“What are you doing here?”

  Her voice was divine; however, Aren sensed a devilish essence beneath her cold tone.

  “Umm… it was a mistake. I was chasing a kid… no, finding a kid, then she vanished….”

  Aren paused and thought about how stupid what he had just said sounded.

  The coldness in her stare increased. Avoiding direct eye contact with her crimson eyes, Aren noticed her ears behind her greyish hair. They were long and far too pointy to belong to a human, and far more defined than a normal human’s ears. However, they were ears he was very familiar with. He had read poetic descriptions of them multiple times. They were the ears belonging to elves.

  “Eh, you are an elf?”

  She tilted her head in slight confusion.

  “What’s an elf?”

  “Umm… those ears of yours.”

  She instinctively hid them with her long grey hair and held the handle of her slightly curved sword near her wrist.

  “Wait, wait, wait. I promise I didn’t see anything. Please spare my life.”

  She looked flabbergasted as she said, “I was not going to—”

  Grooolll!

  At that moment, a terrible roaring sound echoed throughout the night. She turned toward it.

  “I will deal with you later. Run toward the town.”

  “What about you?” Aren asked.

  She looked at him from the corner of her eyes and chuckled.

  “I am a Sorcerer. I was born to hunt monsters. But a normal human like you has no right to stay here.”

  She looked at the shadow gate and sighed.

  “It seems the gate is expanding. Soon it will devour this whole planet. You should flee from this planet and run toward one of the central planets. Living here will be certain death for you.”

  Saying so, she jumped far higher than any human ever could, vanishing into the night.

  “Wait…” Aren said, but she had already disappeared. As if speaking to himself, he finished his words, “What’s your name?”

  At that moment, Aren finally understood that in this world, awakening as a Sorcerer was not a blessing, but a necessity. To survive, this was the only way.

  *****

  Morning came, and the sky lit up, not in the same way as it did on Earth, where the sky turned red as a ball of fire rose into it. In this world, the sky literally lit up everywhere simultaneously.

  As Aren walked toward a bridge near the house, he saw Miss Mira staring at the cold water below. Then, with a bit of struggle, she climbed onto the edge of the bridge and stared at the water again, fear evident in her eyes. Aren noticed that she was not wearing her usual glasses.

  He came closer and said, “That water looks really cold. Are you sure about this?”

  She looked at Aren in surprise, barely maintaining her balance.

  “It does, doesn’t it?” she said.

  “Then how about waiting until the water warms up a bit?” Aren said.

  She smiled. “That would be nice, but I doubt I have time.”

  She continued.

  “I was born on a planet lost to the shadow gate. I saw my people die, we were powerless. That’s why I understand that power is the only way to survive. That’s why I wanted him to awaken as a Sorcerer.”

  “I see. Then you should wait a little longer. And… maybe, in that time, give life another chance,” Aren said.

  She hesitated. But without giving her a chance to speak, Aren continued.

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  “I–I want to become a Sorcerer.”

  That surprised her so much she almost lost her balance, but fortunately fell back onto the bridge with a bang.

  “Are you alright?”

  Aren ran and helped her up. Mira stood with his support and, using all her strength, slammed a heavy punch right into his gut.

  “Aghh…” Aren took three steps backward in pain.

  “Stupid boy, how dare you run away in the middle of the night!”

  Aren dodged another punch aimed at his face and bowed deeply, saying, “I know I am an idiot. I’m irresponsible, a jerk… and… and also handsome. So please forgive me.”

  She chuckled and said, “Aren, are you in love?”

  “Eh, what? No, of course not. Please don’t tease me like that,” Aren said, his cheeks completely red.

  “Alright, alright. As for your sudden decision to become a Sorcerer—unfortunately, you need approval first. And the deadline is over.”

  “What? Then what should I do?” Aren panicked.

  “Hehehe, don’t worry. I had already applied for one for you, and it has been approved.”

  *****

  It was the day of the Dragon King Festival. The entire town lit up as if awakening from a long, deep slumber. Lanterns shaped like coiling dragons hung from rooftops and street poles, their scales painted silver and black, representing the King of all Dragons.

  Drums were played, people danced, and the entire population moved toward the central plaza, where the ceremony of mana awakening took place.

  Miss Mira brought him a simple suit of dark blue. She helped him try it on with careful hands, smoothing the creases on his shoulders and adjusting the collar as if he were something precious that might break if handled roughly.

  They left for the plaza an hour early.

  The road leading the way was filled to the brim with people, both sides crowded with shops and stalls. Vendors shouted over one another, advertising roasted meat, honeyed pastries, spiced nuts, and glowing bottles of festival brew. The smell of something rich and sizzling reached Aren’s nose, and his stomach growled loudly.

  But he couldn’t ask Mira for money, and there were those dumb rules about not eating anything until the ceremony ended. He could do nothing to resist his stomach’s relentless assaults.

  ‘Hope this ends soon,’ he sighed inwardly. ‘It feels like one of those exams on Earth that determines your future at an age where your parents decide everything for you.’

  At the central plaza, the crowd thickened into a living wall of bodies.

  At its heart stood the Awakening Stone.

  It was enormous, an irregular monolith taller than a house, its surface etched with ancient runes worn smooth by centuries of hopeful and disappointed hands.

  A faint blue glow pulsed from within, like the breathing of something asleep.

  In front of it stood a man clad entirely in white robes. His posture was straight, his expression serene. He was the officiator, a Sorcerer whose duty was to witness the birth of others like him.

  From the books he had read, Aren remembered the story of how humans were granted mana, a powerful magical energy that had once been unique to dragons.

  After the first generation was given mana, it soon spread to all humans, existing in a dormant state.

  However, when injected with a small amount of foreign mana, that dormant mana would awaken.

  Aren swallowed a mouthful of saliva.

  ‘Why am I so nervous?’

  Children his age were already lining up, some laughing nervously, others pale with fear. Every few minutes, one would step forward, place a trembling hand on the stone, and the plaza would erupt.

  Blue light. Red light. Green. Gold.

  Cheers followed each success. Parents cried. Friends screamed names into the air. The awakened were guided aside, glowing faintly, faces dazed with disbelief and joy.

  Each time it happened, Aren felt his heart beat faster.

  That’ll be me.

  He imagined it vividly: mana flooding his body, power surging through his veins. He imagined Mira’s eyes widening, the crowd chanting his name. He imagined himself standing tall, no longer just Aren, the poor boy from nowhere, but Aren the Awakened. And someday, riding that stupid dragon home.

  ‘But I can’t just go back like that. What about Miss Mira?’

  As time flew by, the line shortened.

  Mira stood behind him, hands clasped. “You’ll do great,” she said.

  He nodded, though his palms were slick with sweat.

  Finally, it was his turn.

  Before going, he said, “If I become rich, I will buy you a mansion near a big lake.”

  Mira smiled faintly and nodded.

  The plaza fell strangely quiet as he stepped forward. The stone loomed before him, its glow reflecting faintly in his eyes.

  “State your name,” the man in white said.

  “Aren… Aren Wyrd,” he replied. His new last name still felt strange, but his voice didn’t shake; rather, he felt proud.

  “Place your hand on the stone. Open your heart. Do not resist.”

  Aren nodded.

  The stone was colder than he expected.

  He closed his eyes.

  ‘Come on,’ he thought desperately. ‘I need this to go home.’

  He thought of Mira, of what had happened to her son. He remembered how he had almost died the night before. He remembered being abducted by that dragon from his world, how he had run away in fear, and how he had understood that Sorcerers were the only ones who truly mattered in this world.

  Then he remembered the promise he had spoken too easily: a mansion near a lake.

  ‘I need a lot of money.’

  Seconds passed. Then more. The crowd murmured. And nothing happened.

  None of the tingling feelings, the faint whispers, or the bright light he had read about appeared.

  The stage fell into utter silence.

  ‘Wh–what’s going on?’

  The blue glow of the stone remained unchanged.

  Aren frowned and focused harder, pushing inward as if clawing at something just beyond his grasp.

  But still, nothing happened.

  The officiator’s gaze sharpened.

  “Aren,” he said gently, “step back.”

  Aren opened his eyes.

  Whispers rippled through the crowd.

  “Another failure…”

  “Unfortunate.”

  “Poor kid.”

  His hand slipped from the stone.

  No light followed him like he had expected, no cheers celebrated his name.

  Just a dull, crushing realization settling into him.

  ‘I have failed to awaken.’

  The officiator placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “You are unawakened.”

  The words echoed louder than the drums.

  Aren stepped aside, legs numb, his vision blurring at the edges. He didn’t know where to look, at the stone, the crowd, or the ground.

  Then he saw Mira, still smiling behind a hidden pain that reminded her of her son’s failure.