His father studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Do not be late. There will be noise in the streets tonight."
"I will be careful," Lio said.
They left, moving toward the exit with the flow of people. He watched them go until they vanished in the crowd.
The ceremony hall felt huge and empty all at once.
Lio turned back toward the altar, now dim, the crystal's light low and soft. The priestess spoke quietly with some officials, her expression serious. A handful of students lingered, but most had already gone to celebrate, clustering in groups, laughing too loudly.
He could not stay here.
He walked out into the corridor, then out through the side doors into the wide stone courtyard behind the hall. The air outside was cooler, sharper, carrying the smell of the river and distant cooking fires.
The city climbed the hills around the central crystal tower, houses stacked like blocks of stone and wood. Sunlight glinted off distant windows.
Lio took a deep breath.
"Status," he whispered.
A translucent window flickered into existence in front of him, visible only to his eyes. White text on a faint blue background.
[Name]: Lio Faren[Age]: 16[Class]: Carrier (F)[Level]: 1[HP]: 20 / 20[MP]: 10 / 10[Strength]: 5[Agility]: 5[Vitality]: 5[Mind]: 8[Luck]: 4
He stared at the numbers, at the bare-bones layout. No skills listed, no fancy class abilities, no hidden panels.
It was exactly what he expected.
"I guess that is it," he said under his breath.
His chest hurt. Not the sharp pain of a wound, but the dull ache of something heavy placed there and left.
He could accept this.
He had to accept this.
He could find a job as a porter for a merchant caravan, maybe. Carriers could be useful there. Or work in the city's warehouses, hauling crates. It would not be glorious, but it would be safe. He could still help his parents. He could still eat.
He could still be alive.
So why did it feel like something inside him had died?
He closed the status window with a thought.
For just a heartbeat, before it vanished, he thought he saw something flicker at the bottom of the screen. A stray symbol, a glitch, a half-formed line.
But when he blinked, it was gone.
Probably nothing.
Probably just his imagination.
He looked up at the sky. The sun hung just past noon, bright and uncaring.
"Carrier, huh," he muttered. "Fine. I will figure something out."
He straightened his shoulders and started walking home, not knowing that the next time he opened his status, he would not be alone with it.
Not anymore.
The walk home felt shorter and longer at the same time.
Shorter, because Lio barely noticed the streets he had walked a thousand times. Longer, because each step seemed to sink deeper into the weight in his chest.
The city was already awake to the news. Word moved fast in Stonebridge, especially on Awakening Day. Groups of people stood at corners and in front of shops, talking, gesturing, comparing the ranks of their children and cousins and neighbors.
He heard Aria's name more than once.
"A-rank Elemental Knight—"
"Velnor's girl, yes—"
"Captain's blood, of course—"
Lio looked at the cobblestones instead.
Nobody said "F-rank Carrier" out loud where he could hear it, but he caught the sidelong glances from those who recognized him. Quiet, assessing, then quickly looking away as if embarrassed for him.
His family's house was on a sloping street near the lower market. Not poor enough for crumbling walls, not rich enough for painted shutters. Just gray stone and weathered wood, smoke curling from the chimney.
Lio paused at the door, hand resting on the latch, and took a breath.
Inside, his parents were waiting at the table.
His mother had put out bread and cheese and a small pot of stew that smelled like onions and whatever meat had been cheapest that morning. She stood when he came in, wiping her hands on her apron like she needed something to do.
"How was the walk?" she asked, as if they didn't both know the real question.
"Fine," Lio said.
His father sat with his arms folded, eyes tracking him. His expression hadn't changed much since the hall. Calm. Maybe too calm.
"Sit," his father said.
Lio sat.
His mother fussed with the bowls, even though they were already neatly set. "You should eat something."
"I am not very hungry," Lio said.
"That is when you eat," his father replied. "You will need strength."
For what, Lio didn't ask.
They ate in uneven silence. His mother tried twice to start talking about normal things—the price of root vegetables that week, the neighbor's new goat—but both times the words trailed off and died.
Finally, his father set his spoon down with a soft clack.
"Listen, Lio," he said. "We cannot change the class."
Lio stared at his stew. "I know."
"The System gives what it gives," his father went on. "Some get swords. Some get magic. Some get strong backs. We do not spit on any of it. We use what we have."
That was the kind of thing he'd always said. When harvests were thin or work was scarce, it had been their family's version of prayer.
Use what you have.
"I do not know what work there is for a Carrier," his father admitted. "Not yet. But carriers are needed in caravans. In storage houses. On expeditions. It may not be the life you wanted. It will still be a life."
His mother's eyes shone with tears she refused to let fall. "We will talk to Uncle Jorin," she said quickly. "He works with the river traders. They always need strong hands to load boats. And maybe there is some mistake. Maybe the priestess can—"
"The priestess cannot," Lio's father said. "She made that clear."
His mother flinched. "We have to try something."
"We will not beg the System to reconsider," he said, voice rougher than before. "We will adapt. That is what we do."
He was trying to sound steady. To be a rock. Lio knew him well enough to hear the crack underneath.
"I am sorry," Lio said.
Both of them looked at him, startled.
"You have nothing to apologize for," his mother said immediately. "You did nothing wrong."
"You went," his father said. "You placed your hand on the crystal. You accepted what came. That is all anyone can do."
"It is still… me," Lio said. "If I had been stronger, or if I had trained differently, or—"
"You cannot train your way into bloodline," his father said bluntly. "You are not a noble. You are not the child of a famed mage. The System already leans toward those with power and influence, they say. You being born where you were, and still awakening at all… that is enough."
Lio didn't agree, but he didn't argue.
His mother reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "We love you," she said. "Carrier, C-rank, no rank at all. That does not change."
He swallowed. "I know."
He did know. That part was solid, at least. Whatever the world thought of him, this small house would still have a place for him.
It just felt… smaller now.
"I think I will go to my room," he said, when his bowl was empty enough that they wouldn't insist he eat more.
His parents exchanged a look, some silent conversation passing between them. Then his father nodded. "We will let you rest," he said. "But do not stay locked up for days. That is not our way."
"I won't," Lio said.
He climbed the narrow stairs to his room.
The room was small: a bed against one wall, a wooden chest at its foot, a rickety desk pushed under the window, shelves lined with books he'd collected or borrowed and never quite managed to return. Class tables. Skill compendiums. Old exam scrolls from the academy.
They looked different now. All those pages, all that knowledge, aimed at a future that had just been quietly taken away.
He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, eyes closed.
For a few minutes, he did nothing at all.
Then habit and curiosity nudged past the ache. He pushed himself away from the door and sat on the bed.
"Status," he said.
The translucent window blinked into existence, familiar now, hanging in the air at eye level.
[Name]: Lio Faren[Age]: 16[Class]: Carrier (F)[Level]: 1[HP]: 20 / 20[MP]: 10 / 10[Strength]: 5[Agility]: 5[Vitality]: 5[Mind]: 8[Luck]: 4
He studied the numbers again, because that was what he knew how to do.
Strength, Agility, Vitality: all low. Below average for a fresh adventurer. Mind was a bit higher—no surprise there—but not enough to matter. Luck was… unimpressive.
He gestured mentally, trying to bring up a details panel. A small triangle icon pulsed next to his class name.
He focused on it.
A sub-window opened.
[Class: Carrier (F)]Basic support class.Specialization: Transport and burden management.Growth Potential: Very Low.Innate Effects:– Slight increase to maximum carrying capacity.– Slight decrease to fatigue gained while carrying items.
No active skills unlocked.