Aldric sat cross-legged on the floor of his small room, the Luminous Crystal cradled in his palms. The violet glow illuminated his face, casting strange shadows on the walls. Outside, the city was quiet, the hour late enough that even the most dedicated drunks had stumbled home to sleep.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, focusing on the crystal. He could feel its warmth, its subtle vibration, the sense of something vast and alien contained within the small stone. This was Aether, the fundamental energy of magic, refined and condensed into a form that human minds could access.
Clear your mind, Marcus had said. Become empty.
Aldric let his thoughts drift away, one by one. He released his anxiety about the future, his resentment toward his family, his fear of failure. He became aware of his breathing, slow and steady, and then he let go of that awareness too. He sank deeper into stillness, into a state of pure presence.
And then, when he was completely calm, he opened himself to the crystal.
The pain was immediate and overwhelming.
It felt like the crystal was burning its way into his chest, burrowing through flesh and bone to reach his heart. Aldric gasped, his eyes flying open, every instinct screaming at him to drop the crystal and end the agony. But he held on, gritting his teeth, forcing himself to endure.
The pain intensified. It spread through his body like fire, racing along his nerves, igniting every cell. He could feel the crystal's energy invading him, forcing its way into spaces that had never been meant to hold such power. His mind fractured under the assault, splitting into a thousand fragments.
And then the hallucinations began.
He saw himself standing in a vast, empty void, surrounded by darkness. Shapes moved in the shadows—twisted, inhuman things with too many limbs and eyes that glowed with malevolent intelligence. They whispered to him in voices that scraped against his sanity, promising power and pain in equal measure.
He saw his father, Lord Thorne, standing before him with that same dismissive expression. "You'll never amount to anything," his father said. "You're weak. Worthless. A waste of my blood."
He saw his brothers, laughing at him, mocking him. "The third son," they chanted. "The spare. The one who doesn't matter."
He saw Selene, her amber eyes cold and calculating. "I'll betray you when it's profitable," she said. "You know I will. Everyone betrays everyone in the end."
The visions came faster, more chaotic. He saw cities burning, armies clashing, mages hurling destruction at each other with casual ease. He saw himself standing atop a mountain of corpses, his hands dripping with blood, his eyes empty of all humanity. He saw himself as an old man, alone and forgotten, dying in a gutter with no one to mourn him.
The crystal was testing him, he realized. It was showing him his fears, his doubts, his darkest possibilities. It was trying to break him, to see if he was strong enough to wield its power.
Aldric forced himself to focus. These were just illusions, just tricks of the mind. They weren't real. They couldn't hurt him unless he let them.
He pushed back against the visions, asserting his will. "No," he said aloud, his voice hoarse. "I am not weak. I am not worthless. I will not fail."
The visions wavered, losing some of their intensity. The twisted shapes in the darkness retreated, hissing in frustration. His father's image flickered and faded. His brothers' laughter grew distant.
Aldric focused on the crystal, on the connection forming between it and his soul. He could feel it now, a thread of energy linking him to the stone, growing stronger with each passing moment. The pain was still there, but it was becoming manageable, transforming from agony into something more like intense pressure.
He held on. He endured. He refused to break.
And then, suddenly, the pain stopped.
Aldric gasped, his eyes flying open. He was back in his room, sitting on the floor, the crystal still in his hands. But something had changed. He could feel it—a new presence inside him, a reservoir of power that hadn't been there before. The crystal's glow had dimmed, its energy now integrated into his being.
He'd done it. He'd survived the Attunement.
Aldric set the crystal down carefully and stood on shaky legs. His body ached, his head pounded, and he felt like he'd been awake for days. But he was alive. And he was a mage.
He stumbled to the washbasin and splashed cold water on his face, then looked at himself in the cracked mirror. He looked the same—same dark hair, same gray eyes, same unremarkable face. But he felt different. He felt... more.
He closed his eyes and reached for the power inside him, the way the manual had described. It was there, waiting, a pool of violet energy that responded to his will. He focused on it, shaping it, and felt it flow through him.
When he opened his eyes, he could see things he'd never seen before. There were faint auras around objects in the room, traces of emotion and thought left behind by previous occupants. The walls themselves seemed to pulse with a subtle energy, the accumulated psychic residue of years of human habitation.
This was the first ability of a Veiled Mind Initiate—the ability to sense thoughts and emotions. It was passive, always active, feeding him information about the world around him.
Aldric focused on the door to his room, imagining that it was slightly to the left of where it actually was. He pushed his will into the illusion, shaping it with the violet energy inside him.
The door shimmered and seemed to shift, its position changing by a few inches. The illusion held for a few seconds, then faded as Aldric's concentration wavered. But it had worked. He'd created his first illusion.
He laughed, a sound of pure relief and triumph. He'd done it. He was a mage. A Tier 1 Initiate, the lowest of the low, but a mage nonetheless.
The game had changed. He was no longer powerless. He had a weapon now, a tool he could use to climb higher, to achieve his goals, to become someone who mattered.
Aldric collapsed onto his bed, exhaustion overwhelming him. He'd been through an ordeal that would have broken most people, but he'd survived. He'd endured. He'd won.
As he drifted off to sleep, he thought of all the things he would do with his new power. The people he would manipulate, the secrets he would uncover, the heights he would reach.
The capital had eaten a hundred boys like him.
But Aldric Thorne was no longer just a boy. He was a mage. And he was going to devour this city whole.