The rest of my shift passed in a haze of adrenaline, watering eyes and throbbing pain. Every time I gripped a pot handle or scrubbed a stubborn stain, a fresh wave of agony shot up my arm from my scorched palm. It was a constant, angry reminder of my reckless gamble. But beneath the pain, there was a thrum of something new. A deep, resonant warmth that had nothing to do with the injury. It was a faint, internal pilot light, a tiny flicker of power that was now part of me.
Borin ignored me with a focused intensity that was more unnerving than his usual grumbling. He didn't speak to me, didn't look at me, but I could feel his eyes on my back whenever I moved. He knew I hadn't been looking for a spoon. He just didn't know what I *had* been doing, and that fragile mystery was the only thing keeping me from being roasted over a low heat.
When Elara finally called the end of the shift, I felt like a marathon runner crossing the finish line. I practically collapsed onto a stool at the bar, cradling my injured hand.
"Tough day?" she asked, her voice laced with its usual dry amusement as she slid a bowl of stew in front of me. Tonight's was a thick, hearty lentil soup that smelled of herbs and smoked meat.
"You could say that" I mumbled, trying to hold my spoon with my left hand. It was awkward and clumsy, and I ended up sloshing a bit of broth onto the counter.
Elara's sharp eyes immediately zeroed in on my other hand. "What did you do to yourself?"
"Oh, uhm... just a burn" I said, trying to sound casual. "Got a little too close to the stove. Clumsy me."
She reached across the bar and before I could react she gently took my hand, her calloused fingers surprisingly soft. She turned my palm over, examining the angry red skin. Her brow furrowed "That's a nasty one. It looks like you pressed it right against the iron. What in the blazes were you thinking?"
"I wasn't," I admitted, which was the truest thing I'd said all day. "It was a stupid accident."
She let out a sigh that was part exasperation part something else. Pity, maybe. "You mountain folk are a strange breed... Here" She let go of my hand and reached under the bar pulling out a small, earthenware pot filled with a thick, green-smelling salve. "This'll help. It's a mix of river moss and stone-root. My mother's recipe. Good for burns and bruises".
She scooped out a small dollop with her finger and gently began to spread it over my palm. The salve was blessedly cool, instantly soothing the fiery pain. The relief was so profound I almost sagged off the stool.
"Thank you," I said, my voice thick with genuine gratitude. "Really. Thank you, Elara."
"Just try not to maim yourself again," she grunted, putting the pot away. "I'm running a tavern not a charity ward and you're no good to me if you can't wash a dish."
Despite her gruff words, I knew it was her way of showing she cared. Or at the very least that she valued my cheap labor. I ate my stew, the cool salve and the warm food working their magic, and felt a sense of belonging I hadn't realized I was missing. Here, in this smelly, noisy tavern, with a grumpy pyromaniac for a boss and a stoic earth-mover for a landlady, I had found a strange sort of home.
After I finished, I bid Elara and Leo goodnight and trudged up to my attic room. The moment the door was closed, I sank onto my mattress and pulled up the System.
The `100 XP` from the quest had filled my level bar about a quarter of the way. Not enough for a level-up, but it was a nice boost. The real prize, however, was the newly unlocked skill tree.
[[Magic] Skill Tree Now Available!]
I selected it with a mental command, my heart pounding with anticipation. The interface expanded, showing a new screen. It was dominated by a large, circular icon of a roaring flame.
[ Elemental Affinity: [FIRE] (Dormant)]
Description: You have established a connection to the fundamental essence of Fire. The power is within you, but it is untamed and inaccessible. You must learn to control and manifest it.
Available Tier 1 Fire Skills:
[Ignite] (Active):* The most basic expression of Fire magic. Focus your will and elemental energy to create a small, short-lived flame at your fingertips.
Cost: 1 Skill Point.
Prerequisites: None.
[Sense Heat] (Passive): Your connection to the Fire element allows you to passively sense sources of significant heat within a small radius.
Cost: 1 Skill Point.
Prerequisites: None.
I had one unspent skill point from my last level-up. It was burning a hole in my metaphysical pocket. `[Sense Heat]` sounded useful, a neat party trick, but `[Ignite]`… `[Ignite]` was magic. Real, tangible, 'shoot-fire-from-my-hands' magic. There was no contest.
I selected `[Ignite]`.
[ Spend 1 Skill Point to learn [Ignite]?]
I confirmed it without a second's hesitation.
[Skill Learned: [Ignite]!]
[A new energy pathwa:y has been formed within you. The System will now guide you through the initial activation process.]
A tutorial window popped up, superimposed over the skill description.
[Ignite] - Tutorial:
Step 1: Extend your dominant hand, palm up.
Step 2: Focus on the internal warmth you now possess. Feel the connection to the Fire element. This is your Mana Pool (currently very small).
Step 3: Draw a small amount of that energy, pulling it from your core, down your arm, and into your palm.
Step 4: As the energy pools in your hand, shape your will. Form a clear, concise mental image of a small flame. Command it to exist.
"Okay," I whispered to the empty room, my voice trembling with excitement. "Easy enough. Hand, focus, pull, command."
I sat up straight, taking a deep, calming breath. I extended my right hand, my burned hand, palm up. The cool salve tingled on my skin.
*Focus on the internal warmth.*
I closed my eyes and looked inward. At first, there was nothing. Just the usual hum of my own body. But then, as I concentrated, I found it. It was a tiny, warm ember nestled deep in my solar plexus. It was the energy I had absorbed from Borin's forge, a foreign power that was now irrevocably mine.
*Draw a small amount of that energy.*
I imagined reaching out to that ember with a mental hand, gently coaxing a tiny stream of warmth from it. I visualized it flowing up, a river of liquid heat, through my chest and down my arm. I could actually feel it, a faint tingling sensation that followed the path I imagined. The warmth pooled in my palm, making the skin tingle and the salve feel even cooler in contrast.
[ Mana successfully channeled to focal point.]
*Shape your will. Command it to exist.*
This was the tricky part. I pictured a candle flame. Small, steady, teardrop-shaped. A simple, orange-yellow flame, dancing gently in the air just above my palm. I poured all my concentration into that single image, into the *idea* of the flame.
*Ignite*
Nothing happened.
The warmth in my palm dissipated, flowing back to my core. I was left with a faint sense of mental exhaustion, like I'd just tried to solve a complex math problem.
"Okay, round two," I muttered.
I tried again. And again. And again. For over an hour, I sat there in the dark, my hand outstretched, sweat beading on my forehead. I tried focusing harder. I tried focusing less. I tried picturing a bigger flame, a smaller flame, a blue flame. I tried whispering "ignite" out loud. I tried yelling it. I tried being nice to it.
The result was always the same. A brief pooling of warmth in my palm, followed by… nothing. The internal ember, my mana pool, felt noticeably weaker, dimmer. I was running out of juice.
Frustration began to curdle into despair. Was this it? Had I gone through all that pain just to unlock a skill that didn't work? Was my will too weak? Was I just not cut out for this?
I slumped back against the wall, defeated. My hand throbbed. I was tired and sore and I smelled vaguely of grease and lentils. I looked at my outstretched hand, at the faint redness still visible under the green salve. I thought about the searing pain, the raw, untamed power I had felt from the forge.
The tutorial said to picture a candle flame. Small. Controlled. But the energy I had absorbed wasn't small or controlled. It was wild. It was Borin's rage and passion hammered into iron and stoked for years. It wasn't a candle flame; it was a furnace blast. Maybe I was trying to ask a lion to meow like a kitten.
'Okay. New approach. Don't command it. Don't try to force it into a shape it doesn't want to be. Just… let it out.'
I took another deep breath, but this time I didn't try to calm myself. I let the frustration build. I thought about my old life, ending in a flash of light. I thought about being dropped into this world with nothing but a set of garbage stats and a quest to become the strongest. I thought about the agony of the burn, the humiliation of having to lie to Borin, the sheer, overwhelming difficulty of it all. I let the anger and determination churn inside me.
I reached for the ember again, but this time I didn't coax. I *yanked*. I pulled on that power with all my frustration, dragging a thick, hot current of energy down my arm. It wasn't a gentle stream; it was a flash flood. The warmth in my palm was immediate and intense, far stronger than before. It felt like holding a hot coal.
I didn't picture a candle. I pictured the roar of Borin's forge. I remembered the feeling of that untamed heat, the wild, chaotic dance of the flames. I didn't try to will it into existence. I just opened the floodgates.
*Burn.*
*FWOOMP.*
A fist-sized ball of brilliant orange fire erupted from my palm. It wasn't a gentle flame; it was a miniature explosion. It roared into existence with an audible whoosh, hot and violent and utterly terrifying. It lasted for barely a second, a brilliant, blinding flash, before vanishing as quickly as it appeared, leaving behind a puff of smoke and the sharp smell of ozone.
I stared, wide-eyed, at my hand. It was tingling, numb, but unharmed. The air in front of me shimmered with residual heat.
I did it.
A giddy, hysterical laugh bubbled up from my chest. It was uncontrolled, messy, and probably used up way too much mana. But it was *mine*.
*Ding*
A notification I hadn't expected popped up.
[ Skill [Ignite] has gained 5 XP. (5/100 to Level 2)]
[First successful magic cast! You have gained 10 XP!]
I could level up my skills. Of course I could. This was a System, after all. Everything was a grind. Everything could be improved.
My tiny mana pool was almost completely drained. I felt a bone-deep weariness, a mental exhaustion far greater than any physical fatigue I had experienced. But I didn't care. I lay back on my mattress, a wide, triumphant grin plastered on my face.
The journey to becoming the strongest being in this world was going to be long and arduous. It was going to be filled with pain and setbacks and probably a lot more dishwashing. But for the first time, I had tangible proof that it was possible.
I had a spark. And now I knew how to make it burn.
Looking at my empty mana pool and feeling the mental drain, I realized something crucial. I couldn't just sit in my room and practice all night. I needed more stats. Specifically, I needed more Intelligence, which the System tooltips informed me governed the size of my mana pool, and more Wisdom, which governed my mana regeneration rate. To get more stats, I needed to level up. To level up, I needed XP. And the most reliable, if mind-numbingly slow, source of XP I had was washing dishes.
My path to becoming a powerful mage was paved with greasy, gravy-stained pewter. The irony was not lost on me.
I closed my eyes, the image of that roaring fireball burned into the back of my eyelids. Sleep came quickly, and for the first time since arriving in XE-734, I dreamt of fire.