CHAPTER 1: HOME AND THE LAST MOSTLY NORMAL DAY
Jon and his family were outcasts in his magical world. In a society where everyone longed for essences—mystical substances that granted users magical powers—Jon’s family stood apart. They worshipped the Void, a belief so rare that, as far as Jon knew, they were the only ones on the planet to do so. Some even claimed that the Goddess of Knowledge had decreed the Void did not exist. However, the main reason for their ostracization was their enigmatic lifestyle.
The family lived in the city but didn’t work. They owned land and allowed others to work it, demanding only a tenth of the produce in return, whether from fields or mines. Any essences or magical items discovered were freely given to the finders. This unusual approach—benevolent yet detached—made them an object of suspicion and gossip.
Due to his family’s isolationism, Jon also lived a solitary life. He occasionally sneaked out to the city bar, where he managed to forge a few friendships despite his family’s reputation. While most villagers avoided contact with the strange Void-worshippers, Jon’s three friends accepted him, even if reluctantly.
First, there was Karl, an aspiring essence user awaiting the day his body would be able to absorb essences. Then there was Lungar, a drunken lunatic who wasn’t very bright but had a knack for spouting ideas so absurd they were often entertaining. Finally, Fiona, a talented blacksmith blocked from advancing her craft by the influence of the city’s wealthier families.
One night, Jon snuck out again, carrying a few spirit coins from his family’s vault. As he entered the bar, the crowd parted in a wave of unease, creating a path for him as if he were a harbinger of something ominous.
“Unremarkable entrance, Jon,” Lungar greeted with a grin. Fiona sat nearby, holding a black sword with a faint purple glow emanating from it. Jon took a seat next to her, greeting her with an elaborate handshake that consisted of an absurd number of unnecessary movements.
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“What is that sword? It looks maleficent,” Jon asked, eyeing the blade.
“It’s a growth item,” Fiona explained.
“What in the many gods’ names is a growth item?” Lungar interrupted, his curiosity momentarily overriding his drunken stupor.
“A growth item ranks up with its user,” Fiona replied. “It’s a weapon an adventurer can use for their entire life. I’m planning to sell it in Badir. Since I don’t have a trader’s license, I’ll have to use the black market.”
“The black market? Are you insane? What if someone exploits or kidnaps you?” Jon exclaimed.
“I’ll take the risk. I don’t think anyone would want to kidnap me,” Fiona replied, dismissing his concern.
“You can be sure they would,” Lungar interjected, slurring slightly. “People are weird like that.”
Fiona sighed. “If I can sell this sword for what it’s worth, I’ll finally be able to buy some essences. It’s worth the risk.”
“You can’t argue with that,” Jon admitted.
“Where’s Karl?” Jon asked.
“He’s at home picking out his magic stuff with some important guest who’s staying with his family,” Lungar answered.
A few minutes later, Karl arrived at the bar, his entrance far less dramatic than Jon’s. As he sat down, the group immediately peppered him with questions about his upcoming rank-up.
“What essences are you picking?” Jon asked.
“Ice, Might, and Wind,” Karl replied. “Together, they’ll create the Blizzard Confluence Essence.”
“What’s a confluence essence?” Jon asked.
“It’s what happens when someone takes three essences. It combines aspects of all of them into a unique power,” Karl explained.
“So, what will it do?” Fiona asked, intrigued.
“It’ll focus on close combat,” Karl said. “With my human racial gift that boosts affinity for special attacks, it’ll let me unleash heavy, mana-intensive strikes infused with cold”
Before the conversation could continue, a booming voice rang out. “JON!” The crowd fell silent as a towering man with dull, yet somehow menacing eyes strode toward the group.
“Oh no,” Lungar muttered. “I guess this is goodbye, Jon. Try not to get too wrapped up in that Void stuff.”
“Lungar!” Fiona hissed, elbowing him. “Not the time or place.”
Jon’s father loomed over him, his presence suffocating. The night that began with whispers of adventure was about to end with a confrontation Jon wasn’t ready for.