Solas hummed with anticipation as Seras and I roamed its vibrant streets, immersed in the excitement of the annual Magic Fair. This event marked a pivotal moment for us—the threshold of our twelfth year, when we awaited the testing that would unveil our latent magical potential. But before the solemnity of examination, we reveled in the fair's delights, courtesy of our father's generous purse.
Amongst the aromatic stalls, the comforting scent of our favorite dumplings beckoned—a familiar beacon amidst the throng of exotic wonders. Each stall boasted its own unique twist, yet the essence of these childhood favorites remained unchanged, a testament to the enduring comfort of tradition.
Amidst the bustling crowds, we reunited with friends, each of us drawn into our respective circles of camaraderie. While Seras engaged in animated conversation with the girls, I found myself entangled in playful antics with my fellow boys—a carefree moment amidst the weight of impending scrutiny.
As the hour of testing approached, we joined the queue, where an array of magical artifacts awaited our inspection. First among them stood the wardstones—beacons of protection adorned with ancient runes—a testament to our city's resilience against the encroaching shadows. These mystical relics emanated a psychic energy that repelled monsters and concealed the latent mana that permeated our world, ensuring the safety of our city's inhabitants.
Next, we encountered the enchanted farming tools—a marvel of ingenuity that revolutionized agricultural practices, accelerating crop growth and transforming the fortunes of farmers across the land. Their impact transcended the fields, reshaping the very fabric of our society.
Lastly, we beheld the fruits of my father's labor—a collaboration with craftsmen to forge weapons of unparalleled potency. Though the guns themselves bore no magical construction, the bullets, inscribed with potent runes, held the promise of vanquishing even the mightiest of foes.
As Seras approached the mage seated at a nearby table, anticipation hung thick in the air, palpable and electric. With a shared smile and a reassuring squeeze of my hand, she extended her fingers towards the seer's stone, met with the mage's hopeful gaze.
Yet, as the moments stretched into eternity, the stone remained inert, its surface devoid of the telltale glow that heralded the presence of magic. With stoic resolve, Seras accepted the verdict, her disappointment masked by a facade of composure.
As I ascended the step ladder, my heart thrummed with anticipation, mirroring the shifting hues of light that danced upon the seer's stone. With each pulsating cycle—a kaleidoscope of greens, blues, and purples—a sense of destiny stirred within me, awakening a power that I had yet to comprehend.
Amidst the whispers of astonishment that swirled around me, I felt the weight of realization settle upon my shoulders. I understood then, with a solemn certainty, that the path ahead would be fraught with both power and peril. With a determined nod, I embraced my identity—Victor Chevalier—a catalyst for the unfolding of forces beyond my control.
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Seras stared at me, disbelief etched across her face. I received congratulations from all my friends, their voices a chorus of excitement and admiration. Meanwhile, the mage seated nearby furrowed his brow, his fingers dancing across the screen of his phone as he made urgent calls. Sensing the need for privacy, Seras and I exchanged a glance and silently agreed to make our way home, navigating through the throng of well-wishers and strangers eager to shake my hand or offer their congratulations in person. I couldn't shake the feeling of unworthiness that gnawed at me, but I understood the significance of my newfound status as a mage—a responsibility that weighed heavily upon my shoulders.
Finally escaping the crowd's clamor, we arrived home to find our mother waiting, her expression a mix of concern and relief. Her warm embrace enveloped us, momentarily easing the tension that hung in the air. "I've heard your day turned quite eventful, Victor," she said, her voice tinged with a blend of amusement and concern. "Your father heard too and is on his way home early. Let's get dinner ready—there will be a lot to talk about."
A short while later, my father returned home, his features drawn with worry as he joined us at the dinner table. We discussed the implications of my newfound potential, the possibility of relocating to Draiocht weighing heavily on our minds. While my father saw it as an opportunity to further his work with mages and enhance his company's designs, my mother was hesitant to uproot our family from the familiarity of home. She remained silent, her gaze fixed on me, her unspoken fears echoing the doubts that lingered in my own mind.
As the conversation unfolded, a sense of unease settled upon me, the atmosphere growing increasingly oppressive. The air seemed to thicken, the lights dimming ominously as if heralding an impending storm. Before I could voice my concerns, the tranquility of the moment shattered with a deafening bang, followed by more. Pain erupted in my shoulder, and I recoiled, my vision swimming as I fell from my chair. To my horror, I saw my parents collapse beside me, their lifeless forms sprawled upon the floor.
In the doorway stood two shadowy figures, their presence ominous and foreboding. One seized Seras, his grip ironclad as she struggled against him. With dawning horror, I realized the truth—a vampire, his features twisted with malice and hunger, had come for my sister. Helpless, I watched as he sliced his wrist, offering his tainted blood to Seras, sealing her fate with each drop that trickled into her mouth.
Another figure, armed and dangerous, moved with ruthless precision, dispatching my father with a cold efficiency that sent shivers down my spine. My mother, too, fell victim to his relentless onslaught, her life extinguished in a heartbeat. As the assailants fled into the night, leaving chaos and devastation in their wake, I felt a surge of despair grip my heart.
But amidst the darkness, a glimmer of opportunity emerged—a spectral figure, cloaked in shadows, offering power and a chance to alter the course of fate. With determination coursing through my veins, I reached out, my fingers trembling as I accepted the pact that would grant me newfound strength and unlock untold potential.
And then, as if stirred from a profound reverie by the distant tolling of a bell, I gradually surfaced from the haze that enveloped me. Reality shifted, the shadows dissipating like wisps of smoke, and I blinked as the world snapped back into focus. With a glare at my phone resting on the nightstand, its persistent alarm urging me to wake, I realized the dream had ended, and the waking world awaited.