Stories of a Mage

Every story has a beginning. Mine, when I remember what I used to be, my mortality, it makes me laugh. Perhaps it's comical in its own way. Who in heaven could imagine or foresee what I would become?

Not even the craziest prophets, worthless heroes, sadistic gods, or magical deities beyond my comprehension could predict what I would become. Nor could I predict that my actions would lead me to something.....greater.

Repeating myself, every story has a beginning. Mine, as boring as it may be, starts with an introduction.

My name is Marcus Handel, twenty-two years old.

Nice to meet you all.

Back then, I considered myself an intelligent and ordinary person. I took pride in my quick thinking. My friends at work and at school praised me for it. They always said this and that, but in the end, they were exaggerating.

Of course, I liked it, every human enjoys being recognized for some skill or fact. Perhaps, I enjoyed compliments because I had grown up without a family and lived a somewhat solitary life.

When I think about it, perhaps it was the primary factor that shaped the personality I have today, or maybe not. Maybe I simply changed through my experiences in those worlds.

I don't have a particularly sad story like the protagonist of a manga or a typical Japanese novel. Of course, I had to make a bit more effort than other normal people. I had to mature earlier than anyone my age.

Still, I had a blessed life, as if the heavens were looking out for me. Full of friends, compliments, love from women... a good life. And despite being "mature," sometimes I was a complete idiot and what you could call a jerk when it came to women.

I had no regrets, except for the fact that I was poor. Not having enough money to have what I desire is a feeling that gnaws at my heart. Even to this day, despite all my changes, money is something essential. I can say that I crave gold like a man in the desert thirsts for water.

But back then, life wasn't as I wished it to be, yet I ran and fought for what I desired. That's how I lived my life, always working, always chasing opportunities for growth in my job. I was a hard worker despite all my flaws.

I thought I would spend my entire life working and getting rich.

Little did I know how wrong I was.

Everything changed on that March night, it was a Friday, maybe the 13th, I don't quite remember... some memories were like a distant dream to me.

It was almost midnight, the end of the work shift. I had stayed late for overtime "extra money, extra money, extra money", that was all I could think about that day. The office at night was an eerie place, worthy of a cheap horror movie, with rows of empty computers, flickering lights, and at the end of the hallway, just a small room where I suspected my boss was either sleeping or simply browsing unhealthy websites.

After finishing the reports, I walked to my boss's office. My boss was a middle-aged man, bald, with a belly so large it made him look like a pregnant pig.

"Boss, the reports and spreadsheets are ready. I've sent everything to your email," I said with a smile. "I'm heading out!"

"Oh, thank you for your hard work, Marcus!" he replied without looking at me. "Have a good rest."

Up until that moment, it had been an ordinary day. The long journey back home was uneventful, without any changes, until I reached a street near my house, that I had to pass on my way home. I didn't like that street, it was strange and had an excessively heavy atmosphere, as if there was something more to it.

But on that day, the feeling was suffocating, and I had the sensation of being watched. My footsteps echoed through the dark street, flanked by small houses and the distant barking of dogs on some other street

Behind me, there was an intense feeling that something was following me. I didn't hear any footsteps, but the sensation was strong. Summoning courage from who knows where, I turned around, searching for my silent follower.

Fortunately, there was nothing, just a gray-furred cat with big light brown eyes crossing the street and entering a house.

"I've been watching too many horror movies lately," I sighed in relief as my frantic heart calmed down. "If I'm this paranoid, I'll end up dead before becoming rich."

After laughing at myself for being a coward, I continued walking, but soon I stopped in my tracks, and my heart nearly leaped into my throat. At that moment, near a lamppost on the left side of the street, there was a dark-red, humanoid mist, like smoke from a volcano's mouth.

When it noticed my gaze, the red mist advanced, floating, and I could feel intense heat. I tried to flee, but I was too terrified, and my shaky legs wouldn't obey me. It was my end, that's what I thought, but then a second mist, white, radiating golden lights, appeared and attacked the dark-red mist.

The two supernatural entities battled each other on the street. The streetlights flickered incessantly, and the air became suffocating; I felt a crushing pressure, as if I were deep underwater.

I didn't have time to understand what was happening. The supernatural entities merged into a swirl of white and dark mist, hitting me, and passing through my body, and in that instant, I felt all strength leave my body. I collapsed to the ground powerless, and the entities disappeared into a dark oval rift that appeared in the middle of the street.

"Wh-what the hell just happened?", I screamed.

Feeling my heartbeats fading, my throat drying up, and sweat starting to pour all over my body. I knew it, I was dying.

My eyes couldn't tear away from the dark oval rift in the middle of the street. I had read books and even novels where similar events occurred. Despite it being right before my eyes, it was too surreal to believe.

"In my next life, I hope to be more resistant to these types of attacks..." I chuckled.

The moment I said that, a sweet and pleasant voice sounded in my mind.

>[Spiritual Resistance]acquired!.

At the moment of my death, someone was making jokes about me.

"But where did the voice come from?" I thought.

I could swear it was close, but I couldn't find anyone nearby.

Let's try again. "I would also like to... be a powerful Mage...".

>[High Magic Aptitude]acquired!.

The voice sounded again, and once more, I couldn't locate where it was coming from.

"What kind of joke is this?", with the little strength I had left, I whispered:

"No... need to chant... the magic...".

[No need for chanting]acquired!.

With that sweet and pleasant voice echoing in my head, I began to lose consciousness.

Before losing consciousness, I heard the voice speak once more.

>Magic: [Meteor] acquired from the [Fragment of Fire]!.

>Magic: [Tear of God] acquired from the [Fragment of Light]!.

I didn't know what was happening or where that voice was coming from. Today, I know the causes of what generated that mysterious event. But at that moment, I was confused and barely understood the forces behind the whole confusing and senseless event.

Then, I lost consciousness and died. That was the end of my life as Marcus Handel and the beginning of a new life as... something more.