The village square was packed with people.
Aren stood with the other sixteen-year-olds—twelve of them total—in a line facing the old stone altar. His legs felt weak, but he forced himself to stand straight. Everyone was watching.
Behind him, he could hear the whole village whispering and gossiping. Thornhaven only had about five hundred people, and the Class Ceremony was the biggest event of the year. This was when kids became adults, when the System decided their futures.
"Nervous?" whispered the girl next to him. Mella, the blacksmith's daughter. Strong build, confident smile. She'd probably get a good class.
"A little," Aren admitted.
"Don't worry. Even if you get something common, at least you'll have a class. My cousin got Fisherman last year. F-rank, but he's happy."
Aren nodded but didn't answer. Easy for her to say. The blacksmith's family had money. Even a bad class wouldn't ruin Mella's life.
For people like Aren's family? A bad class meant staying poor forever.
At the front of the altar stood Village Chief Rodrick—a fat man in fancy clothes who got his position from his father, not from being good at anything. Next to him was a thin woman in blue robes covered in strange symbols. A System Priestess from the capital.
"Attention!" Chief Rodrick's voice boomed. The crowd went quiet. "Today, these children become adults in the eyes of the System. Today, they receive their classes and join society as full members!"
The crowd clapped. Some parents looked proud. Others looked worried.
The Priestess stepped forward. Her voice was cold and formal. "The System grants classes based on your soul's nature, your potential, and your destiny. What you receive cannot be changed. Accept it with grace."
She raised her hands. A blue light appeared above the altar—the System's power made visible.
"We will proceed in order. When your name is called, approach the altar, place your hand on the stone, and receive your judgment."
Aren's heart pounded. He was last in line alphabetically. He'd have to wait and watch everyone else first.
"Marcus Ironwood!" the Priestess called.
A big farm boy stepped forward—nervous but excited. He put his hand on the altar stone.
The blue light flashed. Words appeared in the air above Marcus's head, visible to everyone:
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
Marcus Ironwood
Class Assigned: WARRIOR
Rank: D (Rare)
The crowd cheered. D-rank was good! Marcus's parents looked ready to cry from happiness.
"Congratulations," the Priestess said with no emotion. "Next. Mella Forge!"
Mella walked up confident. Put her hand down.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
Mella Forge
Class Assigned: BLACKSMITH
Rank: C (Epic)
The crowd went crazy. C-rank! That was amazing for a small village! The blacksmith was shouting and hugging his wife.
Aren felt his stomach sink. Everyone was getting decent classes. What would he get?
One by one, the others went up:
∙ Thomas: ARCHER, D-rank
∙ Sarah: HERBALIST, E-rank (her mom looked disappointed)
∙ Erik: MERCHANT, D-rank
∙ Lydia: HEALER, C-rank (huge cheers)
∙ And on and on…
Finally, only Aren was left.
"Aren Valewood!"
The crowd went quiet. Everyone knew about Aren—sick, weak, from a poor family. They all expected trash.
Aren walked to the altar on shaking legs. He could feel everyone staring. Pitying him. Judging him.
He saw his mother in the crowd, hands clasped together, praying. His brother Torrhen stood behind her, face hard but eyes worried.
Please, Aren thought. Please give me something I can work with. I don't need amazing. Just… something.
He put his hand on the stone.
It was ice cold.
The blue light flashed—
And then everything went wrong.
The light turned red. Then white. Then colors Aren didn't have names for. The altar stone started shaking. The Priestess stumbled backward, eyes wide with shock.
"What—" she started.
The world around Aren disappeared.
…
He stood in the white void again. The same place from his dream.
But this time, it felt real. Solid. Not a dream.
The old shaman appeared in front of him, staff in hand, painted face serious.
"The moment has come, stranger," the old man said. "The System offers you a choice. Most never see this. But you broke something when you arrived. You created a crack."
Around them, two images appeared.
On the left: Aren saw himself as a simple farmer. Working fields. Married to a village girl. A peaceful, safe life. Poor but happy. Growing old surrounded by grandchildren.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
Standard Class Assignment Available
Class: FARMER
Rank: F (Common)
Accept? [YES] [NO]
On the right: Aren saw himself covered in light, spirits swirling around him like a storm. Power beyond imagination. But also pain, sacrifice, blood. A path with no clear ending.
[HIDDEN OPTION UNLOCKED]
Ancient Class Seed Detected
WARNING: This class is forgotten. This class is dangerous.
WARNING: The System does not fully control this class.
Class: ▓▓▓▓▓▓ ▓▓▓▓▓▓
Rank: ??? (Unknown)
Accept? [YES] [NO]
"Choose," the old shaman said. "Safety or power. Chains or freedom. The System's path or the old ways."
"What is the hidden class?" Aren asked.
"Something that existed before the System. Something the System tried to erase but couldn't completely remove. The last bridge between the mortal world and the spirit world."
"Why me? Why can I see this?"
The old man smiled. "Because you don't belong here. Your soul came from outside. The System's rules don't fully apply to you. You're a glitch. An error. And errors can access what should be locked away."
Aren stared at both options.
The left was safe. Easy. He could live a normal life, help his family a little bit, and die peacefully.
The right was unknown. Could be amazing. Could get him killed.
In his past life, he'd always chosen safe. Always played it careful. Always took the path with less risk.
And he'd died alone in an office with nothing to show for it.
I said I'd do things different, Aren thought. I said I'd take risks. I said I'd find something that matters.
He looked at the old shaman. "If I take the hidden class… what happens?"
"You become what this world needs but doesn't want. You gain power the System cannot fully measure or control. You walk a path that has been empty for five hundred years."
"And the cost?"
"The same as any true power. You will suffer. You will bleed. You will make enemies. You will question everything. And you may fail."
The old man's white eyes seemed to look through Aren's soul.
"But you will also be free. Truly free. Not bound by the System's limitations. Able to see what others cannot. Able to change what others think is fixed."
Aren took a deep breath.
Then he reached toward the right image.
"I choose the hidden class."
The old shaman smiled. "Good. The world needs shamans again, stranger. Welcome to the path between worlds."
Everything exploded into light—
…
Aren gasped as reality slammed back.
He was at the altar again. His hand still on the stone. But only a second had passed.
The Priestess stared at him in shock. The altar stone was glowing with colors that shouldn't exist.
Then the light settled.
Words appeared above Aren's head, but they were glitching, flickering, like broken text:
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
Aren Valewood
Class Assigned: ▓▓▓▓▓▓ ▓▓▓▓▓▓
Rank: ???
[ERROR - UNABLE TO DISPLAY FULL INFORMATION]
The crowd went dead silent.
The Priestess looked pale. "I… I don't… this has never…"
The text above Aren's head flickered again, then changed:
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION - ADJUSTED DISPLAY]
Aren Valewood
Class Assigned: NATURE MAGE
Rank: A (Ancient)
Special Variant Class - Rare
The crowd exploded.
"A-rank?!"
"Ancient class?!"
"The sick kid got an A-rank?!"
"That's impossible!"
The Priestess's hands shook. "This… this is unprecedented. An Ancient-rank class in a frontier village…"
Aren could barely hear them. Inside his head, a different message appeared—one only he could see:
[TRUE CLASS REVEALED - VISIBLE ONLY TO USER]
Class: ANCIENT SHAMAN
Rank: SSS (Primordial)
Description: The first bridge between mortal and spirit worlds. Before the System categorized power, shamans walked between realms. This class does not follow normal rules—it existed before them.
WARNING: Your true class is hidden from normal inspection. Others will see "Nature Mage (A-rank)" when they check your status. Keep this secret.
New Skill Unlocked: Spirit Sight (Passive)
New Skill Unlocked: Spirit Speech (Active)
New Quest Available: "Find Your First Spirit"
Aren's vision changed. Suddenly, he could see things he couldn't before.
Floating lights drifted through the crowd—small spirits, invisible to everyone else. Blue wisps near the water well. Green ones in the gardens. Tiny red sparks floating from torches.
A whole world existed on top of the normal one, and he was the only one who could see it.
"Brother!"
Torrhen pushed through the crowd and grabbed Aren's shoulders. "A-rank! Do you know what this means? You'll be able to join the capital academy! You can make something of yourself!"
His mother was crying, but smiling. "Thank the gods… thank the gods…"
Other villagers crowded around, congratulating him, asking questions, looking at him like he was a different person.
Ten minutes ago, they pitied him.
Now they looked at him with respect. Envy. Even fear.
Is this what power does? Aren thought. Changes how people see you instantly?
The Priestess pushed through the crowd. "Aren Valewood. By law, anyone who receives an Ancient-rank class or higher must report to the capital for official registration and potential academy enrollment. You have one month to settle your affairs here."
She looked uncomfortable. Suspicious even.
"I will be filing a report about… irregularities in your class assignment. Your case may require investigation by the Classification Bureau."
A chill ran down Aren's spine. She knew something was wrong. Not the truth, but enough to be suspicious.
"I understand," Aren said, trying to keep his voice steady.
The Priestess nodded and walked away, already writing something on a scroll.
Chief Rodrick pushed forward, all smiles now. "Young Aren! I always knew you had potential! Tell me, have you considered using your new status to help our village? We could certainly use someone with your talents—"
Torrhen pulled Aren away. "We need to get you home. You're still recovering from the fever. Come on."
As they pushed through the crowd, Aren caught sight of someone at the edge of the square.
A man in dark clothes, watching him with cold eyes. Not a villager. A stranger. He wore a symbol on his cloak—a perfect circle with lines radiating out. Aren didn't recognize it.
The man smiled when Aren looked at him. Not a friendly smile. A predator's smile.
Then he turned and disappeared into the crowd.
"Did you see that man?" Aren asked Torrhen.
"What man?"
"The one in dark clothes with the weird symbol."
Torrhen looked around. "I don't see anyone like that. You sure you didn't imagine it?You're still sick, and a lot just happened."
Aren wasn't sure of anything anymore.
That night, Aren lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.
His mother and brother were celebrating in the other room—cheap wine, better food than usual, talking about the future.
But Aren felt cold.
The System had hidden his real class. Why? To protect him? Or because even the System was scared of what he'd become?
And that man with the symbol… who was he?
Aren focused on his new skill—Spirit Sight. His vision shifted, and he could see the small spirits again. They floated through his room, curious, coming closer to him.
One approached—a small ball of green light with what looked like tiny wings.
Without thinking, Aren whispered, "Hello?"
The spirit stopped. Turned toward him.
And spoke in a voice like wind through grass: "You… can hear me?"
Aren's eyes went wide. "You can talk?"
"Of course I can talk! But humans never hear. Never see. Not for…" the spirit paused, thinking. "…a very long time. Many seasons. Many, many seasons."
"What are you?"
"I am wind! Small wind. Baby wind. Not strong yet, but I will be!" The spirit flew in excited circles. "What are you? You smell strange. Like… like two people. And like somewhere else."
Aren sat up slowly. "I'm… I'm a shaman. I think."
"SHAMAN?!" The spirit zoomed close to his face. "No shamans! Shamans all gone! Big thing came—the System thing—and shamans went away. Are you really shaman?"
"I… yes. I just became one today."
The spirit was silent for a moment. Then: "I need to tell the others! The big spirits! They said shamans would come back! They said to wait! I was just born, I didn't believe, but it's TRUE!"
"Wait, don't—"
The spirit shot through the wall and disappeared.
Aren sat there in the dark, heart pounding.
He'd just talked to a spirit. An actual spirit.
This was real. All of it.
A soft knock on his door. "Aren? You awake?"
His mother came in, carrying a candle. She sat on the edge of his bed.
"I know today was a lot," she said quietly. "An A-rank class… that's going to change everything for you. For us."
"Mom, I—"
"You're going to leave, aren't you? Go to the capital. Join the academy."
Aren hadn't thought that far ahead, but… yeah. He probably would have to.
"I'll send money back," he said. "Help the family. Buy you a better house."
Elara shook her head. "I don't want your money, Aren. Well, I won't say no to it. But more than that… I want you to be safe. Power is dangerous. People will want to use you. Control you. Promise me you'll be careful."
She had tears in her eyes.
"I promise, Mom."
She hugged him tight. "My baby boy. You were so sick. I thought I was going to lose you. And now look at you. A-rank. Going to be someone important."
If only you knew, Aren thought. If only you knew what I really got.
After she left, Aren pulled up his status screen—something everyone with a class could do.
[STATUS - AREN VALEWOOD]
Class: Ancient Shaman (Displayed as: Nature Mage)
Level: 1
HP: 100/100
MP: 150/150
STATS:
∙ STR: 8
∙ VIT: 10
∙ AGI: 9
∙ INT: 12
∙ WIS: 15
∙ LCK: 7
∙ SPI: 50 (Hidden stat - Spirit Affinity)
SKILLS:
∙ Spirit Sight (Passive) Lv1
∙ Spirit Speech (Active) Lv1
∙ Minor Offering (Active) Lv1 [NEW]
∙ Spiritual Sense (Passive) Lv1 [NEW]
ACTIVE QUESTS:
∙ "Find Your First Spirit" (0/1 Spirit Contracted)
TITLES:
∙ None
SPIRIT CONTRACTS:
∙ None (0/5 available slots)
Weak stats. Level 1. No contracts yet. No real power.
But he had something no one else had—the ability to see and talk to spirits.
Aren closed the status window and looked at the small floating lights in his room.
This was just the beginning.
Tomorrow, he'd figure out what being a shaman actually meant.
Tonight, he just needed to sleep.
But sleep didn't come easy. He kept thinking about that man in the dark clothes. About the Priestess's suspicious look. About what would happen when people found out the truth.
Keep the secret, he told himself. No matter what.
Outside his window, something moved in the darkness.
A larger spirit—not a small floating light, but something bigger. Watching his house.
Aren's Spiritual Sense tingled. Danger? Curiosity? He couldn't tell yet.
The spirit spoke, but Aren couldn't make out the words. Too far away.
Then it disappeared into the forest.
Aren finally fell asleep, dreaming of old shamans, ancient forests, and a world that existed beneath the one everyone else could see.
…
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION - HIDDEN]
User Aren Valewood has accepted Ancient Shaman class
Monitoring protocols activated
Classification Bureau alerted to irregularity
Unknown observer detected near user location
Spirit activity increasing in surrounding area
Recommendation: Continue monitoring
Note: This class exists outside normal parameters.
Note: Historical data shows 100% failure/death rate for previous users.
Note: Last Ancient Shaman died 487 years ago.
Current user survival probability: 34%