“Thale Feldrast,” Beltane said loud enough for everyone present to hear. “Priest.”
A series of gasps filled the garden. It was incredibly rare for a child to attain [Class] levels before their tenth birthday. In my case, however, it wasn’t that strange. All I had to do to attain the priest class was to abstain from violence for a few years. The handful of children who were able to awaken before the Ritual of Observation were usually of the priest, noble, or commoner [Class].
The shock was probably the result of the townspeople’s awareness of the Feldrasts’ relationship with the Church of Nyx. My ancestors had been forced to flee from the Holy Nation of Sondrith centuries before due to the Church’s belief that the [Hellfire] Talent was the result of a pact between the Feldrast Dynasty and the forces of Hell itself. My ancestors were forced to make the crossing at Halvar’s Pass, and many of them died. This, naturally, caused some resentment among the inheritors of [Hellfire].
“Health, eight. Mana…” Beltane paused for a moment, as if he had to make sure the number he wrote on the page was correct, “two hundred and fifty-one.”
The surprise surrounding that piece of information was much more palpable and much more understandable. A typical mage would have between one hundred and two hundred mana. The only people that one would expect to have more than two hundred mana were Archmages and exceedingly experienced war mages like Beltane.
“Are you sure?” Armond, who was standing close to Beltane, asked. He stepped forward and peered over Beltane’s shoulder to see what he had just written down. “That’s impossible. That would mean his mana reserve was more than double mine.”
I had never used [Observe] on Armond, but that sounded about correct. If you were to frequently cast spells but never make any particular effort to increase your mana reserve, it would top out just above one hundred.
“I am merely repeating what my Talent has shown me,” Beltane said. “If you don’t mind, there’s still more to say.”
“Of course,” Armond said as he stepped back toward the crowd.
Beltane cleared his throat before saying, “Fortitude, three. Strength, three. Agility, four. Intelligence, eighteen. Willpower, fifteen. Talents, [Hellfire] and [Observe].”
“Did he just say eighteen?” A disbelieving voice came from the crowd.
Beltane snapped the tome shut and turned to Armond. With the cadence of someone who had spoken this sentence a hundred times before, he said, “I swear upon my honor that these are my legitimate observations of the individual seated before me.”
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In the shocked silence that followed Beltane’s declaration, he silently stepped back into the manor.
All at once, the garden exploded into excited conversation. Some expressed disbelief and stated the need to get a second opinion. Others spoke happily about how I would be the greatest spellcaster since Mitrikov. The sound annoyed me, but I forced my face into an expression of shock.
After several minutes of dealing with people congratulating me, I retreated to the shade of an old oak tree that was situated off to one of the garden’s corners. Thankfully, Nina was the only one who had followed me over to the tree. In my hands, I held the wand given to me by Lord Riomed.
The ritual itself meant very little to me. I knew my own attributes. The whole ritual was almost entirely for the edification of my family and the townspeople. The wand, however, meant quite a bit to me. It was my first step toward being a true mage. My mind blazed with the possible spells I could engrave on the wand’s empty spaces. I could engrave [Wind Knife] or [Fly] on the wand. Perhaps, depending on the speed I learned new spells, I could engrave even more advanced spells on the wand.
I wondered how difficult it would be to learn enchantment magic. The school of magic used to create and upgrade magic items was jealously protected, and people said that it took a lifetime to master Enchantment. “Alchemist” was one of the most prestigious occupations on the planet. Even the biggest cities of Etronia and Mitrikova would rarely have more than one Alchemist.
I pointed my wand at a few small stones on the ground and gently lifted them into the air. There was something especially satisfying about magically lifting objects into the air without having to say a word.
“Was there something you wanted to tell me, Nina?” I asked after putting a rock back down on the ground.
“It seems kind of silly now,” Nina said sadly, looking down at the dirt. “Your two hundred mana and eighteen [Intelligence] is a lot more interesting.”
“It’s not nearly as impressive as you think…” I muttered quietly enough that Nina couldn’t hear me. “How do I put this?” I spoke out loud. “The truth is, I’m different from normal children, Nina. There’s no reason for you to compare yourself to me, I’m… different.”
“Will you ever tell me how you’re different?” Nina asked with an annoyed tone.
“I’m afraid I can’t,” I frowned. “What did you want to tell me?”
“Beltane has been teaching me spells,” Nina said, the annoyance quickly disappearing from her voice. “He said [Lift Object] was too advanced for me, though.”
“Oh?” I was always surprised at the absurd rate of Nina’s advancement. “What [Spells] has he taught you?”
“Just one,” she said. “He taught me the [Fire Bolt] spell. You wanna see?”
“Of course,” I said with a smile.
“Ignis!” Nina called out the incantation, and a small mote of fire appeared near the palm of her hand. With her face scrunched up with effort, she held her hand out toward the sky, and the Fire Bolt flew upward.
“That’s amazing!” I said with genuine excitement. That was a tough spell for adults to learn.
“See?” Nina said with a broad smile. “Now I can use fire magic, just like you.”