Dawn came too fast.
I woke in the spare room of Garret's contact—a narrow space with a straw mattress and a window that faced east. Sunlight sliced through like a blade.
My body screamed. Still. Two days of recovery and everything still hurt.
Two corrupted. Two kills. Worth it.
I dressed. The new clothes Mira gave me. The vest with pockets. The sparkstone, always warm now, always present.
Garret was already waiting when I stumbled outside. Two horses. One packed for travel. His one eye scanned me, judged me, found me acceptable enough.
"Move slow, get left behind." He tossed me a small loaf of bread. "Eat on the way."
I climbed onto the second horse. Barely. Almost fell off the other side. My legs didn't know what to do. My hands gripped the reins wrong.
Garret watched. Didn't help. Didn't laugh.
"You'll learn," he said. "Or you'll fall. Either way, the horse doesn't care."
He kicked his horse forward. Mine followed on instinct.
We rode.
---
Millbrook faded behind us. Small town with small dreams. Fields stretched ahead, green and gold under morning light. Then forest. Then hills. The road narrowed, turned to dirt, then to something less than dirt.
Hours passed.
My legs screamed. My back screamed. Everything screamed. I'd never ridden a horse in my old life. This body had never even seen one up close until three days ago. Every muscle protested.
"How much farther?" I asked. My voice cracked.
Garret pointed.
A cottage sat at the base of a hill. Small. Stone. Smoke rising from the chimney. Surrounded by trees that looked older than anything I'd ever seen.
And standing in the doorway, watching us approach, was a woman who made Garret look friendly.
Old. White hair pulled tight. Back straight as a sword. Wrinkled face with eyes that missed nothing. She wore simple robes—grey, worn—but stood like a general inspecting troops.
We stopped.
Garret dismounted. I tried. Fell. Caught myself. Stood.
The woman's eyes flickered. Not impressed. Not disappointed. Just... noting.
"This is the one?" Her voice was gravel and ice.
Garret nodded. "Ren. Mira sent him. He's got potential."
"Mira sends everyone with potential." She walked toward me. Slow. Deliberate. Stopped a foot away. Looked down.
I looked up.
Five feet of ancient, terrifying woman. Ten feet of presence.
"Show me," she said.
"Show you what?"
"Your spark. Now. Or go home."
I should have lied. Should have pretended confidence. Should have—
I didn't.
"I don't know how to control it yet."
Silence.
Garret shifted behind me. The woman's eyes narrowed.
"Explain."
I took a breath. Talked fast.
"Mira tested me with a sparkstone. It glowed—barely. She had me push heat from a burning stick. It worked once. Then on the road, when the corrupted attacked, I pushed again. Twice. It killed them but it almost killed me. I was unconscious for two days. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know how to make it happen on command. I just know it's there."
More silence.
The woman studied me like I was a book written in a language she barely remembered.
"You're honest," she said finally. "Stupid, maybe. But honest."
"Yes."
"And you want me to teach you?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
The question hung there. Simple. Massive.
Why did I want this? Why not go back to Valdris? Beg? Steal? Work cargo until my body broke? Why chase magic and danger and pain?
I thought about my old life. The nothing. The emptiness. The voice saying I never existed.
"Because I was nothing before," I said. "Absolutely nothing. I died and the world didn't notice. I want to be someone. Someone worth remembering. Someone people look up to." I met her eyes. "I don't know if magic is the way. But it's the first thing that's ever made me feel like I could be more than nothing."
The old woman stared at me for a long, long moment.
Then she turned to Garret.
"Forty silver. Three months. If he survives, you get first refusal on his services for one year. If he dies, you bury him."
Garret nodded. "Agreed."
She turned back to me. "Inside. Now. We start before you change your mind."
I didn't move.
"One more thing," I said. "Garret—can you tell Mira? She's expecting me back in a few days. I don't want her to worry."
Garret's eyebrow rose. But he nodded. "I'll send word."
The old woman—Elara—watched the exchange. Something shifted in her expression. Barely. But I caught it.
"You think about others," she said. "Unusual for someone your age. Unusual for anyone." She turned toward the cottage. "Follow. We have work."
I followed.
---
The cottage was bigger inside than out.
One main room with a fireplace, a table, two chairs. A pot hanging over the fire. Shelves covered in things I didn't recognize—dried herbs, glass bottles, scrolls, stones, bones.
Two doors. One open, showing a small bedroom. One closed.
"Your room." Elara pointed at the closed door. "Small. Cold. You'll survive."
She sat at the table. Gestured for me to sit across.
I sat.
"Three months," she said. "That's what your silver buys. In three months, you'll either have control or you'll be dead. There's no in-between with magic. No partial success. You master it or it burns through you."
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
New Quest: [ELARA'S TRIALS]
· Duration: 3 months (in-game time)
· Objective: Survive training. Gain basic magic control.
· Reward: Variable (based on performance)
· Penalty: Death (permanent)
I read the screen. Death. Permanent.
"Scared?" Elara asked.
"Yes."
"Good. Fear keeps you alive. Stupid courage gets you killed." She stood. Walked to the fireplace. Pulled a small knife from her robe. "Give me your hand."
I hesitated. Half a second. Then extended my hand.
She took it. Turned it palm up. Drew the knife across my skin—fast, shallow, just enough to bleed.
I flinched. Didn't pull back.
She watched the blood well up. Watched something else.
"Your spark reacted," she said. "When the blade cut. It tried to push. Defend. You didn't even notice."
I looked at my palm. The cut stung. But underneath the sting—warmth. The same warmth as the sparkstone.
"I didn't feel it."
"No. You wouldn't. Not yet." She released my hand. "That's your problem. Your spark acts on instinct—fear, pain, survival. But you can't control instinct. You can't aim it. You can't make it do what you want when you want."
She sat back down.
"First lesson: Magic is not emotion. Magic is will. Emotion triggers it. Will directs it. You have plenty of trigger. You have zero direction."
I nodded. Didn't fully understand. But nodded.
"We start tomorrow at dawn. Tonight, you eat, you sleep, and you think about one question." She leaned forward. "What do you want your magic to do? Not feel. Not trigger. Do. Answer that tomorrow or don't bother waking up."
[NEW QUEST: THE MAGE'S QUESTION]
· Objective: Answer Elara's question by dawn.
· Reward: 100 EXP + First Real Lesson
· Penalty: Training delayed (or worse)
I sat there, bleeding into my palm, staring at an old woman who'd just cut me without warning.
In my old life, I'd have run. Called her crazy. Found somewhere safer.
Now?
"Okay," I said. "I'll have an answer."
Elara almost smiled. Almost.
"Maybe you'll last the week after all."
---
That night, I lay in a cold room on a hard bed, staring at a ceiling I couldn't see.
What do I want my magic to do?
Protect me? That was survival, not purpose.
Kill enemies? That was revenge, not direction.
Make money? That was greed, not meaning.
I thought about my old life. The Uber driving. The girl who only wanted money. The parents who'd given up on me. The nothing at the end.
I thought about this life. Mira's kindness. Garret's rough respect. Vex calling me interesting. The corrupted falling when I pushed.
I thought about the academy. Noble kids with training and money and connections. Me, an orphan with a spark and a system.
What do I want my magic to do?
The answer came slow. Quiet. But once it arrived, it didn't leave.
I wanted my magic to make sure I never felt useless again. Not through power. Not through fear. Through choice. Through having options. Through being someone who could walk into any room and be seen.
I wanted to matter.
Dawn came. I found Elara by the fire.
"I have an answer," I said.
She looked up. Waited.
"I want my magic to give me choices. So I never have to watch life happen to me again. So I can choose my path instead of freezing until the road picks for me."
Elara was quiet for a long moment.
Then she nodded.
"Good enough. We start now."
She stood. Walked to the door. Opened it.
Outside, the sun was rising over the hills. Golden light. Fresh air. A world waiting.
"First lesson," she said. "Come outside. Leave your fear inside. You won't need it today."
I followed.