The morning of the ceremony arrived far too soon.
Sunlight streamed through the cracks in the window, but it felt colder today, distant. My fingers trembled slightly as I tightened the straps of my boots.
Downstairs, I heard the soft murmur of voices—Mom humming lowly, the clink of dishes being set on the table, and Blanc's excited chatter filling the gaps.
Forcing my legs to move, I made my way down.
"Morning," I greeted, though my voice sounded thin.
Mom turned, a warm but worried smile on her face. "Morning, dear. Eat something before you go. You'll need your strength."
The table was laid out more carefully than usual—rootcakes stacked high, sunfruit jam glistening in a small dish, and a kettle of herbal tea steaming faintly.
"Looks like a feast," I said, trying to smile.
"Well, it's a special day," she replied, smoothing her apron nervously.
Dad sat by the window, his arms crossed, gaze distant. When he spoke, his voice was steady, but there was something tight behind it. "Your mother was up before dawn preparing this."
Blanc practically vibrated in his seat, swinging his legs. "Keal, Keal! Do you think you'll get Sword Flash? Or Fire Step? Or... oh, oh! Sky Howl!"
I laughed despite the knot in my stomach. "I don't think the World Crystal hands out skills like candy, Blanc."
"But what if it does?!" Blanc grinned, then his voice softened, a little more uncertain. "You'll get something cool... right?"
I hesitated.
Mom's hand found my shoulder. "Whatever skill you receive, it won't change who you are. We're proud of you already."
Dad gave a slow nod. "Remember what I told you, Keal. The System gives the skill, but only you give it meaning."
I swallowed hard, fighting the fear creeping up my throat. "I'll do my best."
Blanc beamed. "You'll be the strongest big brother in the world!"
*I hope so,* I thought. *I really hope so.*
With a final bite of rootcake I could barely taste, I stood and grabbed my cloak.
Mom wiped her hands on her apron, then reached out to fix my hair like she used to when I was younger. "Go on, now. The whole village is waiting."
Dad placed a firm hand on my back as I headed for the door. "And whatever happens... we'll be waiting right here for you."
I looked back at them—Mom, Dad, and Blanc standing in the doorway, framed by the morning light.
I smiled. Small. Wavering.
Then I turned and walked toward my fate.
The morning sun bathed the village square in gold, yet no warmth touched my heart.
I stood among the crowd, heart thudding in my chest like a drum that refused to quiet down. All around me, people gathered—parents with hopeful eyes, younger children peeking from behind their elders, and my fellow ceremony-goers with faces painted in nervous excitement.
This is it.
This is the day everything changes.
Please… let it be enough.
The Ancient Oak, its bark lined with silver veins of old magic, stretched its branches over the World Crystal Altar. Its leaves whispered softly in the wind, like voices of countless generations who had stood here before us, awaiting their fate.
I caught glimpses of my peers. Terren was stretching his arms, confident as ever, throwing mock sword strikes at invisible enemies.
Lira was weaving a protective charm from colored thread, her calm fingers hiding the slight tremble in her shoulders.
Joren was pacing near the back, biting his nails.
"Bet you'll get something combat-ready, Keal," Terren called out to me, a grin playing on his lips. "All that wood-chopping must've built up your muscles. Maybe a Hammer Strike or something."
I forced a laugh. "Guess we'll find out."
But my gut twisted.
Lira smiled gently. "You've always worked hard. I think the World will see that."
I wished I believed her.
Joren shuffled up beside me, his voice low. "I keep dreaming I'll get something awful… like Slippery Hands or Rotten Breath."
I gave him a sidelong glance and smiled despite myself. "If that happens, I'll make you gloves. And breath mints."
He laughed—a short, nervous bark—and for a moment, the fear faded.
But then the elder's staff struck the ground.
"Step forth, those who seek your fate!"
One by one, names were called. The World Crystal glowed, skills revealed, cheers and applause filling the square like waves crashing on the shore.
Terren—Flame Blade.
The crowd roared. He raised his arms like a champion already crowned.
Lira—Spirit Bind.
Soft gasps and respectful nods followed.
And then…
"Keal of the Nareth family."
Everything else fell away.
This is it.
Please… please give me something useful. Something strong enough to protect them.
I stepped forward. My legs felt like stone. My heart hammered against my ribs.
The World Crystal's glow intensified as I placed my palm on its surface. A pulse of energy surged through me, filling my veins with warmth and cold all at once.
And then the voice came, clear and absolute:
"Skill Acquired: Echo Step (Low Tier)."
Silence.
I blinked, waiting for more. Surely there had to be more.
But there wasn't.
Just the words, lingering like a cruel joke in the air.
"Echo Step?" Someone snorted nearby. "What even is that supposed to do? Run away while making noise?"
Laughter spread through the crowd, sharp and unforgiving.
"Low Tier? Wow, what a waste."
"So much for the hardworking big brother. Guess chopping wood was your peak, huh?"
I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood.
No… no, this isn't what I worked for. This isn't how it was supposed to go.
I dared to glance at my family.
Mom tried to smile, but tears shimmered in her eyes.
Dad's jaw tightened, his hand resting protectively on Blanc's shoulder.
Blanc looked confused... sad... like the world had just betrayed him too.
My chest ached.
I turned away from the crowd, walking back with wooden steps, the voices of mockery trailing behind me like shackles.
"Guess not everyone's meant to shine," someone whispered.
"Poor guy. Bet he'll never leave the village."
I passed Terren, who smirked but didn't say anything. Maybe he thought pity was kinder than mockery.
Lira met my eyes, hers soft and filled with something close to guilt. She opened her mouth as if to speak but said nothing.
Joren scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Hey... Keal, maybe... maybe it's one of those hidden potential skills. You know? Sometimes Low Tiers evolve, right?"
I managed a weak smile. "Yeah. Maybe."
But deep down, I wasn't sure I believed that.
Later, when the ceremony ended, the village square was filled with laughter and the crackle of celebration fires. Some were already testing their skills—blades of flame danced through the air, ethereal spirits weaved between the dancers.
I sat beneath the Ancient Oak, staring at my hands.
Echo Step.
What does it even mean?
Is it movement? Is it sound? Or is it just... nothing?
I clenched my fists.
No. I can't afford to break now.
"Mind if I sit?"
Lira's voice. I looked up to find her standing there, her charm bracelet swaying softly in the wind.
"Sure." I scooted over, and she sat beside me, pulling her knees to her chest.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
Then, quietly, she said, "You know
... no one can tell you what your skill means. Only you can figure that out."
I let out a bitter laugh. "Easy for you to say. You've got Spirit Bind. People respect that."
She sighed. "People respect what they understand. That doesn't mean it's worth more than what you have."
I didn't answer.
"Terren's already talking about forming a hunting party next week. Think you'll join?" she asked, voice careful.
"Doubt they'll want me. What's a Low Tier Echo Step good for? Making monster footsteps louder?"
Lira frowned but didn't argue.
Maybe because part of her knew I was right.
The village square buzzed with celebration, but it felt a world away from where I sat beneath the Ancient Oak.
Lira eventually stood, brushing dust from her skirt. "Tomorrow's a new day, Keal. Don't let this be the end of your story."
I gave a faint smile, hollow but grateful. "Thanks, Lira."
She hesitated as if wanting to say more but thought better of it. With a small nod, she turned and walked away, her silhouette fading into the flickering glow of the bonfires.
The laughter and cheers of the square blurred into a distant hum, muffled by the hollow ache pounding in my chest.
I sat alone beneath the Ancient Oak, its branches stretching overhead like cold arms that offered no comfort.
"Echo Step."
The words repeated in my mind like a cruel echo.
Low Tier. Useless. Laughable.
What had I done wrong?
Had I not worked hard enough?
Had I not prayed enough?
All those hours chopping wood, fixing fences, protecting Blanc from bullies, helping Mom carry water... what was it all for?
The world didn't care.
It never cared.
I clenched my fists until my knuckles turned white, but no power surged through me. No magic answered my call.
Just... silence.
The same silence I had feared.
Tears burned at the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them away, ashamed to cry where others might see.
Behind me, the bonfires crackled. Terren laughed with his friends, flames dancing along his sword. Lira's Spirit Bind weaved threads of glowing light in the air. Even Joren, who had feared failure most, now smiled and celebrated.
And me?
I was the boy with Echo Step.
A joke.
I dug my nails into my palms.
How was I supposed to protect them like this?
How could I keep Blanc safe? How could I make Mom smile or let Dad rest without worry, if the world itself deemed me worthless?
The weight of failure crushed down on me, cold and suffocating.
For a brief, horrible moment... I wished I hadn't gone at all.
Maybe it would've been better not to know.
I sat there until the voices faded and the night wind grew colder. Until even the laughter of my peers felt distant, like echoes from a place I no longer belonged to.
What now?
I didn't know.
I didn't know anything anymore.
Eventually, I forced myself to stand. My legs felt like stone. My chest felt empty.
The walk home was long, though the village wasn't far. Every step felt heavier than the last.
I paused at the door of our house, heart pounding, shame burning beneath my skin.
What would I say?
How could I face them?
I rested my hand against the doorframe, fighting the lump rising in my throat.
I failed you.
But I couldn't stay out here forever.
So I pushed open the door, stepping inside...
…bracing myself for the disappointment I feared most.