Rage.
Rage that burned so strong, hot enough to melt even steel.
It was during a snowy day, on a desolate and shabby forest road that Artour Altaveli, a traveling merchant by trade, encountered the girl. The kid was starving thin: had sunken cheeks, bony arms, and pale malnourished skin. Not to mention, she was poorly equipped against the cold, for her clothes were thin and tattered.
She was, by Artour’s definition, already dead.
Yet, against all odds, her stare was alive, burning—with rage.
Despite the cold weather, a trail of sweat coursed down his jaw. As if he could feel the heat from steps away.
Someone had wronged her badly, he surmised.
Curious, he began, ‘What’s your name, girl?’
The girl parted her dry lips.
***
Latla
Chapter 1
The Burning Girl
***
Eight years later…
‘Latla,’ she answered. ‘Latla Altaveli.’
No longer was she a starving thin girl, but a healthy slim young lady. Her hair was tied into a braided crown, and her clothes: brown shoulder cape, white shirt under, gray skirt, and black stocking, were all made of fine fabrics, the same as that of the wealthy. An appearance that earned her stares.
‘She a noble?’ whispered someone.
‘Probably,’ whispered another.
Here, inside the mage’s guild, where others wore simple and disposable casual outfits, her noble-like appearance stuck out like a sore thumb. Which was in her favor because she wanted to stand out for this.
The flashier the better, she thought to herself.
‘… Alright, Miss Altaveli,’ the receptionist lady said, ‘to become a mage associated with the Shadow Wolf guild, you’ll first need to have your mana quantity assessed. Please, place your hand on the crystal ball and let the tool assess you.’
Atop the desk was a transparent crystal ball resting on a small custom pillow. It was the standard magic tool to measure the amount of mana—magic stamina—that a person could possess. Words couldn’t do justice to describe how much Latla hated the tool. Looking at it, a thought crossed through her mind reflexively:
I want to shatter it to pieces.
With great control, however, she contained her destructive impulse, and complied with the receptionist’s instruction. She placed her hand on the crystal ball and—nothing happened.
‘Huh?’ the receptionist remarked. She fixed her glasses and inspected the crystal ball. Touched the crystal ball herself, and the tool shone an almost unnoticeable dim white glow. ‘My mana is too little to tell for sure whether this is broken… Please hold on for a minute, Miss Altaveli.’ She then ran off.
‘Did you see that?’ said a whisper. ‘The thing didn’t shine at all!’
‘Ha! I must’ve broken it yesterday,’ said another whisper.
‘In your dreams…’
‘What else are you implying mate? That she doesn’t have even the tiniest bit of mana? That’s impossible!’
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The mages’ reactions inside the guild were so far according to Latla’s expectations. After all, by the norm, everyone should possess themselves some amount of mana, even as little as might be. Thus, when the crystal ball didn’t shine at all, it being broken was the likeliest explanation.
… I’ll try finding a way to actually break it later.
The receptionist soon returned, leading a robed man along. He carried with him a wooden staff that was taller than him, a traditional mage. His reluctant gait and grumpy groan suggested annoyance.
‘Please?’ The receptionist presented the crystal ball to him.
‘… Only because I made this,’ he grunted.
He placed his hand on the crystal ball. The measuring tool shone a bright light, like that of a lantern’s light.
‘Huh?’ the receptionist was baffled.
It’s not broken. Not yet.
‘… Miss Altaveli, would you please try again?’
Latla complied. She placed her hand on the crystal ball and—nothing happened.
‘I don’t get it...’
‘What’s not to get?’ interjected the robed man, voice raised. He pointed at Latla. ‘This girl here doesn’t have any mana to her name! That’s all there is to it! You want to be a mage despite not having mana? What a disgrace!’
Latla twitched.
Nowadays, the term “mage” had become more varied. The word used to be exclusive to describe traditional mages but was now used to describe anyone who could use magic. Latla might not possess any amount of mana, but she could still use magic.
She reached for her leather waist bag and took out a ring. A magic tool: mana storage. Using the mana contained in that tool, someone without innate mana like her could use magic. She showed it to him.
‘I’m really good at using this.’
‘Bah! That’s just a worthless scrap of junk!’
His words touched a nerve.
‘Miss Altaveli…’ the receptionist mediated. ‘I am sorry to say, but the Shadow Wolf guild has set a minimum mana amount requirement to join. Therefore, you could not become a mage—’
That was the last straw.
Disgrace? Worthless? Can’t become a mage?
‘And who decided that?’ Latla retorted with a glare. A glare so fierce it unnerved those who stared.
***
Eight years before…
That fierce glare… Astounding.
Artour and Latla sat around a heated campfire. The traveling merchant had set up the blazing fire and cooked a steaming porridge, all to warm up the freezing girl.
Despite the starving appearance, she had enough control over herself to not gobble the bowl of porridge he had given her. Slowly, with a spoon and behaved manner, she took a mouthful. Then, after some chews, she swallowed.
… With that etiquette, she’s certainly not of low birth, Artour thought. Which begged the question:
‘How did you end up like this?’
‘… I was disowned,’ Latla answered. She took another mouthful of porridge, chewed, and swallowed. He wanted to know more, and she noticed. Thus, continued, ‘They called me a disgrace. Said that I’m worthless. All because I couldn’t become a mage. It’s not my fault I was born without any mana.’
‘Is that so…’ Artour remarked.
He stared toward the dancing flame of the campfire. Its blaze, he observed, couldn’t compare to the one that was burning inside the little girl.
‘So, what will you do? With all that rage?’
‘I…’
***
Present.
‘I won’t let such insignificant standard define me. I’ll prove them wrong by becoming the greatest mage in all of existence. First,’ Latla pointed at the robed man, the traditional mage who wielded a staff, ‘I’ll need to give you a beating with this “worthless scrap of junk”.’
‘Looks like someone needs to teach this girl a lesson about reality.’
‘Wai—’
The man shoved the receptionist aside. He stepped forward and began chanting magical incantations whilst weaving his staff. Finally, he stilled the staff. ‘Fireball.’
A large blazing sphere of fire surged at the end of his staff, floating in midair. All he had to do now was to fling it.
‘Take cover!!’ shouted someone. The others inside the guild flipped tables sideways and hid behind it.
‘You can’t unleash that here!’ shouted the receptionist.
Latla, in response, wore her ring, the mana storage tool. To which, the moment she tapped the mana within, the ring shattered into pieces.
‘!’ The robed man’s eyes widened. He knew what that implied.
Overtap, that was a technique that Latla was using. By breaking the vessel of the mana storage, she could utilize all the mana that was stored within to its fullest.
Latla made a finger gun and pointed the gesture forward. Without any chanting, she casted, ‘Fireball.’
Both fireballs that had been conjured by each side were of the same size. While the traditional mage’s was more violent; swirling with erratic movements, Latla’s was more orderly; spinning in a spiral motion.
The mage flung his, and Latla shot hers.
Two fireballs clashed and roared, enveloping the interior of the guild with bright flames.
Once the blinding brightness had dimmed and the flames had calmed, the mages who hid behind tables peeked out to see the result of the clash. One person remained standing, unharmed. None other than the young lady who had no mana to her name.
‘She just beat Kalak,’ uttered one of them.
‘Isn’t he an A-rank mage?’
‘She makes it look effortless.’
Latla stared at the result of her fireball: a traditional mage laying unconscious on the ground, and a crystal ball that had been shattered to pieces from the impact. Right on target, she thought.
She then noticed that many stares were on her.
‘If no guild is willing to accept me,’ she declared, ‘then I’ll create my own.’ The more difficult my path is, the more indisputable my achievement will be when I reach it. ‘I’ll rise to the top from nothing and become the greatest mage in all of existence!’
Thus, her journey began!!