Prolugue

I remember the day I found myself in this world, my head aching and my memories fuzzy. Waking up in a burrow made from stacked trash, I couldn't even move nor speak. My body felt so weak, like it was dying and eating itself at the same time.

It was only an hour later that I found the strength physically and mentally to at least sit up and look at my surroundings. As much as I wanted to say I was shocked when I saw my body, that of a skinny 9 year old, I didn't even have the energy to be shocked.

All that was on my mind was food, anything to just stop the intense hunger I felt. It took me 5 minutes to just get out of the hole, finding myself in a street filled with endless trash. The thought that I would be able to find something to eat in it caused me both intense delight and disgust.

I salvaged the streets for hours, or what felt like it, my hope getting crushed every second passing by. I didn't even took notice of my surroundings, of people laying on the street, some alone, some with families, all looked at me with dead eyes, they didn't speak, but they were telling me that it was pointless and that we would all die.

Eventually, I ran out of the little energy I had, blobbing on the street and hugging my knees. The hunger was driving me insane, making me lose my sanity.

For hours, I slept like that on the trash filled ground, the sun's light was dimming, and I was barely conscious. Nobody gave me a second look. I probably thought I was dead, and I knew some wanted to eat me.

Then my chance at life appeared, a tiny chance that if I missed it, I wouldn't see the light of the day again. How incorrect and right was I at that time. It was a group of men, 4 or 5, and I barely registered they were there.

I don't remember what happened next, all I remember is my limb body getting dragged and carried away on to a carriage, a rocking motion for what felt like hours, and then I remember finding myself wolfing on some disgusting raw meat.

I wanted to puke and cry, yet at this time, all I felt was the satisfaction of quenching my intense hunger. Once I was done, a man came, ripped the rags I was wearing from my body, and drenched me in cold water.

The next scene that I witnessed still haunts my nightmares, I saw an altar, a sacrificial altar, a young body being dragged of it, and me getting carried on top of it. No matter how much I tried, I couldn't muster resistance, my body not listening to me.

I resigned to my fate as I saw them perform their psychotic ritual before one of them came to my body, a dagger in his hands.

SWOOSH!

As the dagger was entering my chest, the man's hand and entire body were sliced in cube meats, including the dagger, leaving a large chip of it in my chest.

I couldn't see what happened next. All I heard was screams, ones of anger and despair, before everything quieted down. Then I saw a man wearing a gold armour dripping with blood entering my vision.

I remember his look clearly even now after all these years, It was emotionless. He didn't feel any pity whatsoever to me dying.

He didn't stay long, as another figure entered my vision, she was dressed like a nun, worry on her face, she tried to comfort me, before she took out the chip stuck on my chest. The pain I felt was excruciating, but I couldn't even react to it.

A few seconds passed before the pain slowly began disappearing. The nun smiled at me, giving me reassurance that I would live. I don't remember her exact details, but I knew she was older, a middle-aged woman. And I knew she was beautiful. She gave that feeling, at least in my heart and head.

I fell unconscious after that and woke up in a bed in an orphanage funded by the church. My life after that was peaceful. My stomach was half filled most of the time, and I had got accustomed to living in this new world I found myself in.

It was a magic world filled with mosters, beasts, and magical people. The nuns of the church would sometimes come to our orphanage, speak and play with the kids, and sometimes I saw them take away older girls and boys, those I would estimate 12 or 13 years old.

I found out later that they were being accepted into the church and will become men and women of faith. Those chosen are said to be blessed by god, or so said, the orphanage manager, who was a retired nun of the church.

I didn't really believe such a thing at first, But the more I saw the healing magic the nun manager performed whenever a kid is hurt, the more I believed that there was a god in this world.

But I felt as if there was something wrong going on. It was this hunch that I was being manipulated, so I started to read the books in the orphanage. Most of them were related to god, prayers, and legendary heroes of the church, though they didn't interest me the slightest. It only made me more wary. The thought that I was being brainwashed was repeating in my mind as I saw the actions of the nun and the effect it had on the children.

In just one year, all the children acted like devout believers, doing daily prayers, only talking about the day they would be chosen. I stayed clear of those children, eventually becoming a loner.

When I was twelve, I was taken to the church, where they said that I would be tested if I was chosen by god. The process was fairly simple, I had to drink some sort of water from a bowl, which caused my stomach and heart to burn slightly.

But nothing significant happened. The priest just nodded and said 'Next'. I was taken away, and back to the orphanage, where the manager nun talked with the guy I assume would be called an acolyte.

The nun just said thanks to the acolyte, turning to face me with a disappointed look. A year passed with no major development to my life, and I still didn't know what to do with myself, doubt and anxiety filling my days, and nightmares about the day I was rescued becoming more frequent.

At this point, I had learned how to read and write the common tongue that everybody spoke, I knew my chances of a better life could be increased if I was at least a literate person.

I assumed I wasn't blessed by this god or something, and with no information from the real outside world, my dream of wielding magic was getting crushed, and I began to resign to the fate of living a normal mortal life again.

Since I was an older kid now, whenever the manager nun and the workers were busy with something, I would be called for an errand, mostly to buy groceries.

It was such a day that I found a group of men wearing the same identical robes and holding expensive and magical looking staff passing through the street.

All the people gave them a wide path, walking away uninterrupted. I was shocked when I heard some of the people close to me pointing at the men and saying things like, "What are mages doing in this place?"Are they tracking a demon spawn?" and such.

I thought that this world worked on the fate power system and that this god was the supreme ruler of this world. And since I wasn't chosen, I would be a normal person for the rest of my life.

'How stupid and short sighted of me', I thought at the time. For the next months, I confirmed the existence of mages was true, and I found more info on the outside world than I ever did when I was cooped up in the orphanage.

My hunch was true, this god was a fake god, he wasn't supreme, he didn't even give blessings- no I found out it was called talent, the talent in wielding mana, the natural energy of the world. What was being tested was not the blessing the god gave to children, but the talent of wielding mana, some children were born with.

From my searching, I confirmed it was a true magic world, with mages and knights existing, fighting monsters and other races for whatever reason. Then I learnt of the magic schools, and how they trained children with talent into mages and knights.

I thought that the books in the orphanage that told the heroic slaying of monsters were a fairy tale, but it seems there was some truth to it.

I asked the manager nun if I had the talent, but she didn't even bat an eye at me, she said, "You have only above average talent, you won't even reach the first rank if you think you can become a Knight, let alone a Mage." she knew what I was planning. She was always like that, able to see through the children's troubles and questions with just a look.

In a book I found during my hunt for information, it explained the general things about magic, including the ranks.

The ranks were something mages and knights measured the path of their advancement and achievement in the field of magic and battle techniques.

Mages used spells, powerful abilities that cause devastating damage when ever casted. Knights used something called battle techniques, their version of spells. The battle techniques could be deployed at a moments notice, unlike the magic spells that required time and focus to be cast.

It also listed the ranks of mages as such:

'Rank 0 = Apprentice Mage' are those that just started walking down the mage path, able to use low-level spells only.

'Rank 1 = Mage' are those who have learned to use and cast 5 mid level spells and 1 high-level spell.

'Rank 2= Adept Mage' are those who graduated from the magic schools and are able to use and cast 15 mid level spells and 5 high-level spells.

'Rank 3 = Master Mage' are those who gained experience in warfare and having a great deal of knowledge, specializing in a specific field of magic to a high level.

'Rank 4= Grand Mage' are those specialized in 2 and up to 5 magic fields to a high level, able to use a majority the spells categorized in that field, and being high level academics or researchers in their field.

'Rank 5 = Arch Mage' are those highly skilled and knowledgeable everything related to magic, have made significant contributions to their magical fields. Have attained mastery over multiple branches of magic.

Just from reading this simplified version of the ranks, I nearly orgasmed, metaphorically speaking. Imagining what I could accomplish once I reach the Arch Mage rank made me itching that I haven't already started walking on the mage path.

There was also a simplified version of the Knight path, but I was reluctant to walk it since the danger level is higher in my eyes. All i'm interested in is living an easy and comfortable life; not a life filled with battle and strife.

Rank 0 = Squire, a beginner Knight.

Rank 1 = Knight: able to use 5 mid level combat techniques and one high-level battle technique.

Rank 2 = Knight Bachelor: graduated, able to use 10 mid level combat techniques, and 5 high-level battle techniques.

Rank 3 = Knight Banneret: experienced in warfare, specializing in a specific battle or combat techniques to a high level, leading 100 knight bachelors under his own banner.

Rank 4 = Knight Commander: developed their set techniques to a high level, leaders of small armies up to 50,000 soldiers, 1000 knight Bachelors, and 10 Knight Banneret.

Rank 5 = Knight Marshal: highly distinguished in warfare, perfect use of their respective set techniques, generals of armies, managing and organizing up to 10 armies and their knight commanders.

The ranks of spells and battle techniques were easy enough to understand at least in power levels. Low-level spells and battle techniques were something only apprentices and squires used. Middle level spells and battle techniques were the average power level of mages and knights. High-level spells and battle techniques were the true power that the magic paths provided.

'Beyond this level, an individual has to venture on his own path.' This was written as the last sentence of the book. Some parts were hard for me to understand, but I didn't give it more time since I ran to the nun manager once I finished reading it.

I refused to listen to her words. Now that I found a good chance of being able to wield magic, I made it my goal to find out and do the things needed in order to be accepted into a magic school.