LightReader

Chapter 1 - The man with the mask

The world was a scene of white. As snow rained down from the sky and a freezing wind blew through the streets. The tightly shut windows and doors trembled under the howling wind. Winter had arrived once again.

The wooden roof creaked and groaned while ice cold water slowly slithered and dripped through the cracks. The droplets fell straight onto his rough raven black hair, smoothly sliding down and seeping into the pillow of the young man.

Corin jolted awake upon the freezing touch. He looked up at the wooden roof that let out a painful creak. Another drop of water trickled down, passing through the hole of his mask, landing straight into one of his pale grey eyes.

He let out a small grunt while quickly closing his eye. After the burning sensation faded he let out a long sigh and slowly got up. The wooden bed frame also let out a painfully loud groan as if drawing it's last breath.

Another chilly shiver ran through Corin's body. His blanket was as stiff as stone and his torn mattress had been frozen from the inside out.

Looking through the dark damp room his eyes nestled on the piece of mirror forcefully buried in the wooden wall. In the reflection he saw the white expressionless mask staring back at him. He tilted his head slightly like a curious cat, the shark contrast between his raven black hair that sparkled slightly because of all the coal dust stuck in it and the white expressionless mask that tightly stuck to his face complemented by the pale grey eyes that were barely visible almost made him look like some sort of ghostly creature.

After a few seconds of staring and examining himself Corin fully got up. The wooden floor also greeted him with a loud creak but he payed it no mind and started humming a happy tune while walking over to his desk. His expression never changed, much like the expressionless mask that was stuck to his face.

His eyes scanned over the many books and papers that littered his desk, this was his priced possession. A couple of years were spent to gather, read and write all these books and papers. Books had no business being in a small shabby house like this. Poor people like Corin could obviously not afford it, but he had found a simple solution to that problem.. Stealing.

Reaching over, his long slender fingers gripped around a half used candle and dragged it closer to himself. Another cold shiver ran down his spine as he reached down and opened a wooden drawer. Inside lay two tiny red stones.

Grabbing the red stones he quickly started bashing them against each other above the candle. Bright sparks flew everywhere before landing on the wick of the candle and igniting it. These two stones where tiny fire-stones, another thing he had stolen. Like the name suggest they are great at creating a fire

He grabbed the shabby wooden chair, scraping it against the floor before sitting down.

The candle flickered barley illuminating an old and worn book. It had once been a fancy book with a clean leather cover, but after years of reading plus the harsh environments it had gone through, there were no more traces of its previously majestic self.

Corin grabbed the heavy book, dragging it closer to himself before swinging it open. The big rough papers stuck to each other, chips and cuts were visible everywhere at the edges, but the middle of the pages seemed untouched.

This book was his actual most priced possession, something a person of his stature should never posses. It was the sole reason for why he spent all his time learning to read and write. A precious find he had while scavenging a broken down building. He didn't know how or why the previous owner of that building had this book but he knew it was precious.

Corin knew something was wrong with him. He knew he wasn't like the rest. For starters other people didn't have a mask stuck to their face. But that wasn't the main reason, he lacked something more, he didn't understand people.

He had tried understanding people, the way people reacted, why they made so many stupid decisions, why they panicked so much, stressed so much. But he never got it. He didn't get why they laughed, why they cried.

He observed other people closely but every time he thought he had all the rules down someone laughed, cried or shouted for some completely different reason.

Often he didn't even know if there was any reason at all.

His gaze landed on the Title of the book, "Record of The Gifted." before turning his head to look at the mirror shard again.

Now slightly illuminated by the candle his pale grey eyes shone through from behind the expressionless mask.

He wanted to understand why he was different and felt that this book in front of him was his only chance.

Under the cold dark sky the wind let out a fierce howl as it shook his entire house. The wood croaked and groaned back as if having a conversation. Corin's eyes diverted back to the book and he started reading where he last left of.

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The Fisherman

A common ability part of the utility class. Has four known stages of evolution.

1. Fisherman: Allows the user to hook anything in a 10 meter radius reeling it towards himself. The user gains impeccable balance.

2. Netcaster: The user can cast up to four hooks at a time, drawing a net in between them. The range doubles up to 20 meters. The user gains increased strength.

3. Windlass: The user can anchor himself or others holding them in place. The range of hook is doubled up to 40 meters. The user gains a big increase in strength.

4. Dredger of the Deep: The user gains fish-like scales on their body, giving the ability to swim faster and breath underwater. The user can communicate with sea creatures. They can anchor tree things at the same time and cast up to twelve hooks.

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"Old man Harlan seems to have this Fisherman ability.", he thought.

He had seen Harlan pull things towards himself in some magical way before. His eyes scanned over the text again.

While this book did explain the abilities, it left out a lot of the technical parts. For example it never mentioned how to cast the hook or even that the hook was completely invisible.

It had been like this with all the previous abilities he read too. After thinking over it for a while he had come to the conclusion that it was different for every person. There was also still the possibility that the author just didn't bother putting in so much detail or it was just common sense for them.

Corin's eyes drifted down to the bottom of the page.

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Progression.

From Fisherman to Netcaster.

Most successful: Eat the heart of a Grey Angular Fish.

Known variants: Eat 6 eyes of a Eight Headed Octopus. Fish up a Sanguine Whale.

From Netcaster to Windlass.

Most successful: Find a treasure in the deep.

Known variants: None

From Windlass to Dredger of the Deep.

Most successful: Drink a soup containing Mermaid tears and Golden Carp scales.

Known variants: Replace Golden Carp scales with Blue Cloud Whale teeth and Puffer Fish poison.

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Corin's brows furrowed while he whispered to himself "Always so random.".

Every ability he read was so different in their progression. He also couldn't understand most of what was written down in the progression. Sometimes because he didn't know what it was, like a Grey Angular Fish or Sanguine Whale for example, but he could make out that they were some kind of creatures.

Sometimes it was just too vague, "Find a treasure in the deep." for example. What is considered a treasure? What does "The deep" mean, is it just underwater? But then how far underwater?

These thought raced through his head and he felt that a lot was left out again.

His main concern wasn't with any of this however, and he started thinking over it again.

After a while he turned his head to look at the mirror shard. The expressionless mask stared back at him through the reflection.

"Still not a single clue." He mumbled while his hand touched the mask stuck to his face.

His main concern was, that he still hadn't found anything relating his own ability. 

The house shook once more under the heavy freezing wind. Corin focused his attention back on the book and kept reading through the cold dark night, the half melted candled barely illuminating the room.

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