I'm not a goblin: Mythology of the Mana

The blaring alarm pierced through the air, shattering the tranquility of the morning. Its intrusive noise jolted Oric from his restless sleep, leaving him disoriented and groggy. His tired eyes struggled to focus as he fumbled to silence, his frustration growing with each passing second.

"Argh! That damn alarm again. I know it's morning!" Oric grumbled, his voice laced with annoyance. Rising from his bed, he felt the weight of exhaustion weighing him down. He stumbled, his body unsteady, and crashed onto the unforgiving floor, emitting an audible thud.

Pain shot through his body. He winced, his hand instinctively moving to his heart, the source of his lingering sorrow. "Curse this floor... Wait, what am I even doing? I sound crazy right now," Oric muttered to himself, his voice a low murmur. Gingerly, he picked himself up from the ground, the weariness etched on his face.

Dragging himself to the bathroom, Oric splashed his face with cold water, hoping to shake off the remnants of his restless slumber. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, searching for any semblance of a smile but finding none. Deep within his sea-blue eyes, the windows to his tormented soul, lay the remnants of a broken spirit.

Today was his first day at the prestigious University of Tedrune, a place that held the promise of intellectual pursuit and new beginnings. Yet, Oric couldn't escape the pervading sense of loneliness that clung to him like a shadow. Despite his academic achievements and winning a coveted scholarship, a void gnawed at his heart.

Why did he feel this way? The origins of his sorrow traced back to a tragic past. Oric's birth had been marred by devastation—an attack by Sentic users (humans with special abilities) on the hospital claimed the lives of his parents in a cruel explosion. Raised by his grandparents until their eventual passing, Oric had witnessed the fragility of life firsthand.

But it was the loss of his beloved, grandparents, that haunted him the most. the memories lingered like a specter, a constant reminder of how easy it is to lose than to gain. The echoes of their voices and his promise to them haunted his every waking moment, making it hard to find solace in the world without them.

His grandparents, the pillars of strength in his life, had offered him solace and guidance. They had seen him through the darkest hours, and in their presence, he found a glimmer of hope. They had encouraged him to embrace the unique gift bestowed upon him by his parents—the power within his sea-blue eyes, the ability to perceive the energy that flowed around him.

Yet, Oric's resentment toward his own abilities persisted. While others admired his eyes, he despised them. They were a constant reminder of his losses and the pain that consumed him. At times, he had even contemplated removing them, seeking release from the burden they represented. But his grandmother's gentle touch and her words of wisdom had stayed his hand.

*******

"Grandson, don't resent the last gift your mother left you," she had whispered, her voice filled with love and understanding. Her touch had conveyed the depths of her care and the importance of embracing one's own uniqueness.

"Yes, they were her gift from me too. So, cheer up, my boy. Don't let yourself break like that, okay? The eyes you possess are the eyes of a fighter who perseveres against all odds, so don't be afraid to use them" his grandfather had reassured him, his voice resonating with paternal warmth and strength.

Overwhelmed by emotions, Oric found solace in the arms of his grandparents, tears streaming down his face. "I'm sorry, Grandpa and Grandma," he had whispered, his voice choked with sorrow and regret.

"Don't apologize, my child. You can cry in our arms for as long as you need, but you have to make a promise to use" his grandmother had comforted him, her voice a soothing balm to his wounded soul.

"Son, we need you to make a promise" Oric lifted up his head to respond "what promise grandma"

"We want you to promise us that whether the road is thin or you read a dead end never think of killing yourself or giving up to death" she said

"promise to never allow death to take you " grandpa added

Oric looking into both their eyes and facial expressions smiled "yes, grandma and grandpa, I promise to always fight death."

"Ok my son" she said and went on to sing a song for Oric that she had always been singing to put him to sleep. 

*********

The memory of that embrace, the last he would share with them, weighed heavily on Oric's heart as he prepared to face the world outside. With a heavy sigh, he offered his prayers before the pictures of his parents and grandparents, seeking their guidance and strength.

Bracing himself, Oric set off for the university, traversing the bustling streets of Vendage. The town hummed with life, its vibrant energy pulsating through the air. Metiuc people hurried past, their faces, while the ever-watchful guardians-maintained order and security. Sentic users, with their mystical powers, moved among the crowd, a constant reminder of the extraordinary abilities hidden within ordinary people.

Lost in his thoughts, Oric navigated the chaotic streets, his footsteps carrying him toward the university. As he crossed a busy road, his heart skipped a beat as he noticed an enormous truck hurtling towards him, its roaring engine drowning out all other sounds. Fear rooted him in place, panic coursing through his veins.

"I'm..., about..., to die. I can't move, what..., should I do?" Oric's distressed thoughts echoed in his mind, a desperate plea for salvation.

In that moment of despair, fate intervened. A young girl, like a guardian angel, leaped in front of him, her swift action pushing him out of harm's way just in time. The truck thundered past. Its gust of wind brushing against Oric's face, a chilling reminder of the danger he had narrowly escaped.

Stunned, Oric remained rooted to the spot, his eyes fixed on the girl lying on the ground, clutching her sprained ankle. She was a vision of beauty, her features delicate yet resolute. Her form-fitting jogging outfit accentuated her curves, and her silky dark hair cascaded around her face like a curtain of midnight. Oric's breath caught in his throat as he beheld her, momentarily lost in his thoughts.

"She's stunning. Wait, what am I thinking? I should thank her for saving my life first...." Oric's mind wandered, a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts colliding within him. He shook himself from his reverie, extending a hand to help her up.

"Um, sorry. So, what's your name?" Oric asked, his voice betraying a hint of nervousness, a subtle tremor that mirrored his inner turmoil.

"I'm Sarah," she replied, her voice gentle and soothing. Oric studied her face, searching for any trace of deception or ulterior motive, but found none. Instead, he sensed kindness and compassion emanating from her.

By the way, could you please call a taxi for me? My ankle is sprained, and I need to get to the hospital," Sarah requested, her voice tinged with pain.

Oric's expression turned anxious as he responded, "Taxi? I... I didn't bring any money. What do I do? What..." His words trailed off, his mind once again consumed by worry and uncertainty.

"Don't worry, I'll pay," Sarah reassured him, her voice filled with kindness. Oric's anxiety eased, replaced by gratitude and relief. He quickly ordered a taxi and assisted her inside, ensuring her comfort.

Just as the taxi began to pull away, Oric mustered the courage to voice his gratitude, his voice filled with genuine sincerity. "Um, Sarah, could I have your phone number? I'd like to thank you properly for everything. You see, I don't have money right now, so..."

A warm smile graced Sarah's lips as she replied, "It's okay, I understand. Here's my number. I hope to see you soon."

The taxi whisked Sarah away to the hospital, leaving Oric standing there, watching as the car disappeared from sight. The surge of joy he initially felt faded into the background, overshadowed by a cloud of uncertainty that had plagued him for so long. A lingering question nagged at him—would this encounter bring him the solace he sought, or was it just another fleeting moment of connection in a cruel world?

As Oric pondered this, a sense of heaviness settled over him. The collision with the truck had left him feeling numb, emotionally detached from the world around him. But amidst the emptiness, a flicker of curiosity ignited within him—a desire to understand himself, to uncover the depths of his own shadowed existence, why his life felt like a cursed.

As oric started to continue his journey a colossal fridge with the brand name "Reincarnation", inscribed on it came crushing down on him.

"Am I... dead?" Oric's thoughts whispered, the question echoing through his mind. An unexpected twist of fate did not escape him. It seemed like a cruel joke, a mocking reminder of his own struggle to find meaning in a world that felt devoid of purpose.

As darkness encroached upon his senses, Oric embraced the unknown, ready to face whatever lay beyond. Whether it be a new beginning or an end to his lonely journey, he was prepared to confront his demons and discover the truth that eluded him for so long.

End of chapter 1