A week had passed since the ceremony concluded.
Yet this ceremony had been unlike any that came before it—one marked by upheaval, omens, and revelations that none present would soon forget.
Scholars and rulers across the world reached the same unsettling conclusion: the fragile peace that had long defined the World of Elyth was nothing more than a comforting illusion, one that might soon be shattered beyond repair.
For the gods had stirred at last.
They had chosen their champions.
Unable to manifest fully within the mortal realm, where the natural laws of mana would drain and weaken them, the deities instead bestowed fragments of their power upon mortal vessels. These chosen heralds, individuals of noble lineage deemed worthy of wielding divine authority, now walked the world as living conduits of their patrons' will.
The Nations that were blessed with these individuals had kept this a secret, of course. It was far too dangerous for the common people to know about this, as it would cause widespread panic and chaos. Thus, the leaders of each major nation had an impromptu conference. One where those who had the gods' blessings were now called Enders, each with varying levels of power.
However, even those who were not blessed by the gods possessed attributes and far superior, purer manas than their predecessors. It was not too hard for the populace to realize that times were changing. Old legends would be forced to perish, and new legends will rise.
***********************************
But Aly was oblivious to all this, after all.
He was just a commoner.
No.
He was far below a commoner.
An outcast, who had once dreamt of transforming his life around, only to be dealt the cruelest of fates.
He had been cursed at the ceremony.
Perhaps it would not have been a better fate if he had been blessed with an attribute as well.
But alas, the world was never kind to him.
His face was contorted, looking rather ugly as he grimaced.
He was staring at the status screen that was now in front of him.
[User: Alymur of Noone]
Status: Alive
Age: 14
Attribute: N/A
Blessing: N/A
Curses:
1. Prey:
You have been marked as unsightly and forever weak—a prey for forces stronger than you.
Run and hide, little lamb. May you survive by sheer luck, for that is all someone like you can depend on.
A mere stepping stone.
No.
A PREY TO BE PREYED UPON.
2. Stench of Death:
Are you a parasite? What are you?
You reek of death, little lamb, and unfortunately for you, misfortune and death will always be your one and only true love.
No living being—rich or poor, good or evil, ill or healthy—will ever want to be associated with you.
Cursed to be alone.
Cursed to death.
Cursed to misfortune.
Ahh… little lamb, how does it feel…
to be loved by death and misfortune?
3. Mana-Tainted:
Oh, little lamb… did you think we would have mercy on you?
Perhaps you could escape your pitiful fate and live a better life?
Don't be so naive.
You will never be granted the ability to wield mana.
Your capacity has not been emptied—it has been erased.
Little lamb, little lamb… oh, what will you do?
What a fate you have been sentenced to.
Mana Essence: 0/0
Rank: Null]
The boy had been crying ever since he had received his hand. People had started looking at him differently; if perhaps before they all stared at him with disdain, they now stared at him with pure unbridled hatred.
Everyone had distanced themselves from him, and even the sisters looked at him differently.
People started bullying him, for he was nothing but easy prey.
He could no longer stand it.
Their glares.
The noise.
He felt as if he was drowning in a sea of voices, and no matter how far he distanced himself, he could still feel.
So in sheer desperation, he ran away from the Orphanage and the City. He was now back in the caves he had been in a week prior, resting right beneath the tree.
He moved his gaze to the right, where he saw the black wolf cub lying by his side.
For some reason, Sylvie was the only exception to his curses; she still treated him the same.
He had no idea why, and even if he wanted answers, he knew it was pointless to know.
What point was there in knowing?
He was much more concerned with understanding his curses.
He already knew the stench of death made it so that living beings hated him.
He knew he had been cursed to never wield mana and to forever be a prey.
But he wanted to struggle; he wanted strength. But no matter what he did, it seemed as if nobody in this world wanted him to grow strong.
Curses, after all, much like blessings, had their own flaws that allowed their host to deal with them.
But he had never seen anyone, be it past or present, be cursed this severely.
In the end, he decided to accept his fate.
Today was the day he had long prepared.
"Sylvie, I am sorry for it all. It seems like I won't be able to fullfill my promises to you"
"Perhaps in another life…"he said grimly while staring at his only friend.
He moved his hands and picked her up, placing her on his lap. His pale skinny hands glided through the fur of the warm cub.
He had thoroughly enjoyed his time, and without delaying the inevitable, he pulled out a small bottle of pills, shakily opened the lid and popped the pills into his mouth.
He kept on going, until eventually the bottle ended up empty.
Alymur of Noone was no more. His mouth was covered in foam, his body limb.
Sylvie glimpsed at him, her bright yellow eyes focused entirely on him, before eventually letting out a low whimper.
And outside of the cave, the pale blue moon shone ominously. Illuminating the world in an eerie pale blue light.