A frozen wasteland stretched beneath a pale, unfeeling sky. Wind dragged ribbons of snow across the barren ground, erasing tracks as quickly as they were made. In that endless white stood a solitary figure, cloaked from head to toe, not a trace of skin visible.
Before him, a vast mountain range rose like the spine of some ancient god.
"So this is the place…," he murmured.
A worn map slipped from his sleeve into pale fingers. He studied it only briefly before returning it to its hiding place with practiced efficiency.
Then he stepped forward — and dropped from the cliff.
The fall should have killed him.
Instead, he descended like a shadow cast upon the air itself, gliding silently down jagged rock and through cutting wind. Snow swirled around him, yet none seemed to cling to his cloak. When the mountain's enormous shadow swallowed him, he vanished.
Moments later, he emerged inside a cavern.
The air was cold and damp, heavy with the scent of stone that had not been disturbed for centuries. Water dripped steadily somewhere in the darkness, each echo stretching into silence.
He searched.
Every crevice. Every ledge.
Hours passed.
Nothing.
With a sharp exhale, he leaned against the wall. "I knew there was nothing here… but no — he insisted something valuable was hidden here."
Frustration surged through him. He slammed his fist into the ground.
The cavern trembled.
A crack split the earth beneath his boots.
His eyes widened just as the floor gave way.
He plunged into darkness.
His cloak billowed open, catching the air like a parachute, but the descent was too sudden. He struck the ground with a bone-rattling impact, a groan tearing from his chest.
Slowly, he retrieved a small vial from his coat and forced down the bitter liquid inside. His face twisted.
"I hate the taste of this painkiller," he muttered, spitting before pushing himself upright.
When he lifted his gaze, he froze.
The chamber was enormous — unnaturally still. A single prismarine lamp cast fractured blue light across the stone, revealing two chests resting beneath it. One large. One small.
Curiosity stirred. So did caution.
He approached carefully, senses sharpened.
The larger chest drew him in.
The moment the lid creaked open, violent energy erupted outward.
It struck him like a charging beast.
He flew across the chamber and slammed into the wall, stone splintering on impact and leaving a crater where his body met rock.
Through blurred vision, he watched the energy twist and condense.
Tusks formed first — long, gleaming, monstrous.
Then came the rest of it.
A colossal boar towered before him, its breath steaming, hooves grinding against the stone.
A trap.
"Of course the big one was a trap," he rasped.
With a flick of his wrists, daggers shot from his sleeves into his waiting hands. A grin spread slowly across his face.
"Bring it on."
The boar charged.
It moved with terrifying speed, tusks lowering.
They pierced straight through him.
The creature barely registered the lack of resistance before the body it struck dissolved into shadow.
Behind it, steel flashed.
The man drove both daggers deep into its back.
The boar shrieked and thrashed wildly, smashing itself against the cavern wall until the force tore the blades free. Smoke curled from its nostrils, rising toward the fractured ceiling.
Then came the fire.
A roaring jet of crimson flame engulfed the space where the man had stood.
But he was already gone — melted into the darkness — reappearing in the far corner, panting, blood trailing down his arm. His cloak, now burned and useless, slid from his shoulders.
Pale skin. Blonde hair. Black irises that swallowed the light.
"Oh… now you've done it."
He lifted a trembling hand. Shadows crept upward, spreading across the broken ceiling like ink in water. Stone groaned, tore free, and sharpened into jagged spikes.
With a final gesture, he brought them crashing down.
The boar tried to charge again.
The spikes pierced deep.
It staggered once… twice… then collapsed, its massive body already beginning to disintegrate into drifting particles.
"Good riddance," he said hoarsely, clutching his shoulder as he staggered toward the smaller chest.
Inside lay scattered gold and silver — and a scroll.
Resting atop them was a ring.
Black metal circled a cracked purple jewel, strange engravings spiraling along its band. It looked unremarkable… yet difficult to ignore.
He turned it between his fingers.
"Should fetch enough for a new cloak."
The ring vanished into a compartment on his belt. After downing two vials of glowing blue liquid, strength returned just enough for him to summon the shadows once more.
In an instant, he was gone.
The cavern fell silent again, the last remnants of the boar dissolving into nothing.
---
Far away, a village lay buried beneath relentless snow — a place where winter ruled ten months of the year and rain claimed the rest.
Near its edge, in a quiet forest, a fifteen-year-old boy swung a hatchet into a block of timber. Each strike echoed through the trees.
On a nearby stump sat a younger boy, no older than thirteen, legs swinging idly beside a full sack of firewood.
"Need help, big bro?" he called.
"No. I'm almost done," the older boy replied, splitting the second-to-last log before wiping sweat from his brow.
"Just don't overwork yourself. Tomorrow's your birthday."
The hatchet froze midair.
A strained smile replaced his focus. "I know. Don't worry about me, Luhan."
Once finished, he took Luhan's hand, helping him down from the stump, and together they began the walk home.
Their house was modest but warm, golden light spilling from its windows. As they stepped inside, their mother greeted them with a gentle smile.
"Natsuki, your father is in the basement. He wants to see you."
"Alright. I'm heading down now."
---
Later that afternoon, Natsuki found himself knocking on the door of a small hut at the village's edge.
"Who is it?" a voice asked cautiously.
"It's me."
After a brief pause — and a familiar rhythm tapped near the base of the door — it opened.
The woman who answered shimmered… and shifted, her form shrinking into that of a teenage girl with long brown hair, light hazel eyes, and a radiant smile.
She threw her arms around him.
"Happy early birthday! Can you believe it? Tomorrow we finally leave and travel like we always dreamed!"
He matched her excitement with a smile, though something heavy lingered beneath it.
Becoming an adventurer had always been his dream.
But he was the only recorded person in the nation without a mantra core — the inner source of mana that granted magic and defined one's power.
No matter how hard he trained, no matter how skilled he became in combat, that absence followed him like a shadow.
Still, he said nothing.
They spent the afternoon wandering the forest, laughing near a narrow stream as she shifted playfully into different forms and he dodged or sparred with mock seriousness.
By sunset, they returned to her cabin.
"I have something for you," she said, producing a small wrapped object.
"Open it."
Inside was a gold locket. When he unfolded it, two tiny portraits stared back — one of him, one of her.
Emotion tightened his chest. He pulled her into a firm embrace, and she melted into it.
After a long moment, they separated, both flushed.
"I should go… it's late," they said at the same time before breaking into laughter.
At the door, she hugged him once more.
"See you tomorrow, Natsuki."
"Be ready when I come in the morning, Aeola."
He waved and started down the quiet road.
Halfway home, a voice slipped from the shadows.
"Hey, kid. Come here."
Natsuki barely glanced over — until something caught his eye.
The man held out a ring.
For reasons he couldn't explain, his body stopped.
"You're interested now, aren't you?" the cloaked stranger said with a crooked smile.
Drawn closer, Natsuki frowned. "How much?"
"One silver. Old antique."
The coin changed hands. So did the ring.
The stranger watched him disappear down the road… and then melted into the darkness himself.
---
That night, Natsuki returned to a house filled with warmth and laughter. Family members gathered, food covered the table, and Luhan nearly tackled him with excitement.
"We threw you an early birthday party since you're leaving tomorrow!"
Emotion threatened to overwhelm him as arms wrapped around him from every direction.
They celebrated late into the night.
Exhausted, he finally collapsed onto his bed. As he shifted, something pressed against his side.
The ring.
"Oh… this thing."
Too tired to think twice, he slipped it onto his finger.
"Happy birthday to me," he mumbled before sleep claimed him.
Darkness followed.
Then a dream.
A jewel hovered before him — fractured by seven long cracks. From his body poured a brilliant white energy, searing and unstoppable. One crack began to mend.
Heat spread across his skin.
Pain followed — intense, transforming.
His body grew stronger. Taller. Sharper.
And somewhere far away, a deep, menacing laugh echoed.
The sound alone made his blood run cold.
At last, everything went black.
---
Elsewhere, inside a quiet inn, the cloaked man sat across from an elegantly dressed figure whose silver hair was perfectly combed, eyes reflecting whatever they beheld.
"Repeat yourself," the man said calmly.
"There was nothing else, I swear, Lord Draymond."
"Would you swear it on your collector's name?"
The cloaked man broke. "There was a damaged ring… but I sold it. It looked worthless."
"Oh," Draymond said, rising smoothly. "You sold it. Then you're free to go."
He handed over a heavy bag of gold — along with a neatly wrapped box.
Suspicion flickered, but greed won. The man opened it.
Inside was a mirror.
His reflection moved before he did, its lips forming silent words:
*Do you know what happens to those who fail me? Too bad no one ever survives to tell the tale.*
The reflection reached outward.
Darkness swallowed him as he entered the mirrors world.
Blades appeared from nowhere, striking again and again until his screams faded into silence.
The mirror shattered into dust.
Outside, fragments drifted past Draymond. He adjusted his hat with a look of indifference on his face and heaved a great sigh— and then his body began cracking and eventually exploded making him disappear into the night.