Chapter 3: The Spark of Will

Kael opened his eyes to the first light of dawn, every bone in his body aching. His wounds reminded him of their presence with a fresh, sharp sting. As daybreak slowly descended upon the village, a pale golden hue spread through the smoke that had lingered since the night before. The scent of charred beams and damp ash was still heavy in the air, but through that bitterness came something else.

Warmth. Softness.

The scent of herbal tea wafted from the kitchen—that familiar, comforting aroma was enough to clear the dark clouds in his mind. It was the scent that always made him feel safe.

Kael sat up slowly. Through the gap in the door, he saw Nerya. Though her shoulders were slightly slumped from exhaustion, her movements remained calm; she was pouring tea and carefully setting aside the pieces of a plate broken during the night.

Looking at her son, Nerya smiled tenderly. "Good morning, my son. I see you're an early riser. Sit down; the tea will soothe your pain a little."

"Good morning, Mother," Kael said, sinking into a chair at the table. He rubbed his aching arm while watching her every move. Nerya placed a hot mug in front of him.

"Drink. Your body is still repairing itself."

Kael wrapped both hands around the mug, the warmth spreading through his palms. "Mother... we begin today, don't we?"

Nerya pulled out a chair and sat beside him. Her gaze grew deep. "Magic is not just a tool of power, Kael; it is a reflection of the soul upon the world. Do not rush, for any structure without a solid foundation is doomed to collapse. Let me explain how the world of magic works."

Drawing imaginary circles on the table with her finger, she began: "In our world, magical power is measured by Rings. The highest level a human can reach is the 10th Ring. As far as I know, there is no 10th-Ring mage alive today, but ancient records speak of a hero who saved the kingdom from a massive calamity. To common folk, it is now told as a fairy tale."

She paused before continuing: "Magic types are divided into Elemental, Light, Dark, and Special Classes. Humans mostly control the natural elements. Light magic is exceptionally rare, found only among high-ranking clergy or the aristocrats of the Central Kingdoms. But regardless of the type, the absolute way to perform magic is to first learn how to govern the Mana within your body."

Nerya went to an old, ornate chest and opened it with a faint creak. She pulled out a small, velvet-covered box. Inside was a smooth, crystal-like sphere, with a misty fog swirling within. She placed it before Kael.

"This is a testing sphere, Kael. It shows which type of magic a disciple is attuned to. Let me show you."

Nerya placed her hand on the sphere. Instantly, a brilliant green light erupted, filling the entire house. The air changed; the walls seemed to vanish, replaced by the fresh, serene scent of a thousand blooming flowers. Kael felt a peace he had never known before.

"As you see, my magic is a special class of Earth magic, based on nature. Elves use a similar power, but they do not cast spells as we do; they hear and feel nature itself. Ours is based more on formulas and study."

She withdrew her hand, and the green light faded. "Now, it's your turn. Place your hand on the sphere and release your mana."

Kael swallowed hard and touched the cool crystal. In an instant, the gentle green atmosphere was violently replaced. Energy erupting from the sphere turned deep violet and black, wrapping around the room like shadowy vines. The morning sun seemed to vanish into an artificial night, and the cheerful chirping of birds was replaced by the unsettling caws of crows outside.

Nerya panicked and pulled Kael's hand away. "Mother, what happened? Why isn't mine green like yours?"

Nerya's face went pale. She had noticed small, stubborn sparks of fire flickering within that darkness. She couldn't bring herself to tell him about the Dark Magic; she feared what it meant for his future.

"No, my son," she lied, trying to keep her voice steady. "Fire, Kael. You have a very intense, raw affinity for Fire. The intensity of the colors you saw was simply due to the sheer heat of your potential."

Kael jumped up, thrilled. "So I can learn magic!"

"Yes. But first, you must feel the mana. I want you to imagine the energy in your body flowing to this point," she said, drawing a small dot on his palm.

Kael closed his eyes. He felt a spark—a hot energy like molten metal flowing from his chest to his arm. When he opened his eyes, a tiny, flickering fireball was dancing above his palm. He had cast a 1st-Ring fire spell on his very first try.

Over the following week, Nerya taught him the art of Wordless Casting. Kael practiced until he was dizzy, learning the hard way that Mana was a limited resource. One day, while practicing in the forest, he remembered Ashael's advice about "hearing the forest." He knelt, placing his hands on the earth, combining Ashael's feeling with his mother's focus.

He felt the energy deep below the surface. Channelling his mana into the ground, he attempted a 2nd-Ring spell: Flame Wall.

A massive pillar of fire roared upward, the heat so intense it instantly withered the leaves of the trees above. Kael collapsed, his lungs burning. "Too much..." he wheezed. "I have to control it... or it will consume me."

The next week was a cycle of exhaustion and discovery. While he still couldn't perform the healing spells he dreamed of, his fire grew sharper and more obedient every day.

That afternoon, Kael walked into the village center. It looked like a battlefield, but the community was working together. He saw Boran, the retired soldier and blacksmith, lifting heavy rubble with ease.

"Kael! Hold it right there," Boran roared, his voice like thunder. He clapped a massive hand on Kael's shoulder. "I saw that move last night, lad. If it weren't for you, there'd be nothing left of this village but bones. I've seen few men as brave as you."

Others stopped him too—mothers thanking him for protecting their children, neighbors shaking his hand with gratitude. Kael felt bashful but his instinct to protect grew stronger. He eventually stopped by the Great Oak Tavern. Inside, the atmosphere was thick with the scent of yeast and spices.

"Look who it is!" Grog, the tavern owner, shouted. "Yesterday's child, today's lion-hearted man!"

Old Silas raised a wooden mug. "Grog! Fill a glass of Red Apple Cider for the lad. It's on me! If he hadn't stood against those shadows, none of us would be drinking here today."

Kael sat down, feeling like a stranger despite the warmth. The cold cider washed away his fatigue, but the tingling in his hands—as if he were holding a storm in his fingertips—told him things would never be the same.

When he returned home that evening, he found Nerya studying an old book by candlelight.

"The power wanted to pull me today, Mother," Kael admitted. "When I cast the Flame Wall, it felt like it was controlling me."

Nerya squeezed his hand. "Power likes to test its master, Kael. You have struck a spark today, but it is your will that must turn that spark into a torch. Rest now."

Lying in bed, Kael felt the energy racing through his veins like a trapped river. As he drifted into a heavy sleep, his final thought remained: My will... I must master it before it masters me.