‘Many beings possess mana but don’t need it to survive…’ -Unknown source.
I still remember the day several years ago, the Demons had invaded the kingdom. The castle walls were breached. Wails and shrieks of the dying filled the air. Demons were everywhere, I was covered in blood, my cloak was torn. Even with a Hero, it was a losing battle. I was a part of the Hero’s party, we had shared many adventures and survived tribulations together. We made our last stand in the castle courtyard as the demons flooded in a maddened berserk. The wave after wave of demons was not what I nor was it death. It was what came after the weaker demons and before death, the Demon King. Most of us didn’t survive even after my fear appeared right before my eyes. Only the strongest hero, who wielded a sword and shield, and I remained, the people we call friends either tried to run and were cut down or fought and were overwhelmed.
“So these worms are what stopped some of my best men and forced me to enter the fray,” says the Demon King as he stares us down with his horned head and crown held high. He stood there with his black armour giving off a suffocating aura, and his two-handed longsword, embedded with rubies and emeralds, pointed at our throats.
Fate hated me. As a child, I always admired the adventures that would pass through my hometown and tell their stories of glory and hardships. I trained myself the best I could to be as strong as they were in there stories. When someone comes of age they receive their Calling. Calling allows one to grow stronger and gain knowledge, beyond normal means.
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“Are ready for one final battle, friend,” the Hero beside me said.
“Always, I walk into the fire and the flames without a second thought,” I say in reply.
“You were always cheery, even after not receiving a Calling. You travelled with me, fought by my side through thick and thin, learning magic like there was no tomorrow. It has been a long eight years hasn’t it, Sanguis.”
“Yes, it has been a very long eight years, but let's finish this, Gabriel, and live many more.”
We rushed the Demon King, both of us trembling as we moved, my mana rushed through my body for the final time that day. Mana flowed throughout my body, strengthening it. I concentrated my mana into palms, producing solid short, twin blades made of mana. Eight years of travelling with Gabriel, learning mana. This is one of the many spells I know. With my remaining mana, this is the best I can do.
As I dashed forward, my blades met the Demon King’s sword, they shattered like glass and my body soon followed. As I was struck down that day and I don’t know the result of our clash with the Demon King.
I never had a strong destiny and fate weighed heavily on me, nor received my Calling. I had no real talent in anything so I learned everything the hard way, even as study parts of magic, the results came with pain far greater than the gain. I have many regrets but this is the path I walked and I will continue forward.
So let me ask you a question if you could start over from the beginning again, would you do it the same or change it? The next time I will live the way I choose, regardless of how hard it gets.
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The next living memory I had was a cold snow storm in the body of a toddler as a figure in a cloak leaves me underneath an unfamiliar roof in the dead of night. I can see only see the smile in the shadow of the cowl of the cloak.
“Grow strong Sanguis,” a young female voice as she disappears into the whirlwinds of white.