At an ungodly hour of the morning, a lone boy can be seen bent over an extraordinarily long piece of paper that, if uncoiled, would easily be thrice as tall as he. His simple shirt and pants are ragged and torn, and his knees and elbows are covered in chalk dust and ink. The lantern by which he works is dim and the light it provides is dismal at best. In spite of this rather poor state of affairs, the boy’s expression is one of elation, and as the light goes out, he sits back and lets out a contented sigh of fulfillment and anticipation. The boy’s name is Nox, and even if the Grand Magister himself were to see the rather strange scroll he was working on, he would find it impossible to hide his shock. The reason for that is because even the most mundane line on this scroll has the solution to at least two mysteries of magic that scholars have toiled countless years to solve. Nox knows this, but he is also well aware that if he were to show his work to anyone, the sheer magnitude of his advancements would cause any mage to attempt to dispose of him in order to claim his work as their own. He also knows that at the tender age of sixteen, no one would take him seriously, and more importantly, no one would fear him. After contemplating these limitations for what seems to be the thousandth time this week alone, he sighs and prepares himself for his daily diet of torture.

Ash slams the door open, like he always does. The first day he did it, he startled me so badly that he now makes sure to incorporate it into our daily routine. He pulls me out of bed and punches me, starting my day off beautifully. Ash is my father, or at least that’s what he calls himself.  When I was ten, he “rescued” me from the slums of Treton and now I do everything for him. I cook his food, wash his clothes, work his fields, and take his beatings when I do the other three too slowly for his taste.  It wouldn’t be so bad if not for the fact that Ash takes the entirety of the money that I earn for my work to go drinking every night, and in the morning, beats me until his hangover passes. I once hit him back, and he made sure I paid for that by stabbing me in the side and leaving me out on the porch to die. I only survived because one of the other indentured servants like Ash felt pity for me and gave me a rough patch up. When I showed up back on his porch he punched me in the stomach and told me to make him dinner. The pain in my side whenever I work in the fields reminds me not to try something that stupid again.

The turning point for my torment came a month after my “rescue” and a week after the stabbing, in the form of a simple, leather bound journal. I was going for a walk in order to delay going back to the hellhole I call a home when I tripped over a rock and rolled down a very steep hill while I writhed in agony from the nearly opened stitches in my side. When my vision cleared from the pain, I realized that I had been clawing at the ground, and in the surprisingly deep hole I had made, there was the book that ended up changing my life. I was about to open it, when I suddenly noticed where the sun was, and panicking, I grabbed the book, hid it down my baggy pants, and ran back home. Ash gave me an extra beating for being late on making his dinner, but looking back, it was worth every bruise.

That night when Ash went out to spend my hard earned money, I slipped the book out from under my bed and cracked it open. I audibly gasped when I read the first words on the page.

“Archmage Aeris”

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On the continent of Sharde, there exists five known kingdoms. On the eastern side, The human kingdom of Meruth has been established. It is ruled by King Meris, who is known to be a shrewd diplomat. Directly west of Meruth lies the vast Draerith Mountain Range. They are inhabited by a cunning Elven race called the Draeth, of which very little is known. Past the Draerith is the kingdom of Thrush, home to the powerful Beastman race. Beyond that lies the Wood Elves Forest, separating Thrush from the Demonic Kingdom, known to be talented Archers and Healers. The Demonic Kingdom, known simply as The Dark Lands, has many races, almost all of which are innately talented in magic.

Throughout the lands, strength is respected by all.  Powerful adventurers have their names immortalized in legend and one of the most powerful of all was known simply as Archmage Aeris. He was one of the few to be talented enough to break through the human barrier for magical aptitude and was frequently known to be able to duel the top demonic and beastman powers to a standstill, despite their superior innate talent. One day, however, he was taken down by a coordinated sneak attack from the Demons, Beastmen, and humans, out of fear of him surpassing their top talents and forcibly creating a new kingdom. He fought the massive waves of enemy forces despite being heavily wounded, and assured a mutual destruction. It was well known that as he died, he did not utter a single complaint, despite knowing his death was inevitable, and instead grinned, telling his murderers that his entire legacy was left behind. Upon hearing news of this, the kingdoms searched every corner of their respective lands, and in a small cave in the east, his apprentice was found and tortured. Despite being driven insane by the sheer brutality of his torture, the apprentice never revealed the location of his writings, and to this day, it was considered to be lost.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

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Knowing the history of the Archmage, I was naturally ecstatic to have found this book, but when reading it, I found myself more and more impressed by the man. This book was magically enhanced to contain more pages than appeared on the outside, and it chronicled all his magical knowledge. Using this book, I taught myself magic. I knew it was useless due to my lack of noble blood, and therefore, my lack of mana capacity, but I found it much more fruitful than whining about my terrible life, and in those five years, I learned all the theory that Aeris knew about magic. However, knowing the theory and being able to use it in combat are two entirely separate matters. My lack of training and mana capacity prevented me from being able to do anything more with mana than making my finger slightly glow for a few seconds and even that exhausted me more than a full day of manual labor. Therefore, I decided to simply throw myself into creating a scroll inscribed with a spell of my own making that would condense mana from the surroundings in order to create a mana crystal which I can use to power spells. For a full year I’ve modified and rewritten the spell, and even with countless attempts, not even a miniscule crystal has been created. Today, I know I’ve finally perfected the spell, yet every time I tried, there was obviously something very important missing, yet I haven’t the faintest idea what it could be.

If it doesn’t work tonight, I’m giving up on magic. Even though I’m starting late, maybe I can still be a low ranked warrior.

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Oh shit.

What just happened?

I feel like I swam through an ocean of lava, and then ran through a forest of cacti while they rubbed against my raw skin.

Where am I?

I’m in the middle of what looks like a wasteland, with nothing but ash surrounding me.

Wait.

Ash.

Through the haze of pain, I drag myself over to the only other thing I can see. It’s a corpse, and when I see what’s left of its face, I shiver despite the blistering heat I’m feeling.

It’s Ash.

Oh, shit.

I just remembered.

He came back early.

He’s never done that before.

He saw me using the scroll, and I was too focused on the spell to notice him.

He was so angry.

He pushed me down and his mana was fed to the spell.

He must have had some noble blood in him, because it went out of control. It was only meant to use my miniscule amount of mana.

A wave of mana obliterated everything around me, and I was at the epicenter.

How am I alive?

I finally work up the courage to look down at myself, and I’m bewildered by what I see.

My body is intact. There’s not even any scarring.

Why does it hurt so much?

With every heartbeat that passes, I grow more confused.

Every time my heart beats, I feel the agony.

But… I don’t hear the blood rushing through my ears.

Then it hits me.

There’s no blood.

All around me, there is not a single drop of blood.

Ah.

I understand.

The spell worked.

I don’t have blood flowing in veins.

It’s mana.

My body is being reshaped, like a mana beast.

I grew the crystal.

…

It’s my heart.