“Mom Dad, I’m nine, I finally got a Skill!” I hammer on their bedroom door. Consideration and subtlety be damned.

I got reprimanded more times than I’d like to admit for just bursting into their room so even now that’s something I’d like to avoid. No bad mood today.

The amount of noise and movement coming from the room is still minimal, they’re just waking up, but my fists are already throbbing from my assault on the door. Since they take their sweet time I get down to looking through things myself.

Might: 7

Intelligence: 11

Mana: 11

Speed: 11

Focus: 12(+0)

Willpower: 12

Endurance: 8

Dexterity: 10

Fortitude: 8

I don’t remember exactly what each stat does because they’re easy to mix up but the first column should be physical attributes, the second is mental and the third is magical.

My immediate conclusion just by looking at the numbers is simple. “Weak and fragile…” I mutter. “That’s such horseshit!” I curse the dumb numbers.

“Language!” Comes Dad’s voice from the room, much more awake than I expected.

Yeah, yeah… How can I be weak when I do all those exercises and have both my Endurance and Fortitude below average? I mean, at least I’m smart according to the numbers but I already knew that…

“How does this even make sense? And that plus zero… is that Savant?” My rant is finally interrupted as the door swings open.

I get scooped up by two pairs of arms before I can even react only to disappear between two bodies much bigger and stronger than mine. As I’m crushed in the combined hug my earlier decision to keep quiet about the terrible headache solidifies.

No bad mood today, they don’t need to know. I mean it was bad but it’s already over and the new Skill makes the previous agony absolutely worth it. I’m not saying I’d do it again, because I’d rather not, but the Skill is really good. I think, after all, I have little to no reference. It's my only Skill and it sounds good to me.

“Happy birthday Eli.” My parents say in chorus.

I giggle in their arms, looking forward to this day like none other in my entire life. This is my day and it’s gonna be perfect.

“Listen, listen. I finally got my attributes. I even have a Skill.” I start gushing about my Status and my parents listen with subtle smiles and gleaming eyes.

As I start listing off the numbers in my Journey Guide I’m carried into the kitchen where Mom prepares tea on the heating stone while Dad sits down with me and listens. Their conclusion is the same as mine regarding my attributes but there’s nothing we can do about them. They are in a way the gauge of my body’s potential, meaning even if I went down the path of a warrior I would only be mediocre at best.

Dad explained that it’s only to be expected since my other numbers are more outstanding and the sum of every attribute can’t be more than… you guessed it, ninety. I still don’t like how something like this is determined without my consent.

Then the conversation sidetracked to my starter Class and oh boy, those faces…

“... and basically it’s because I was born under some Prison Vomit.” Their eyebrows shot up so I give a bit more details. “You know, the red thing in the sky nine years ago?”

“By the Gods,” Mom claws at her cheeks. “Crimson Comet, Eli…”

“Yeah, that, whatever.” Small mistake, who cares? “So I get six Free Points every level.”

“That’s…” Dad taps on the table while I sip my tea with a smug face.

Lots of honey, just the way I like it.

“That’s twice what mine gave.” Mom finishes the sentence as Dad’s pause draws out too long. “It’s incredible, I never heard anything about special children born under the comet from the elders.”

“Me neither,” Dad nods. “To be fair I never actually believed any of those tales my father used to tell me before seeing the red scourge with my own eyes.”

“Why is it good? And why Free Points?” I ask, already beaming as the praises rain down.

“Free points because it allows you to specialize towards whatever you want,” Makes sense. “and besides the rule of the more the merrier better Classes have stat requirements so-”

“I can get the better stuff earlier.” I finish the sentence as it all comes together.

“As you said, it’s incredibly good.” Dad strokes my head.

More!

“Oh yeah? Listen to this then. I also got a very special Skill for magic called…” I try uttering the Skills name when something tightens around my neck.

Something cold and oppressive, preventing me from even speaking a letter of the description let alone the knowledge it filled my head with.

“I can’t,” I whisper and the words flow without any issue.

The restriction on Savant, it has to be. I wonder what penalties there’d be if I kept pressing that boundary after all the description warns about actually talking about it and not trying to…

Let’s just skip this one.

***

My parents just listen, smiling at me lovingly as I tell them all that happened in my sleep. They are surprised at first, enthusiastic second, and for some reason worried towards the end. Maybe because their tea got cold while my mouth couldn’t stop talking.

“Eli, do you remember what I said about being special?” Asks Mom after some time.

Well, I’m as special as they get and I have been called many things in my life, not all of them nice things. I still know what she implies of course.

“Being special is dangerous.” I recite her teaching, my mood souring already. “Let me guess, I have to keep this a secret just like the Celestial part?” I cut to the chase to return to happier water as soon as possible.

“Just for a short while,” She tries to console me. “everything that happened and even the Skill you can’t talk about, all of that is a part of you and I want you to live your life to its fullest but also…”

“Caution probably saved your mother’s life many more times than I’d like to imagine, Eli.” Dad joins in against me. “Just a little patience is all we ask for, okay?”

“Not even the gang?” I really wanted to brag.

“Not even the gang.” Dad shakes his head with complete seriousness.

I pout while contemplating going behind their back and telling the others about my new status anyway. I’m the youngest of us five so I had to sit through all their goading and ambitions while waiting for my turn and now I’m told to skip that turn? Nuh-uh.

“Don’t be too upset,” I get head pats again. “there’s more to this day than the Journey Guide, after all, it’s your-”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“Birthday!” I finish the sentence.

It did actually slip from my mind. Well, one is a once-in-a-lifetime event and the other happens every single year.

“Just a second." Mom takes off to her famous treasure chest, which got looted just a year ago and should be pretty empty right now.

Sadly ever since the robbery incident, she locks said chest, barring even her own daughter from exploring it. I did manage to take a peek inside when I was around five and the amount of swords and shiny objects there really piqued my interest but what she does with it really blows my mind. After a knock and curses, Mom disappears in the chest all the way to her waist in what should be a box about a forearm’s deep as far as I can remember.

Secret compartment, of course, that’s why she wasn’t too worried about the stolen stuff.

“Here it is.” She hurries back, with something behind her back. “Tada!”

She presents a worn bronzish pocket round metal thing.

“Wow?” I’m a little clueless here. “What is it?”

“Youngsters these days.” She shakes her head feigning disappointment. ”It's a pocket watch.” She pops it open. “My father gave it to me when I left home, to and I quote Keep your allies close and your enemies even closer. Time is both. You’ll get it as you grow up.” She spreads her arms and shrugs.

I take the watch and inspect it closer. The outside is vaguely adorned, although most of it is worn off. The inside however still looks pristine. The three hands of the clock - thankfully I made the effort to learn how a clock works - perform their round dance meticulously, to the perpetual ticking of its inner working.

“I like it. Time is an ally and the greatest enemy, huh?” I keep staring at the watch before realizing that I missed something.

“Thanks, mom,” I give my mightiest of hugs. “I’ll treasure it.”

She knows I’m happy with it and I know she’s just as happy that I like it for what it is. Not something overly useful, or crazy expensive. It has its own value, emotional value.

“Khm.” Dad clears his throat, likely antsy waiting for his turn. “From me, something similar. An heirloom passed down from parent to child in my family.” Dad pulls out a bracelet made of… wood?

Some twigs twisting together in a strange yet beautiful pattern. It’s a bit too big for me, more like a necklace honestly so maybe it's for when I get older?

“My father gave me this for my very own Initiation, as did his own father before.” He caresses the mundane-looking object. “Your hand, please.”

I reach out my right hand.

I guess he wants to make it even more sentimental by sliding it on. I’m not against it, quite the opposite really. I like my parents’ antics, even the dumbest ones.

As the wooden ring slides over my wrist it all of a sudden shines dimly and creaks.

I try to pull my arm away, yet Dad holds it still, nodding at me with a calm demeanor.

“I had the same reaction.” He smiles.

The wood slowly contracts and shrinks until the bracelet fits perfectly on my arm. Not too snug, not too wobbly, just perfect.

“As you can see it's somewhat magical, weirdly without any crystal in it to supply the mana. My grandfather told me it's from none other than Wyrel.” He says like it's supposed to mean something to me.

I tilt my head, signaling the necessity of further explanation.

“The World Tree darling, creator of all elves.”

I've heard about that, or her, before. A tree reaching out to the stars and one of the beings closest to the Gods.

“Okay, damn.” I’m much more impressed now.

“What the actual fuck Lucious!?!” Mom also sounds… angrily impressed. “You had THAT in our house all along? It’s from the World Tree, THE World Tree. Do you even know-”

“I know dear, and fear not, other than this little charade it behaves like ordinary wood.” He tries to calm the storm called Mom. “Besides being nigh unbreakable.” He adds quietly.

Not quietly enough.

The quarrel is already on, as Mom is, according to my experience, pissed because Dad's present is a little cooler. I just engross myself in my new gift. It really does look like some branches from any normal tree twisted together, and it even feels like it.

“How much would this sell for?” My thoughts escape my mouth.

“Please don’t.” Dad looks frightened. “It’s likely worth more than our house, much more. Could you just.. accept it as something to remind you of me, please?” He pleads.

“I’m just kidding.” I really was. “Thanks for the gift Dad, I’ll cherish it.” OR WAS I?

After the pleasantries and a fine breakfast, I finally think it’s time to get down to business. “Okay, let’s fill those Skill slots!”

“Not that fast young lady, we have to visit a certain place first.” Dad shakes his finger. “It won’t take long.”

Oh oh oh, are we going to the bakery for some cookies, or the market, or maybe some jewelry?

“Fine, let’s go then.” I agree without complaint.

***

After getting dressed a bit nicer than usual we, the whole family, leave towards the center of Meliorport where the market square is, just as I hoped. For all three of us to go out and do something together… it happens maybe once a week because of the work schedules but I sure am happy things turned out like this.

Mom to my left and Dad to my right, holding my hands and guiding me because even though my eyes are open my mind is somewhere else.

“How do these stats work again?” I casually drop the topic, hoping to get an explanation without the chiding.

“Elyssia, Gods above help me, how many more times do we have to go through this? Every two years you ask this question, this same, exact question. Never remembering a single thing we said.” Mom takes a deep breath and points a finger at me threateningly. “If you don’t pay attention this time, you’ll have to beg us to explain it again.”

“Promise.” Probably the emptiest promise I ever made.

And so the lecture starts.

“I’m gonna start by saying that the equal attributes don’t mean equal performance. Your ten Might would never be as strong as an adult's because your body is just simply smaller and weaker.” Very nice way of putting it Mom, thanks. “An orc is stronger and resilient as fuck but they are generally terrible at controlling magic. People like us on the other hand,” I think she means Celestials. “we wield mana with proficiency like no one else and thus we’re the superior race.” Oh, don’t start this debate, please… “This doesn’t mean you can’t improve your strength through exercise or your proficiency over mana through frequent use. Every race has its speciality and if you meet something big out in the world then expect it to be pretty damn strong.”

Wow, without your warning, I would’ve never thought of that, thanks Mom. I won't say that out loud because I’m trying to stay in her good graces but damn.

“To start off, the three columns represent the body, mind, and soul, each with their own stats and own tricks and secrets.” Mom starts off and I’m already beginning to hate the number three.

"The three physical stats are the most straightforward. Might makes you stronger, Speed makes your body and reactions faster while Endurance makes you more resilient against physical attacks. It also affects your stamina a bit but we have nothing concrete or numerical on that front.”

Right, I already knew these. My Speed is pretty okay, thanks to some of that elven blood in me if I had to guess. It’s not like I ever planned on becoming a walking fortress or a hammer-wielding maniac but that doesn’t make it any less infuriating.

“The mental attributes don’t necessarily make you smarter as much as they assist in using the intellect you already possess. Intelligence despite its name does not make you any smarter, instead it increases the speed at which you can process information ever so slightly. Besides defining the amount of mana you can wield at any given moment, of course.” Uhum… sounds a bit more important than the afterthought you made it to be. “Focus means concentration, control, both range and detail when wielding mana. A very handy stat most people overlook in favor of output. Lastly, Dexterity. It defines the coordination between body and will, an often-overlooked aspect of the body that is most crucial for anyone like your father or a jeweler.”

Okay, I’m still following, although some of those things sounded a bit more magical than mental to me. Like, Focus helps you concentrate, yes, but everything else about it just screams magic.

“The last three are the magical attributes.” Mom continues, unaware of my inner complaints. “Mana is self-explanatory, it’s the size of your mana vessel.” Oh yeah, that thing. It’s like the other half of your being, like two sides of a coin. “Willpower… this one is interesting.” I bet. “For some reason, mana is drawn to the soul of the living like moths to the flame, and Willpower makes that light brighter thus increasing mana regeneration. Other than that, some Skills can act on your mind and emotions, mostly social ones, and Willpower helps fend off those foreign influences.”

[Your Class [Crimson's Blessed] has reached lvl 2, +6 Free Points.]

[The general Skill [Savant] has reached lvl 2.]

Guh? What do you mean level up, I haven’t even done anything. And this isn't even that new, they explained it before I just... needed a reminder. You mean to tell me I… Okay, I guess the part about Willpower was pretty interesting and made me ponder about how that all applies to Savant. Good to know how it improves.

“Fortitude is again an interesting attribute,” Mom keeps on talking and I’m losing interest. Thankfully this is the last one. “It’s the magical equivalent of Endurance but unlike Endurance where your skin is the boundary of protection, Fortitude affects your Cloak.”

“Cloak?” I ask back.

“Your magical presence, the mana seeping through your flesh, skin and lastly out of your body. Even when the mana vessel is full, Willpower keeps on drawing in more and more juice and so the mana overflows.” Mom explains with apparent irritation. “But you already knew this didn’t you?”

“I just misheard it.” I lie through my teeth with an innocent smile.

“Uhum…” She nods with a flat look before finishing the lecture. “Fortitude is for your Cloak what Endurance is for the body, as simple as that.”

This is in no way simple… Let’s not forget that Fortitude is another one of my weaknesses only exacerbated by my Racial Trait. Yeah, no frontal combat for me.

I’m really curious how this Cloak thingy looks, what elements it is made of, or how mana-

“We’re here, stop daydreaming.” Dad tickles the tip of my ear which is sensitive as hell. A weak point I inherited from him in its fullest.

Checking my surroundings does confirm my hunch about going to the market but I missed the exact location itself by a lot. It’s the temple.

“What are we doing here?” I ask, stopping in place until I get my explanation.

“We don’t know where the Journey Guide came from, Eli, the Gods refuse to tell us,” Dad Lifts me up just like when I was little and carries me towards the entrance. No fair. “But even then, we pray for their guidance and ask for their… Blessings.” He chews on the last words before his eyes grow distant. “Just close your eyes and address whoever you want about whatever you feel is important. Not out loud.” He adds and I do take offense to that.

In my nine years, I’ve never once been in the house of the Gods or even prayed to any of them even when I was in deep trouble. I believe in solving my own problems, although… giving this a shot won't hurt anyone.