There have been rumors going around that I was dying, that I would never leave my room.
The world firmly believed I would simply perish before my marriage, fools all of them.
In my kingdom, monsters exist, born not from the Darkness, but from the primordial Depths, a place of deep immersion beneath reality's surface.
Any creature from that realm is inherently vile, tainted by the Darkness, though distinctly different from being born of it.
My fingers gripped my sword tightly as the trees around me began to thin.
We are a northern nation of trees and snow, and monsters dwell within our forests and lands.
[Nicholas was going hunting. For obvious reasons, this was a bad idea.]
I lifted my blade and smiled brightly. "Do you think I'll die?"
[Nicholas spoke to himself in a mocking tone. It's important to note he was not talking to his weapon.]
So it would never acknowledge itself, almost as if it were not real.
I see now this voice may be more than just a narrator inside my mind.
While mana governs reality itself, I can manipulate infons sparingly, the fundamental source of energy that makes up memories and theory.
They coexist with spiritrons, the fundamental energy of souls, tied to the very idea of being.
Mana, which forms reality, is above both of these concepts.
I realized this after being cursed.
[Nicholas spoke as if informed, though he was merely thinking aloud.]
Saying it like that makes it sound like I was wrong; I was not.
With the manipulation of infons, I can erase any information about my existence from reality itself.
It is how I managed to escape. Without infons, there is no information, no thought, no emotion, the very things all beings rely on to define themselves.
Regalia that triumph over all three, mana, infons, and spiritrons, can manipulate each at will.
My father taught me roughly that, manipulating mana is magic.
Manipulating infons is defining.
And spiritrons are the essence of life itself, the force that gives soul and consciousness to all beings.
[A man, who was ultimately a fool.]
I chuckled as the woods finally cleared before me.
The sky was a clear blue, dotted with clouds drifting slowly. The grass beneath was dark and tainted, yet still flourishing with life.
My sword, forged in a ritual of self-loathing, began to cry out softly, a faint note of its name.
By now, that name had been etched deep into my very being.
One might think I would unwrap it fully, but doing so would be a great burden.
I am far too weak to wield such a drastic weapon. My power, when using it, is more like a sapling trying to stand tall beside a mighty tree.
In that regard, the monster before me trembled faintly at its presence.
It resembled a bear, with a large mane surrounding its head and sharp teeth peeking from its mouth, mana swirling around it.
Its red eyes seemed to weep, the fur beneath them growing lighter with each silent tear.
This was a Red Crying, one of the few monsters worthy of being called dangerous.
Protected by the forest and blessed by the first king, monsters unfit for battle are barred from entering.
It was clear to me this would not be the last monster I would face on my path.
Not that I wished to avoid them. In fact, I openly welcomed every challenge, ready for any who came to slaughter me.
The beast lunged, claws raking at my chest. I flipped backward and slid across the blood-dampened grass.
Blood dripped from its lips as it leapt, sinking its teeth into my shoulder. I clenched my teeth and pushed against its back.
Then I shifted, standing atop its spine as my sword plunged deep into its flesh.
Blood splattered from my mouth as I stumbled off. The beast swung swiftly and knocked me into the dirt.
I tumbled until its massive claws tore into my torso, pinning me to the ground.
The Red Crying roared with such force that my bones rattled.
[Nicholas was surprised by what unfolded before him, almost as if he had forgotten how weak he truly was.]
I blinked.
Once more, I was stumbling past the monster, now without any wounds.
I leaned against my blade and turned around to see the beast staring at me, confused.
It was the one downside to my ability. Sadly, I don't change the timeline.
What I do is shift the shape of what occurred, within time's allowance.
Even if I wished to rise above time and erase their memory of the event, it would be useless.
The soul remembers what the flesh forgets. And so, it is better to strike at the being itself, rather than what it recalls.
To that end, any creature bound by the shadow of the world is subject to my power.
I lifted my blade and sighed. "Alright, well, I can't do that anymore. So we've gotta fight for real this time."
It charged, blood congealing around its form. Small orbs hovered through the air, pulsing faintly.
I chuckled, weaving to the right, dodging its attempt to devour me. Then I ducked beneath a shrieking orb.
I spun around, narrowly avoiding another as the monster lunged with its jaws wide open.
I shoved my hand between its teeth and ripped one out. Mana wrapped around my fist, shielding it as I braced for the bite.
A beam of blood pierced my leg. I gasped, then coughed as pain surged through my body.
I slammed the creature into the earth.
Raising my sword, I brought it down in one sharp arc and split the monster .
The orbs fell with it, scattering across the clean in two.
Instantly my body began to cultivate passively taking in the massive load of mana ground like shards of glass.
I dropped back, staring up at the sky, then chuckled. "Well, it seems my blade is strong."
[Nicholas is arrogant.]
Looking back at the monster and its pitiful state, I could only shake my head.
I stood, brushed myself off, and poured the last of my mana into closing my wounds.
Wiping the blood from my mouth, I turned, only to see a tree sentinel walking toward me.
It carried a spear forged from twisted roots, its eyes dripping golden sap.
Its humanoid shape might fool some into believing it was kind.
But those bastards are anything but.
A chilling scream tore from its melted teeth, and many more figures emerged behind it from the darkened trees.
I looked down at my trembling arm as the mark began to emerge once again. Holding it back, I glanced up with a smile.
"Hey. It's my first time. Go slow."
[Nicholas was coping with his current position. He was about to die.]
I took a single step, and they all vanished, leaving behind only pools of golden sap where they once stood.
Die? It seemed this voice wasn't all-knowing, more like it merely watched the events unfold before me.
Mirabel appeared on the horizon, a silver sword in hand, wearing white light armor and an annoyed expression.
"You wanted to come out alone and almost died within the hour."
I shrugged. "I knew my beloved would save me from any fate that tried to seal itself upon me."
She stepped forward and pressed a single finger into the top of my chest. "Don't test my patience, Nick."
I smiled. "I might crumble from your touch. Please, hold yourself back."
Sheathing her blade, she glanced around at the battlefield. "Why didn't you use magic?"
I covered my mouth and coughed begrudgingly. "My mana reserves aren't very high, my love."
She gave me a disappointed look. "You have more mana than I do. It's that illness of yours that fails you."
I coughed again and let out a dramatic sigh. "Oh, how the sick may scream."