The morning sun cast a warm glow through the wooden shutters of Ren's modest room. Dust particles danced in the beams of light, creating a serene atmosphere that starkly contrasted with the turmoil within him. Sitting cross-legged on the woven mat, Ren's gaze was fixed on the pulsing mark on his wrist—a serpentine figure entwined with blooming flowers, glowing with a faint, sickly green hue.
His mind raced with questions. The events of the past night felt surreal, yet the tangible mark served as undeniable proof of their reality. He had survived the Nightmare, but what did that truly mean? The hooded figure's words echoed in his mind: "Survive the nightmare, and you shall be reborn."
Reborn into what?
Taking a deep breath, Ren closed his eyes and focused inward. Almost instinctively, he became aware of a new presence within himself—a wellspring of energy that hadn't been there before. It was subtle yet potent, flowing through his veins like a hidden current beneath a calm surface.
Then, as if responding to his introspection, a series of ethereal runes materialized before his mind's eye, glowing softly in the dimness of his closed eyelids.
Name:Ren
True Name:[Unveiled Upon Awakening]
Rank: Sleeper (Dormant)
Aspect: Blooming Blight(Divine)
Aspect Abilities:
Dormant Ability:Venomous Infusion
Ability Description:You can imbue your physical attacks with a toxic essence, causing additional poison damage to your enemies.
Flaw: Drifting Corruption
Your presence subtly taints the environment around you. Prolonged proximity causes organic life to weaken and decay, even without direct contact.
Ren's eyes snapped open, his chest rising and falling with shallow, quick breaths. The runes faded like mist, but their meaning burned into his memory. His Aspect had a name—Blooming Blight—and with it came a double-edged truth. Power, yes… but also a burden.
He reached out tentatively to the small potted plant on his window ledge—a gift from his mother last spring. As his hand hovered inches away, the edges of the nearest leaves began to curl. Minute spots of brown and black blossomed like rot. He jerked his hand back, horrified.
The Flaw wasn't a cruel joke—it was real. And it was always active.
"Drifting Corruption…" he whispered.
Not a touch. Not even contact. Just his presence was enough to sow decay.
He stood and paced the room, frustration boiling beneath his skin. Was this the price of surviving the Nightmare? To be a walking curse?
Yet even as the thought formed, something deeper stirred in him. A memory. The moment he had plunged his poisoned strike into the beast's belly, the surge of power in the Shrine, the bloom of white flowers rising from death.
The Blight was not only rot—it was transformation.
There was purpose in it.
A quiet knock interrupted his spiral.
"Ren? Are you awake?" came his mother's gentle voice from beyond the door.
Panic surged. He glanced back at the dying plant. "Y-yes, Mother. I'm getting dressed."
"Breakfast is ready," she said. Her footsteps retreated down the hall.
Ren exhaled, heart still thudding. He couldn't let her see the plant, the mark, the way his breath felt heavier now. Not yet. He needed to understand this—fully.
He needed time.
The following days passed in a blur of subtle lies and hidden training. Ren wore gloves while working with his mother, claimed headaches to excuse his absence from the herb fields. At night, he crept into the edges of the Mire, pushing the limits of his new ability.
He discovered that focusing his will allowed him to activate the Venomous Infusion at will—channeling the poisonous essence into his strikes. He learned to moderate its strength, even coat it along a weapon's edge. But the Drifting Corruption was harder to control. He left behind curling leaves, patches of dead grass, and blackened bark wherever he lingered too long.
The power was real. But so was the danger.
Then, during one of those secret training nights, he sensed a disturbance—like a breath in the air that didn't belong.
Spinning, staff raised, he faced the same hooded figure from the Shrine.
"You've adapted quickly," the figure observed, its voice devoid of emotion.
Ren tightened his grip on the staff. "Who are you? Why are you here?"
"I am a guide, nothing more," it replied. "Your journey is just beginning, Ren. Embrace the Blooming Blight, and it will lead you to your destiny."
Before he could respond, the figure dissolved into the darkness, leaving Ren alone with his thoughts.
Destiny. The word echoed in his mind. What path lay ahead for him? And what role would the Blooming Blight play in shaping it?
Only time would tell.