I woke up to the sensation of not wanting to die.
For anyone who has ever done a full day of intense, unfamiliar manual labor, you'll know this is a significant improvement over the alternative.
The previous morning, I'd woken up feeling like my soul had been scooped out with a rusty spoon and my body had been put inside a blender at max speed. This morning, however, I just felt… stif. Like I'd had a decent workout.
I sat up on my straw mattress, the dusty attic air cool against my skin. I stretched my arms over my head, and while my muscles still protested, it was a dull complaint, not a full-blown rebellion. I could feel the difference. The 2 points in Strength and 3 in Constitution weren't just numbers on a screen; they were the reason I could make a fist without wincing.
"Okay, System," I whispered to the motes of dust dancing in the single beam of morning light. "I'm officially a fan."
My new skill, `[Lesser Physical Endurance]`, was a subtle, background hum of resilience. It was the difference between having an empty gas tank and having a reserve tank. I still ran on fumes, but at least I had fumes to run on.
I pulled up my status screen, the familiar blue glow a comforting presence.
(Name: Maddox Olivia Morgan
Level: 2
Title: The Outsider
Status: Rested
Attributes:
Strength: 7
Dexterity: 6
Constitution: 8
Intelligence: 8
Wisdom: 7
Charisma: 7
Elemental Affinity:
None
My eyes lingered on that last line. *None*. It was a glaring deficiency, a zero on my report card. Today, that was going to change. My new quest loomed large in my mind, a primary objective marker flashing over Borin's kitchen.
Elemental Awakening
Objective: Make sustained, meaningful contact with a raw, powerful source of an element.
The target was obvious: Borin's stove. Or, as I was beginning to think of it: Mount Doom.
It was the most potent, most consistently available source of fire in my immediate vicinity. The problem, of course, was the angry, grunting Balrog who guarded it.
I needed a plan. A good plan. A plan that didn't end with me being flash-fried and served as the daily special.
I got dressed in my simple tunic and trousers, feeling more determined than I had any right to be, and headed downstairs. The tavern was quiet, smelling of stale ale and sawdust. Elara was already behind the bar, meticulously counting out coins from a leather pouch. She glanced up as I approached, her sharp eyes giving me a quick once-over.
"You're up early," she noted. "And you look less like a wet rag today, maybe you'll survive after all."
"That's the goal", I said with a smile "Is there anything to eat before I tackle… the pile?"
She nodded towards a small loaf of bread and a wedge of hard cheese on the counter. "Help yourself, Borin's already in the kitchen stoking the hearth. Don't get in his way until he's had his morning grumble."
"Morning grumble... Got it."
I took the food and sat at a corner table, trying to look like a normal employee and not a secret agent on a mission to touch the forbidden appliance. As I ate, I began Phase One of my plan: Reconnaissance.
Through the swinging door, I could hear the sounds of the kitchen coming to life. The clang of iron, the sharp chop of a cleaver, and the low, continuous roar of a powerful fire. Every so often, Borin would let out a grunt of effort or a curse directed at an inanimate object. He was a whirlwind of angry energy. Getting near that stove while he was in motion was suicide.
My shift began, and I was immediately grateful for my stat boosts. I hefted the first stack of dirty plates, and while they were still heavy, my arms didn't feel like they were going to detach from their sockets. I attacked the grime with renewed vigor, my movements faster and more efficient. The little `+0.01 XP` notifications were a steady, comforting rhythm.
I was so focused that I didn't notice Leo until he was standing beside me, a cheerful grin plastered on his face.
"Morning, Maddox! You're looking chipper," he said, starting to dry the plates I was washing. "Usually, the new dishwashers have a permanent look of despair by day two."
"I'm a deeply optimistic person," I lied to his face. "So, Leo. Tell me about Borin"
Leo chuckled, expertly stacking a pewter plate. "What's there to tell? He's short, he's angry, and he communicates in a language only he understands. He was born with a fire in his belly and a scowl on his face."
"I meant his magic," I clarified, trying to sound casual "That stove of his… it's pretty intense. Is it a special kind of stove?"
Leo's eyes lit up. He was a source of cheerful gossip. "Oh, it's not just a stove. That's a Forge-Hearth. Borin built it himself years ago. Channeled his own fire magic into the iron when he forged it. It's part of him, in a way. It's why his cooking is so good. He doesn't just heat the food; he infuses it with his elemental energy. He says it makes the flavors 'bolder'."
My eyes widened. This was even better than I thought. It wasn't just a source of fire; it was a focus for a powerful Mono-Element user. It was probably saturated with raw, elemental energy. 'The perfect catalyst.'
"Wow. So he must be pretty protective of it," I said, scrubbing a pot with feigned nonchalance.
"Protective?" Leo laughed. "He threatened to sear the mustache off a Royal tax collector who leaned against it once. The only time he leaves it completely unattended is when the morning delivery comes from the farms. He goes into the pantry to inspect every single vegetable. Says he can 'smell the lies' on a sub-par turnip. He's in there for two minutes. Exactly. Every day. Like clockwork."
*Bingo.*
That was it. That was my window. Two minutes. A hundred and twenty seconds to walk over, touch a super-heated, magically-infused forge, and not die.
"Fascinating," I said, my heart starting to beat a little faster. "He really loves his turnips."
The rest of the morning was a blur of work and nervous anticipation. I kept one eye on the kitchen door, waiting. Borin was a storm of activity, barking orders at a non-existent sous chef and occasionally shooting a suspicious glare in my direction, as if he could sense my impending transgression and was ready to make me pay for crimes i haven't even committed yet.
Around mid-morning, a young boy with a dirt-smudged face poked his head into the kitchen. "Veggie delivery for Cook Borin!"
Borin let out a grunt that could have cracked stone. He wiped his hands on his apron, the motion sharp and aggressive. "About time. You tell that farmer if I find one mushy potato in this lot, I'm coming down there to personally roast his prize-winning pig."
The boy squeaked and disappeared. Borin stalked towards the back pantry, his heavy boots thudding on the stone floor. The moment the pantry door closed behind him, my two-minute timer started.
My heart hammered against my ribs. My hands, slick with dishwater, were trembling. 'This is it. Go time.'
I dropped my scrub brush, wiped my hands on my own apron, and moved. My feet felt like lead, every step an eternity. The kitchen was suddenly silent without Borin's grumbling, the only sound the deep, hungry roar of the fire within the Forge-Hearth.
It was a beast of a thing up close. It was made of blackened iron, pitted and scarred from years of intense heat. Faint, almost invisible lines were etched into its surface, glowing with a soft, cherry-red light, like veins of lava. The heat rolling off it was immense, a physical presence that made the air shimmer. It was terrifying. And it was beautiful.
I took a deep breath, the hot air scorching my lungs. *Sustained, meaningful contact.* This wasn't going to be a quick tap.
I reached out a trembling hand. The System, as if sensing my intent, threw a warning notification into my vision.
**「 WARNING: Direct contact with a high-intensity elemental source may cause physical damage. User's Constitution (8) provides minimal resistance. Proceed? 」**
There was no time to hesitate. I clenched my jaw and pressed my palm flat against the iron surface next to the main firebox.
Pain.
White-hot, searing pain shot up my arm. It was a thousand times worse than I expected. It felt like plunging my hand directly into a bonfire. A scream caught in my throat, but I choked it down, my eyes watering.
And then the System kicked in.
A new interface element appeared, a large, vertical bar in the center of my vision.
[Establishing Connection to [FIRE] Element… ]
[Progress: 1% ]
The pain was excruciating, a clean, sharp agony that consumed all thought. My survival instincts screamed at me to pull away, to douse my hand in the sink, to run. But I held on, my muscles locked, my teeth grinding together.
[Progress: 15%]
Behind the pain, I could feel something else. A wild, chaotic energy was pouring into me from the forge. It was a torrent of pure heat, of rage and passion and unrestrained power. It was the essence of Borin's magic, the soul of the fire itself. It was overwhelming, trying to burn me out from the inside.
[Progress: 35%]
*Clump. Clump.*
My blood ran cold. Footsteps. From the pantry. He was coming back early.
'No, no, no, not yet!'
I squeezed my eyes shut, focusing all my will on keeping my hand in place. The smell of cooking meat filled my nostrils, and I had the horrifying realization that it was my own skin.
[ Progress: 62% ]
The pantry door creaked open. I could feel his presence behind me, a palpable aura of suspicion and annoyance. I was out of time.
"What are you doing?" Borin's voice was a low growl, dangerously quiet.
My mind raced, scrambling for an excuse. I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. All I could do was hold on.
[Progress: 89%]
'Come on, come on, come on!' The progress bar was crawling, each percentage point an eternity of agony.
"I said," Borin repeated, taking a step closer. The heat from his own body was now adding to the inferno of the forge. "What. Are. You. Doing."
[ Progress: 99% ]
*Ding*
The chime was the sweetest sound I had ever heard.
[Connection Established!]
[Elemental Affinity [FIRE] Unlocked (Dormant)! ]
[ Quest Complete: Elemental Awakening! ]
Rewards: 100 XP, Unlocks [Magic] Skill Tree.
I ripped my hand away from the forge with a strangled gasp, stumbling backward and spinning to face him. I hid my throbbing hand behind my back, my heart trying to beat its way out of my chest.
Borin stood there, his arms crossed, his face a thundercloud. His eyes narrowed, darting from my face to the Forge-Hearth and back again.
"I… I…" My voice was a weak, raspy thing. My brain, which had completely shut down from the pain, offered up the single stupidest excuse imaginable. "I dropped a spoon"
His glare intensified "You dropped a spoon. Behind the Forge-Hearth. The hottest part of the kitchen."
"It was a very… slippery spoon," I squeaked, my lie so pathetic it was almost avant-garde.
He stared at me for a long, silent moment. I was sure he was going to wrap his fiery hands around my neck. I could see him calculating the odds of getting away with incinerating the new dishwasher.
Then, to my utter astonishment, he just grunted "Spoons don't go back there. Get back to your sink. And if I ever see you near my Hearth again, I'll use your bones to stir my stew."
He turned his back on me, dismissing me as if I were a cockroach not even worth the effort of squashing. I didn't need to be told twice. I practically scurried back to my station, my legs shaking so badly I was surprised I didn't collapse.
I plunged my hand into the murky dishwater, the coolness a blessed relief. The pain subsided to a deep, angry throb. I cautiously pulled it out to inspect the damage, expecting to see a charred, blistered mess.
My palm was bright red, an angry scarlet that stood out against my pale skin. It looked like a severe sunburn, but the skin wasn't broken. There were no blisters, it was tender, but it was whole. My Constitution score, as pathetic as it was, combined with whatever baseline protections the System offered, had saved me from a trip to the local healer.
I leaned against the sink, my body slick with a cold sweat, and let out a shaky breath. I did it. It was stupid, reckless, and agonizingly painful, but I did it.
I pulled up my status screen one last time, my eyes going straight to the bottom.
Elemental Affinity:
Fire (Dormant)
A wide, triumphant grin spread across my face. The grind was real. But for the first time, I had a spark of my own. Now, I just had to learn how to light the match.