A subtle tension lingered in the air around Brightwood's orchard, borne of recent dangers that refused to be fully dispelled. Though the monstrous boar's second attack had been repelled, the orchard workers no longer strolled carelessly among the trees. Instead, they moved in pairs, careful and watchful, as if the forest itself might conceal the next threat.
Kael observed it all from his vantage on the porch. He had grown accustomed to the hush that followed each crisis—a vigilance that weighed on shoulders and narrowed the orchard's once-relaxed banter. Still, the orchard's daily tasks pressed on. Fruit needed tending. Vines required pruning. Life, after all, rarely paused for reflection, even in the face of lurking dangers.
His father, Joren, had taken an unusual approach to the orchard's defenses in the past few days. When not forging new fence braces, he kept the iron ring within arm's reach. More than once, Kael had caught glimpses of Father curiously tapping the ring, as though testing for a residual glow. It made Kael's heart pang with a mix of pride and secrecy, knowing he had created that faint enchantment.
Faint Whispers of Worry
Dawn light filtered across the orchard one crisp morning, illuminating the dew on every leaf. Kael listened to the chatter of orchard workers loading crates of early-summer harvest onto carts.
"Any sign of boars returning?" one of them asked Rowan.
Rowan shook his head. "None. Let's hope it stays that way. Heard that a traveler saw fresh claw marks near the forest trail, though."
The orchard worker grimaced. "Could be just a regular beast. Could be something else. Either way, I'm not patrolling alone anymore."
Kael's mother, Meria, overheard the exchange while sorting fresh herbs into small bundles. She tightened her shawl around her shoulders, fretful. Each new rumor about claw marks or monstrous sightings added a fresh layer to her anxieties.
Yet Joren kept steady. Each time the orchard's tension spiked, he'd murmur reassuring words: "We've reinforced the fences. We'll keep watch." The orchard workers took solace in that calm leadership. But Kael knew Father's stoic exterior hid lingering aches—from both the boar's injury and the unspoken burden of protecting them all.
Father's Forge and a Curious Visitor
Joren spent his afternoons by the forge, forging replacement tools for orchard tasks. Midday, while Kael sat on a blanket near the anvil, the sound of approaching hooves announced a visitor—Altheon, a traveling mage who occasionally passed through Brightwood. He was a wiry man wearing simple robes and carrying a small staff, known for diagnosing minor magical ailments and selling basic potions.
"Morning, Joren," Altheon greeted, halting near the forge. He sniffed the air, always apparently interested in the tang of metal and heat. "Heard the orchard's had some trouble with beasts. Thought I'd see if I can help with wards or runic alarms."
Joren paused his hammer, set it aside. "We've had a large boar… maybe bigger than any normal beast. Don't know if it's enchanted. It tore the fence a couple of times." He sighed. "We… survived, though. Some sort of hidden magic ward seemed to protect me. Still not sure how."
Altheon's eyes flicked to Kael, who blinked innocently. Then the mage's gaze shifted to the iron ring on Joren's finger. "Curious." He smiled. "Might I take a look? I can sense something faint from that ring."
Joren hesitated, glancing at the ring. Kael's heart tensed, worried Father might allow Altheon to examine it too closely. If the ring's rudimentary runes were discovered, questions would abound.
But Father cleared his throat. "I'm not sure. Something about it… feels personal. We're not certain who made it." He slid the ring off anyway, albeit reluctantly, and handed it over. "Just be gentle."
Altheon took the ring between his fingertips, closed his eyes, and murmured a small scanning chant. A faint shimmer traced the ring's edge. Kael clutched the blanket, pulse racing. Please don't unravel the enchantment entirely, he prayed silently.
After a few moments, Altheon opened his eyes, brow furrowed. "Primitive runic lines, but… cunningly woven. It's like a partial bulwark—a single-use barrier triggered by physical impact. Also, I detect the faintest trace of Earth synergy." He handed it back to Joren. "Did you craft it?"
Joren shook his head. "No. It turned up among my scraps one morning."
Altheon exhaled. "Then I suspect someone gifted it to you. Possibly an old wardsmith or a traveler who took pity on the orchard. In any case, it's stable enough but has limited charges. If you truly want to protect your orchard for the long term, you might consider setting wards around the fence lines. I can do so at a modest cost."
Father nodded, thoughtful. "We might. Thank you."
The mage cast a glance Kael's way, smiling gently at the infant's wide-eyed expression. Then he departed, promising to stop by the orchard's boundary the next day to propose warding solutions. Kael let out a quiet sigh of relief. At least he didn't dismantle the enchantment entirely.
A Brewing Storm Overhead
That evening, dark clouds rolled across the sky. A stiff wind raked through orchard rows, rustling the leaves and snapping at the new fence braces. Workers pulled tarps over supplies and hurried to store crates in the barn. Meria ushered Kael indoors just as fat raindrops began to fall.
The wind howled, uncharacteristically fierce for a summer storm. Kael listened to the pounding rain on the roof from his cradle. Through the window, occasional flashes of lightning revealed orchard silhouettes. Something about the storm set him on edge—a swirling energy in the air, reminiscent of the time he'd sensed stray mana spikes.
Outside, Jordan lit a lantern, preparing to do a final check of the orchard. Mother clung to his arm. "Must you go? The storm's terrible."
He kissed her cheek. "I won't be long. Just making sure the fences hold. After that, I'll come right back." He patted his ring pocket. "We have some protection, remember?"
A Fateful Roar
The storm's thunderclaps masked most sounds, but halfway through Joren's orchard inspection, a deep bellow cut through the wind. Kael, half-dozing in the cradle, startled awake. Another roar followed, and outside, orchard hands shouted in alarm.
Mother scrambled to the door, looking frantic. "Joren!"
Kael's heart lurched. It must be that monstrous boar or another beast… He recalled the scarring on the fence. Perhaps the beast had been lurking, waiting for the orchard's vigilance to drop. Now a stormy night offered a perfect shroud.
He wriggled free of the cradle. The roar came again—closer. Shadows danced in the flickering lantern light from outside. Orchard workers dashed across the yard, brandishing pitchforks or staves. Mother hurried out to see how she could help, forgetting Kael in her panic.
This is my chance. Kael crawled to the back door. He had to assist Father, ring or not. The orchard had fended off boars, but if this was bigger—like a large mana-infused creature—only a well-timed synergy strike might suffice.
Clash at the Old Fence
Lightning flared overhead, illuminating a hulking silhouette at the orchard's far boundary. Whether it was the same boar as before or an even more mutated variety, Kael couldn't tell. Its form seemed bulkier, tusks sharper, eyes glowing red. Father and two orchard workers formed a shaky line with spears, but the beast charged so ferociously that the men stumbled back.
Metal fence supports, recently installed, tore free under the boar's assault. Father managed a desperate swing with a wooden staff—his forging hammer had been left behind in the rush—while the orchard workers jabbed at the flank. But the beast's hide looked unnaturally tough. Rain drenched everything, muddying the ground and dulling the men's footing.
Kael hid behind a half-barrel, about twenty yards from the fence line, pulse hammering. This might require more than Earthen Flame Gust. The boar's hide had grown thicker since last time, or perhaps the swirling storm energy was amplifying it. Kael inhaled, summoning the synergy of Earth, Fire, and Air as he had before. If he could strike the boar's underside or an unarmored joint, maybe he could turn the tide again.
[Notification: Earthen Flame Gust → +3% skill familiarity!]
Mana swelled in Kael's tiny hands. He took aim at the boar's side. Father was pinned near a splintered fence post, ring glimmering faintly. The orchard hands yelled, but they were outmatched. Kael had no choice but to intervene.
He unleashed Earthen Flame Gust. The swirling fire-laced wind arced across the orchard grass, skidding through the rain. For a heartbeat, Kael feared the storm would snuff it out. But the synergy held, slamming into the boar's hindquarters with a burst of heated wind. Steam rose where the flames collided with rain-soaked fur. The beast howled, momentarily stunned.
Father and the orchard workers took the opening, striking the boar's flank with renewed force. Joren's staff connected with enough momentum to knock the beast sideways—though at a cost. A savage back-kick from the boar crashed into his leg, sending him sprawling.
A Reprieve and a Terrible Realization
The boar reeled from the synergy blow, stumbling away from the orchard fence. It paused under a flash of lightning, glaring around for the source of that scorching wind. Kael ducked behind the barrel, heart hammering. I must be cautious or it'll see me.
Father gritted his teeth, pushing himself upright. He tried to limp closer, but the boar let out another monstrous roar, apparently summoning the last of its frenzy.
In that moment, Kael noticed something glimmering around the boar's neck—a faint ring of brambles twisted like a collar. Or maybe a twisted root of sorts, embedded with small crystals. This might be why it's so strong, Kael realized. Could be a remnant of old forest magic or a lesser skill stone lodged in some kind of collar.
If that collar was fueling the boar's aggression and resilience, removing it might break the unnatural enhancement. Kael narrowed his eyes, scanning the aura with his budding Mana Sense. Indeed, flickers of chaotic Earth mana crackled around the boar's neck.
[Notification: Mana Sense → Lv.3. +1 Intelligence from focused application!]
Kael's mind raced. If the orchard fought a normal beast, they might eventually subdue it. But with this collar acting like a crude skill stone, the boar risked meltdown or further rampage. That meltdown could lead to catastrophic damage for the orchard—or cause the boar to mutate further.
A Desperate Decision
Thunder crashed overhead. Father tried to circle behind the boar, limping but determined. Another orchard worker brandished a pitchfork at its face, distracting it for a moment. The boar snorted, ignoring the forks' shallow jabs.
Kael assessed the swirling synergy in his chest. He'd done Earthen Flame Gust, but maybe a direct targeted approach—something aimed at the collar—would help. If he could break that piece of root or pry loose the embedded crystals, the boar might revert to a normal (albeit large) beast.
He inhaled. I need a more precise skill. Something between Earth's solidity and a cutting edge was needed. He'd practiced weaving slivers of Air synergy for a sharper strike, but had never fully fused it with Earth. Could he attempt a new skill on the spot?
[Notification: Potential synergy: Earth + Air → ??? Processing…]
Kael concentrated, shaping a mental image of a hardened stone spike propelled by a burst of slicing wind. The concept was delicate—he risked a surge of dissonance if he rushed it. But his Sage's Insight prodded him gently, guiding the runic patterns in his mind.
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[Notification: Skill Attempt: "Stone Wind Lance" – Integration Checking…]
Lightning flared again, revealing the boar's hunched form. Father waved the orchard workers back. They looked battered, out of breath, clearly at a disadvantage. Kael resolved to act.
Stone Wind Lance
In the shadow of the half-barrel, Kael exhaled, weaving Earth synergy into a compact shape while funneling Air around it. His toddler arms trembled from the strain. The swirling air threatened to disperse in the storm's gusts. But he held firm, remembering how carefully he had fused Fire and Earth before.
This time, he replaced Fire with a cutting vortex of Air. The synergy condensed into a thin, lance-like form of hardened earth within a spiraling wind shell. Tiny arcs of energy crackled around it, flickering in and out.
[Notification: New Skill Formed – "Stone Wind Lance" (Basic, Lv.1). +1 Spirit for synergy creation!]
Sweat beaded on Kael's brow. He aimed at the boar's neck. It was only a dozen yards away, thrashing at orchard workers with renewed fury. Father managed to block another charge using the faint ring shield once, but the ring's glow looked weak, near depletion.
Kael whispered a silent apology to the boar—he only wanted to break the collar. Then he hurled the Stone Wind Lance with all his will.
A spiraling projectile of compressed stone shot forward, slicing through the rain-laden air. The whirling wind kept it stable, and it drove straight at the boar's throat. In a heartbeat, it struck the collar of twisted roots with a crack. Sparks erupted, and the beast reeled back, squealing in pain.
The collar splintered, shards of embedded crystals scattering. An unearthly wail echoed across the orchard. For a moment, a swirl of corrupted mana flared around the boar's neck—then dissipated into the storm.
Tumbling Consequences
The boar collapsed to its knees, breath rasping. Its eyes dimmed from that fierce red glow to a more ordinary hue. Father and the orchard hands, stunned, rushed in. One worker hesitated, then jabbed a pitchfork carefully. This time, the hide parted like normal flesh. The beast bellowed softly, as though awakening from a bad dream.
Kael felt a pang of sympathy. Freed from the collar's unnatural rage, the boar was just a wounded creature. Father, seeing the spear's strike, raised a hand. "Careful. It might be returning to normal."
But the orchard needed safety, and the beast was too large to keep alive if it remained in the orchard. The orchard hands exchanged looks, then ended its suffering with a swift thrust. The boar slumped onto the muddy ground, lifeless.
Kael swallowed hard. He hated to see creatures suffer, but the orchard's survival was paramount. He exhaled, letting the synergy recede.
[Notification: Stone Wind Lance → +4% skill familiarity!]
After the Storm
Once the storm subsided, orchard workers built a small pyre to dispose of the boar's remains. Even though it had caused much grief, some said quiet prayers for the creature that had once been an ordinary forest animal, warped by unnatural means. Father took a piece of the shattered collar's root to examine later—maybe to show Altheon or any traveling mage who could identify it.
Mother embraced Father, relief flooding her face. "You're hurt again," she chided, noticing the bruises. He just shook his head, pulling her close. The orchard workers, exhausted but alive, began cleaning up debris.
Kael watched from the shadows, heart still pounding from the adrenaline. He felt a wave of satisfaction at successfully forging a new skill in the heat of battle. Even so, the orchard's growing pattern of monstrous intrusions weighed on him. Something in these woods has changed, he mused. That collar suggests an external influence—like demonic or twisted magics.
Quiet Recognition
In the faint light of dawn, long after the boar's remains were burned, orchard folk huddled around the barn for warmth. Father approached the small area where Kael lay in his cradle, having been retrieved by Mother after the fight. Kael pretended to be asleep, yet Father knelt beside him, expression thoughtful.
Joren gently brushed Kael's cheek with a calloused thumb. "Twice, I've felt strange protective magic. Twice, the orchard's been saved by something I can't explain," he murmured softly. "I wish I knew who or what is guiding us."
For a heartbeat, Kael nearly reached out, wanting to reassure Father that he wasn't alone. But he kept still. One day, you'll know, Kael promised silently. But not yet.
The Traveling Mage's Verdict
Later that morning, Altheon reappeared as planned to discuss warding runes. He found the orchard workers half-exhausted, the orchard fences splintered again, and the faint stench of burnt boar drifting on the wind.
A hush fell as Altheon examined the broken collar Father handed him. The mage's face darkened. "This is no ordinary piece of root. It's laced with raw earth-aspect crystals—a primitive skill-stone growth, I'd wager. Possibly formed in a corrupted patch of forest. If animals wander there, they could become monstrous." He sighed. "You're lucky to be alive."
Father nodded solemnly. "Will wards keep them away?"
Altheon pursed his lips. "Ordinary wards can deter lesser beasts, but if more of these corrupted creatures roam, you need stronger measures—or a local guard. Your orchard is too large for a single ring or a handful of minor wards to protect indefinitely."
The orchard stewards gathered, uncertain how to proceed. They had few coins to hire mercenaries, and the orchard's profits had already suffered from these disruptions. Altheon set a small glowing stone on a table. "I can place a basic ward formation for a week or two. Enough to give you time to plan. But if the corruption spreads, you'll need a permanent solution."
Kael listened from the corner of the forge. His mind whirled with possibilities: forging more protective rings, systematically patrolling, even clearing the corrupted patch of forest. But how?
Internal Drive for Growth
As twilight approached, orchard tasks resumed. Father hammered new fence posts with a grim determination, ignoring his limp. Rowan organized a small watch rotation, while Altheon sketched ward runes along the perimeter to buy them time. Meanwhile, Kael felt a renewed urgency to expand his skill repertoire.
He sneaked away behind the barn, practicing the synergy for Stone Wind Lance. If more corrupted beasts emerged, a well-placed lance could break unnatural collars or crystals. That single targeted strike had proven effective, but it drained him quickly.
Focusing carefully, he formed a small sphere of Earth synergy, then layered a swirling band of Air around it. He tried to sense how to reduce mana waste.
[Notification: Stone Wind Lance → +2% skill familiarity. +1 Intelligence from repeated synergy practice!]
A jolt of mild dizziness accompanied the synergy's release. He gripped the barn wall, realizing his small body had limited stamina. I need to pace myself.
Breathing heavily, he sat down, letting his mind calm. That was two incremental improvements in the same day—a testament to his potential, but also a risk. If he overdid it, he might suffer dissonance or exhaustion, even if his immunity prevented meltdown.
Subtle Gains and Reflection
Once Kael recovered, he mentally summoned his Status Window, ensuring no orchard worker was nearby to see him. He had to track these quiet developments.
Status WindowName: Kael AshborneTalent: SSS (Hidden)Age: ~6 MonthsCore Grade: UnawakenedPhysique:Omni-Element Physique (Sealed)Level: 1
Strength: 4Intelligence: 12 (increased)Spirit: 19 (increased)Agility: 3Constitution: 3
Trait: Sage's Insight (Passive)
Skills:
Mana Sense (Novice, Lv.3)Minor Air Channeling (Novice, Lv.9)Minor Fire Channeling (Novice, Lv.4)Minor Earth Channeling (Novice, Lv.5)Earthen Flame Gust (Basic, Lv.1)Stone Wind Lance (Basic, Lv.1)
Satisfied, Kael closed the panel. Two Basic-ranked attack skills now, plus incremental progress in channeling. The orchard might face more monstrous intrusions, but at least he had new ways to intervene. Still, I should be careful. Overusing these spells in front of everyone could spark suspicion I can't yet manage.
He recalled how father had examined him earlier, that thoughtful look in his eyes. Sooner or later, someone might piece together the orchard's "miraculous" defenses. Kael sighed. He yearned to protect them openly, but it was too soon to reveal a toddler's advanced magic. Let them credit wards or mysterious orchard guardians for now.
Evening's Parting Words
With the orchard stabilizing under Altheon's temporary wards, the traveling mage prepared to leave for another client in a nearby village. He advised Rowan to keep watch at night and to consider hiring a professional exorcist if the forest was truly tainted.
Before departing, Altheon held a brief conversation with Joren and Meria. "If you ever suspect deeper corruption in these woods, send word to the capital. The Mage Council may dispatch a cleansing team—though that can be costly. For now, keep vigilant and pray the corruption doesn't spread."
Joren thanked him, eyes drifting to the orchard boundaries. "We'll manage," he said quietly, though a note of uncertainty lingered in his voice.
Kael recognized that Father was bracing for a fight. The orchard had faced two attacks in short succession, each worse than the last. If a third wave arrived, or if a demon-cult influence lay behind the mutated boars, the orchard might stand in true peril.
A Quiet Resolve
Night descended once more, but this time the orchard felt less panicked. The wards along the fence edges glowed faintly, lines of pale runes flickering at intervals. Workers on watch carried lanterns, scanning the perimeter.
Inside the house, Kael nestled in his cradle. Father rested in a chair across from him, wincing as Meria applied a salve to his bruised calf. The flicker of lamplight highlighted new lines of worry on Father's face.
"I'll be fine," Joren said softly, patting Meria's hand. "Just a bruise." He paused, sighing. "Meria, if these attacks continue, maybe we should send Kael somewhere safer. A relative's farm… or the city. Until Brightwood is secure."
Kael's heart lurched. He didn't want to be separated. But Mother shook her head adamantly. "And tear our family apart? I can't bear that. Besides, Kael—" She broke off, glancing at Kael's wide eyes. "He belongs here with us, for now."
Father exhaled, tension easing. "You're right. We'll protect him here. If things worsen… we'll see."
From his cradle, Kael silently affirmed that no matter what lurked in the forest, he would not abandon them. I'm here to protect you too, he thought resolutely. I'll strengthen these orchard defenses in my own way.
Dawn's Hope
Come morning, the orchard rose to a mild drizzle, the heavy storm having passed. Workers found no new signs of monstrous intrusions, and the boar's ashes had been scattered. A subdued sense of relief spread, though nobody dared call it victory. Rowan insisted on extra watch shifts for the foreseeable future.
Kael's mother carried him around the orchard as she did her tasks, letting him see how the wards carved by Altheon shimmered on fence posts. It was a new sight for Kael—runes spelled out in practiced lines. He studied them carefully, gleaning how the mage used Earth-based runic anchors for the orchard's terrain.
[Notification: +1 Intelligence from analyzing basic ward runes!]
He stifled a grin. Even these wards are knowledge to learn from.
Mother noticed his curious expression, smiling gently. "You like those little symbols, don't you?" she teased, not realizing the depth of his interest. "I do too. They're so…mystical."
He nodded, or at least bobbed in her arms. If only she knew how every swirl of runic script might spark a new method for him to protect them.
Subtle Steps Toward the Future
For the next few days, calm prevailed. Kael kept a low profile, feigning normal baby behaviors yet stealing moments to refine Stone Wind Lance. He practiced adjusting the ratio of Earth to Air synergy, aiming for a more efficient mana cost. Precision over raw force.
At the same time, he reconsidered forging more protective charms like Father's ring. If each orchard worker carried a small talisman, even a single defensive layer could reduce injuries. But crafting that many would be suspicious. He pondered selectively enchanting a handful of orchard tools, disguising them as runic patterns "for extra durability." Over time, maybe each worker's pitchfork or shovel could hold a minor protective effect.
Yet that required careful secrecy. He might attempt a single test with Father's own forging hammer—embedding Earth synergy to strengthen it or create a small auto-shield. But that means forging runes in Father's presence…
Opportunity for that kind of forging might come soon. Meanwhile, he resolved to gather more knowledge. Perhaps once he could speak clearly—still far off—he could gently guide Father to add runic patterns to orchard fences, all under the guise of "old forging traditions."
A Glimmer of Normalcy
Despite the orchard's lingering vigilance, pockets of normal life returned. Each afternoon, children played in the orchard yard, laughter mixing with the chirping of birds. The orchard caretaker resumed scheduling daily tasks without the constant overshadow of dread.
Kael found solace in these glimpses of normalcy. Observing how the orchard folk persevered gave him inspiration. They refused to be broken by monstrous threats. Father resumed forging orchard tools, occasionally wincing but never complaining. Mother scolded him for working too hard, though she too recognized the orchard needed every effort to rebuild.
During one quiet afternoon, Kael dared to crawl near Father's anvil. He pressed a tiny palm to the leftover metal scraps, feeling the faint resonance of steel. If he quietly infused a scrap with Earth synergy—just to see how a small enchantment might form—would Father notice?
A Measured Attempt
He rummaged among the discarded metal bits until he found a small wedge shape. With a careful breath, Kael pressed his palm to it. He pictured the same principle as Father's ring—storing a minimal protective effect. Perhaps a one-time stiffening shield for the orchard workers?
[Notification: Attempting Minor Rune Infusion → Earth synergy… Processing…]
His toddler heart pounded. If Father appeared, Kael would have to pretend to be messing with random metal. The synergy flickered along the wedge's surface, forming faint runic lines reminiscent of a brace effect—designed to reinforce an impact or reduce blowback.
[Notification: Minor Rune Infusion partially successful. +1 Spirit from forging synergy into metal!]
The wedge glimmered, then cooled. Kael set it aside, pulse thrumming with excitement. Another tiny step forward. He'd keep this item hidden for now, perhaps slip it among orchard repairs later. If an orchard worker unknowingly used a brace-enchanted wedge to secure fence posts, they might benefit from a slight structural reinforcement.
The Path Ahead
Days turned to a week, and no further monstrous intrusions occurred. Altheon's wards held, Father's ring remained in his pocket as a final fallback, and Kael refined his new skill in secret. The orchard was far from safe overall—somewhere in the forest, that corruption likely festered, waiting to ensnare more beasts. But for now, the orchard breathed a little easier.
Kael sensed a stirring within himself, a drive to push beyond these small feats. The notion of Skill Stones—like that boar's collar—concerned him. He recognized how easily such items could warp nature or lead to meltdown if misused. This orchard incident might be the first sign that skill stone corruption wasn't limited to dungeons or shady markets—it could appear spontaneously in places saturated with stray mana. Or perhaps a hidden hand was scattering these seeds of chaos on purpose.
While orchard life resumed a precarious balance, Kael planned his next steps:
Practice Stone Wind Lance to reduce mana cost.Subtly infuse orchard tools or scraps with runes, giving everyone a modest layer of defense.Keep watch for any sign of new monstrous creatures or suspicious travelers.Remain inconspicuous about his abilities, only intervening when absolutely necessary.
If the orchard was tested again, he would be ready—armed with a growing array of synergy. One day, I'll ensure Father no longer fights alone.
And so ended a stormy chapter in Brightwood's orchard, with Kael quietly forging hope in the shadows—a child whose power grew with each sunrise, and whose determination to protect these gentle folk shone as fiercely as any orchard lantern in the darkest night.