Several more messages continued to appear before Aiden's eyes, each one bringing new information that he struggled to comprehend:
[Replication Authority: The Authority to Replicate any desired thing]
[Space Authority: The Authority to control space]
[GAINING EXP]:
-Daily Missions: New Tasks will be assigned to you at Dawn
-Side Quests: New Quests to be assigned
-Special Quests: New Quests to be assigned
-Permanent Quests: New Quests to be assigned.
[EXP Requirements]:
-200xp require to go up to Level 2
-5000 XP required to raise Host Magic to SSS
-15000 XP required to raise Destruction Authority to Ex-Rank
-1000 XP required to unlock Replication Authority
-1000 XP required to unlock Space Authority
These were the messages that kept flashing before him, words he was still trying to make sense of, when suddenly a new notification appeared:
[Syra's Lair will be sealed shut in 10 minutes]
"I have to go!" Aiden exclaimed, with his voice echoing through the crystal-lit cavern. Strangely enough, life wasn't feeling unbearable any longer. He didn't feel worthless anymore, and suddenly he had a renewed hope about living, something that had been totally dead earlier.
He looked at the vast pile of gold and luxurious items that lay scattered throughout the lair, but he felt no desire to take any of it, for all he had ever wanted for the longest time was magic worth recognizing, and that had been given to him—not just by a little, but in abundance beyond his wildest dreams.
He immediately turned back toward the way he had come and hurried quickly toward the entrance of the cavern, his footsteps pacing faster every second. He eventually left the lair entirely just as the ten-minute warning had suggested, and less than a minute after his departure, the cavern began to shut itself.
The earthen structure slowly patched itself together in a truly remarkable sight, as though someone with powerful Earth Magic was actively shaping it. The cavern sealed shut completely, and immediately the entrance contorted in a peculiar way.
The opening that had once been there was shaved away entirely by some mystical phenomenon, as though there had never been a cavern there in the first place. The surface of the earth that sealed the cavern was so smooth that it looked like a regular wall of stone had replaced the entrance.
The entire surface was now a complete whole, no longer having any opening to enter through. Aiden watched this incredible transformation unfold, then turned back to face the pathway leading away from that place.
He decided to test his magic one more time, just to be absolutely certain. He closed his eyes first, then reopened them, and yes—his senses weren't deceiving him. This was not a dream, not at all, and then just once more, he thrust his hand forward, and from it poured a vast torrent of flames that lit up the entire area before extinguishing again at his will.
"So this is actually happening," he said to himself, staring at the hand that had just produced such an incredible amount of magical fire. If he was assessed as having magic ranked at SS level, every guild in the kingdom would be competing fiercely to recruit him immediately.
Additionally, since he was already of age, every head of a noble family would have already started speaking to King Jarius, offering up their daughters who were ripe for marriage. An S-rank magic user was rare enough—even Dragonhold only produced one per year at most.
An SS-rank magic user, however, had not been seen in such a long time that it was difficult to calculate exactly how long it had been. Aiden had transformed from being the ultimate disappointment for a royal into a walking rarity.
He took one long look toward the path that would lead him home, back to Dragonhold, but then shook his head firmly and simply said, "No." No, he was done with that life. Done with consistently trying to prove himself, done with continuously seeking approval from people who had never valued him.
The kingdom that had always despised him and made him feel worthless, a kingdom that placed so much importance on magical level that one's entire quality of life depended on that single factor. There was classism in most kingdoms, true enough, but Dragonhold took it to an entirely different level.
Then flashes of earlier that day came rushing back into his mind. He gritted his teeth as scorn filled his face, and right then and there he made a firm resolve: "I will burn down this magic division, and you, Jarius, will be the last Crowley on the Wyrm Seat!"
Something fundamental in Aiden had changed. Perhaps it was this somewhat dark part of him that he had secretly wished for but could never voice aloud. After all, he had been too powerless to even back up such thoughts. This system of magic rule had made him chase after approval like a beaten dog, but why should he have to? Why did his worth have to be tied to the strength of his magic?
At this point, he was convinced that he had been given this incredible power for exactly this reason, to burn it all down. It was a resolve, part filled with hatred for the classist system and part filled with contempt for the family that governed over such a cruel and unjust hierarchy.
...
Within the grand throne room of Dragonhold, King Jarius and Queen Helena Crowley sat upon their ornate throne seats, positioned on a raised circular platform accessed by crimson carpet steps.
Massive crystal chandeliers hung from an intricately carved ceiling supported by golden columns, while the black marble floor contrasted beautifully with the rich red furnishings. Tall arched windows allowed natural light to filter through, casting long shadows across the opulent chamber.
A knight in polished armor walked purposefully into the throne room, and upon reaching an appropriate distance from the throne, he dropped to both knees in proper deference. "Your Grace, My Queen," he said in formal greeting.
King Jarius spoke, his tone still somewhat irritated from the earlier events of the day. "Yes, what is it Baran?"
"Your Grace, Prince Aiden left the city gates on horseback," the knight reported quickly and directly.
"What? Where would he know to go outside these walls?" Jarius asked, though it was more of a rhetorical question born of frustration than one requiring an answer.
Before the king could continue, the knight added urgently, "Your Grace, there's one more thing."
"What is that?" Jarius asked, his voice already growing furious at the implications.
"Your Grace, we found the prince's horse wandering back without the prince on it," he reported with evident concern.
"Tsk," the king clicked his tongue in annoyance, then commanded, "Get me Ursula."
"At once, Your Grace," Baran said, standing and offering one more respectful bow before walking out of the grand hall. The guards stationed behind the massive doors quickly pulled them open upon hearing his approaching footsteps, and the knight departed swiftly.
As soon as the knight had left, Queen Helena rose from her smaller throne seat and announced, "I'm retiring to my chambers to get some rest." She bowed slightly to her husband before taking her leave, and the king nodded back as she walked past him steadily and towards another entrance to the side.
Within minutes, she had returned to her private chambers and immediately addressed her handmaiden, who had been following dutifully behind her from the grand hall's entrance.
"Go out there and watch for Guild Captain Ursula. When she arrives at the palace gates, bring her to me instead," Helena instructed.
Her handmaiden bowed respectfully and replied, "Yes, my queen," before taking her leave from the queen's chamber.
Helena watched as her servant departed, then whispered to herself with cold satisfaction, "No one needs the bastard around, and it should stay that way."
...
The scene shifted back to Aiden, who had been walking aimlessly along a winding path with no clear direction in mind. Many things had begun to occur to him at this point, chief among them being that he had never ventured outside the city gates before. In fact, he had barely even left Wyvern's Keep during his entire life.
"The better choice would be to head to Xathia," Aiden said to himself as he walked the lonely paths that evening. It was the closest kingdom to Dragonhold according to his limited knowledge, but there was only one significant problem, he had absolutely no idea how to get there.
"And I should have taken some of that gold," Aiden muttered with a face full of regret. If he had realized he wouldn't be returning to Dragonhold anymore, having a substantial bag of gold would have helped him tremendously in his current predicament, and as if to worsen his already sorry situation, a loud rumble echoed from his stomach, which made him wince slightly.
"Just great, perfect timing," he said sarcastically. His circumstances were truly pitiful at the moment. Fortunately for him, it wasn't long before he spotted a tavern in the distance. From his position on the path, he could see the warm glow of crystals that illuminated the tavern's structure, and he noticed several men stepping out into the evening air.
They were laughing loudly to themselves, clearly intoxicated, as they stumbled about trying to mount their horses and depart. Aiden's path immediately changed as he made his way toward the tavern, hoping to find both sustenance and perhaps some much-needed information about the road ahead.