The dilapidated room was silent save for my ragged breathing. My palms pressed to the floor, sweat dripping from my jaw, my entire body trembling from yet another failed attempt. I could not give up here. This was the hardest thing I had ever attempted in my life, but it would be worthwhile. A chance to claw my way out of this dump.
Elias knelt a few feet away, watching me fail. "Again," he said softly. I clenched my teeth, my pride had already been ground to dust. I had originally approached this training with my usual arrogant attitude. Certainly I could master such a simple concept if I just tried with real effort, I had thought. But hour after hour of failure had stripped me raw. My mind no longer burned with excuses or defiance; only a stubborn, quiet desperation to understand remained. "I'm trying," I muttered, forcing air into my lungs. "I know," Elias replied in his even, steady tone. "Which is precisely why I won't stop teaching you.Your mana isn't silent, Reed. You just can't hear it yet." I closed my eyes and tried to focus on my core, that elusive energy Elias so insistently believed was there. I tried to feel it, like heat clinging to the skin on a summer day, or the rhythm of breath in the lungs. But nothing came. Nothing besides emptiness. My frustration grew yet Elias's calm presence steadied me, kept me from breaking completely. I've really come to trust this man, I thought to myself. A real trust – something I never once experienced in my past life of lies and fakeness.
Elias:
I watched Reed's face carefully. I remembered being the same once – frustrated, angry, chained by the belief in limits that existed only in my own mind. I could see Reed standing at that same threshold, and for that reason, I refused to relent. Then the air shifted. I felt it before I saw her – the heavy weight of a presence veiled in power. "It's been a while," a voice called, clear and cutting. Reed's eyes snapped open. A figure strode into view, clad in full armor that gleamed like polished steel, scaled to mimic the hide of a dragon. A helm obscured her face. At her hip hung a weapon – heavy, angular, dangerous even at rest. She moved with the measured grace of someone trained as a beast since childhood. My lips curved into a wry smile. "If it isn't The Shackled Beast," I said. "To what do we owe the pleasure of attracting such a high-ranking Knight's attention?" She tilted her head, the faintest laugh escaping the confines of her helm. "The kingdom's traitor, playing teacher? How strange. Tell me, Elias Moreau, what are you planning? Teaching this boy Vis manipulation… for what end?" "Would you believe me if I said curiosity?" I asked. Her gauntlet brushed the hilt of her weapon. " I would believe you're lying. Whatever you're plotting, I'll be watching closely." With that, she turned and walked away. The weight of her presence lingered long after her armored steps faded into the distance.
Reed:
I collapsed back onto the floor, my body trembling. 'Who the hell was that?" I asked, still shaken by the sheer pressure she emitted. Elias let out a breath, lowering himself to sit. "That was a Knight of Dracovenia. More specifically, a high-ranking Knight. Aeloria. A demi-human whose family was slaughtered when she was just a child. She was brought here as a slave, only to be measured, tested and found valuable. The kingdom saw potential in her mana, so they molded her into an unyielding weapon." I propped myself up on my elbows. My interest was piqued. Elias continued, "They trained her without mercy. No softness, no childhood. Only drills and blood, and she thrived in it. She grew stronger, sharper. They forged her into the perfect blade. Now she is their prize knight, feared across the realm. People call her The Shackled Beast. A reminder of her chains to the kingdom – and the power she carries." I sat there in silence, my mind overflowing with imagery.
The Shackled Beast:
The clank of my armor echoed as I strode through the barracks. I didn't remove my helm. I rarely did, not among the kingdom's soldiers, not among the townspeople. My identity had long since blurred into the legend they had given me. I was less a person and more a title. I could barely remember the faces of my family now – the warmth of my mother's embrace, the smell of my father's coat. Those memories had been burned away, replaced with the cold taste of steel and the acrid stench of blood. As a child, I had screamed when they forced a blade into my hands. I had wept when the drills left my arms bruised and broken. But each tear, each hesitation, was beaten out of me. One day, the crying stopped. I no longer trembled. I no longer resisted. My motives narrowed into one: grow strong enough to kill the very people who chained me. This kingdom was built on power after all. I learned the rhythm of combat the way the others learned lullabies. My first kill was abrupt. I still remember the blood – hot against my skin – and the way I vomited afterward, the crushing weight of what I had done. But they praised me. They told me this was my purpose. So I fought. Mission after mission. Enemy after enemy. Each kill dulled the pain. Each battle made me stronger. My mana pool grew, shaped by constant use and innate ability, until I was unmatched among my peers in the utilization of Vis. The people whispered of me: The Shackled Beast. Half woman, half weapon. A slave turned legend. But behind the helm, behind the title, I was still shackled. No matter how high I climbed, I still belonged to them. Every victory was theirs. Every life I took was in their name. And now Elias Moreau – the traitor who had walked away from it all, the man with dead eyes who I was tasked to keep watch on – stood before me with a boy at his side. A boy who was weak, struggled and failed. Yet still tried again and again. A boy whose eyes burned with resolve. I should have ended him right then. But something in Elias's gaze, and in the boy's persistence, stirred something I had thought long dead within my heart.
Reed groaned, rolling onto his side, breaking me from my thoughts. "Damn it," he muttered. "Why can't I get it!?" Anger and frustration strained his voice. I had lingered nearby, unseen. I told myself I was simply ensuring Elias wasn't plotting rebellion. But something compelled me to step forward. "Your problem," I said, my voice cutting through the silence, "is that you're treating mana like a weapon. Like something to seize by force. It isn't. It can be used that way, yes – but fundamentally, you have to listen to it." He looked up at me, visibly startled. "And what would you know?" I almost laughed. Strange boy. I reached up and unfastened my helm. "I know because I was forged in it," I said, revealing the glow of my demi-human eyes – mana detection, a natural trait of my kind.
Reed:
"Wow… beautiful." For the first time, I saw her face – sharp, striking with golden eyes that glowed faintly, silver her tumbling past her shoulders. She was more beautiful than any gold-digger I remembered from my past life. She resembled a Scandinavian goddess, but multiplied tenfold. I looked over at Elias, mouth agape. He only watched, a faint smile tugging at his lips, as if he had expected this all along. She crouched beside me, extending a gauntleted hand. "Give me your hand," she said. I hesitated, still awestruck, then slowly reached out. Her grip was firm, steady, guiding my hand to her chest. "Close your eyes," she instructed. "Don't force it, feel the flow. Mana isn't fire to be stoked. It's a current – it moves with or without you. All you have to do is attune yourself to it." Her words were patient, precise, carrying the weight of years of experience. My breathing steadied. For the first time I felt something faint. A flicker. Not enough to control but enough to know it was there. My eyes snapped open. "I–" "Don't speak," she cut me off. "Hold onto it. Feel it before you lose it." I hadn't even realized but she had redirected my hand to my own chest. The current slipped away – but I felt it. I closed my eyes again, her pulse thrummed through my hand, steady and strong. I felt the flow, I finally felt it, I reached for it then started reeling it in. And then suddenly something shifted. A surge of power rushed toward me, like a tsunami breaking free. "...!!!" But just as quickly as it began, she yanked her hand away, throwing mine down. "What the…" she muttered, eyes narrowing. Elias looked just as shocked. I glanced between them, confused. Not reading the room, I blurted out, "I felt it! Teach me more!" Her expression hardened, though I could see the faintest crack of unease. "Elias," she said slowly, still staring at me, "This boy just tapped into my mana. Not Vis. Raw mana. Not only that… he absorbed it, directly." Elias's eyes widened.
With that touch, my magical journey had been set into place.