Rise of Tyrus

A dilapidated shack occupied a small section of the forest. The builder responsible had disowned it long before, leaving it open for any living being to become its holder. During Tyrus’ travels between villages, he made certain that there was no evidence of recent usage when he first discovered it. Believing it was free, he settled there. It did its job to protect him from heavy rain and beasts.

Approaching the front, he carefully opened the door, taking his time. Inside the cramped space, all that greeted him was a simple straw bed and a worn-out desk. Scattered across the surface were a handful of items, including a wooden box and bowls with spoons. Tyrus checked carefully and didn't see any signs of a break-in, so he felt relieved.

“Okay, you can come in now,” he said. The two of them leisurely entered the abode, and Wanderer positioned herself in the corner quietly. “You can lie down on my bed if you want. It's not much, but...”

“Thank you for the kind offer, but I shall stand. I am a guest of your home, and I would deem it rude to sit in your place of comfort.”

Tyrus did nothing about it and sat on the pile of straw. It was mostly uncomfortable just laying on it because of the straw pricking the skin, but he got used to it. The bed provided him with warmth and some level of comfortability. He had never slept on a more convenient bed and resolved to never take it for granted. Sleeping on a wooden floor with no protection had given him an awful ache in his shoulders that took many moons to get through.

Instead of stalling more than he needed to, Tyrus thought it was best to just say what was on his mind. “That was magic you used on those two, right?”

Wanderer averted her gaze away from the table and peered at Tyrus. “Are you perhaps interested in becoming a sorcerer?”

Tyrus enthusiastically nodded his head, his curiosity piqued by the ways of magic. It reminded him of the first time he had witnessed such a spectacular event just last year.

He pursued shelter in a small, abandoned village to rest from his travels. It was there that he heard a commotion outside, prompting him to climb up a ladder inside a barn and peer through the second-floor. His eyes widened as he caught sight of a cluster of carriages, their surfaces gleaming like white pearls. What caught his attention even more was the unfamiliar crest adorning their sides: a black snowflake against a pristine white backdrop. The presence of armored guards on horseback surrounding the carriages only heightened Tyrus's suspicion that someone of great importance must be inside. Only those with money rode carriages, from what he remembered.

The group was being attacked by a pack of beasts, specifically lesser hounds. The creatures were wolves possessing tangled black fur and eyes that gleamed like rubies. Tyrus had a run-in with a pack before and barely escaped. It required climbing a tree and waiting until the lesser hounds lost interest.

The men in front of him had opted for the opposite approach and brought out their swords to deal with the threat. Just as they were about to run forward and fight against the lesser hounds, the door of the carriage flung open, and out came a snow-white hand. What emerged from the vehicle was not a person, but a luminous light emitted from their palms, which ejected a plethora of ice shards. The crystals bombarded the lesser hounds, and their pained yelps slashed the air. Once the beasts flopped to the side, the white hand retracted and the carriage door shut.

From that day on, the beautiful display that brought to mind snowflakes descending gently amazed Tyrus. He even dreamed of commanding such power. His life would be much easier if he could use magic. With just a flick of a finger, he could create his very own fire or drinkable water!

Wanderer watched Tyrus for a moment, unmoving, until her lips curled. “Your enthusiasm is commendable. How well-versed are you in the subject of mana?”

“I know nothing about it.”

Wanderer nodded and sank to the ground to sit. Tyrus could’ve sworn he heard the jingle of jewelry. “Mana is an omnipresent natural energy. It is a divine power that a goddess, Sthito, has blessed us with; a power none take lightly and a gift that allows one to channel mana and allows the user to use magical arts. The predominant type of sorcerers are the Elemental Sorcerers, those who possess the ability to manipulate elements, including fire, water, earth, air, and others.”

Tyrus’s eyes burned as he had forgotten to blink. He was not aware that there were different sorcerers, other than simply manipulating an element. Interest on the subject catapulted, and he asked Wanderer a question.

“I saw someone shoot ice out of their palms. Were they an Elemental Sorcerer?”

“If they can control ice, then it can be assumed that they have fine control over water. Other elements exist apart from the common four.”

Tyrus scooted closer. “How do I use magic, then? I feel like it’d be cool to summon fire out of my hands!”

The figure chuckled at his eagerness. “If you want to become a sorcerer, you must first be fortunate enough to be blessed to harness such power. There are many methods to verify such trivial matters. An experienced sorcerer like myself can detect Sthito’s blessing with a single touch.”

Wanderer beckoned Tyrus forth with a gesture. At first, he flinched, but his anticipation of learning magic had overcome his senses. He extended his arm slowly, palms upward. The cloaked figure nodded and placed her hands on top of his. They both sat there in silence.

While Wanderer was busy, Tyrus’ thoughts drifted. He wondered what element he would awaken to if he had the blessing of Sthito within him. It would be preferable to be a water sorcerer. Getting drinkable water wouldn’t be a concern for him. There was also fire to think about, too. No need to manually labor to create a working fire whenever the nights grew cold…

“As expected,” Wanderer said as she pulled her hand back.

Tyrus shot up, face etched with worry. “Expected? What do you mean by that?”

“…What I mean is you have the blessing of Sthito.”

Upon hearing the good news, Tyrus’ lips trembled. It was the first time in a while good fortune had fallen on top of him. He heard whispers from townsfolk that those who become well-known sorcerers were usually well-off, living in manors and swimming in wealth. They lived leisurely, as they held no fear of running out of sil and gold. Sleeping in beds as soft as sheep’s wool and wearing a range of clean garments that provided comfort. Best of all, however, was that famed sorcerers lived in the capital of Lethos: Valis.

Valis ranked among the wealthiest cities in Dharmere, a place envied for its towering marble buildings and intricate architecture. It was a city most commoners dreamed of inhabiting, hoping to steal a singular glance at the esteemed city. The townsfolk’s description had enthralled Tyrus, and he had always wanted to see the city up close. Knowing there was potential to be a sorcerer, the dark tunnel he wandered through had a faint, mesmerizing light at its end.

That light faded quickly after Wanderer spoke again. “Becoming a sorcerer isn’t easy, child. I have simply stated that you have received the blessing of Sthito. Though the news is excellent, I advise you not to raise your expectations for widespread recognition. I am afraid that your blood might lead to ostracism and hinder your skills from matching those of your peers.”

Tyrus immediately pulled his cap down, nearly obscuring his eyes. A suffocating air permeated throughout the shabby building. For a few moments, Tyrus had already forgotten what he was. His heart grew as heavy as a sack of rocks as he thought back to those men from earlier. They had been so cruel as soon as they caught sight of his ears and claws. If those two treated him like dirt, then what about the rest? Much worse would be done to him, unless…

The fire in his heart rekindled once more. “As long as they don’t see my ears, it’ll be okay. I’ll just have to be careful of my actions and everything will be all right. It’s just as you said: do whatever is necessary to secure a safe and bright future for yourself. I don’t want to live like this anymore. I want to be treated the same as anyone else! If becoming a sorcerer will accomplish my goals, then hiding my ears is easy compared to what lies ahead.”

Wanderer smiled. “I can see your iron-clad resolve through your eyes. The sight of those eyes reminds me of... Nevermind. Very well, young child. Rest assured that I will do all that I can to assist you in your struggle.”

Tyrus smiled from ear to ear. “T-Thank you very much! When will we start?"

“There is a necessity for things to be arranged in order. The first step to embarking on your journey is to awaken to mana. Different creatures exhibit diverse patterns of awakenings. Certain people awaken early, whereas others require a lengthier period. Your hybrid status makes it particularly difficult to determine your awakening. How old are you, child?”

“…Tyrus,” he said under his breath.

“Hm?”

“My name is Tyrus. You didn’t know my name, so I thought it’d be easier than calling me child… If you don’t want to call me that, then it’s fine. I don’t mind.”

Wanderer nodded slowly. “Okay, Tyrus. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Although I would be pleased to reveal my name, I am unable to do so for personal reasons. I hope you understand.”

“It’s fine. You’ve done so much for a stranger like me. I wouldn’t dare overstep my boundaries. Also, to answer your question, I think I’m around nine.”

“Hm… I estimate you have met the threshold. Beastfolk awaken at seven, while for humans it’s at eleven. Given your Demi-human status, we can infer that the age range falls within those parameters. Please lie on your back, Tyrus.”

He complied with the request and reclined on his straw bed. Wanderer shuffled over and sat right in front of Tyrus, looming over him. “I would like to verify something before we begin. Have you encountered or sensed mana yet? The energy is as white as snow and evokes a tingling sensation all over the body.”

Tyrus shook his head. Mana was something he never felt. Until now, he was not familiar with the term. His knowledge was extremely limited to that sort of topic. He was a kid who lacked a formal education and had been solitary for as long as he could recall. Regarding that, it’s a wonder he survived for so long by himself. His past was a complete mystery to him, yet he didn’t dwell on it too much. Figuring out how to survive the next day took most of his brain power.

“It’s important to know the procedure you are about to undergo may cause significant discomfort, if not pain. Typically, those blessed would naturally perceive mana. In your case, we will hasten the process. As a result, there is a possibility that your body may incur damage, and your chances of becoming a sorcerer diminish. Do you wish to continue or delay?”

Tyrus nodded at Wanderer’s warning. The decision was made upon the discovery of his potential. No amount of persuasion could sway him. “I want to start as soon as possible. I’m ready, Wanderer.”

Without being told twice, the figure lowered her arm and placed a palm on Tyrus’ chest. The room gradually fell silent, and Tyrus could only discern external sounds as he kept his eyes closed.

Leaves whistling in the faint breeze and birds crying out from the tops of trees echoed through the walls. He could even hear Wanderer’s breathing, one that was calm and rhythmic. After a few moments had passed, a numbing pain occupied his heart. That feeling soon turned into a pinch, and then one akin to a slap on the cheek. His fingers trembled, and he clenched his jaw. He felt his own skin heat up as the bumping of his heart increased. Some parts of his tunic had even felt damp. Besides the discomfort and agony, he sensed something different. He experienced a strange power taking over his body.

A blazing pain that he had never felt before hit his chest. Tyrus wished to plead with Wanderer to halt, feeling he had made a terrible error that made him want to cry. Though he wanted to yield, he bit his tongue in retaliation. He promised them he was ready- that he would commit to whatever was necessary.

Shaking away negativity, he redirected his thoughts to something else. The benefits of learning magic were on his mind. If he became proficient enough, he’d be able to earn sil from hunting beasts. With enough money, he’d be able to purchase his own fresh goods without worrying whether it’d make him sick. The sweet, tantalizing taste of fortune was on the tip of his tongue, and he wouldn’t let some pain deter him. Tyrus tried to think of more positive thoughts, but the pain was too much for him. It had spread all throughout his body. He felt himself losing consciousness- briefly fearing death before becoming a sorcerer. At the very moment he was about to faint, a soothing voice snapped him awake.

“You can open your eyes now, Tyrus.”

Immediately, his eyes flung open, and he sat upright, clamping his chest. Tears streamed down the corners of his eyes, and black spots danced along the edges. When he glanced up, a breathtaking sight befell him. Surrounding Wanderer were a pillar of white particles as blinding as peering into the sun. To save himself from becoming blind, Tyrus looked away. The burning sensation in his chest subsided and replaced with a soothing sensation that poured through his veins. Amidst all of that, a new feeling had crept into his body, one that contained a power he had felt before.

“The fact that you turned away your gaze shows you see the mana revolving around me. Congratulations, Tyrus. You may now begin your journey as a sorcerer.”

Tyrus would love to jump up with glee and thank the figure profusely, but a splitting headache had prohibited him from moving. Unable to bear it any longer, he collapsed onto the straw bed as his eyelids became heavy. The last thing he saw was the smiling face of Wanderer, and a hand caressing his forehead.