Author’s note:

          So, hi people! Uhm, this is a small project of mine since classes already started and I set a goal for myself to write through the end of the school year. I plan to at least write a chapter every other day with 1 thousand words (more or less you get the pt.) This is more of an experimental story to test my writing skill with English as the language (English is my second language so I apologize for future grammar mistakes :’D). I hope you guys drop in some helpful tips and constructive criticism so I can grow as an author :D That’s all! Salamat! (Thank you!)

P.S The little passages/poems/epigraphs, do they fit in? Should I include them?

Prologue

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There he lay

Barely seeing

Hardly breathing

But reminiscing

The long gone past

Where memories amassed

And exploits stashed

Of his journey till its last

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I…remember…

I remember the time mana was gifted to me.

It was exhilarating. Ecstatic even, to receive such an arcane element in my mundane and seemingly purposeless life.

But not without facing tribulation and excruciating trials.

Yet despite that, it was worth it.

 All worth it.

But before all transpired, I always asked myself.

 What was the point?

Studying. Playing. Sleeping etc. Rinse repeat.

Is this the life society offers? Just burning all through these never-ending tasks and to repeat other’s footsteps?

I found myself sitting on the rooftop of our learning facility asking such a question to entertain my poor self.

Tsk, hahaha… I did not know back then. Naive. Innocent. Ignorant.

Yes. Kept out in the dark just like any other.

But that time spent wondering my existence was the key. The answer to change my boring life. A chance to spice things up and escape the norm of following the set life presented by society itself to us.

I discovered mana.

It was not instantaneous. Gods no! I spent my entire high school life discovering such a marvelous thing (although admittedly, it was by pure serendipity). Even to as far as trying to find the answers through old books and lurking in highly questionable sites.

I was desperate alright.

And it paved off.

I found the answer in a seemingly useless book entitled “The Gods and Stuff” by an unknown author. The paleothic book sported some torn pages and a yellowish, almost grimy covering. You could see it’s been neglected for God knows how long. What enticed me in reading it was the way it’s been covertly hidden from the common eye.

It was hidden behind textbooks in a shelf in our library. Now the confusing and questionable part here was that our facilities were state of the art, gleamingly new and abhorred even the tiniest speck of dust. To find such a neglected book means it would be either purposely hidden because of its contents or the librarian just happened to ignore such an unsightly addition to her seemingly imperfect haven, which is nigh impossible so I settled for the other choice.

          I opened the book and the first thing to happen when I started reading it was a wave of pain and agony.

          Dropping the book, my knees buckled and I ultimately fell down clutching my head screaming. Just purely shouting out the pain assailing my head not resisting nor stopped by the mere reminder of keeping the quiet inside the library.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

          It was hell. The throbbing inside my head was like my brain being diced and rolled into paste and my body responding with shaking and clutching my head to cope, but one thing I remember was my clear, almost flawless sight. Normally I would expect my vision to black out from the severe pain but I clearly remember the shocked and almost offended expression the librarian wore when she walked up to my cringing and vulnerable form.

          She asked me if I was okay while panicking and hesitating to help only to be replied by my howling. She decided to ran outside and get help.

          After that my vision faded and I passed out.

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The god stirred

Within his divine seat

His steward feared

This would be it

But nay, he fought

And without gripe he thought

The lore he once sought

Wouldn't be all for naught

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          I…remember

          Where was I? Oh right.

          I passed out from the severe pain that that damnable book caused. Yet I would be eternally grateful for that (I am not a masochist in the slightest) for I acquired the answer to my ever-standing question in my life.

          What was the point?

          I did not find my answer in meager existential answers presented by religious sects. Nor was my question answered by the morals set by the norm.

          No. I found it in an old book.

          A book about mana and how the gods harnessed it.

          Does that mean I would become a god after I have read that old book?

          Maybe. I did not know back then. My sole reason for not caring was because of the consequence that followed after partaking of the knowledge within it.

          I woke up facing the white ceiling with dots peppering its surface, the kind you would see in conference rooms, I didn’t know what they were called. Groaning, I clutched my head and supported my torso with my hand at the side to gradually lift myself up to survey the room I was in.

          When I saw the bottles of medication and some equipment meant to better the constitution of a patient, I realized I was in the School Infirmary. The smell of hospitals permeated the room and the cool breeze of the air conditioner caressed my skin making my hairs stand up. Seconds after my wake, the school nurse walked up to me crossing his arms and reporting to me the events that have transpired. Apparently, after I passed out, the help the librarian was able to gather were two students older than me. They heaved me up and carried me through the hallways leading to the room. I imagined the faces of the bystanders confuzzled by the whole ordeal. I may be the center of rumors and attention for the next few weeks.

Upon reaching the room, I actually wasn’t still done with my suffering. In the event that I was laid upon the medical bed, I woke up and sat perfectly still. My eyes dilating and my mouth muttering words the nurse described as ‘incomprehensible’ and as far as considering the word ‘bone rattling’.

I looked at the nurse with a confused face and what greeted me was a scared and weirded out expression. But no doubt, he tried to not let it show for the sake of formality and told me that I may be under extreme stress. So, he gave me an infirmary slip if I so happen to take the leave and accept his prescription to rest for a few days. I complied.

For the following days of that week, I sat at my boarding house alone with the occasional company of my board mate Nikko. I recall a dialogue we once had after my episode.

Nikko: Bro dude, what happened? Okay ka lang? (Are you fine?)”

I: (spacing out) H-huh? Oh! Nikko andyan ka na pala (you’re here already). Yeah yeah I’m fine. Stress I guess. The nurse told me to rest for a few days

Nikko: [dropping his bags] What!? Ang daya! (How unfair!). When will you come back though?

I: Probably next week. I don’t know [massaging my temple]. My head still hurts. Bwiset (dang it)

Nikko: Huh, ‘sthat so? I’ll help you with notes

I:[looking up him] Really?

Nikko: Of course, Bro! you know how I care about you [grinning] Fifty pesos [A dollar] for every subject though.

I:[frowning] Jerk.

Nikko: You’re welcome! [exiting the room]

The stay in my room was pretty boring. Only the occasional notes from my mate and reminiscing the pain occupied me from laying down and staring at the ceiling the whole day. My return though was nothing like my peaceful leave. What greeted me were the stares of people probably whipping up a storm of rumors about my event. They were like that, hungry for juicy gossips (considering it was the only thing inhabiting the minds of these gossipers).

My schedule didn’t change though and I still went up to the rooftop.

Months passed and, in an attempt to not bore myself, I visited my spot in the rooftop to brood and recall what happened to me these past months.

Not knowing it would be my last visit.

I sat at the edge of the rooftop facing the east of the facility to avoid detection from the guards. Recalling the pain and agony I was subjected by the book. I found out that the same damned book was nowhere to be seen in the library and my search only bore fruit in the form of the librarian eyeing me weirdly. Pretty likely she was on edge after my episode, not wanting to deal with me again.

As I was recalling, a surge of something assaulted my body. It was no means evil, but I felt weird. I hurriedly stoop up from my spot and backed away from the ledge. It was unnatural. My body tingled with energy I have no knowledge of and by the time I thought it subsided, I was emitting a blue aura from my arm.

My eyes widening, heart almost stopped beating, and mind comprehending what was happening.

My constitution felt light. I was like in cloud nine, like I could everything with this measly blue haze wrapping my arm. But alas, my excitement from the whole thing was disrupted.

 I heard a voice from the clouds.

Mere mortal, you are not fit for such power.

And then and there, on top of a learning facility, a lone lightning crackled from the heavens and struck down an individual. Television and social media outlets were littered with the freak accident and the discovery of a corpse of a student caught up in the morbid incident.

I was struck dead by a god.

Because of mana.