Though our comprehension of the origin planes remains constrained, one truth prevails: the planes are sentient and are each driven by an all-encompassing will that imprints the spirit of any awakened individual whose ideals and nature have begun to align with those of their elements or concepts. This imprint is called a seal, and it signifies the acknowledgement of an individual by their origin planes.
Origin of the Origin planes.
By leading expert Professor Corian Tilinus.
Lutia, year 2269.
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Andrew groaned as the skill slipped from his grasp once again. An entire hour had passed since Aodhán had given him the idea of how to circumvent his limitations, especially in a place where he had no access to plants save the ones he created himself.
After Aodhán shared his thoughts, Andrew felt stupid. He berated himself for not coming up with the idea himself, but he wasn’t exactly the sharpest tool in the shed.
Aodhán’s idea was a simple {Create Seed} skill, and if he could just create the skill, then it would take him to a whole new level of power. The skill had inspired the creation of another skill, {Accelerate Growth}, which had been fairly easy to create, but what use was the second skill without the first?
“It happens; sometimes it takes days to get a skill, even when you’re doing everything right.” Aodhán consoled with a smile, but Andrew was in no mood to listen as he wanted to gain the skill immediately.
Aodhán shook his head and returned to his own meditation. He’d spent the last hour honing his control and taming his willpower. He turned his gaze to Daruk, who hadn’t moved an inch since he’d walked into the room.
Every few minutes, a wave of intense chill billowed out of him in a manner very similar to his aura, but Aodhán could sense that it was different. This time the chill spread out to cover half of the training room, covering the ground with a thin layer of ice that caused Aodhán to hurriedly shift backwards.
Aodhán didn’t understand what Daruk was trying to do, but he suspected that he was trying to perfect a skill by infusing large amounts of willpower into it. The chill disappeared almost immediately, but the layer of ice remained.
After observing Daruk for a few more minutes, Aodhán decided that he was alright and once again returned his attention to his core, where 15 strands of energized willpower floated.
He smiled at the progress he’d made in only an hour. It wasn’t too surprising, though, considering the boost in control the opening had provided him.
He was still focusing on his core when Andrew groaned again. “I was so close, dammit. I swear, I almost had it this time.”
Aodhán sighed and repeated the same thing he’d said only a few minutes ago, but Andrew shook his head. “No offense, Aodhán, but you’re not getting it. Something is wrong; it’s not about control, nor do I need more time. The problem is with the skill itself; it feels incomplete.”
Aodhán scrunched his brows in confusion, as he’d never experienced anything like that before, so he moved to sit opposite Andrew and said, “Okay, let’s try and retrace our steps, and maybe try a different method.”
Andrew agreed, and he continued. “So, to create a skill, you must imagine what you’re trying to do with as much detail as you can. Try and feel every part of the skill you want to create; if there’s something lacking within it, you should find it.”
Andrew closed his eyes again, and Aodhán watched him closely. It was very easy to create a skill, especially when one had the necessary control to handle and use it.
Although he and Daruk had an edge in this department, considering the enormous amount of willpower available to them, a simple skill like the one Andrew was trying to create shouldn’t be giving him this much trouble.
Andrew’s eyebrows wiggled as he tried to hold the image in his mind, and Aodhán frowned as he finally figured out what he was doing wrong. “The image is unstable; it means it’s not quite detailed enough, or perhaps it’s too strong for you. What seed are you imagining?”
“Zephyr’s lily. It’s an awakened plant within my family’s estate.”
Aodhán smiled. “How about you start with an unawakened seed instead, something mundane? That’s probably the reason why you’re having so much difficulty holding the image together.”
Andrew frowned as he contemplated his words, but before they could put the theory to the test, a loud gasp rang out, and they both turned to find Daruk on his feet, eyes completely frozen over as energy and willpower erupted out of him.
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Light flashed an instant later, and the entire training room was suddenly engulfed in a thick layer of ice and snow.
….
Daruk had started his day with the whispers of fear and insecurity ringing in his head, but by noon, the whispers had transformed into feelings of weakness and unworthiness. His fears had only grown when he’d realized just how far behind his peers he actually was.
Most of the other students had an edge over him, and although he had an edge over them as well, he was never one to compare himself to those less than himself.
How could a person develop if they never aimed higher? How could they grow without challenging stronger opponents?
He’d tried to motivate himself and kick himself out of the depressive funk he’d fallen into, but no matter what he did, the feeling kept coming back, clawing its way out of the box he’d shoved it in like the pesky whispers of infernal fairies.
He’d battled his own mind for the entirety of the second class and had barely even heard a word the man was saying. It wasn’t until he’d sat down to meditate about an hour ago that he finally gained a semblance of calm.
As he relished the reprieve from his torturous thoughts, he realized something he hadn’t truly understood before.
He was different from the others; he was an inheritor, with the will of an ascendant burning within him. How many people could say that about themselves? How many people had access to the wellspring of willpower that he so casually cultivated?
If anyone should fear, it shouldn’t be him. If anyone was unworthy, it couldn’t be him. He bore the legacy of an ascendant; why then was he so weak? With all his advantages, why was he weaker than people like Yurin and Aodhán?”
He shook his head as anger sparked within him. He would fix it! His weakness was not only a shame to himself but to his patron as well. He had to fix it. He had to do something.
With renewed vigor and motivation, his mind delved into his core once more, and his breath hitched as he took in the vast amount of willpower burning within his core. He had harnessed and tamed more willpower than anyone his age should ever have.
The tamed will floating in his core glowed brightly to his senses, and an immense feeling of heaviness emanated from it. His mind sank deeper until he lost every sense of his surroundings, and just as the world fell away, a statement Valerie Potts had made that morning flashed through his mind.
Cold is the absence of heat.
In a sense, she was right, but the statement wasn’t completely true. Cold was naturally the opposite of heat, but the true absence of heat was absolute cold, the theoretical lowest temperature possible.
He frowned as his mind flashed to his freeze skill, and with a thought, he imbued the skill with three strands of energized willpower. The drop in temperature was instant, causing the moisture in the air to freeze even as a thin layer of frost coated the ground.
It could be said that the skill did its job, but even with the infusion of willpower, it felt lacking. The skill was a facsimile, a hollow imitation of the original, and it was his fault.
He sighed as his mind flashed back to the moment he’d created the skill. He hadn’t had enough control to wield the skill at the time, but he’d used an enormous amount of willpower to forcefully gain the skill and had almost killed himself in the process.
It was no surprise that the skill was lacking, as what he’d gained was a compressed and washed-down version of what he’d actually wanted. He’d been rushing ever since he’d awoken as an ice awakened. He’d been in a hurry to gain skills and become as strong as Aodhán, but he realized now that he’d been hobbling himself.
He’d been trying to run without learning to crawl, but he would fix it all, starting with the freeze skill.
He spent the next few hours focusing on {Freeze}, constantly refining and honing his understanding of the skill. He tested the skill regularly, pushing it’s limits as he worked towards perfecting it.
Every time he tested the skill, the drop in temperature increased, and at one point, he simply dismissed the strands of energized will swirling in his core. He had no need for them; the power of the skill alone should have been enough to completely freeze the entire training room.
His next skill test was many times weaker than the last one, considering the absence of willpower in the skill, but he didn’t let that bother him. Instead, he pushed harder on the skill, refining it until the chill it created was more than double that of the imbued skill, yet Daruk wasn’t satisfied.
He could feel himself getting closer to something—some form of enlightenment—and, unwilling to lose it, he channeled energy into his eyes. It was extremely foolish and dangerous, but Daruk consoled himself with the fact that his eyes would heal, but enlightenment might never come again.
He hissed as his energy flowed into his eyes, but with his major resistance to cold, the pain was only a little more than a sting. His sight changed almost instantly, and his surroundings withered, turning white and black as if drained of color.
Slowly, he stood to his feet and turned, identifying several pockets of heat that the skill had failed to eliminate. These were the flaws in the skill, and until he was able to completely eliminate every heat signature around him, he wouldn’t be satisfied.
With calculative precision, he began correcting the flaws in the skill, constantly refining it with willpower as he drained every iota of heat within the boundary of the skill.
After an hour of refining the skill, a ping resounded in his mind, but he ignored the notification and tested the skill one last time.
The chill that descended on the training room this time was so absolute and pure that even with his resistance to cold, he shivered uncontrollably and his skin turned blue. The chill spread through his veins, and although every part of him resisted, he held on.
Enlightenment was closer now; he could feel it. He struggled to hold on as cold engulfed him, and just as he reached his limit, the world fell away, and he found himself in a picturesque snowscape filled with nothing save for ice, snow, and frost.
Every surface glistened with a pristine layer of snow, untouched and untainted by mortal footprints, and mountains made entirely of ice jutted towards a sky obscured by swirling blizzards.
Insane whispers filled his mind, and Daruk instantly knew where he was. He tried to think, but his thoughts escaped his grasp like water through his fingers. He took in a deep breath, filling his lungs with the sharp scent of frost, but rather than clearing his mind, it only worsened the situation.
Daruk froze when suddenly, an all-encompassing consciousness probed his mind, and an overwhelming feeling of danger and belonging surged within him. Chaos dove into his mind, and he staggered as vertigo hit him hard.
The chaotic consciousness ravaged through his mind, searching through his memories, and a sense of approval flowed into Daruk’s mind.
The consciousness withdrew from his puny mind, and a moment later, chaotic essence flowed into his spirit.