The snow was deep that dawn.
Snowflakes danced in the wind like ash, falling to the ground silently. Miles pulled his fur cloak tighter around his shoulders, his fingers already stiff from the chill. Beside him, his father rode steadily, eyes scanning the frozen woods with an expert gaze.
His father had been an imperial guard in the city with a yellow core and an affinity for fire. His father then retired and settled with his mother where they currently lived. Whiteshore.
"Quiet morning," his father muttered, his voice like gravel. "Too quiet."
Miles nodded. "You think the animals have moved deeper?"
"Maybe. Or something scared them off."
They rode in silence for a while, the crunch of hooves muffled by the soft snow. The forest unnaturally still. No birds. No rustle of deer in the bushes. Only the wind. Miles' breath curled into the air, faintly glowing from the flicker of fire he kept in his palm to warm his hands. He could only keep it alive for a minute at most before he ran out of mana.
His father had more control. A veteran of the Border Wars, the old man could send a wave of fire six feet long from the palm of his hand. Even in his graying years, his fire still burned bright.
Miles had just formed his mana core two months ago during his sixteenth birthday. Considered late by the normal standards but he didn't care nor his father did. After all, they weren't mages. They were hunters.
"Keep your senses open," the old man said, glancing around. "Winter makes them beasts bold."
Miles reached for the bow strapped to his saddle.
They reached the stream by midday. It was half-frozen, a portion of it painted in red.
Miles dismounted and crouched by the water. "Blood."
His father slid from his horse. "Fresh?"
He touched it. Still warm.
A low growl echoed through the trees behind them. Their horses ran wild.
"Something big is coming, Miles. Be ready."
Miles could smell something foul in tha air. Like rotten meat and burnt rubber.
Branches snapped and a monster charged from the bush.
A bear, but not. Its fur was patchy, matted with rot. Its eyes glowed a sickly dark green, and black veins pulsed beneath its translucent flesh. Its claws were warped into jagged obsidian. Smoke poured from its jaw with every snarl.
"A Hollow," Miles whispered
His father didn't hesitate. "Run!"
Flames burst from his father's hands, a blazing arc of fire surging toward the creature. The bear shrieked as fire scorched its shoulder, the smell of burning hair filling the air. But it didn't slow. It crashed into his father like a boulder, smashing him against a tree with crushing force.
"Father!" Miles screamed.
He tried to fire an arrow, but his hands were shaking. The arrow sank into the Hollow's back but it barely scratched the monster. The bear turned its glowing eyes on him.
Then it charged.
Miles barely had time to scream before the beast was upon him.
Claws hit his chest. He flew through the air, breaking branches as he tumbled down a snowy hill. He rolled, hit some rocks, and finally stopped on a frozen ledge above a deep canyon.
He couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.
Blood pooled beneath him. His vision blurred.
Then– a flicker of gold.
A voice, ancient and weary, echoed through his skull.
"So this is what remains of my kingdom..."
Heat surged through his veins. Images flooded his mind of memories not his own. Wars fought under thunderous skies. Cities made of crystal and flame. Betrayal.
"You are not ready. But you will be. The elements remember me. And now... they remember you."
Miles screamed.
And the world changed.
His body arched as magic poured into him. Wild, raw, ancient. Wind howled around him. Flames sparked from his breath. Ice crackled beneath his skin.
When he opened his eyes, they glowed with shifting light.
His red mana core inside him transformed into a burning white one. The pinnacle of magic.
He remembered his name.
He remembered Ajax.
Two souls. One body. One fate.
"I… I'm still me," he gasped. "Aren't I?"
No answer came. Only silence.
But power remained.
With a grunt, he stood, body still broken but moving with borrowed strength. The mana inside him was overflowing.
The snow had stopped.
The world was quiet again.
He ran faster than he should've been able to. His legs were light, the wind pushing him forward with every step that broke trees on his path.
When he arrived, his father's body lay torn in the snow, blood melting the ground beneath him.
The Hollow Bear hunched over the corpse, tearing flesh with its obsidian teeth.
Something inside him broke.
Fire sparked from his skin, his old element now amplified tenfold. His eyes glowed a golden light and a sword made of holy light materialized in his hand.
The bear turned and Miles struck.
He launched forward, spinning with a gale behind him, slashing the beast with the sword. He leapt back, throwing a wave of fire from his palm. It screamed and staggered.
But it charged again.
He met it mid-air, slamming the sword in its heart.
"Holy Flame."
A vortex of flame and holy light exploded outward. The bear howled then erupted into pieces, dark mana burned quietly into the snow.
He landed on the ground with blood in his mouth. The usage of a high tier magic made his knees buckled. His mana core returned to its original color.
His chest heaved, arms trembling, body smoking from the exertion. He crawled to his father, hoping and praying.
Too late.
Miles laid him down gently, wrapping him in his own torn cloak. Blood had long since cooled on the fabric, but it felt wrong to leave him bare.
His hands shook as he filled the grave, each scoop of dirt sounded like a final farewell. When the last patch was covered, he sat beside it, breath fogging in the air.
For a long time, he just stared. There were no tears left. Just silence. Just snow.
He stood, brushing dirt from his knees. Then his voice broke. Soft and shattered.
"At least... you're with Mother now."
He looked up. The sky was a pale gray, stretched wide and cold. Snowflakes began to fall again, slow and unhurried.
He turned his back to the grave and walked away. Alone, but no longer just a boy.