(Nathan)

Dorian teleported them as close to the stronghold as he could while still avoiding the rock wall. Neither of them wanted to revisit the scene of the crime. It was still a thirty-minute walk.

For common rank, Dorian’s teleport was an excellent ability. It started out powerful, but came with drawbacks, balancing it out. According to what Dorian had shared, it was a group teleport with a short cooldown. It used line of sight, and the group would appear on the closest natural stone outcropping that could fit everyone. As Dorian ranked up, the ability would only improve.

The brothers returned to Nightshade, where Nathan now had four glyphs at his disposal: Fire, Light, and two Life glyphs. Although the Arcane orb was valuable, he had other plans for it.

Light glyphs worked as super expensive torches, with just one setting, blinding, that easily lit up medium-sized spaces—so long as you didn’t look directly at it. The dark metal band was hard to notice until it was in your hands, but unlike the Fire glyph, it gave off no heat.

Nathan used his glyphs in the backfield, between the crafting studios and the armory, nearly opposite Judge Urvana’s property line. Dorian’s grin hinted at his excitement, as he couldn’t stand still.

He stared at the three glyphs Nathan held in his hand. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

Nathan shook out his fingers; even he had to admit he was excited. Yet the knot in his stomach came from the lingering dread of unlocking another Undeath ability, something he tried his best to ignore.

‘If it’s an ability that can help people, it shouldn’t matter where it comes from,’ he thought, reasoning his way through the discomfort. He took a deep breath and glanced up at his brother with a nod. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Dorian flashed him a thumbs-up, then yelped, “Ouch!” as he dropped the Fire glyph. He shook out his singed fingers with a reflexive flick before sucking on them. “Use that one first,” he mumbled through a mouth full of fingers, pointing to the Fire glyph with his free hand.

Nathan sighed as another patch of grass caught fire. Dorian promptly stomped it out before it could spread. The groundskeeper wouldn’t be happy with them after he discovered all the missing patches of grass.

Nathan shook his head, eager to get more mending abilities. “It’s not going anywhere. I’m starting with the Life glyphs.”

Dorian finished putting out the flames. “That’s fine. I think it’s run out of things to burn for now.” His head snapped up. “Dirt can’t catch fire, right?”

Nathan took out the first of the beating masses, his fingers wrapped around the dark metal band. A heartbeat, in tune with his own, pulsed in his hand. “It’s not alive,” he said. “It’s just a magical object.”

He tried to convince himself that it wasn’t actually alive, but out of all the glyph types, Life might’ve been. He drew a deep breath and activated the glyph. Its rhythm ceased, and it shattered. A pang of remorse gripped him; regardless of the debate—it wasn’t alive anymore.

[Prismatic orb]: Prismatic framework initializing.

“Not Undeath,” he whispered gratefully as the tension in his body eased.

[Prismatic orb]: Manifesting new ability with Life influence.

[Prismatic orb]: New ability [Respiteful Regeneration] unlocked.

An aura surrounds you and your allies, regenerating mana and speeding up offensive cooldowns or regenerating health and speeding up defensive cooldowns, depending on which is lower. All cooldowns speed up if health and mana are full or balanced.

[Prismatic orb]: Two open ability slots remaining.

“Well?” Dorian asked impatiently. “What did you unlock?”

Nathan turned to face his brother and grinned. “I’ve got my first aura ability.”

Dorian looked over both shoulders, then held out his hands, flipping them back and forth. “I don’t feel any different. Is it a defensive one?”

Nathan nodded. “Yes. Use an attack that burns lots of mana.”

The unstoppable elf didn’t need to be told twice to do something reckless. He dashed off toward a nearby field, his speed unsettling for someone his size. Nathan often forgot his brother was common rank, which meant even his speed was on another level. Just before reaching the edge of the field, Dorian leaped into the air, summoning a shimmering black sickle in his hand before landing and slicing through one of the gigantic gourds.

Vegetables were obviously no match for even mundane people, but Nathan had asked him to use a powerful attack that consumed a lot of mana. The gourd lay in two halves, wispy black tendrils of smoke rising and quickly chasing after Dorian, who inhaled them with a deep breath.

Nathan didn’t know what ability that was. His brother might be mayhem incarnate, but he was also smart, only sharing information about his abilities when appropriate. It wasn’t a matter of trust—he simply hadn’t had reason to tell or show Nathan before.

To Dorian, this was a bonding experience that would bring them closer together. He was genuinely excited to see his brother grow as an adventurer. Jogging back, he held out his hands, trying to sense the difference.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Dorian squinted at him. “Is that… mana regeneration?”

Nathan gave him a smile. “Mhmm.”

“And…” Dorian tilted his head, as if trying to hear the answer. “My cooldown seems quicker.”

Nathan nodded. “Correct. And it also restores health, depending on which you need more.”

“It’s not a lot.” Dorian flexed a hand. “But it affects the entire team.” He slapped Nathan on the shoulder. “This is an amazing ability, brother. The longer the fight, the more it’ll make a difference.”

Nathan wiped a tear from the corner of his eye with a knuckle—he finally had an ability that could work in synergy with Metabolize. All he could do was nod to his brother in agreement.

“Now crack another one.” Dorian stepped back to give him some room.

Still overjoyed from his last ability, he reached into his pocket, pulled out his other Life glyph, activating it immediately. This time, he didn’t allow himself to get attached—the rush from the last ability only fed his anticipation for the next, making him forget any worry about unlocking the wrong one.

[Range orb]: Range framework initializing.

“Excellent.”

[Range orb]: Manifesting new ability with Life influence.

[Range orb]: New ability [Life Shield] unlocked.

A defensive shield to cast on your allies. It regenerates health while active and shields against damage.

[Range orb]: One open ability slot remaining.

Joyful tears continued to gather; his blinks unable to keep pace with the well of emotions bursting from within.

Dorian noticed his tears. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes.” Nathan wiped them away. “More than alright.”

He held up his hand toward Dorian and cast Life Shield. A golden shell flashed over his brother before fading into transparency. Dorian looked down at himself, twisting at his waist, turning out his foot to check underneath for any hidden effects.

It was comically cute, though Nathan wouldn’t dare say so. A wave of nostalgia washed over him; it’d been decades since he last felt this way. For a moment, he glimpsed his younger brother from before the Might orb changed him—a small, timid elf who needed his big brother to go everywhere and do everything with him.

Dorian had been kinder before the orbs changed him, and that was exactly what Nathan feared. If Might and Presence had transformed a kind, shy boy into a bold, unstoppable force who had little use for consequences. What would Undeath do to him?

Dorian gave up. “I can’t tell what it does. It just feels like a warm hug.”

“It’ll absorb damage with minimal overflow to your health,” Nathan said, unable to stop smiling as he added, “And it regenerates health while the shield lasts.”

Dorian ran up and clapped his arms around his older brother. “You finally got a heal.”

“I finally got a heal!” Nathan exclaimed with muffled excitement.

Dorian released him. “Teams will have to beat each other off to get you to join them.” He winced, frowning at his poor word choice.

Nathan glanced sideways, narrowing his eyes at him, his mouth opening and then shutting as he struggled for a response.

“That’s… not what I meant,” Dorian corrected himself. “You’re going to kick, uh, mend some major ass, brother.” He nodded and grinned—close enough.

“Thanks Dorian. Two down, two more to go.” Nathan eyed the Fire glyph lying on the ground. He bent down to pick it up.

Dorian had to be the one to bring it back; his increased toughness from common rank let him hold it long enough to return with it. Nathan only needed a moment to activate the glyph—just enough to grab it and squeeze. The heat gave out instantly, just like the heartbeats before.

[Prismatic orb]: Prismatic framework initializing.

[Prismatic orb]: Manifesting new ability with Fire influence.

[Prismatic orb]: New ability [Flame Shell] unlocked.

A defensive shield for you or your allies. It absorbs and reflects damage. The flame continues to grow in strength and duration with each attack against it.

[Prismatic orb]: One open ability slot remaining.

Nathan wasn’t sure what to think of this one. Abilities with a singular focus were usually much more potent than those that tried to do too many things, and Flame Shell was a mix of defense and offense. Also, his opponent would have to be overconfident or an idiot to keep hitting a shield that got stronger with each strike.

He shrugged, thinking, ‘Then again, mundane animals and most common-ranked monsters aren’t very smart.’ Besides, he had no intention of fighting other people.

He could see the question written on Dorian’s face. “It’s another shield,” he said, aiming his hand at Dorian and casting Flame Shell this time.

Dorian flinched and slapped at himself before realizing the rainbow-hued fire was his brother’s new shield, not spontaneous combustion. The flames were visible but mostly transparent—and beautiful to look at.

Dorian held out his hand, flipping it back and forth as the flames danced through their colors. “Does it damage the things I hit?”

Nathan shook his head. “No, the opposite. It damages things that hit you.”

Dorian pouted thoughtfully and said, “Hmm. That’s still pretty good.”

Now, only the Light glyph remained. Nathan couldn’t look directly at it—it was far too bright. Instead, he simply activated it. The light died, and the glyph shattered into pieces. The remains fell to the ground, quickly dissipating back into magical essence and reintegrating into the cosmos, just like all used glyphs did.

[Lawful orb]: Lawful framework initializing.

[Lawful orb]: Manifesting new ability with Light influence.

[Lawful orb]: New ability [Blinding Bolt] unlocked.

A ranged attack with a proximity trigger that flashes to blind the target just before impact. If the attack missed but the proximity trigger activated, the target will still get blinded.

[Lawful orb]: One open ability slot remaining.

Nathan sighed. It was another ranged attack, but at least it had some utility—and not everyone was immune to being blinded like Dorian.

Dorian slammed a fist into the palm of his other hand. “We should fight now.” He cracked his knuckles. “Don’t tell me any more about your abilities. I want you to show them to me.” He flashed the prismatic elf a devious grin.

Nathan held up his hands, shaking his head. “I don’t want to fight you.”

Dorian’s shoulders slumped. “Come on,” he pleaded. “I’m stuck here for at least fourteen days.” He jutted out his lower lip and looked up from under his brow, blinking those impossibly large eyes at him.

Nathan raised a finger, reminding himself just as much as his brother. “That was your decision.”

Dorian flexed his arm. “This body was made for two things. Fighting, and… you know.” His Presence orb made it difficult to deny him anything. It was one reason he grew so accustomed to getting his way all the time.

“You’re common-ranked and I’m not. This won’t end well,” Nathan said flatly, placing his hands on his hips.

“Don’t worry.” Dorian waved a hand dismissively. “There’s no way you’d actually hurt me.”

“That’s… not what concerns me.” Nathan frowned. “I don’t want to be your punching bag.”

“I’ll go easy on you, I promise.”

[Lawful orb]: Lie detected.

Nathan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Dorian, you know I can tell when you’re lying, right?”