The moment I stepped into my private training room, a heavy, familiar scent of old leather and dried ink greeted me. Ten books sat neatly on my desk—ten physical manifestations of my parents' lifelong sacrifices. Each page held the weight of their sweat and blood, and I handled them with a reverence usually reserved for sacred relics. I picked up the first volume: Visualization.
In the world of Aster, imagination is more than just a creative spark; it is the ultimate weapon. The first sentence of the manual read: "If you cannot see it within your mind, you can never grant it form in reality." Atara energy is like raw clay, and it is the clarity of your will that sculpts it into existence.
According to the text, the flow of Atara is branched into three distinct paths:
Elements: These are the foundations of nature—Fire, Water, Earth, Air, Electricity, Wood, Light, and Darkness.
Forces: The invisible laws governing the universe—Gravity, Time, Sound, Heat, Momentum, and Pressure.
Others: The specialized crafts—from physical transformations like animal mimicry to the hardening of one's skin into cold steel.
The book issued a stern warning regarding "The Barrier of Affinity." It explained that innate talent acts as a locked door. If you are born with a Fire affinity, learning to command Water is six times more exhausting. Attempting to master a "Force" like Gravity could be twelve times more difficult. But as I flipped through the weathered pages, a confident smirk touched my lips. With Adaptive Learning, these barriers were non-existent. For me, every door was already unlocked.
I decided to start with the Fire Element. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, sinking into the ocean of energy within me. I visualized a tiny spark, no larger than a centimeter, flickering at the very tip of my index finger. Normally, even a prodigy would struggle for ten days just to produce a single ember.
The first attempt... nothing happened.
The second attempt... I felt a faint warmth beneath my skin.
By the ninth try... a thin wisp of smoke curled into the air.
Finally, on the tenth attempt... a brilliant crimson flame erupted from my fingertip, dancing in sync with the rhythm of my heartbeat. Staring at that small, flickering light, I felt a surge of triumph. This was my first true creation in this world.
Time flowed like a steady river. On my fourth birthday, we celebrated with a Bann Cake, a local treat that felt like a bridge between my two lives. It was made from Zyco powder—harvested from the roots of towering 5-meter trees—and topped with Vantio jam, which tasted remarkably like the grapes of Earth. The flora and fauna of Aster never ceased to amaze me; every plant held a secret, every creature a story.
Four more years passed in a blur of training. By the time I turned eight, the "Basic Foundation Series" held no more mysteries for me. I had mastered the fundamentals of all ten paths. Every day was spent learning the art of Prayer from my mother and the intricacies of Circulation from my father. At night, I experimented with combining elements in the silence of my room.
That was the year my father took me from our quiet village of Glan to the bustling city of Boro. We traveled there to sell a bountiful harvest of Zyco and Vantio fruits. As we navigated the stone-paved streets, past crowded stalls and shouting merchants, a massive, imposing structure loomed over the city skyline.
Its walls were constructed from dark, ancient stone, and the iron gate was adorned with the sigil of crossed swords and a dragon's skull. The sheer pressure radiating from the building was enough to make my breath catch.
"Father... what is that place?" I asked, my heart hammering against my ribs. My palms felt damp with a mixture of fear and excitement.
"The Slayer Guild, son," he replied, his eyes filled with a blend of nostalgia and deep-seated respect. "This is where legends are born. It is the gathering place for those who hunt the monsters of the night and protect the innocent."
"Were you really one of them?" I looked up at him, seeing the farmer's calloused hands in a new light.
He laughed, ruffling my hair with a warm grin. "A long time ago, Kaelo. Before I traded my blade for a plow. A Slayer's life is filled with danger, but it is a noble path—to be a shield for those who cannot protect themselves."
I stared at the iron gates, watching armored men and women walk through with scars on their faces and fire in their eyes. At that moment, a flame ignited within me that was far hotter than any I had conjured in my room. I hadn't come to this world just to live a quiet life in a village.
"I want to be a Slayer, Father. I want to see what lies beyond these walls and face the monsters myself," I declared firmly.
My father smiled, a challenge gleaming in his eyes. "Then keep your focus, Kaelo. On the day you turn ten, those gates will be open for you. On that day, your own legend begins."
That night, as I drifted off to sleep, my dreams were filled with roaring flames, the clash of steel, and the endless horizons of Aster. Two more years. Only 2year remained until my true story would finally begin.
Author's note: 10/?score "How many points out of 10 would you give?"