Vale's chainmail felt heavy against her sweat-slicked skin, the links biting into her shoulders like hungry teeth. The air thrummed with tight tension, punctuated by the clang of steel and the guttural roar of men turned beasts. Her heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs, a drumbeat lost in the cacophony of war.

The sun, a molten coin in the smoke-choked sky, cast long, grotesque shadows. The once-emerald meadow was now a tapestry of crimson and mud, churned to life by the dance of death. Knights clashed like enraged bulls, their swords spitting silver fireflies in the fading light. Archers rained shafts tipped with death from the flanks, their bows groaning like tortured souls.

But even the din of earthly battle couldn't drown out the whispers of magic. Vale squinted through the haze, searching for the flicker of violet on the battlefield. There was a streak of amethyst against the tide of iron, the enemy commander's raven cloak billowing like a storm cloud as he wove through the fray. With each step, the earth pulsed with a rhythmic tremor.

Vale gritted her teeth, forcing her gaze away from the spectacle. She wasn't a battlefield dancer like that commander, a weaver of spells. She was a foot soldier, a cog in the iron machine of war. Her power is none. Maybe a will to live if that even is much.

She felt it then—a cold tendril of dread snaking from the enemy lines. Not the raw, animal terror of men facing blades, but something deeper, more primal. A shadow fell over the battlefield, a chilling gust of unnatural wind that sent shivers dancing down Vale's spine.

Her gaze snapped toward the source. On a rise overlooking the carnage, a figure cloaked in obsidian stood as still as a statue. Its face, obscured by a hood, was a canvas of swirling darkness, with tendrils of inky mist writhing around her like hungry serpents. In her hand, she gripped a sword as black as night, crackling with an energy that pulsed with the rhythm of a dying heart.

A Saint. Her power, heavy and malignant, pressed down on the battlefield like a leaden weight, choking the very air with dread. Panic threatened to claw its way up Vale's throat, but she choked it back.

Terror, raw and primal, washed over the ally ranks. Screams ripped through the air as monstrous silhouettes writhed within the eclipse, phantom claws tearing at the fabric of reality. Flag-bearers stumbled, their banners drooping limp in the sudden chill. Horses reared, whinnying in fear, and soldiers threw down their weapons, fleeing like craven rats before a hungry beast.

The air is now filled with a different energy, alien and chaotic. The eclipse writhed, its form distorting until it resembled an obsidian sun dripping with an ichor of flame. Cracks snaked across the sky, jagged fissures pulsing with blinding light.

Before Vale could even gasp a warning, the world convulsed. A flash, brighter than a thousand suns, detonated in the heavens. The ground shuddered, and a deafening roar ripped through the stunned silence. Value was thrown through the air, a ragdoll caught in the grip of a celestial tantrum.

Pain, a white-hot agony, lanced through her as she slammed into the earth. Darkness, thick and suffocating, swallowed her whole. The last thing she saw before oblivion claimed her was the crimson spewing of the body's of her division crimson rivers laid upon the earth.

Vale woke, coughing smoke and tasting ash. Dim shadows danced on the battlefield's ravaged canvas, painted crimson with dusk and the echoes of war cries. The metallic tang of blood hung heavy in the air, a suffocating counterpoint to the distant clang of retreating steel. Around her, comrades lay still, their whispers silenced, forever entombed in the tapestry of war.

Lifting her head up, searing agony ripped through her, a symphony of broken bones and torn flesh looking for mere moments, seeing her limbs mangled and chared fused with her cheap chainmill armor. Pain felt through her every being. Her own scream echoed in her ears, choked by the dust and ash filling her lungs. She wanted to claw at the pain to rip it away, but her limbs felt like leaden weights, refusing to obey.

Then, a crimson crack of jagged bolts of energy snaked down, engulfing her in a searing embrace. The agony spiked—a white-hot inferno that consumed her every sense. It was a primal scream, an overwhelming intensity of existence. The world was grim dim as pain shot through her body, as she felt that every molecule within her body was being destroyed. Once again, Valerie was blessed by Oblivion.

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Vale awoke, or perhaps emerged, into a different kind of pain. A sharp throb, a slow ache that pulsed with each ragged breath. Her body felt alien, stitched together with an unseen thread, sparking with faint, red energy. Tentatively, she flexed her fingers, marveling at the simple act. Each movement was a victory, a testament to the unseen force that had dragged her back from the brink of death.

Days and nights passed, measured in her own healing. Sleep came in rare moments, chased away by the pain throughout her body. But with each sunrise, the pain lessened, and the fog in her mind cleared. Remembering the fear of war, the horried stench hit her nostrils like a charred human.

And the red lightning? A kindling of her awakening, a hope for survival. 'Maybe I can live.' With exhaustion over her body, she finally slipped to sleep.

Her body, once shattered, bore no scars from its ordeal. But within her mind, there bloomed a new strength, a resilience forged in the fires of pain and tempered by the red lightning's touch.

Barely lifting her head with her remaining strength, she pushed her arms up, her hands trembling as she sat up, seeing her mangled so-called armor, her body perfect from any wounds or scars.

Lifting her head up, a weight pressed on her eyes, seeing bodies scattered everywhere, silver armor turned blacked by the strange magic performed.

What was that magic? It turned everything into a crimson bath, killing thousands upon thousands of dormant soldiers in an instant.

Nonetheless, what had healed my body, leaving nothing but perfection? I heard of strange awakenings, but never of a power that could heal you to this extent. Vale vaguely remembered what those who had awakened could see as a guide, which only they possessed.

Reaching out with her mind, she closed her eyes. And then it happened. A panel unfolded, a reflection of her very being. Each line is a brushstroke of power, a glimpse of the potential locked within.

[Name: Valerie]

[Titles:]

[Race: human]

[Rank: kindling]

[Abilities:]

[Essence of life], [illusionist], [fast learner], [inate comprehension], [iron will], [favored by the ???]

Essence of life. That is what saved me: focusing, then a description appears.

[Essence of life]

The power to heal and destroy life, but at the cost of searing pain.

A powerful boon, a double-edged blade she would wield with caution.

'This caused enough pain to knock me out.'

[Illusionist]

You bend perception. Sight, sound, pain, and even touch can dance at your fingertips; you can conjure mirages—a symphony of soundless music. or cloaking yourself in a bustling crowd, unseen and unheard.

Vale's eyes widened like sapphies catching a sudden sunbeam. The word "illusionist" danced before her, a whispered promise of impossible possibilities. A thrill shot through her, igniting a spark of excitement in her.

'If I can bend perception, this wuld be good for scouting and assassinations... The possibilities for this are endless. I need to practice this before I can say that it's powerful.'

[Fast learner]

You learn faster than others!

'What did I expect?

[Initiate comprehension]

learning without textbooks, mastering languages without dictionaries. An inherent fluency blooms within you, whispering the secrets of foreign tongues and unlocking the wisdom hidden in cryptic texts within you.

"Innate comprehension," Vale whispered, the words tasting rich and foreign on her tongue. It wasn't just an ignorable power; it was a great boon, a chance to grow, to learn, and to become more powerful.

'this. This would work well for fast learners. Not only does this mean I can comprehend things faster and learn them, but I can also now read... And I know foreign languages, but I don't know how this would work exactly yet.'

[iron will]

an unyielding resolve, a mental fortitude that bends but never breaks. It's a power not unwavering focus, the ability to face down any challenge.

This resolve wasn't about being invincible or emotionless. It was about understanding that emotions, like waves, could come and go, but beneath them lay a bedrock of determination, a silent promise to stay the course.

[Favored by the ???]

You are favored by the ???

Vale's gaze lingered on the "favored by the???" line, and her brow furrowed in a mix of curiosity and confusion. Unlike the tangible powers listed above, this remained shrouded in mystery, a tantalizing hint of something unknown.

'What could it mean to be favored by the unknown?'

Instead of fixating on the unknown, Vale could choose to focus on what lies ahead.

Opening her eyes once more, she saw the masses of bodies and crimson from which the ground was drinking. Once again, she closed her eyes to the horrors that surrounded her. Now that she looked at it with a sober mind, she faintly heard the flash of feet in the distance.

In the distance, she saw flags being held high and marching toward her. The flags held a serpant wrapped around a sword

that was bleeding itself around them. The soldiers marched closer.

The allies have arrived.