "You've only just begun, and yet there's something about you. Something beyond ordinary."
Noctis swallowed, trying to ignore the sudden surge of unease. His fingers curled involuntarily at his sides. Could it be true? His mind whirred with possibilities. Could he really possess some latent power? The mage's attention seemed to pierce straight through him, to the raw, untapped potential that thrummed beneath his skin, a feeling that both terrified and excited him.
The mage's next words seemed almost inevitable. "It's rare to find someone with such raw power and no defined path... It's like a blank slate, but every blank slate has its own possibilities. Come with me to the Mage's Guild. I'll help you hone your abilities, but I need to see if you truly possess the potential I think you do."
Noctis's heart pounded in his chest as the mage's words sunk in. The promise of training, of answers—was it a gift or a trap? His instincts screamed at him to turn away, to flee from this path that felt too uncertain, too... inviting.
"Sorry," he muttered, as his gut twisted in confusion. "I've got my own path to follow."
Without another word, he turned, slipping into the crowd. The sudden pressure on his chest eased slightly, but a new kind of tension clung to him. What was I thinking? His heart raced as he fled the scene, his footsteps pounding in rhythm with the hammering of his mind.
Alone in a narrow alleyway, Noctis pressed his back against the cold stone wall, trying to steady his breath. The city pulsed around him, a labyrinth of possibilities he couldn't yet navigate. How did I get here? The question gnawed at him, deeper now than ever before.
He glanced up at the stars beginning to twinkle overhead, their cold, distant light offering no answers. The marketplace seemed a world away, and yet... it wasn't. It was all real, all of it—magic, mana, cores, affinities. He recited the stages of a mana core under his breath—black, red, orange, yellow, silver, white—the words a comfort, a piece of something he could grasp.
"Wait," he whispered to himself, a spark of thought igniting. "If aether exists here... could I use it?"
But the excitement was fleeting, swallowed up by caution. No. I have to understand mana first, he thought, his pulse still quickening. The unfamiliar power in his hands flickered to life as he tried to tap into it. It was weak, unstable, but undeniably there.
The soft crackle of mana was a fleeting promise. He grinned, but it quickly faded. Of course it wouldn't be that easy.
A sudden growl from his stomach reminded him of his pressing need. He hadn't eaten since... he couldn't even remember.
With a sigh, Noctis crept toward a food stall, the scent of roasted meat and boiled eggs drifting through the cool night air. His stomach twisted with hunger, but guilt quickly followed. He hadn't intended to steal. But in the silence of the night, he had no choice.
As he grabbed the food and prepared to flee, the woman running the stall cried out. "Thief! Stop that boy!"
Heart pounding, Noctis dashed back into the shadows, his stolen meal clenched tightly in his hands. He scrambled to a rooftop, collapsing there, hunger overwhelming all other thoughts.
"What am I doing?" he murmured, staring at the food in his hands. "This isn't who I want to be in this world."
The stars above twinkled serenely, and Noctis closed his eyes, a breath of resolve filling his chest. "Patience. Determination. And a little bit of luck." The words echoed softly, a promise to himself. He wasn't running away anymore. He was stepping forward, choosing a different path—one where he could finally carve out his future.
And with that thought, the soft glow of mana flickered to life in his hands once more, a reminder of the power he had yet to understand, and the destiny he was starting to claim.