The journey along the Path lasted half the day, and after parting ways with groups from other villages, Karl and his companions finally reached their home. The village entrance was lined with elders and family members, their faces revealing weariness and expectance.
The villagers' appearances painted a harsh picture. They bore more resemblance to beggars than workers, from malnourished children prone to illness, to adults worn down by excessive labor, and elders carrying the weight of years of mistreatment.
Reyna, Karl's mother, greeted him with tear-filled eyes and a warm embrace. Unlike Kanin's resigned acceptance, Reyna had always encouraged Karl's fascination with the magical arts. Having harbored her own unfulfilled dreams of becoming a Mage, she had invested all her hopes in her son. Now, she resigned to mourn over Karl's unattained aspirations.
Physically, Reyna stood out slightly among the village women. Though of average height, her skin was somewhat smoother, and despite the shared hardships, she seemed slightly more robust.
Holding her dispirited son, Reyna whispered, "It's okay..." Her voice wavered slightly while gathering resolve. She then looked firmly into his eyes, "But, you shouldn’t give up on your dream!"
Karl, still processing the night’s mysterious events, felt a mix of pain and betrayal. He managed a forced, bitter smile and replied, "I’m fine, mom."
Kanin, sensing the emotional undercurrent between mother and son, chimed in, "We should be thankful our son is safe with us. Remember, the Merchants say those with low affinity can only end up as servants or subjects in experiments!"
Reyna shot him a fiery glare, a silent warning against further such remarks.
Sadly, Kanin’s words bore truth. For those with minimal magical affinity, aspirations of becoming Mages were but distant dreams. The best they could hope for was an apprenticeship, but more likely they faced a grim future as servants or, worse, as subjects for experimentation. Mages preferred those with an affinity for their experiments, as their inherent magical resistance yielded better results.
Kanin held a pragmatic view of life, firmly grounded in the reality of their commoner status. He never harbored any illusions about ascending beyond their station and was wary of his wife's aspirations for Karl. He believed that dreams of becoming a Mage were futile for those born in the villages. However, he rarely voiced these thoughts, knowing deep down that reality would eventually temper their dreams.
"We should head home... Why aren’t you working in the magic fields?" he asked, his mind already turning to the harvest. The two-week journey had kept him away from his duties, and he was anxious about meeting their quota for the tribute harvest. The nobles were unforgiving, and he feared the repercussions of any shortage.
Reyna merely huffed in response, her disdain for her husband's cautious approach clear.
Caiset was a typical farming village tasked with tending to the magical fields. However, none of the fruits of their labor stayed within the village; everything was sent to the overseeing city.
The Serion Kingdom was structured around a rigid hierarchy that relegated commoners to servitude under the Mages. At the top were the Magic Royalty, Mages of extraordinary power and rare affinities, who live in luxury in the Capital of Elements.
Below them, the Magic Nobility, comprised of influential families and strong Mages aligned with the four primary elements, resided in the Elemental Capitals positioned around the central Capital of Elements.
The smaller cities, managed by other Mage families, oversaw the resource villages in their respective sectors. These villages, like Caiset, formed the lowest rung of the hierarchy, populated by commoners who were either servants or laborers.
Each year, the villages were obligated to supply the cities with essential resources and food. In turn, the cities supported the Elemental Capitals, which then provided for the Capital of Elements. This exploitative system intensified at each level, with the commoners bearing the brunt of the burden, perpetually trapped in a cycle of servitude and hardship.
Karl trudged home, his parents' habitual argument about magic fading into the background. He couldn't help but feel sad as he passed his peers working in the village fields. For him, Mages were beings of wonder, wielding control over their surroundings without the need to labor for sustenance.
‘-- Alchemy can be quite profitable, perhaps even more so than conventional magic. --’ A distinct, confident voice echoed in his mind.
Startled, Karl whipped around, but no one was in sight. “Who's there?” he whispered under his breath.
‘-- Please, keep your thoughts inward. We can communicate telepathically. I am IMT 1 AI, but you may refer to me as Master AI. --’
Karl’s heart raced as he frantically searched for the source of the voice, eventually resigning himself to the possibility of something magical. “What...?”
‘-- I apologize for not explaining earlier. We can converse through thoughts. And to answer your question, yes, I am the entity you encountered last night. --’
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Karl's confusion mingled with a growing sense of excitement. ‘What is Alchemy? Can you teach me magic?’
‘-- It appears you have much to learn about this world. --’ AI’s tone was rigid but not unkind.
Karl smiled ruefully. As a farm village commoner, his knowledge of the arcane was limited to his mother’s stories. ‘Can you teach me?’
‘-- Firstly, understand that everything around you is infused with magical energy. The concept of teaching magic is not as straightforward as you might think. --’
Karl listened intently, absorbing every word. Even if he was just hallucinating, for a chance to learn magic, it was worth it.
‘-- The Origin is a concept beyond our full comprehension, an endless source of what we call magical energy. For reasons unknown, this energy from the Origin manifested distinct characteristics, giving birth to our world. The Laws, Rules, and all existence stem from this energy. The diversity we observe is the result of countless interactions over eons. --’
Karl's mind buzzed with excitement, though he remained thoughtful, considering the profound implications of Master AI's words.
‘-- Given that all things originated from magic energy, it stands to reason that this energy has the potential to transform anything in our world. Through the ages, sapient beings have devised many methods to harness this energy, creating various systems for magical manipulation. --’
‘-- My teachings will focus on the most formidable of these systems: Alchemy. --’
Karl's mind went blank from sudden excitement. The thought of learning anything magical felt almost unbelievable. Nonetheless, he found himself confused. His mother's tales had been filled with stories of Elemental Mages and Sorcerers, but never once had she mentioned Alchemists.
‘-- Your skepticism is understandable. The knowledge of Alchemy was lost to your civilization millennia ago, with only a few relics surviving. As for your earlier question, Alchemy involves using a medium to channel magical energy for specific tasks. --’
Karl was intelligent but unversed in these concepts, so he struggled to grasp what 'medium' and 'magic tasks' entailed.
‘-- The medium could be a magical Array or Rune, which we’ll delve into later. Magic tasks refer to any specific alterations you wish to make in reality. --’
Master AI's explanation ignited Karl's imagination, sparking visions of endless possibilities. He excitedly inquired, "So, can I use Alchemy to do anything? If that's true, I'd be the most powerful Mage..."
‘-- In theory, yes. However, the practice of Alchemy is more complex than simple desire. It requires careful design, specific resources, and a certain level of skill. Each new task demands its own unique understanding and approach. --’
Karl recognized the wisdom in these words. He understood that a power as great as magic wouldn't come easily. But now, he had a chance to delve into the mystical world he had always dreamed of, a chance to explore and learn. That was all he ever wanted.
***
In the bustling Wind Castle City, far from the humble village of Caiset, a boy clad in a worn grey tunic dashed through shadowy corridors of the imposing Howland Manor, desperation fueling his flight.
Just five days before, he had been basking in the euphoria of his registration ceremony, a moment his father had painstakingly prepared him for. His father, braving dangers to secure low-quality meat, had hoped to awaken his son's magical affinity, and miraculously, it worked. During the ceremony, the Magic Association recognized the boy's potential. Instantly, he became the pride of his village, and one of the few in the eastern region to be acknowledged for his affinity.
The boy's father, present at the ceremony, seized the opportunity to secure an apprenticeship contract with the influential Howland family. The prospect of apprenticing promised a life of improved circumstances, even the chance to provide for his family. But his dreams turned into nightmares upon entering the Manor. Instead of an apprentice, he became a pawn in Mage Howland's experiments.
“You impudent slave! How dare you flee from a Mage? Your family received a handsome sum for you, and now you shirk your duties? Return at once!” The voice echoed through the halls as the frightened boy scrambled towards the main entrance.
He was just a few steps from freedom when a sudden gust of wind slammed the door shut. A cry of despair escaped him as he attempted to dodge, only to be violently thrust against a wall by another vicious current.
“You must learn your place, slave! Did you think you could escape from me? Muahahahaha!” The malicious laughter of Mage Howland chilled the air.
“Please, Master Howland, I beg you... the pain is too much...” The boy’s plea was soaked in agony.
“You should count yourself lucky to aid in my quest for a wind core... Humph... And with such a physique similar to my useless son, don’t even dream of escaping...!” Mage Howland's voice was devoid of mercy as he dragged the boy back to his laboratory.
In the grim chamber, the boy was bound with a rusty chain to a stone table, encircled by ominous greyish crystals. The Mage, ignoring the boy's cries, placed his hands over the trembling figure, focusing intently on the sinister task.
Minutes ticked by in the dimly lit private chamber of Mage Howland, who was now deeply immersed in his incantations. Beads of sweat formed on his brow, evidence of the immense spiritual energy being expended. Around the boy, the air began to swirl chaotically, forming a small, violent vortex at the center of his chest. As the crystals surrounding him dimmed, their energy seemingly siphoned off, the boy's screams filled the room, his skin marked by unsettling moving lumps.
Eventually, Mage Howland ceased his chant, looking down at the boy who had succumbed to unconsciousness. “Hmm... Not quite right yet... Next time, I must increase the wind energy concentration around his organs, steering clear of the brain. If only he could assist in controlling the internal flow, but the pain seems to be too overwhelming...” he mused aloud, his voice tinged with frustration.
***
That very night, a group of messengers on horseback arrived at the Second Eastern Guard Tower. Their demeanor was one of unmistakable pride and disdain towards the lower-ranking Guards. Without a word of greeting, the leader, exuding an air of nobility, gestured to a companion. The said man dismounted, unrolling a scroll adorned with a lavish golden seal, and announced authoritatively, “Behold the Royal Edict, to be conveyed to all resource villages. I represent the Lord of Wind Castle, and it is his command that this message be distributed throughout the second section’s villages!”
Captain Horacios, recognizing the gravity of the situation, kneeled promptly. “This humble servant accepts the Royal Edict and will dutifully execute the Wind Castle Lord’s command!”
The mounted envoys spared no further glance at the Captain, eager to distance themselves from those they deemed beneath them. “Father really goes too far, sending me on such menial tasks! Even if I lack my brother’s talents, I am still his noble son,” one of them grumbled under his breath.