TORI REGLARD
I was awoken by the alarm I had set for 5:30. It was quiet, and I glanced at the boy on the other side of the room—Sunless Reglard. I looked around, eyes still dazed, as I tried to find something to wake myself up, but I decided to get up and wash my face before anything.
I sneakily hopped out the window and into our personal family training field. My dad, Eric Reglard, was a soldier in the City of Aspin, so he had access to something as luxurious as this field—which I conveniently used as if I had worked for it.
I stretched making sure all my muscles were ready to train early this morning. A few birds watched from the trees and observed me train as if it were some play at the theatre. I glanced at the birds and thought to myself: As difficult as a bird's life can become, they are the true meaning of freedom embodied.
I began warming up with 400 sword swings. I dreaded doing this every morning, but what could it hurt? I thought to myself, swinging my wooden blade at the log post, I was swinging my blade following the reglard flame sword style each individual strike made a loud thwacking noise at the speed I was going it begun too look like there we're three of me striking the log post with great speed and accuracy. 356 strikes in and I was tempted to take a break, but I began going faster—increasing the speed and accuracy of my strikes, refining my sword techniques, and enhancing my sword with mana. A technique I learned from my mom, Alice Reglard.
Her mana control was astonishing for someone who tended to stay out of combat. She had incredible control, but her mana reserves didn't exactly benefit her natural talent in that matter.
I continued to train as if I were the only one in the world, right now in this quiet morning with unwavering focus.
I was soon interrupted by an annoying message from the System. It governs all forms of action—it's like a game, I thought to myself when I saw it for the first time. But I was forced to get used to it over the years too come I always wondered what the system was or it's origin or perhaps who controlled it but I promised myself not to dwel on insignificant things such as a pop up window.
Usually, when the System gives me a message, it's when I receive a reward, obtain a special attribute, or get an achievement of
some sort. Well, the message today was a unique one—I had never seen it before:
[ The Primordial Observer That Loves to train is thrilled by your routine and has decided to tune into your Fable. ]
I was confused and shocked to believe a Primordial Observer was watching me?! I mean, I hadn't done anything worth mentioning to any Primordial Observer, so I was overjoyed.
I viewed the rank of my only viewer, and his rank was a little... disappointing, to be completely honest. He was only a Low-Tier Primordial Observer, but I was grateful I had one watching my Fable.
Fables are in a sense our existence. It's the meaning of our life. Our story. Our Fable can turn out to be many different things and gain plenty of achievements. These Primordial Observers are beings that reside in the Outer Realms. They have the privilege of watching us "lessers" Fables.
Fables are unique and usually have a name—but I have yet to acquire a Fable name. The name of one's Fable usually lets one know how their story will turn out. But I guess this Primordial Observer was interested in a nameless Fable such as myself.
[ Primordial Observer who Loves to train is smiling at you. ]
I let out an awkward grin and continued to train.
SUNLESS REGLARD
I was awoken earlier than I would've liked by my brother, Tori Reglard, and his relentless "training" to become an adventurer. I couldn't really blame him—we were both chasing the same dream, though he had more enthusiasm than I did.
Still, I pursued my own secret training.
Reluctantly, I got up and settled into a meditative position, focusing on refining my mana—shaping and manipulating it with as much precision as I could muster. I'd heard rumors that my mother was talented at this, and it turned out I'd inherited that ability, at least to some extent.
Glancing out the window, I watched Tori train. His wheat-blonde that resembled a sand like color hair fluttered in the wind, golden eyes sparkling with excitement. I sighed and forced myself to concentrate, my mana growing more refined with each breath.
My goal was to gain greater control—not just over my mana, but over my Authority: Stockpile
Unlike most, I hadn't inherited my Authority from my parents. Mine was unique—I could copy anyone's Authority and add it to a Stockpile of authorities with my current limit being ten. It was, frankly, overpowered. I kept waiting for some kind of catch.
And there was one.
During my awakening, the Primordial Observer of Malice branded me with the rare stigma of Cursed Fate. Apparently, my authority seemed unfair to him, so he cursed my luck. And that same day, I gained the name of my Fable:
"The Unluckiest Mortal." Which is rare for a fable to be revealed the day of awakening which happens at the age of 10.
It was disappointing, really, But even so, I wanted to train—to prove to this so-called Primordial Observer that his fate had nothing on my raw talent and combat power.
Or so I thought.
The loud thwacks of Tori striking the log post eventually woke everyone in the house—including me, who had somehow managed to doze off in the middle of training. "Slacker," echoed a familiar voice in my mind as the little furball of trouble stirred from her bed, Beatrice my mana beast companion. She stretched before she shot me a mockingly amused look.
"I wasn't slacking—I just, uh, dozed off for a bit. What time is it anyway?" I replied rubbing my eyes
Jumping up onto the nightstand, she pointed a tiny paw at the clock. "7:22?! Crap I'm going to be late for the academy!"