The first rays of dawn spilled over the village, painting the modest rooftops in hues of gold and amber. The morning light filtered softly through the curtains of the small home where Emma stirred, her tiny frame shifting beneath a blanket. The memory of the previous day burned brightly in her mind—a glowing sphere of magic, swirling winds, and her sister's unwavering concentration. That moment had ignited something in her, a flame of curiosity and ambition she could not ignore.
Awake now, Emma's small hands pushed the blanket aside as she began her familiar crawl through the house. The cool wooden floor creaked under her movement, each sound swallowed by the quiet stillness of early morning. Her destination was clear: the library.
The heavy wooden door stood tall and imposing, but Emma approached it with purpose. She leaned her weight against the door, pushing it open just enough to slip inside. The library greeted her with its usual hush, the air thick with the scent of old parchment and leather bindings. Dust motes floated in the streams of sunlight that pierced the room, giving the space an almost otherworldly glow.
Emma’s gaze fell upon the magic book she had claimed the day before, its leather cover weathered and faintly cracked. She crawled to it, her small hands brushing against the spine as she pulled it closer. Settling onto the floor, she opened it with a mix of reverence and anticipation.
The first words she read felt like they were written just for her.
“In this world filled with magic, there are three types of magic users: Augmenters, Casters, and Specialists.”
Emma’s small voice echoed softly in the quiet room as she repeated the passage, her awe growing with each word. Her fingers traced the illustrations on the page—depictions of warriors clad in armor, mages surrounded by glowing sigils, and individuals wielding powers so strange they defied description.
“Augmenters,” she read, her voice rising with excitement, “are magic users capable of enhancing their physical or tactical abilities. They excel in combat and defense or in specialized skills that interact with the physical world.”
She paused, her mind conjuring images of towering knights with fists that could shatter stone or nimble fighters whose movements were too fast for the eye to follow.
“Casters,” Emma continued, her fascination deepening, “focus on spellcasting, manipulating elements, summoning, and shaping battlefields to support their allies. They are the architects of magic, weaving the fabric of the world into tools and weapons.”
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Her finger moved to the final section, her eyes wide with wonder.
“Specialists, often called Mutants, possess unique and unpredictable magical abilities. Their powers are unconventional, often born of genetic mutations or mysterious origins.”
A shiver ran through Emma as she imagined what it might mean to wield such rare and enigmatic powers. The possibilities seemed endless, each path more fascinating than the last.
Turning the page, Emma found a diagram of a glowing sphere set within a person’s midsection—the Ki Core.
“Magic in this world can only be manifested by channeling the life force, which they call the Ki Core,” she read aloud, her voice filled with reverence. Beneath the diagram was a list of core stages, each accompanied by its own color.
“Black for Beginning or Impure,” Emma murmured, her tiny finger hovering over the text. “Red for Awakening. Orange for Rising. Yellow for Gathering. Green for Settling—the stage most people reach.”
She leaned closer, her breath catching as she continued.
“Silver for Rocket. White for Pure—the pinnacle of mortal achievement. And…” Her voice dropped to a whisper, her heart racing. “Colorless. The Ascended Stage. Limitless. Achievable only by gods or deities.”
The weight of the words pressed against her chest. Emma closed her eyes for a moment, imagining what it would feel like to reach those heights, to wield power that transcended mortality.
With trembling hands, she turned to another book nearby. Its title, Awakening of Magic, gleamed faintly in the light. Opening it, she eagerly devoured the text within.
“Magic Awakening often occurs in children between the ages of five and ten,” she read, her lips curving into a wry smile. “I’m not even a year old yet.” The thought of awakening so early filled her with both amusement and resolve.
“To awaken one’s Ki Core,” she continued, “cultivating is key. One must channel all the energy outside and within their body to the origin of their life force. For some, the process occurs naturally. For others, late awakening may require deliberate training and effort.”
The instructions were simple yet profound. Emma stared at the diagrams of children sitting cross-legged, their expressions serene as energy radiated from their cores. She mimicked the pose instinctively, her tiny hands resting on her lap as she closed her eyes.
For a moment, the world fell away. The distant hum of the village faded, replaced by the steady rhythm of her own breathing. In her mind’s eye, she imagined the Ki Core within her—a small, dormant ember waiting to be ignited.
But the moment was fleeting. The creak of the front door snapped her back to reality, and Emma’s eyes flew open. Panic surged through her as she realized her mother must be home. Hastily, she closed the book and returned it to its place on the shelf.
As she crawled back to her crib, her mind buzzed with thoughts of the future. The library’s secrets had planted a seed within her—a vision of herself as a magic user, standing tall and strong, with the power to protect those she loved.
Lying in her crib, Emma stared at the ceiling, the soft glow of twilight casting shadows that danced like specters on the walls. She imagined the feel of magic coursing through her veins, the weight of power in her hands, and the possibilities that awaited her.
One day, she would harness the forces of this world. One day, she would ascend. But for now, she would dream. And in those dreams, the flickering flame burned brighter than ever.