Today was the day, he told himself.

The day he would either soar with the eagles, or fall into obscurity.

He sat anxiously on a bench against the wall of a hallway lined with portraits of people he didn’t know. To his right was an ornate wooden door, and to his left was another. He was alone in this place, but he didn’t mind it.

The door to his right opened on schedule, and he stood as a man in long robes stepped out. The man’s eyes raked over him, lingering on his abnormally yellow eyes, before a hand popped out of a sleeve and gestured for Lokus to follow.

Swallowing his anxiety, Lokus stepped forward.

…….

“Look within yourself. Do you know who you are?”

The calm, unhurried voice of his instructor, known as the hirun, muttered soft revelations. His voice was neither loud nor quiet, and in fact, he spoke at a normal volume, but to Lokus each word was like an alluring, tantalizing whisper, faint and yet omnipresent within the confines of his thoughts.

“Feel the rush of blood in your veins, the pitter-patter of your heart beating. It’s as calming as rain falling on the ground while you’re trying to sleep, as powerful and unyielding as your very life.”

Lokus had been anticipating this day for months.

Ever since he was born, those in his village looked at him differently, even his parents. His birth-given name, “Lokus,” was symbolic of that. He was seen as a blight, an unwanted plague, like the locusts that ravaged the crops of his village’s farms.

Not because he was a bad person, although Lokus wouldn’t call himself a saint, nor because of something like a prophecy or anything, but because he was cursed.

At least, that’s what the villagers believed.

“Your heart is but one branch of the tree of life that makes you who you are. Trace its life-giving blood through your body, experience the inner workings of yourself.”

Lokus was born in the wrong place at the wrong time.

A few decades ago, long before he was even a fetus in his mother’s womb, a terrible beast had swept through his village, killing dozens and destroying many homes.

That beast had yellow eyes. So, when Lokus was born, and the villagers saw he shared the same eyes as the one that caused them so much grief, their first thoughts were filled with fear, which quickly gave way to hatred.

“Use these pathways, find within yourself the source of your Majesty. Nestled between two of your vertebrae, in the middle of your spine, a well of great power resides. Gaze upon this gateway to a new life, embrace it.”

It sounded like a cliché start to a half-baked story where the hero was ostracized and scorned before his true powers were revealed and he became beloved by all, saving the world thrice over from the clutches of evil.

But this was no story, and Lokus was no hero. No, Lokus was a simple man, with simple aspirations.

He wanted power.

He hated the way others looked at him. After leaving his village and his parents behind two years ago, he had hoped that the residents of this city would treat him better. After all, that superposition had been left behind in his village as well.

And while he had in part gotten what he wanted, he didn’t miss the nervous or scornful glances he received while simply walking down the street or buying food. They didn’t shun him, but they didn’t like him either.

And every time he caught them staring, it was always at the same place: his yellow eyes.

Once he was powerful enough, capable of crushing that beast that caused him so much heartache with a mere flip of the palm, would anyone dare to give him that same look? Lokus planned to find out.

“Let its power flow through you, just as your heart’s blood rushes through your veins. Let it fill you like a vessel, contain its energy and bend it to your will.”

The journey to this city was difficult, but manageable. He had been lucky enough to only encounter wild predators less than a handful of times, and had gotten away from them without any major injuries.

Once he got here, he got the first job he could find, a low-paying job sweeping and cleaning up after hours in some dingy shop on the outskirts of town, and spent the next two years saving up for this very moment.

Now he was as destitute as he was when he arrived back then, but if this “Coronation” worked, it would all be worth it.

And it would work, he was certain of it. What were these eyes of his, if not a sign of his slumbering abilities? He refused to believe that they were given to him only to make his life more difficult.

“Welcome it like an old friend, a brother. For it has been with you all your life, and will be with you until the very end.”

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A shiver ran down Lokus’ spine as he found a small ball of energy in his spine and mentally poked it, releasing a stream of energy that filled him to the brim with intoxicating strength.

An immense feeling of pride and happiness swelled in his chest as he realized that the last two years of his life hadn’t been wasted. He wouldn’t fail this ceremony.

“Lovers may betray you, parents may disown you, the very world may fall down upon your shoulders, but this power, this Majesty, will always be by your side.”

Lokus let out a soft breath, his closed eyes unable to see the misty vapor that left his lips. A confusing phenomenon, considering the room he sat cross-legged in was rather warm.

As this Majesty poured into every crevice of his being, small crystals of ice formed on his lips, turning them blue. They gathered in his brown hair, giving it a dazzling appearance under the gentle white light illuminating the room, and crept up his forearms and down his legs.

But even though ice and frost continued to grow on his slim form, Lokus didn’t even notice. His breath came out hitched and shallow, as if he had been plunged into icy water, but it wasn’t happening because of the cold.

The energy within him was building up to something, something that left him gasping for air as he felt untold power coursing through his limbs, into his lungs, soaking his brain.

The hirun’s words had long since halted, but Lokus showed no signs of stopping.

Finally…

[Phantom Monarch System awakened.]

‘What?’ Lokus thought.

The noise echoed in his mind, as all-encompassing as the hirun’s words had been, and startled him out of his meditation.

Lokus’ yellow eyes opened in confusion, a weird frown appearing on his face when he saw the ice on his arms and legs.

Turning to the hirun behind him, he said, “Did I succeed? Am I a…”

He trailed off when he noticed the hirun’s expression, and his happiness instantly faded.

It was the look he had seen all his life.

“You…” the hirun said carefully. “Wait here.”

The hirun turned and hurried out of the room, a loud KERCHAK sounding as he locked Lokus inside.

Lokus looked down at his hands, his demeanor souring.

‘What do they think I’ve done this time?’ he wondered. It looked like harmless ice to him. Come to think of it, why didn’t he feel cold?

He didn’t have long to ponder the question as the lock on the door started to rattle.

Standing quickly, his body tensed as a man dressed in formidable black armor and with a sword strapped to his hip walked in, followed by the hirun who had locked Lokus inside.

“Is this him?” the armored man asked in a gruff voice, his cold blue eyes scrutinizing Lokus’ youthful features as if he were looking at a convicted murderer.

“Yes,” the hirun nodded, shooting Lokus a loathing glance. “His Mantle has granted him a Frost affinity.”

The man nodded, placing a hand on the pommel of his sword as he met Lokus’ gaze.

The air sang as if a sword had been drawn from its scabbard, although the man’s hand didn’t move, and an immense pressure slammed into Lokus, turning his world black.

………

Lokus woke up in chains.

His shirt and shoes had been stripped from him, leaving him with only the raggedy brown pants he had worn for the last five months. His arms were bound above his head in an uncomfortable position, his wrists crossed and shackled, and loose loops of metal around his ankles prevented him from moving his legs far.

A strange feeling licked at Lokus’ exposed torso and arms. It was like he knew he was supposed to be cold, and yet he wasn’t. ‘This must be because of my ‘Frost’ affinity,’ he reasoned.

But what was a Mantle?

[Mantles are the source of your Majesty and your affinities, and can be found within your Sovereign Gateways. Every Monarch is born with one, slumbering within them. Mantles adhere to the following categories:

>Krone

>Hercor

>Allweill

>Augulus

>Magevas

To learn more, please ask about each type individually.]

Lokus blinked at the screen in front of him. Even in the dim light of his cell, it was easily visible, almost as if it existed exclusively within his mind.

‘What… is this?’

He honestly wasn’t expecting an answer, but he got one anyway.

[The Phantom Monarch System is a product of your Mantle, Disturbed Crown. Its purpose is to quantify your Monarch powers and guide you on the first legs of your journey.]

“…”

Was he hallucinating? It sounded like the most plausible explanation, but then was his Coronation a hallucination as well? Had he dreamt up the past two years of his life?

‘No, that’s ridiculous,’ he thought. It was much more likely that only this Phantom Monarch System was an illusion. The chains holding his arms and legs were very much real, a quick tug assured him of that.

[Tutorial quest received!

Name: Meditate on Frost

Description: Meditate on the nature of Frost, and accustom yourself to your new affinity.]

Lokus just stared at the screen for several minutes, truly doubting whether or not he had gone insane.

A scream somewhere in the prison disrupted his thoughts.

“No! Please, no! Stop it, stop stopstopstop! AHHHHHH!”

A chill went down Lokus’ spine, but it wasn’t because of the cold, damp air of his cell.

As the sounds of violent thuds of stone on flesh and the rattling of chains bounced off the walls, Lokus swallowed a mouthful of saliva and glanced at the screen floating at the edge of his vision.

Did it matter if this was a hallucination or not? What did he have to lose?

Taking a deep breath of the musty prison air, Lokus got as comfortable as he could and sent his senses inward.

It didn’t take him long to find that orb within his spine. It felt almost illusory, as if it wasn’t even there, and from what he could tell, it wasn’t. It was more like a tear in space, a portal to another place beyond this realm.

And within this place was that energy.

Lokus took control of it with a thought, surprised at how easy it was. After he had tapped into it during the Coronation, it had become an instinctual thing that came to him as easily as breathing.

He didn’t pause once he drew out some of this energy. The air around Lokus grew frigid, his breath coming out of his mouth like billowing fog.

His eyelids drooped as he immersed himself in the feeling, forgetting the shackles chaffing his wrists, the frantic, pained screams of the man in another cell, the bleakness of his future, everything.

His only thoughts were of the power he now wielded.

[Quest “Meditate on Frost” complete!

Reward: Freezing Aura (Frost Edict)]

A short description of this new ability appeared before Lokus, and his eyes narrowed as an idea came to mind.

Freezing Aura was nothing special, it just radiated cold around him better than he was doing now. But if he used it properly…

Clenching his fists, he felt his skin press up against the cold metal of his shackles and used this new ability. Cold wafted off of him in waves, chilling his bindings as he pulled against them with all his might.

Just when he felt the chains start to give way, and the iron begin to crack, the creaking of rusty iron scraping against the stone floor reached his ears and a familiar, armored man walked in.

He glanced at Lokus’ shackles for a brief moment before gesturing with a gauntleted hand.

The shackles clanked to the ground, freeing Lokus, and the man strode forward, snatching him by the arm and dragging him out of the cell despite his struggles. The stone floor scraped against Lokus’ knees, tearing his already damaged pants further and leaving a trail of blood behind him.

In a few hours, that blood would be the only trace of him left in this world.