Mana, I learned, was not equal in everyone. It flowed differently depending on one's affinity—the elemental bond tied to the soul.
The common affinities were four: fire, water, wind, and earth. Simple, straightforward, and everywhere. But there were rarer affinities too, whispered of in books and tavern tales. Lightning. Ice. Light. Darkness. Gravity. Metal. Blood. And more besides. Rare affinities shaped legends—heroes and villains whose power dwarfed entire armies.
Affinity wasn't just about the element itself, but also the strength of the connection. Low, mid, high, and peak—like layers of a ladder. A low fire affinity mage might conjure nothing more than sparks their entire life, while one with peak affinity could reduce a fortress to ash with a gesture.
Children usually inherited their parents' affinities. Father Ethan had a medium fire affinity and a low wind affinity. Mother Anna had a medium light affinity and a touch of earth. If fate were kind, I would have inherited one of theirs.
But fate had other plans.
Purple hair with golden streaks. Red eyes that glowed faintly in the dark. According to everything I read, those colors were no coincidence. Purple meant lightning. Gold meant light. Red meant fire.
Three affinities. One rare, one uncommon, one common.
I didn't yet know the strength of my connection to them—that would only be revealed when I awakened properly—but just the fact that I had lightning affinity made me… unusual. Maybe even dangerous.
Of course, magic wasn't the only path to power in Gaia.
The first great system was that of the Knights. Warriors who refined mana into a force called aura, wrapping it around weapons and their own bodies. Aura made steel sharper, muscles stronger, and defenses sturdier. With elemental affinity fused into aura, a knight could cleave through enemies in a blaze of fire, or move with the swiftness of the wind. They were the backbone of every kingdom's armies.
The second system was that of the Mages. Unlike knights, mages cast spells, shaping mana into elemental attacks or defenses. They were long-range fighters, scholars of magic circles and incantations. Among them were specialists: clerics, who wielded light to heal and protect, and necromancers, who twisted darkness into death magic.
And then there were the rarest of all—the Magic Knights. Those who straddled both paths, mastering aura and spells together. It was said they were few because balancing the two disciplines was nearly impossible. But those who succeeded became forces of nature.
I couldn't help but feel my heart race as I read about them. Magic Knights sounded like protagonists ripped straight from the novels of my past life. And here I was, a boy with lightning, light, and fire affinities.
Was it arrogance to think I might follow that path? Maybe. But the thought wouldn't leave me.
I shut the book one night, staring at the faint glow of the lamp, and whispered to myself:
"This time… I'll carve a life worth remembering."
My previous world had given me nothing but mediocrity. This world, Gaia, was giving me a second chance—and more than that, it was giving me the power to shape my own destiny.
And I wouldn't let it go to waste.