Chapter One

Towering petrified trees loomed over an elf with long black hair and tanned skin. He strode down the sandy rock road along with a dozen other elves of similar age to him.

Arden paid the fixtures of their home little mind, having spent his entire life surrounded by them. Most assumed an ancient civilization carved them from stone with magic or a cataclysm struck them. To him, they were just a part of his home, nothing more.

He glanced at his fellow elves. Each of them fidgeted with their ceremonial outfits. Fortunately, the induction happened at midnight, otherwise the thick robes would be unbearable.

Arden wasn’t sure who thought it was a good idea to force a bunch of desert elves to wear heavy robes in the middle of the desert. If it weren’t for the official in charge of inducting them into Ortus forcing the formal outfit, he would have torn it off.

Their explanation for the formal attire was this was a once in a lifetime chance to join Ortus. Without Ortus, they couldn’t use magic or the card system, but that didn’t mean they had to stick to pointless traditions.

He would just have to bear with it. Once he finished his induction, he could do whatever he wanted. As an inducted, he would be an adult in the eyes of the law.

There was no point in trying to break their tradition, anyway. Previous generations tried, but the official outright refused to induct them without the proper attire. Those from Magna Vita Urbs were like that. They stuck to the rules no matter what.

At least in front of them, they did. He wouldn’t be surprised if they broke every rule in the book in private.

Unlike the other elves, he strode down the long traditional pathway with confident steps. While he didn’t agree with sticking to tradition, no matter what, he spent his life preparing for this moment. Even if he tried to slack off his parents, forced the issue. They wanted him to succeed and, as their only child after centuries of trying, they put everything they could into him.

He knew no matter what affinity and starting card Ortus granted him, they would stand by him just like he would them. He wasn’t an elf big on tradition, but family was one thing he valued above all.

One day, he would pay them back for all the help they granted him, but in order to do that, he needed to excel.

Finally, after the long walk which sent them in a full circle around the village, then through the center, they reached the ceremonial altar in the village square.

Yet another ridiculous tradition. Why send them parading around the village when their families were already at the village square? Maybe in bigger settlements where they couldn’t fit everyone in one location, but not in their small village.

Despite his thoughts, he kept his face blank in case the official blocked him from induction out of spite. Though he still snuck a glance at his parents standing on the right side of the village square with their neighbors. They sent him encouraging smiles, with his father mouthing good luck and his mother giving him a double thumbs up.

His hands itched to give them a hug, but he held off as he had to continue with the ceremony. They would have plenty of time after.

Like the others, he walked up to the altar and kneeled with his head down and both hands outstretched toward the altar.

He peeked through his hair at the official wearing a heavily embroidered blue robe. Unlike them, who wore plain gray robes signifying their blank slate, the official’s robe glowed with red lines contrasting the blue fabric.

He found the color choice ugly, but there was probably some ceremonial reason he wore it. Not that he cared. All he wanted to do was finish his induction, then plan out his class card quest journey. Not that he would escape anytime soon. Based on previous generations, he knew the officials loved to drone on for ages.

At least they sent an elf this time, though he looked to be a high elf. They were easy to spot with their pale skin from hiding away in the cities all the time and platinum hair.

Not that he would turn away the opportunity to live in the city at least part time. Even with his heat resistant body, some days were almost unbearable.

“We gather here as we enter the fifth millennia of the Ortus era to welcome the next generation to the glorious Ortus! If found worthy, Ortus will grant them its blessing to usher them on their path.”

He zoned out soon after, as it appeared the official was just getting started.

Was there an era before Ortus? His history lessons told him it was a chaotic time before Ortus brought salvation.

The stone trees proved that wrong, of course. No way could a chaotic time craft millions of stone trees. Unless the theory they were real trees destroyed by some cataclysm was true. He hoped he found the answer eventually, just so he could finally end the debate among the desert elves.

Not that he had much chance of doing it. The trees were one of the greatest mysteries of the desert elves up there with how they arrived. If the millennia old elders couldn’t find an answer during their long lives, what chance did he have? Not that he wouldn’t give it an attempt. Like every desert elf before him.

Burning in his arms brought his attention back to the official just as the man spread his arms wide and craned his head to the sky. As if to answer his call, the glowing red lines of his robes grew blinding bright.

Instead of looking away, Arden looked deeper, ignoring the spots in his vision. Particles of the red light broke off from the robe and gathered in piles on the altar.

His eyes widen as a look of awe manifested. The stories didn’t do it justice. It was beautiful.

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The particles continued to peel off until only the blue robe remained. Still, the official remained motionless, staring up at the starry sky.

Only when the particles dimmed to form twelve sets of gray bracelets did the official return his attention to his surroundings. “Rejoice! Ortus found all twelve of this generation worthy!”

Of course it did. Ortus almost always found everyone worthy. The only time it didn’t was when someone didn’t follow the tradition. Likely that was the official’s doing, but who knew? If his borderline heretical thoughts didn’t block him, then he didn’t know what would.

The official’s hands glowed, causing each set of bracelets to float into the air. As he knew what came next, he braced himself before a set of bracelets shot toward his outstretched arms. With a snap, the bracelets encircled his wrists, but that was only the beginning.

Just as the bracelets snapped into place, white lights shined from the sky down on each of them.

The bracelets grew warmer with each passing second until dozens of sharp pricks stabbed into his wrists.

In the next moment, what he could best describe as lava poured into his body, starting at his wrists, then worked its way down his arms.

He struggled to maintain his position, arms trembling and tears of pain forming in his clenched eyes, but he persevered. No matter what, he wouldn’t dishonor his parents’ effort by giving in so easily. He would hang on to the end.

Using his perception honed over the years, he locked onto the potent mana, burning its way down his previously unused mana veins.

It could be worse. He could be a human who weren’t born with an inactive mana system. He didn’t want to imagine the pain of enduring Ortus creating the system from scratch.

With that thought, he relaxed his clenched muscles and watched the mana continue on its path, waiting for the perfect time.

That time came seconds later as the mana reached his shoulders. Unlike most who let the automated initiation funnel the mana to their core, then let the core activate the rest of their system, he took a different route.

His parents pounded into his head from a young age that letting the automated initiation happen only limited future potential. In order to make the most of his potential, he needed to take control. However, that came with risks, but no risk, no reward.

He had to be quick, though. He didn’t want to draw too much attention by taking too long, not that what he was doing was illegal as far as he knew, just not known by most or too risky to attempt.

To finish in time, he latched onto the mana, then split it into three sections. One heading to his core like the others, but the other two veered just before his core below his heart. A headache formed as he strained his mind to control three streams.

Well, two, as he stopped the one headed to his core. If he let it enter, the final stages of the initiation would begin and he would lose his opportunity. Fortunately, it didn’t take much concentration to keep that stream still, almost as if the mana understood his intentions.

In the knowledge the brain would be harder to pull off, He focused on the stream heading down to his stomach. It spider-webbed out on its own to activate the minor veins on its way down. All he had to do was push the stream down the primary veins and let the mana do the rest.

Within seconds, he reached the next junction where the primary veins split off down each leg. Fortunately, the stream headed toward his head hadn’t reached it yet, or this step would be much more difficult. As it was, controlling four streams neared his limits.

Just last week, he managed five streams for a few seconds, but that wasn’t with the added complexity and risk of controlling it within his body.

The pain fell into the background as he put all of his will into the task that could ruin or catapult his potential.

To his relief, other than having to stop the stream toward his brain until he finished his legs, no problems occurred on the lower half of his body. Once the streams reached his toes, he released his control, letting the mana do the rest.

Now for the hard part. He knew his legs wouldn’t pose much of a challenge, but there was always a chance. His brain was another story.

There was a reason most let the automated initiation handle everything, even if they knew they could perform a manual initiation. One wrong move and he could fry his brain but the alterative would be to let his body gradually awaken his veins over weeks sometimes months.

That would mean he would need to complete his class card quest without access to any cards he may gain. While it was risky to awaken manually, he refused to leave himself so vulnerable on a potentially dangerous quest.

If he pulled this off, he would jump ahead of his peers right from the start. Not that he was arrogant enough to think that he was the only one who could achieve a manual initiation, but he doubted there were many in the desert villages.

Movement to his right pushed him on. At least one completed their initiation. Even if he was the last, it wouldn’t be a big deal as long as he didn’t finish too far behind. Automated initiation had a pretty similar time to completion with those of the same race.

He sent the stream up his neck, then into his spinal cord. There he slowed down, taking each vein as carefully as he could. Unlike the rest of the body, where primary veins were spread out, the brain had over a dozen primary veins and hundreds of secondary veins.

The complexity was what made it so hard, but his parents prepared him by having him trace his veins with his senses as a sort of dry run. He knew where each vein was without thinking, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t mess up.

At his brain stem, he split the single stream into twelve and sent them onward at varying speeds. Fortunately, he found the veins helping him control the mana. No way could he free control so many streams at once.

His ears twitched as the veins leading to each of them connected simultaneously. He released his connection to those streams, now down to ten.

Next, he wove around his brain to his optical nerves. His eyes burned, but with the hammering migraine threatening to break his concentration, he barely felt the change.

Fortunately, once he connected to a section, he could release control and let the mana do the rest.

The last part was the most difficult. He had to connect to every brain lobe simultaneously, or an imbalance could occur within his brain. If that were to happen, the best case was a disability of some sort, depending on the lobe. Worst case brain death.

With every bit of his concentration, he pushed the streams forward, then stopped them at the entrance to each lobe. After a momentary pause to ensure the streams were exactly even, he gave them the last nudge.

Pain beyond anything he had ever felt assaulted his mind, causing him to blank for a moment. When he came to, he felt his entire body tingle as a warmth built in his chest.

In panic, he shot his awareness downward, abandoning control of the streams within his brain. Not that it mattered anymore. Good or bad, they reached every section of his brain. He would have to deal with the consequences if there were any later.

A sign of relief escaped him as he found the feeling to be his core initializing. He must have lost control of the stream when he finished his brain. Fortunately, that was fine. Ortus could handle the rest.

He cracked open his eyes to check how far behind he was, only to freeze. The previously white light shining down on his still outstretched bracelets turned a deep shade of green.

That couldn’t be right. The light should be a shade of brown. He was a desert elf, after all. He wasn’t a human who could attain any affinity. His race narrowed down the possibilities to those of the earth tree.

Before he could question things further, a ding resonated through his mind as a weight landed on his outstretched hands.

His eyes shot to his hands to find the expected starter card resting there as the light faded away, leaving only the card and vibrant emerald bracelets in its wake.

Arden lowered his arms and looked down at the card, both worried and excited. Added to his worry was the silence surrounding him, but he didn’t want to face the outside world yet.

He was just a simple desert elf, or was he?