The Mortal Dream - by Alaric Wyndhaven
Excerpts from: Preface
To wield mana is to awaken the burning heart within—the Mana Flame. Its color reflects the wielder's mastery, while its brightness reveals their potential. This is the spectrum of ascension, where the hue of one's flame transforms as their heart grows stronger, and the light of their flame brightens as their bond with mana deepens.
The journey of mana begins with a single spark — the very first ignition of life's energy, manifesting as a tiny, flickering flame within the heart. This spark is the beginning of ascendancy, a path that stretches far beyond the mortal existence, into the very fabric of power and mastery. The path is long, but every step along the way is marked by the brilliance of a growing flame, each stage of your progress shaping not only your strength but your very essence.
Born to a noble father and a commoner mother, it's my journey to mastery that defied expectations. From the first spark as an Initiate to the blazing inferno of the Warlord, each realm marked a transformation, both in my power and spirit.
Excerpts from Chapter 2: The Crimson Spark
. . .
My father rarely spoke of the years before I was born. When he did, it was often in quiet moments, his voice low, as though sharing a secret too delicate to be said aloud. One such moment came when I was struggling as an Initiate, barely able to coax the faintest flicker from within. Frustration burned hotter than the mana flame I longed to summon, and I remember throwing down my training staff in despair.
That was when my father, usually a stern man, sat beside me. He didn't scold me. Instead, he told me a story.
"Alaric," he began, his gaze distant, "before you were born, many doubted you would even have the chance to spark a flame. You see, our family, the Wyndhavens, were already hanging by a thread as nobles — just a baroncy, the lowest of the low. And then I did what they considered unthinkable. I married your mother."
He paused then, perhaps expecting me to interrupt. But I didn't. I couldn't.
"She wasn't just a commoner, Alaric — she was a mortal. A woman with no mana, no lineage, no place in our world. My family mocked me endlessly, saying I had doomed our bloodline. They told me a child born of such a union would have no chance of igniting the flame. They called it fate."
His voice hardened then, the steel of defiance in his tone. "But your mother—your mother never gave up hope. She was the only one who dared to believe in you, even before you existed. While the world doubted, she dreamed. She dreamed of giving birth to a child who could hold a mana flame in their heart, even if she herself could not. She called it 'the mortal's dream.'"
I swallowed hard, feeling a lump rise in my throat. He rarely spoke of my mother, and when he did, it was always with reverence.
"When you were born," he continued, "the midwives and clerics barely glanced at you. They thought you hadn't sparked the flame, dismissing you as just another mortal child. But your mother—your mother, even as a mortal herself, could sense what they could not. And when I held you up in my arms, I felt it too. There it was—faint, fragile, but unmistakable. You had ignited the mana flame."
He paused, his voice softening as his gaze drifted, lost in the memory. "Your mother and I rejoiced that day. I remember her face—it was radiant, brighter than any flame. She was the happiest I had ever seen her. To the world, you may have been ordinary, but to her, you were everything. You were the proof that defiance could shape destiny."
His eyes met mine then, hard and unyielding, yet filled with a quiet warmth. "So, Alaric, I ask you not to struggle so fiercely against yourself. Don't let doubt extinguish what she believed in so deeply. You were born out of defiance, out of hope, and even though your mother has left us, she has also left me the faith that you were never ordinary in the first place. You have always been extraordinary."
In that moment, the weight of his words settled into my chest, an anchor of truth that steadied me against the storm of self-doubt. My mother's faith, my father's defiance—it all led to this. The spark within me flickered once more, this time not out of desperation, but out of quiet resolve.
. . .
Excerpts from Chapter 3: The Blaze of Initiate
First Blaze: Seeded Initiate
The moment the spark ignites, a dim crimson flame flickers to life. This is the First Blaze, the Seeded Initiate, marking the birth of potential within you. In these early moments, the flame is fragile, a tender spark that signifies the beginning of your journey. The path ahead is uncertain, but with each breath, the flame begins to grow, slowly stabilizing, yet still faint in its glow. . .
Second Blaze: Budding Initiate
As days pass, the flame grows stronger, shedding its dim hue for a richer, more vibrant crimson. This is the Second Blaze, the Budding Initiate, where your flame begins to spread its reach. The mana becomes more consistent, more certain. It pulses with the early strength of growth, and the world around you begins to change in response to your growing power. . .
Third Blaze: Rooted Initiate
The flame becomes deeper, richer, as the Third Blaze emerges. The crimson hue stabilizes into a steady pulse of power, forming the Rooted Initiate. . .
Fourth Blaze: Blooming Initiate
A brilliant expansion . . .
Fifth Blaze: Half-Step Initiate
The flame reaches even greater intensity . . .
Sixth Blaze: Tempered Initiate
Through trial and hardship . . .
Seventh Blaze: Wrought Initiate
The flame becomes an artifact, a creation of . . .
Eighth Blaze: Forged Initiate
The furnace of will and. . .
Ninth Blaze: Zenith Initiate
At last, the Ninth Blaze, the Zenith Initiate, emerges . . .
Tenth Blaze: Dawn of Apprentice
The Tenth Blaze signals a momentous shift . . .
Excerpts from Chapter 4: The Apprentice
. . .
I still remember how lucky I was that day. The entrance exam to the Stoneshank Academy was the most grueling test I had faced yet, and the weight of it pressed heavily on my shoulders. The journey had already been long—days of travel to reach a place so distant from my hometown, just for a chance to enroll in the best academy in my father's barony. At twelve years old, I was only a half-step Apprentice, barely at the threshold of true tempering.
The final entrance test was based on sparring results, and I had been paired with another half-step Apprentice, a wiry boy with a confidence that unnerved me. As we waited in the queue, the sparring ring loomed ahead, and with it, the judging eyes of the academy's instructors. I felt the familiar pang of doubt gnaw at me.
To steady myself, I decided to slip away to an empty training hall for one last practice session before my match. I needed to sharpen my focus, to refine the control over my flame. The dim orange hue of my mana flickered weakly as I called it forth, and frustration threatened to overwhelm me.
But then it happened.
As I channeled my mana into a defensive form, something within me shifted. The flickering flame steadied, glowing brighter, more vibrant—a deeper, richer orange, like the heart of a sunrise. I felt the change surge through me, a rush of energy and clarity unlike anything I had experienced before. I had broken through. I was no longer a half-step Apprentice; I was now a tempered Apprentice, standing firmly at the sixth blaze.
The exhilaration was overwhelming, but there was no time to dwell on it. The announcement for my match echoed through the hall, and I rushed back to the sparring ring. My opponent's confident smirk faltered the moment we exchanged blows. I could feel it in the way his defenses crumbled under my strikes—this newfound strength, was mine now.
When the match ended, I stood victorious. The instructors nodded in approval, and my name was called as one of the few to pass the entrance exam. That day, I learned two invaluable lessons: the importance of preparation, and the power of a breakthrough born of determination.
Excepts from Chapter 5: The Blaze of an Apprentice
. . . the Dawn of Apprentice, your journey begins again, the cycle repeating itself as you ascend through the realms once more. The flame stabilizes into the First Blaze of Apprentice, and with it, a new chapter begins, this time marked by a strikingly powerful hue—a radiant Citrine Fire, an orange mana flame. . .
Excerpt from Chapter 6: The Sunfire
. . .
The day I graduated from Stonehaven Academy was one I would never forget. It wasn't just a celebration of years spent learning and growing—it was the day my future, uncertain as it had been, became set in motion. As the top students lined up in front of the academy's grand hall, the buzz of excitement and tension hung thick in the air. We were about to face the ultimate challenge: a test by the Ironhelm Royal Guards, who would select the finest candidates to join their ranks.
The Royal Guards were known for their high standards, and even their weakest were formidable. As the event began, a single royal guard, an imposing figure with the stature of a seasoned warrior, stood before us. His presence alone was a testament to the strength of the Ironhelm forces, as from the scenes it looked like the weakest of the guards was pushed forward, his test was to test us. He was uninterested in showing off his skill. He carried with him a wooden shield and simply put a Reinforcement spell, designed to challenge even the most skilled of us.
I watched as the first of my fellow students, those ranked above me, stepped forward. Each of them — whether a budding Adept or a rooted one — had a mastery over their mana, a skill honed through years of dedication. They charged at the shield with determination, attempting to break the enchantment and graze it with their attacks.
One by one, they failed, and the royal guard merely re-applied the enchantment with a nonchalant shake of his shield. His movements were effortless. The barrier held strong against every strike, and I saw how close the others came to breaking through, only to be repelled by the immense force of the guard's protection.
Then it was my turn. I had been ranked ninth among the top students, and I was proud of how far I'd come—breaking through the Adept realm only a month before the final exams. But even with my newfound power, I knew I had to give everything to stand a chance.
I focused on my mana heart. It burned with the brilliance of the yellow Sunfire, hotter and brighter than I had ever felt before. My breath steadied as I drew my sword, feeling the pulse of the flame surge through me. With a quick charge, I dashed toward the enchanted shield.
As my sword came within inches of the barrier, I saw it—a shift in the air, a subtle transparency in the enchantment that no one else had noticed. In that brief moment before contact, the shield's defenses seemed to falter. I thrust my sword forward, and to my astonishment, it pierced through the shield, shattering the enchantment completely. The force sent ripples through the air, and I felt my strike connect with something else—another shield, one made entirely of mana.
Before I could react, another royal guard intervened, appearing out of nowhere to shield the boy who had been testing us. The attack was not meant to harm, but the moment had taken everyone by surprise, and I could see the guard's intervention had saved the shield bearer's life.
The tension in the air was palpable. I was shaking, uncertain if I had done something wrong. But when the royal guard spoke, his voice was filled with approval. "Impressive. You have the makings of a great warrior."
To my astonishment, I was selected on the spot. At just fifteen years and nine months, I became the third youngest to join the ranks of the Ironhelm Royal Guards. It was a decision that would alter the course of my life forever, and I stood there, barely able to grasp the magnitude of what had just happened.
As the ceremony concluded, I felt a mixture of exhilaration and disbelief. The royal guards had seen something in me that even I hadn't even fully realized.
. . .
Excerpts from Chapter 7: The Blaze of an Adept
. . . Dawn of Adept, your path has led you to a place where all the knowledge and power you've gathered culminate in a new form. As the dawn of your new journey breaks, the cycle begins once more. The flame stabilizes into the First Blaze of Adept, marking the beginning of a new ascent. With it comes a mana flame of unparalleled intensity—a burning Yellow Sunfire, reminiscent of the scorching heat of the Zaar desert at midday. This radiant mana flame, hot as the sun itself, blazes with a fierceness and clarity that illuminates all that stands before you. It is a fire born of strength, of endurance, and of mastery—each flicker an embodiment of your rise to the next realm. . .