Wren Kain IV
What does it truly mean to reach the pinnacle of magic?
If history serves as any witness, no species has ever touched that summit. The chronicle of mortal existence is little more than a record of clumsy folly, tragic misjudgment, and lingering imperfection.
Humans, despite being blessed with the versatility to channel all four basic elements, such as fire, water, earth, and air—are tragically bound by their short life span. Just as their potential begins to bloom, time rots them like a stem, scattering a lifetime of progress back into dust.
The elves possess an admirable lifespan, living three to five centuries, yet their spiritual resonance is narrow. Most spend their long centuries bound strictly to the element of wind, with only a rare few ever awakening the subtle magic of plant and wood. Dwarves, though blessed with robust lifespans that keep them in their physical prime twice as long as a human, remain forever tethered to earth and fire.
Humans. Elves. Dwarves.
They are different shapes of the same truth.
They are all flawed.
Always limited.
Even those who claim themselves to be gods are no exception.
But even imperfect beings had their ways to exist and improve even just a little.
Becoming a standard in their own world.
Anything less than all of that should be better off dead.
And then came Arthur Leywin.
The first lesser being to ever break past that limitation. The first ever to achieve an aether core and unlock aether arts so exquisite they could stir envy in the hearts of the asuras. Encased in a body no longer constrained by mortal weakness, it wouldn't be ridiculous to say he's one with the genuine potential to eclipse even Kezess Indrath.
An anomaly in every sense of the word.
And speaking of anomalies...
***
Arthur Leywin
"How do you feel?" Sylvie asked, stepping back to give the young man room. "Any pain or discomfort?"
"How do I feel?" Delsin repeated Sylvie's question, his fingers lightly tracing the glowing rune carved onto his left arm—the permanent sign of their newly forged bond. "I'm feeling... fine, actually."
Since my mana core had been destroyed, the original bond between Sylvie and me was also destroyed.
I leaned in, searching his posture for any subtle sign of strain. "Is anything off?"
"No, sir."
Beside us, Wren's quill scratched frantically against parchment, writing down every subtle shift in mana and aether with great precision.
"Step closer, Delsin," I said, gesturing toward the open space before me.
"Yes, sir!" He obeyed without hesitation, taking a firm stance.
"Now," I instructed, locking eyes with him. "Try to activate Sylvie's beast will. Just close your eyes, take a deep breath, reach into your core, and let your will accept hers."
"Come on! First try of the day! You can do it!" Regis chimed in, his shadow-flame tail wagging as he offered encouragement with unearned authority, acting for all the world as if he were the one doing the teaching.
Delsin's brow furrowed, a faint sweat breaking across his forehead as the ambient mana began to ripple around his frame. "I'm... trying..."
"Why am I even here? Can you just lock me up?" Nico finally spoke, his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall behind us.
"All cells now serve as shelters for the people," I replied without turning around. "Besides, it's best if I keep an eye on you myself."
Nico scoffed, his gaze drifting over to my companion before he pointed accusingly. "And what is this thing anyway? Your stand?"
Regis burst out laughing, his flame flickering brightly. "Haha—it's funny how you put it that way."
Minutes crawled by, the air thick with tension as Delsin struggled to sync his core with the dormant power of a dragon's will. The raw mana flickered, flared, and then sputtered like a dying candle flame.
"It's fine," Sylvie said softly. "Just take your time."
"I... actually think he should take a break, Arthur," Regis added, turning to meet my gaze with a touch of concern. "Forcing it won't help."
"No, he's fine," I replied, keeping my voice firm, grounding him amidst the pressure. "Keep concentrating, Delsin."
"Are you dead serious about turning him into another you?" Nico asked with a bitter undertone in his voice.
I ignored his question entirely, keeping my gaze fixed on the boy in front of me.
Minutes bled into hours. Delsin remained motionless, locked in deep focus, yet nothing happened.
Wren still kept on watching.
Sylvie and Regis patiently waited, holding out hope for a miracle, while Nico merely let out a long, bored yawn.
A heavy realization settled in my chest. Maybe they were right. Perhaps I had grown too impatient, pushing him harder than his body could handle. He needed time.
"Enough, Delsin! Take a—"
"No—wait a—" Wren blurted out, cutting across my words.
Before either of us could finish our sentences, the world around us went to a dead halt. The vibrant hues of the chamber instantly drained, as if the world were being viewed through an inverted lens.
Specks of dust and the atmosphere's mana particles hung frozen in the air. Nico's sleepy, cynical expression was also locked in like a statue.
Only Wren, Sylvie, Regis, and I remained unfrozen within the static void.
Time had stopped.
Strands of Delsin's dark hair bled into a striking silver of white, while golden runes flared to life across his arms and etched themselves beneath his eyes.
We all sprang to our feet.
"...H—HAHH!!! Am I doing it... General??" Delsin gritted his teeth as he spoke.
"YES! YOU DID IT! YOU HAVE UNLEASHED THE WORLD!!!" Regis hollered, spouting nonsense in his excitement.
"You have achieved the Acquire Phase of the dragon will. You're using static void, which is time stop," I corrected him, stepping closer to inspect the transformation.
"Don't stop! Keep going, boy!" Wren barked, his eyes wide with fervor.
We crowded around him to examine the marks burning across his skin. Aside from being slightly broader and more pronounced, these golden runes were almost identical to the ones I used to bear.
"This is incredible!" Wren muttered, mesmerized as the surrounding aether particles vibrated violently, reluctantly obeying Delsin's will to freeze time.
"Arthur! Look at this!" Wren grabbed my shoulder, physically turning my head to force my attention toward Delsin's back.
Down his spine, another stream of golden rune was squirming like living thread—moving like a snake as if the rune were trying to shape itself into an entirely new form.
"Delsin, how do you feel right now?" I asked, watching the strain in his posture. "Tired? Exhausted?"
"I, uh, I feel—"
"He feels lighter and stronger..." Sylvie interjected gently, her fingers lightly tracing the glowing runes on Delsin's arm.
"Wow, h-how'd you know??" Delsin asked.
"We share a bond now," Sylvie murmured. "Even though I can hardly feel its full resonance yet, I can sense your condition."
"That's so cool!" Delsin breathed.
I turned my head toward our resident scholar. "Are you done, Wren?"
"I've got it," Wren said, making one final flourish on the parchment before snapping his journal shut. "I'm done."
"Alright, Delsin," I said, giving him a firm nod. "You can stop now."
Delsin let out a ragged breath. With a sudden sharp release of pressure, the spell collapsed. Color rushed back into the room like a bursting dam, and time snapped back into motion.
"You did great, Delsin! Keep on—" Sylvie began, but immediately after the runes were gone, Delsin's entire body went limp, and he collapsed.
"Hey, what the hell happened??!" Nico asked, unaware of what had just transpired.
Sylvie and Regis rushed forward, catching Delsin before he hit the ground completely.
"What—how?" I knelt beside him, pressing two fingers to his neck to check his pulse. He's fine, still breathing and just physically exhausted.
It was only a few moments! He should be fine! I thought, frustration flickering briefly before reason took over.
No, it made sense. Time stop on your first attempt took a massive toll on a mortal body. To me before, no matter how much I used it or trained it, Static Void would never be any easier than it was previously. But Delsin was different. Perhaps he can be better at it. He just needed time to adjust to the burden.
"Take him to rest, Regis," I instructed softly, easing the boy onto my companion's back.