Adeline sat across from me. The conversation was now, well and truly, happening.
“My class is Apprentice.” She leaned forward ever-so slightly, interested in what I had to say now that I’d started. “It causes my skills to progress faster.. And..” I took a deep breath, slightly nervous from talking about something so personal. “I can learn more quickly from specific ‘instructors.’ You.. Kind of happened to be ‘registered’ as an instructor after that.”
Adeline took a few moments to say anything, her face going between a few different expressions. Mild awe, curiosity, and then thinking. “So you can learn things more efficiently from me now?” I nodded.
She grinned, “You have an amazing class, Sybil! There has to be some kind of downside though, right?”
My eyes shot down to the ground from embarrassment and a bit of shame. She wasn’t wrong. My class reached its limits at level 15. A relatively low level, all things considered.
Adeline began to speak up again, perhaps realizing what she said. “Err.. I’m sure it’s not that bad though! Usually class penalties are nothing major!” My head lowered again, reflexively. I raised it quickly, putting on a smile. In a clear effort to change the subject, Adeline kept speaking, “So.. Have you had any other instructors before, then?”
“Just one.” I bit the inside of my mouth. What was the best way to sum up my master? “She taught me everything I know about using magic, among other things.” I hesitated for a moment, but continued. “She also helped me awaken.”
Adeline smiled, “Oh! Did you also go into a dungeon to try and force an awakening?” I raised my eyebrows, slightly shocked. “Guess not. How did you force an awakening, then?”
“I should probably tell you the whole story…”
----------------------------------------
There were some parts that I told Adeline, and some parts that I did not. It felt as if my heart would crumple in on itself had I told her that when I first met my master, I was known as Owain Taylor. I was an unassuming, boring, barely-teenage boy, whose only notable trait was the hair which led to the other children so lovingly referring to me as “grasshead” among other things.
I first met my master, Morgan, when she visited the village I lived in on a whim. Her travels took her there, for some reason or another. She first noticed me because of my hair, and immediately began asking questions of me. I still remember her, a tall, almost scrawny black-haired woman, leaning down slightly to speak to me at face-level.
“That hair of yours, is that how it naturally looks?” After fourteen years, I was more than used to questions like that. As if by reflex, I just nodded. “Interesting.. And are you by chance of elven descent?” I was confused by the question. Normally, people spoke of fairies and fey, not elves. “I don’t think I am, no.” She grinned, “Right. So your hair color has mutated somehow, independent of your parentage.”
She seemed lost in thought for a few moments. “Are you interested in learning magic? I have reason to believe you may have an aptitude for it.” My shoulders dropped in shock. Some odd woman was offering to teach me magic, only after interrogating me about my hair. This was the sort of thing parents warned their children about.
“...I’m not a noble.” I said, rather flatly.
She lifted her head up, still smiling. “You don’t have to be a noble to learn magic.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
“What do you mean? Of course you do.” I felt some measure of annoyance, to put it lightly. I wanted nothing more than to go off on grand adventures as an awakened. Society itself began to shape around these legendary heroes in the making. But the commonfolk of this land had been specifically cursed to prevent such a thing.
The Slumbering.
Some time after the Pioneers came to be, and the awakened began to grow vastly in number, Hyperion fashioned a spell to prevent anyone affected by it from awakening. It was such a cruel curse that it could be passed down, affecting even the children of those who were recipients of it.
My parents, of course, had the curse placed on them. The very same effect was passed down to me.
As if hearing my thought process, my master retorted. “The curse? It can be dispelled, I can promise you that. I would be happy to do so, if you become my apprentice.”
To say it sounded suspicious would be putting it very lightly. Still, being a foolish teenager was the only push I needed.
“Alright, then.”
----------------------------------------
It was an odd thing to explain to my parents. I didn’t tell them that I was going to become an awakened. Instead, I informed them that I had gotten an apprenticeship with an apothecary. My mother seemed worried about this sudden development. My father was overjoyed that I had stepped into a profession.
I recall waving them goodbye, the door closing on their expressions. I never saw them again.
For a month we traveled together, riding in a wagon that she pulled along with an invisible force. Deep between towns and cities, not far off the road, we made camp. There, I would have the curse removed.
I sat cross-legged in a patch of dirt. The stars in the sky were especially clear. My master had her hand gently, but firmly placed on my forehead. “Removing the curse will cause some adverse effects, especially so because of you having it since birth. You may be ill for a few days, or perhaps a week. It will dole out the worst pain you may ever feel. But I promise you, that you will be hale and hearty in the end.”
I swallowed nervously, just nodding.
“I’m starting now, then.” I shivered as a tingling feeling gathered in my head. There was nothing but razor-sharp focus within my master’s eyes. Though I couldn’t see a single bit of what she was doing. Her hand remained on my forehead. That tingling feeling began traveling downward, like water rushing through my throat and down into my ribcage. Intense cold erupted all throughout my body, filling every crack and crevice of my innards. Only then was it tempered by raging heat, burning so brightly that my insides felt like they were cooking. I clenched my teeth together, trying my very hardest not to gasp. It felt as if I were burning alive and freezing to death all at once. I glanced down at my hands -- they were still there. I was fine-
Bolts of pain shot through every bone I had, every fiber of muscle. Tears formed in my eyes, rolling down my cheeks. I choked back sobs, using what was left of myself to avoid throwing up from the feeling of my skin shredding apart. It was like every part of my existence was being struck, down to my soul. It felt like hours passed in that roaring tempest, and I feared that I would never escape it. I used every bit of the focus I had to will my eyes to glance down towards my hands. They were still there, despite it all.
All at once, it faded. I collapsed back on the dirt, gasping for air. I felt like I grasped onto the gates of death’s domain, only to be pulled back.
Nothing else from that night remained in my memory, try as I might to remember.
----------------------------------------
“I.. Was sick for a couple of weeks after that. I think my master kind of underestimated the curse..”
Adeline had, to her credit, mostly focused on listening to me tell my story, with small questions sprinkled here and there. “Still, you had the Slumbering dispelled? I’ve never heard of something like that before. Your master must be quite the mage.”
“She was, yes.” I looked down, unsure of what else to say besides “I’m very glad to have met her.”