The sound of distant explosions echoed through the air, followed by shouts and laughter. The morning breeze carried the mingling scents of burnt wood and damp earth.
Evan opened his eyes slowly, blinking against the golden light filtering through a small gap in his tent. For a moment, he lay still, listening to the familiar sounds of the Arcane Field: apprentices practicing their spells, veterans barking orders, and the occasional clinking of contribution coins being exchanged in the central square.
A smile crept onto his face.
Unlike every other morning over the past two years, Evan felt something new: hope.
After his experience in the Shadowed Palace, he finally understood the purpose of his core. His Origin Rune wasn't an empty burden—it was a unique ability, tuned to runes and patterns. And, for the first time, he knew how to harness that potential.
Quickly getting to his feet, he grabbed his worn clothes and boots, already planning his day.
"If I'm going to test my core," he thought, "I'd better create something useful."
Runes were a cornerstone of the magical world. They weren't merely symbols but tools that conveyed concepts in a universal and efficient way.
This was why magical texts almost always used runes to explain spells. Instead of repeatedly describing every concept involved, mages relied on runes as a way to organize a spell's instructions.
Apprentices were taught to recognize basic runes during their first weeks of training. These represented fundamental ideas—such as energy, flow, or compression—and were the foundation of all known magic. Learning to read runes was considered an essential step for any mage.
But inscribing them was far more challenging.
Rune inscriptions lay at the heart of the Runic Path, a discipline focused on crafting magical artifacts. For mages aspiring to master arcane spells or achieve higher baptisms, runic crafting was seen as a detour—a practical and profitable pursuit but one removed from the grandeur of pure magic.
Evan knew this better than anyone.
"True mages shape the world with words and gestures," he once overheard a veteran say. "Artisans shape the world with ink. And that's all they are."
Despite the disdain, the Runic Path was indispensable. Without it, the magical and mundane worlds alike would be poorer. Rune artifacts were everywhere, from noble estates to the missions of the Arcane Field.
To inscribe a rune, a mage had to translate concepts into precise strokes while channeling magical energy. Any mistake could cause the rune to fail, wasting precious resources in the process.
Evan had avoided inscription for a long time, but now, with his core active and its purpose clear, he knew it was time to try again.
Evan walked to the central square, where apprentices traded their contribution coins for supplies.
The coins were exclusive silver pieces used as internal currency within the Arcane Field. Earning them required completing missions or specific tasks, and spending them was a decision no one took lightly.
Evan stopped in front of the rune supply shop.
"What do you need?" asked the surly shopkeeper, a young mage apprentice stacking lumar ink vials on a shelf.
"A vial of lumar ink," Evan replied.
The shopkeeper grabbed a small golden vial and placed it on the counter.
"Ten coins."
Evan handed over the coins, leaving himself with only eight. He knew he couldn't afford to make mistakes.
"No refunds," the shopkeeper said, already turning to another customer.
Evan carefully held the vial, feeling the weight of his decision.
---
Back in his tent, Evan placed the vial on his makeshift desk. He stared at a scrap of leather from his boot, prepared for the test.
But before touching the ink, he closed his eyes and focused.
In his mind, he accessed the space where the runes floated, illuminated by a faint warmth emanating from his core. He visualized basic patterns—runes of flow, compression, and lightness—that he had learned in his first weeks at the Field.
"I need to create something useful," he thought.
Evan closed his eyes and immersed himself in the space where the runes floated in his mind. They were all there, glowing faintly: basic patterns he had studied in his early days at the Arcane Field.
Each rune seemed to possess its own presence—not physical, but vibrant. Some pulsed slowly, as if waiting for his attention, while others spun erratically, unstable.
"Let's see what I can do," he thought, reaching out mentally for the first rune.
He chose the rune of flow.
The moment he connected with it, a peculiar sensation coursed through his body—like a gentle river of energy flowing through his mind. It was almost soothing, yet it carried a promise of movement.
"You're… flexible," he murmured, trying to grasp its pattern.
He rotated the rune slowly, observing how its lines and contours shifted. It was fascinating how each angle seemed to carry a subtle variation in meaning, like words whose tone changed with emphasis.
"What if you connect with compression?"
He brought the compression rune closer.
Unlike flow, compression had a dense, almost suffocating presence. The moment Evan connected with it, he felt as though the air around him was gently pressing against him.
"You're… intense," he said, adjusting the interaction between the two patterns.
As the runes neared each other, their contours began to glow. But the light was weak, hesitant, as if something was missing.
Evan separated compression and returned his focus to flow. He needed to better understand how these patterns interacted.
For several minutes, he rotated both runes in his mind, testing angles and alignments. Some attempts resulted in unstable combinations that quickly unraveled. Others seemed almost right but didn't quite satisfy him.
"I need something to balance this," he thought.
He brought in the rune of lightness.
The moment he connected with it, a sense of freedom washed over him, as though all the weight he carried had vanished for an instant. It was unlike the other two—softer, more ethereal.
He attempted to combine it with flow and compression.
His initial attempts were disastrous. Lightness seemed to repel the other patterns, like inverted magnets. But Evan persisted, tweaking angles and strokes, searching for a way to align them.
Finally, the three runes connected.
The resulting glow was stronger, more stable. Evan felt a faint warmth in his chest, as if his core were reacting to the pattern.
"This is something," he said, studying the intricate design he had formed.
But he knew it wasn't complete.
Evan opened his eyes and touched the core in his chest, feeling its soft warmth. He understood what he needed to do.
"Simulate," he murmured, closing his eyes again.
Immediately, the three connected runes in his mind began to glow more brightly. Around them, the other runes he knew began to shift. It was as if they were all waiting for a command.
Evan focused on his goal—something to enhance speed while remaining stable and durable. His core, responding to his intent, began testing hundreds of rune combinations and angles per second.
Runes of resistance, stability, secondary flow, and others approached the initial pattern, searching for a fit. With each attempt, Evan felt the variations, the failures, and the small successes.
Finally, two new runes joined the pattern:
Stability, to balance the accumulated energy.
Resistance, to extend the effect's duration.
When the final pattern emerged, Evan felt a clear understanding of what he had created.
"Assimilate," he murmured.
A wave of information passed through his mind. He knew exactly what the combination did: a fluid and stable speed boost with extended effects, though limited by minor imperfections in the strokes.
More than that, it felt as though his body had begun to internalize the pattern, as if he already knew how to replicate it.
"It's ready," he said confidently.
Evan opened his eyes again, feeling connected to the pattern he had created. Now came the most challenging part: bringing the rune into the physical world.