John felt his pulse race with a mix of anxiety and pride. He hadn’t seen her in months—not since long before Academy life had swallowed him into its routines. Shira approached him with that familiar warmth, a melodic note in her voice as she said, “Preparing for greatness already, little one?”
At first, her manner was light—a wink, a teasing lilt as she glanced at the stat window he summoned at her request making it for the first time visible to another. But then she grew truly still, studying the numbers line by line. Her poise shifted to barely-contained disbelief.
She pointed, one by one, at the glowing figures:
- “Health: 300. Stamina: 300.” Her brows climbed. “For a child?”
- “Strength, Dexterity, Intelligence, Willpower… 35, all.” She shook her head in stunned approval.
- “Mana: 2,500. Magic Power: 120.” Now even her voice faltered, the quiet air of command momentarily breaking. For an awakened adult, such raw mana and power would be impossible before ascension to higher classes ; for a ten-year-old child, it was unthinkable like a joke made through light magic that showed the wrong stat window. “John, most grown mages here do not reach half these numbers—even with years of study. I have only seen elves of great age or those chosen by fate come anywhere close.”
Shira tested him in her way—direct and unblinking: simple sparring moves, a conjured water orb, a request for a sustained Light spell, even a push with will against her own subtle magical barrier. Each time, John responded not only effortlessly, but with control and depths of magical force that left even Shira briefly at a loss for words.
She stared at John, a rare moment of awe shining in her hard-won composure. “You are not just on the path,” Shira finally said quietly, leaning down so only he could hear, “You may be the path—the system itself pays attention, and so must I.”
She ruffled his hair in a strangely gentle motion for someone so strong. “Remember—these gifts set you apart, but what you do next is what makes you truly strong.” Then, slipping back into her wild, regal bearing, she whispered with a teasing spark: “A little more and you’ll be stronger than I am, but don’t let it go to your head.” Of course this was a lie. She was still unfathomable for him.
John decided to ask her about the spell that he would need to save Elyndra. What class should he aim for to get this spell as soon as possible?
Shira’s eyes lingered on John as the glimmering windows faded from sight, their dazzling numbers still fresh in her mind. The awe and gentle warning she’d given faded into a reflective quiet as John, emboldened by her attention, voiced the question burning in his thoughts.
“Shira…” he asked softly, “If I want to have the spell that could save Elyndra—something powerful enough to pierce shadow or banish the Umbral chains—what class should I aim for? How soon could I truly get a spell like that?”
A moment of genuine seriousness settled over Shira’s features; the playful glint in her sapphire eyes became a rare and solemn gravity. She crouched so their gazes were level, answering with the tone of a mentor and someone who knew the dangers of hope.
“John,” she began, “to gain the kind of spell you’re describing—one capable of breaking through void bindings or fighting an ancient entity like Umbraxis—you’ll need more than raw strength or magic. The common paths—Warrior, Rogue, Archer, even Priest or Sage—won’t grant what you seek in their first forms. Not even a basic Mage can wield that kind of magic yet. The spell you wish for… it belongs to the exceptional, to those who reach the true heights of the arcane.”
She paused, considering, then continued:
- “If you want to wield true banishment, powerful restoration, or fate-altering magic, you must ultimately pursue a Tier II class or rarer—a path that builds upon the foundation of Mage, perhaps evolving into an Archmage, Light Mage, or even a Legendary-class Exorcist or Sealer. Some rare Sages or Priests may touch this power, but the fastest route is through the arcane—pushing your magic power and affinities as far as the system will allow.”
- “For you, with your oceanborn and quasi-mythic affinities, your best option is to choose Mage as your Tier I class when the ascension window opens. From there, specialize relentlessly—aim for advanced mastery of the arcane, light, or even soul magic.”
- “But be warned: the journey is steep. These spells are not merely taught, they are carved from experience—great risks, triumph over darkness, resonance with the deepest laws of magic. Only those who push far beyond the common path will unlock such rites.”
Shira’s voice grew softer, more encouraging. “You have the stats and the will. You’ll reach Mage and beyond faster than any child I’ve seen. But some elements—like the spell to unbind someone ensnared by void—aren’t just in the spellbook. They will present themselves when the time, place, and heart align. Prepare yourself, master your light and arcane affinities, strengthen your soul. If anyone can find or forge that spell, it’s you. And should you need guidance on the way, I will help as much as fate allows.”
She stood, once more the wild and regal legend, but behind the strength and teasing there lingered something else—a promise that John was not alone in his quest.
John thanked her but decided he did not have time to wait until tier II. He needed something more. A human child would have stats capped at 10 after awakening to the system before choosing a class through ascendance but rare were those who reached the cap even in one stat. He was far beyond thanks to his oceanic gift. The common or uncommon classes were not for him. What about the rare, the legendary and the mythic classes? He wanted a mythic mage class. An arcane one if possible, if not, a oceanic one.
John’s question hung in the air—direct, urgent, and driven by the deep need to reach the impossible so he could save Elyndra. Shira, still reeling from the sheer magnitude of his stats, took a long, thoughtful breath before answering.
She explained with rare gravity, “The highest classes… the mythic ones, legendary and beyond, are as far above the common paths as the sky is above the ground. Most will never see them. Even most elves only ever hear them in stories.” Her voice was quieter, as if the words themselves were dangerous to repeat.
She continued, carefully outlining what John’s prodigious stats and unique awakening opened:
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Rare Classes: These include Archmage, Elemental Paragon, or Soul Binder. For most, reaching even these requires feats of heroism, ancient bloodlines, or mastery of multiple paths.
Legendary Classes: These are names sung in ancient halls—Worldshaper, Planar Sage, Phoenix Soul, or Void Walker. They are often tied to world-altering magic, control over multiple elements, or the power to affect fate itself.
Mythic Classes: The pinnacle, spoken of more like living legends than attainable goals. Examples are Eternarch, Arcane Sovereign, Oceanic Avatar, or Primordial Sage. Such classes channel the oldest, deepest rules of creation—command over reality, time, or the primal sea.
Shira met John’s eyes, her voice resonating with both warning and encouragement:
“To unlock a mythic mage class—especially the Arcane or Oceanic—the requirements are beyond simple power:
Unprecedented stats—already, you are unique there.
Great deeds: the system looks for world-changing acts or destinies entwined with creation itself.
Deep affinity: an Arcane Sovereign would require perfect mastery and understanding of the Arcane Law, while an Oceanic Avatar would demand not just affinity, but a spiritual union with the primordial waters, perhaps by awakening an ancient sea spirit or facing an entity like the one that changed you.”
She explained that legendary and mythic classes are not chosen but “called forth”—the system only reveals them when it deems the path and soul ready. No academy could teach the final step; it requires a fusion of heroism, magical genius, and sometimes even sacrificing one’s humanity for something older or grander.
She leaned in, lowering her voice, “If you want to forge the fastest road to a mythic class, then:
Focus everything on mastery. Learn every aspect of the arcane, every secret the ocean will yield. Make yourself indispensable, a force the system can’t ignore.
Seek legendary quests—acts or mysteries that will write you into the world’s fate itself. If you want that arcane mythic path, solve riddles of reality. For the oceanic, prove your claim by calling and mastering sea powers as no mortal has before.”
“But... know this, John: the cost can be terrible. Mythic mages are their own legend, sometimes more than they are people. Your friends, your worries—even your self—might seem smaller as your power grows. But for someone who wants to break chains as dark as those binding Elyndra, there is no power more likely to succeed.”
Shira’s expression softened. She pressed a hand to John’s shoulder—a silent promise that, even as he aimed for the sky, he was not alone. “If the day comes when the system offers you a mythic class, you’ll have earned it by every choice, every question, every risk. And I’ll be proud to see what name you make for yourself in the world’s oldest stories.”
For John, hearing the truth was daunting—but also a new light. A mythic arcane or oceanic class was no guarantee. But if anyone could reach for it, endure the trials, and harness its power with wisdom and heart, the system had surely marked him as one of the few who just might.
Sweating, John asked if they were still speaking about tier I classes, even if mythic ones.
Shira’s expression softened at John’s question. The tension and weight of their conversation lingered as she realized just how much was riding on the answer.
She shook her head gently. “No, John. The mythical classes I’m describing go far beyond Tier I—even beyond Tier II. When we speak of mythic, arcane, or primordial classes—those that might bend the world’s rules or grant a mage the power to face something like Umbraxis—we’re talking about classes that are beyond the common tiers.”
She explained that:
- Tier I classes—even if exceptional in nature—are always the foundation: Mage, Warrior, Rogue, Archer, Priest, Sage, and perhaps their elusive uncommon versions. Even a rare or legendary variation at Tier I cannot access the kinds of powers, banishments, or world-shaking spells John is seeking.
- Mythic or legendary classes are typically locked behind Tier II ascensions and, most often, further requirements (some available only at Tier III or beyond)—extraordinary feats, legendary quests, world-altering affinities, or system-driven callings.
- The system only reveals and permits access to such classes when the soul, stats, and fate fully align—often long after an adventurer’s first ascension, and usually through a combination of heritage, destiny, and monumental deeds.
She rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “You’re already beyond what any Tier I can offer, even among awakened prodigies. Even the strongest ‘mythic’ foundation class—the rarest form of Mage, or some arcane prodigy—would just plant the seed. The classes you truly hunger for, those that might let you change fate or save someone bound by the void, can only be reached in time—mostly as higher ascensions. But with your gifts, and if you travel the world, seek the oldest secrets, and make your own legend, the system may yet bring even a mythic path within your reach.”
She gave John a long, searching look, as if making sure he understood both the hope and the distance he still needed to travel.
“In short: the system’s highest mythic classes are a promise for later—Tier II, Tier III and beyond. But by starting with Mage and then shaping your journey with every ounce of wisdom and will, you give yourself the strongest possible chance to reach them when your moment comes.”
Her words, steady and gentle, carried both honesty and belief: John was beginning not at the end, but at an unprecedented beginning—a journey that might one day reach the heights few could even dream of.
John was not satisfied. They already had established that he should be able to help the imprisoned elf after reaching tier II. He asked about mythic tier I classes but apparently there were none. he asked Shira what magic governed her shapeshifting, what magic she used to conjure clothes (space element magic) and what magic the system itself used (Shire does not know that).
John’s restless curiosity pushed him to probe deeper, a frown creasing his brow as Shira’s earlier words replayed in his mind. He pressed her again, “So there are no mythic Tier I classes at all?” When she confirmed this—explaining that even the rarest, most extraordinary classes only come later, through further ascension—his dreams of a shortcut faded, replaced by a burning desire to unravel the true mysteries behind magic itself.
He changed tack, fascinated now by the peculiar powers he’d glimpsed in Shira since their first meeting. “Shira, what kind of magic governs your shapeshifting? And when you shift, your clothes just... appear or you make them appear later (he added flushing red). How do you do that? Is it some special element, or something else? Also—do you know what kind of magic the system itself uses?”
A glimmer of amusement and thoughtfulness danced in Shira’s luminous eyes.
She crouched, tailing her answer with a tone both candid and reflective. “My shapeshifting…” she mused. “No ordinary magic, not purely, though there are pieces you might recognize. Many would call it a branch of transformation magic, but for true weres, it goes deeper. Part of it is, yes, shaped by ‘arcane’ magic—the universal magic of structure, change, and form. But it’s also ancestral—tied to soul, blood, and something older than the schoolroom elements. Even the elves cannot quite copy it, though they try.”
As for her conjured clothes, Shira’s lips curved in a half-grin. “The clothing? You noticed!” Her eyes sparkled teasingly. “That’s part of what some magi call ‘space’ or ‘dimensional’ magic—a rare branch, more common among high elves and certain bloodlines. I weave a pocket of space, tied to me, that holds my battle gear and attire. When I transform, I draw the clothes from that space and blend them with my shape. It takes a lot of practice—and a bit of instinct only shapechangers seem to possess.”
When John asked about the system’s own magic, Shira’s mien turned truly thoughtful. “That…” she admitted, “I do not know. No one does. Some say the system is older than any sorcery—woven into the very bones of the world. I can’t tell you what element governs it. The best wizards and sages only theorize: maybe law, maybe fate, maybe something outside the circle of elemental or arcane magic altogether. Some claim the gods built it. Others claim the system is the world’s way to protect itself or to grant mortals a measure of divinity. I've never seen its thread—only its effects.”
She looked at John with sudden respect and curiosity of her own. “You’re asking questions most adults would never dare utter. Do not stop—sometimes the truest power lies not in what you can cast, but in what you dare to question.”
Shira’s answers left John both satisfied and more determined. He sensed even the greatest magic-users stood in awe of forces they could not truly name, and that his path would be carved not just by class or level, but by the mysteries he chose to chase—mysteries ancient, wild, and woven through fate itself.
John decided that he should not go to the normal ascension ritual with the other kids. If he wants to defy the system. If he wants to create a tier I mythic class, he has to do something special.