Chapter 41 – Aric
The forest air was damp and heavy with mist, each droplet clinging to Aric's skin as he trudged through the undergrowth. His father had sent him out alone this time—a test, though Daren had not said it directly. Aric could feel it. Every lesson up until now had been building toward this.
The flame inside him, the concept Daren had spoken of, flickered faintly as though eager to be called.
But he wasn't prepared for what lurked ahead.
He came upon the ruins of an old watchtower, its stones cracked and covered in creeping moss. A cold presence pressed against his chest as he approached, a pressure he recognized immediately. The system's gaze.
Then, it appeared.
A figure cloaked in black light, its form half-shifting, half-solid. A low-level enforcer. Not the weakest, but not something Aric should have faced alone. Its eyes, glowing like molten silver, locked onto him.
"Designation: potential Taboo." The voice was a hollow echo. "Termination authorized."
Aric's throat tightened. He wanted to run—but Daren's words rang in his mind. Face the weight of reality. Shape your own.
The enforcer struck first, a lance of radiant energy crashing toward him. Aric threw himself aside, the beam scorching the ground and leaving molten stone where it hit. His heart thundered. One direct hit and he would be nothing but ash.
He called to his flame. It sputtered, then flared. Fire burst from his palms, weak compared to the enforcer's blinding light—but alive. He hurled it forward. The fire clashed against a shield of pure authority, dissolving as though it had never been.
Aric stumbled back, sweat rolling down his temple. "Too strong…"
The enforcer advanced, step by step, the ground sizzling beneath its weight. Another lance of light tore past Aric's shoulder, grazing him. Pain seared through him, hot and sharp. His vision blurred.
For a moment—he thought this was the end.
Then instinct roared inside him. The flame didn't just burn—it wanted to be.
He planted his feet, forcing his breath steady. "I… won't die here." His voice shook, but his eyes hardened. He drew every fragment of mana within him, shaping it not as a weapon but as a reflection of his will. The fire swelled, no longer a flicker, but a pillar.
The enforcer hesitated. The system's gaze seemed to falter, if only for a breath.
Aric launched himself forward, his flame wrapping around his arm like a blade. He struck. For the first time, his fire didn't dissolve—it cut through the enforcer's shield, leaving a jagged scar of scorched light.
But the effort shattered him. His knees buckled, his vision darkened. The enforcer reeled, then raised its hand for a final blow.
Aric's body wouldn't move. His flame guttered, nearly extinguished.
So this is near death…
At the last second, an arrow of searing shadow split the air, slamming into the enforcer's chest. It shrieked, its form unraveling before vanishing into smoke.
Daren stepped from the mist, bow still in hand, expression unreadable.
Aric gasped, clutching his chest, barely conscious. "You… watched."
"I did." Daren's tone was flat. "You nearly died. But you struck reality. Remember that feeling."
Aric's breath came in ragged gulps, his body trembling. But deep inside, where the flame burned, he felt it—changed. Sharper. More his.
The first brush with death had carved something new into him.
And he would never forget it.