The Bones of an Empire

A king. The sovereignty of his land. The mighty King Archias managed to claim all of these things. Men feared him, and the dead obeyed him.

'Where…' Archias thinks to himself, unable to speak, he looks around. An Inky black void the only thing around him. Alone and uncertain, he floats aimlessly. A faint twinkle in the endless darkness catches his attention. With nothing else around and no other options, he reaches for a glimpse of hope.

'I'm a king! I won't die like this!' Archias thinks to himself as the light gets closer. Desperately he reaches out to the light, grabbing it tightly in his intangible hand. A bright light fills his vision, overtaking the inky void. An aching pain fills his chest, letting out a large gasp. Gripping his chest tightly, he leans forward as he struggles to breathe, coughing loud as he moves. His body shutters as his eyes shake in disbelief.

"What the…" Archias utters in a low murmur. No longer did he have a scarred and worm hand but the small and unmarked hand of a child. Ignoring the pain, he turns to look over his body, letting out a loud groan as he rolls over, falling to the floor with a loud thud. The roar of his small crashing to the floor echoing around him.

"Issac!" A female voice screams, her voice full of panic and fear. The door to the room swings open with a crash as a grey-haired woman charges into the room, panting. Her messy and ragged from rushing over in fright.

Something wasn't right, his body wasn't moving the way he wanted, and a searing pain coursed through his muscles.

"Uh.. what fool does to poison a king!" He says in a low growl, anger rising inside of him. He struggles to his feet, pushing through the excruciating pain.

"Has your father been reading you those stories again? come on, get back in bed and get some rest." She sighs as she puts her hands gently on Issac's tiny shoulders. Frantically Issac's heart beats faster and faster as he begins to understand. He wasn't dreaming, this wasn't his body, and this wasn't his world.

"I.. must of... had a nightmare," He says in a quiet low voice like that of a confused child. All he knew was this woman was his mother.

"Don't worry, sweetie. You go back to bed and get some rest," She says in a gentle voice, tucking Issac into bed with a poorly made blanket. In pain and exhausted, Issac's consciousness begins to fade as he drifts off to sleep.

"What was that about honey?" A large burly man with auburn hair and beard says in a low voice. Rubbing his nose bridge as he looks over to his wife.

"Something weird was going on with Issac. He stood on his own. He really did!" She says with a shaky voice.

"Enough, Elain! We can't keep hoping and praying for the impossible. our child is a sickly cripple!" He says, gritting his teeth, holding back a well of tears.

"But he did! when I went in before He stood on his own!" She said in a loud, frantic voice, desperate to convince her husband and herself.

"Mother...?, what's wrong?" A small child voice asks from behind Elain. Surprised and startled, she turns around swiftly, only to find Issac standing in the doorway.

"What the hell- Issac, your standing! You're even walking. it's a damn miracle." His father says in a teary voice, ignoring whatever managed to help their cripple son. He rushes over to Issac, giving the child a tight hug. Tear's trickling down the burly man's cheeks.

"Okay, Issac. You've done well, but you need to sleep. It's late," Elain says in a gentle voice. Confused and warry, Issac gives a slight nod, heading back to his room for the night. The two sat in silence, giving Issac plenty of time to head to sleep.

" Did you do something?" He asks Elain in a stern tone, a miracle like this would never be free. "what did you give for Issac to walk again?" He asks, his brows furrowed and voice serious.

"Gunnar!, you think I'd do something sinister to help our child? all I've done is the same thing is to pray every day for him!" Elain says in an offended tone.

"We've both thoughts about it! We'd give our selves up in an instant to help him, and here he is. good as new, something isn't right!" He says, in a frustrated tone, clenching his fist, holding back the urge to thump the table.

"Okay. Your right, it doesn't matter. As long as he can walk, that's all the matters. Let's just head to bed and hope he's okay in the morning". Gunnar says in a soft voice, cautious but happy, as he walks to their bed.

Issac's head began to ache as the morning heat seeped into his room. The lack of aircon being very apparent as he wakes up in a sweat. Leaning forward, he stares at his hand, thinking. He couldn't lie down forever. He had to figure out where he was and what he was going to do next. Quietly he got out of bed, stepping with a soft foot as he looked around his house. His most significant suspicion was made clear. He wasn't in his world anymore. No signs of lights, machines or any electronics were visible. In there, places were lanterns and candles.

The house was a simple one but nicer than he expected. They were living in a five-bedroom house. One of the spare rooms was a study, filled with a large desk and books. Book's explaining all sorts of things about the world littered the shelves. He ran his finger across the books. He wasn't able to read the language.

"There you are honey, what are you doing in mummies study?" Elain asks Issac in a gentle voice, watching him look over the book spines.

"Can you teach me how to read some of these?" He asks in an honest voice with a smile on his face. She was shocked. He'd heard many stories from Gunnar plenty of times but was too sickly to want to read any of her books.

"of course, honey, I am a teacher, so it should be easy. What kind of book do you want to learn?" She says, leaning down to his height, looking at the books he was hovering over.

"Magic, I want to learn all about it!" Issac says in the most child-like voice he can muster. Her eyes widen as she hears his sudden desire for magic, he always enjoyed the stories f adventures and legends, but she never thought he'd be so eager to know about magic.

"Well, magic is very complicated. Deep inside you is something called mana core. Slowly your core draws in mana, filling up, improving itself. One day it fills up. When that happens, your magic awakens. but that takes a lot of time, sometimes people's core never even awaken." Elain explains, pressing her hand against his chest as she tells him all about magic.

" What kind of magic do you and pop have?" Issac asks curiously, hoping for something great to be passed onto him.

"Well, that's the thing, me and your father..., we never awakened our mana core. We don't have magic. Lucky your father is still powerful without magic," she says in a low voice, hoping not to burst his dreams too badly. "Okay, honey, you stay here today and be good. I have to go to work." She says in a soft, gentle voice, trying to change the depressing atmosphere as she leaves.

With Elain gone, Issac stood alone in the empty house. Racking his brain, was he really inept at magic?. Issac asks himself over and over, suddenly stopping his pacing and stressing. He has to think about this calmly.

Calmly he walks to his room, the tidy and meticulous room completely unfitting of a child. Calm, he crosses his legs on the bed, eyes close as he focuses. In his previous world, people managed to draw in mana from around them, forming magic earlier and growing stronger. If these mana cores were like that of his world, then he still may have a chance.

Issac clears his mind, focusing on drawing mana inside him. A tingling sensation begins to radiate through him. He could feel it, crude, unrefined and dull. But it was his, a mana core. The tingling stands his hairs on their ends, his muscles tensing as the magic begins to gather to a single spot within him.

'Just a little bit more!' He screams internally as his body cramps in pain. Typically drawing magic could be done over days, months and years. But he wasn't patient. Issac was determined as he focused on his goal. His vision fussy and his head groggy, he begins to swivel around on the spot, struggling to maintain consciousness, the sounds of crackling filling the air around him. He falls forward, plummeting from his bed with a loud bang.

"ISSAC!" His father roars, his words audible from outside. His footsteps echo around like a thunderous clap as he storms over to his room from the front door.