Episode 6: Cost of Magic

  Chapter 019 - What It Costs

  Smack!

  –9 HP

  HP: 120 / 129

  Vynelor hit the ground hard, his head sliding against the loose gravel. He came to a stop, but his cheek pulsed and tingled. The slap shook his whole body. He forgot the pain of the fall, all focus on the reddening cheek that couldn’t be hidden. An unpleasant sting strangled his heart, and every hope in him turned into confusion.

  ● System Interruption ●

  Emotional overload. Something is wrong. Get it together.

  All Stats — Decreased by 10% until mental equilibrium is restored.

  Vynelor didn’t even blink at the screen. He just lay there, the words burning across his vision, the hit burning across his skin.

  The hare was already skinned and half-cooked over the fire, its scent hanging for him to smell. He always anticipated a meal, always bouncing on his feet to grab a bite. But where did that excitement go? He didn’t know. All he could think about was how painful the slap was. It confused him. There was no bruise, no cut, no fracture. Yet, it was unbearable.

  He raised his head, looking right at Wallan standing over him. Dad, it hurts. Why did you hit me? He wanted to ask that question. It was flooding his head. But he couldn’t speak.

  Wallan’s hand slowly lowered.

  “I told you not to use magic,” he said firmly, piercing in tone. “And you used it anyway. I thought I said that enough. But you did not listen.”

  Vynelor pushed himself up on his elbows. His lip quivered, but his eyes were sharp, red around the edges. “But I caught food for us,” he muttered. “Isn’t that good? We can eat…”

  “You are not getting it,” Wallan replied. “How many times do you have to be stubborn and use magic? How many times do I have to tell you to not use it? You do not listen. It is disappointing.”

  The boy stood, swaying slightly from the hit, chest rising and falling in uneven bursts. “I–I saved a life. The hare would’ve been dead without me. Magic i–is a good thing. It can be a very useful—”

  “Enough!” he sharply cut him off, making the boy flinch. “How hard does it have to be? If I tell you to not do something, you listen. We’re in the middle of a place where anyone can come by and hear you. I heard you from a distance. If I heard it, others also could.”

  Vynelor looked away, blinking hard. “So what? So I should’ve let the boulder crush me? I could’ve just… just died while following your stupid rules! Should I have done that instead? Should I?”

  Wallan took a step forward, but his voice dropped. “No. If you had not run off, we wouldn’t be in this situation. If you had been with me, would you have been in a threatening situation? No. I told you, over and over, to not be so reckless.”

  The silence between them stretched. Wallan said firmly, “You broke that. It is your fault.”

  Something in Vynelor’s chest crumpled.

  ● System Interruption ●

  Emotional overload. Protect yourself. Your mind senses danger.

  All Stats — Decreased by 20% until mental equilibrium is restored.

  He clenched his fists at his sides, his arms trembling. Even his system flickered here and there, listening to his strangled breathing. He got up, trying to gain some ground. His brows furrowed, voice trembling. “You… you think I don’t know what it means to be careful? Every time I try to do something good for us, you look at me like I’ve always done something bad that needs fixing!”

  Wallan’s jaw tightened. “You didn’t do anything bad. You just didn’t listen—”

  “It sounds like I did bad!” Vynelor shouted, stepping back, arms pulled forward, guarding his chest. “You, you do all of this training, all of this stuff. But I don’t know what it’s for anymore! You train me like a weapon. You want me to be like someone who just listens and listens! I don’t want to hurt anything! It’s like you’re scared of me. You’re scared, aren’t you?”

  “Vynelor—”

  “I’m not stupid. I know what you see. I’m some cursed miracle that should’ve stayed in the river! Why was I even taken in by you? It was better for me to stay crying in that basket and hope for my real father to get me!”

  Wallan’s shoulders pulled back slightly.

  “Is it hard to just say ‘Good job’? To be proud of what I do? I just want us to eat together, walk together, talk like we are… Once, just once!” Vynelor said, voice cracking. “That maybe magic can help more than hurt. That maybe you can be proud of what I’m good at. But you can’t. You won’t.”

  He turned, stomping past the fire, past the hare he caught, past everything.

  “Vynelor, wait,” Wallan said. But the edge in his voice was struggling to remain composed.

  Vynelor spun with tears in the corner of his eyes. “All this time, it was my dream to go to RrodKa because I want to find my real parents who would love me,” he said before leaving the campgrounds, “not you.”

  Wallan flinched. The sound of retreating footsteps faded into the distance, swallowed by trees. He didn’t follow after him. He lowered his head, jaw pressing tight as a defeated breath escaped him.

  Vynelor moved through the wilderness without knowing where he was going. He didn’t care. All he wanted right now was to leave and not see Wallan. The farther from camp, the better.

  Branches reached out and slid across his shoulders like fingers, catching on his cloak briefly. He stepped over roots jutting up like veins. He ignored one thing after the other, even the trails Wallan taught him to use, so he wouldn’t get lost.

  Above, the canopy thickened until the sun could barely reach the ground. Pockets of gold-lit mist hovered between hanging vines, some hovering like little puffs of clouds. Distant animal sounds came and went. Herds of blue-fur mammals stared in silence before collectively dashing away. Some winged creatures perched on branches, flicking their heads down to eye the child, but none scared him. He barely heard them.

  The deeper he went, the less the wilderness behaved like wilderness. In this region, it felt like nature grew sentient. Paths split for no reason, then curved back on themselves. Trees whispered things he couldn’t understand. “Hey,” they said, making Vynelor turn and see a trunk bend toward him. He ran further, escaping these plants that called out to him. He crossed the same mossy bridge twice, even though he hadn’t turned around. He didn’t care. Let the forest play tricks. He kept walking.

  He traveled down a slope and across a narrow ridge slick with dew. He climbed the side of a slanted boulder, using roots as handholds. Eventually, the ground dipped into a hollow. He entered a large clearing where it felt like twilight. Trees arched inward, covering the sun and having bioluminescent plants turn the place into a pleasant atmosphere.

  The mist pooled low here, soft and blue. Ferns curled around one another like sleeping things. Vynelor’s knees buckled. He dropped at the center of the spacious place, slumping to the earth with no strength in him to continue.

  Here, he stopped. His hands and breath shook. He knelt and curled in on himself. Leaves drifted gently in the wind. His fingers dug into the dirt, trying to make sense of his emotions pooling over him. And when the silence became too much to hold, the tears returned, hot and clumsy. He broke down.

  It wasn’t quiet, nor was it noble. He cried hard, face pressed into the crook of his arms, the kind of crying that made his throat tighten so bad it hurt.

  “I didn’t want to hurt anything,” he whispered between breaths.

  Temperament Slate — 1/6 Awakened

  Worthseek ? Lv. 8: Your father is disappointed in you. It is your fault.

  “I should’ve never used it,” he rasped. “I was stupid. So stupid…”

  He lay there, hunched and broken, sobbing into a world that didn’t answer his cries. His cheek rested against the cold moss, the same cheek that got smacked hard. He squeezed his eyes shut. Over time, he cried quieter. The initial burst of emotions started to settle, leaving him with only questions again.

  Time passed without knowing how long he stayed there processing things. His breathing slowed. The air was cooling. And the first thought that came was the idea of seeing Wallan again. He was certain that he’d come back. But the second-hand embarrassment from seeing his face again after all that made it worse. Maybe he’d be greeted with harsh words. In honesty, it sounded nice to start expecting the worst.

  “…He’s gonna be mad forever,” he whispered, voice barely audible. “I ruined it.”

  Temperament Slate — 2/6 Awakened

  Heartbind ? Lv. 9: Your father loves you. His words come from worry, not from hate.

  Worthseek ? Lv. 8: Your father is disappointed in you. It is your fault.

  “He worries about me…”

  He stayed there a few more minutes, face streaked with wet earth and tears. Then finally, with a slow push, he rose onto his elbows and then his knees. His system flickered on, showing his stats reverting to normal. His HP and other numbers recovered. And after feeling calmer, he took a deep breath and prepared himself. With another exhale, he looked down at his bent knees.

  “I should go back,” he muttered. “Before it gets dark—”

  But something shifted.

  Something changed… something heavy.

  The ferns around him darted around as if they sensed danger. They curled inward, pulling themselves down into the soil as if to hide. A cluster of blue-feathered insects buzzed up from a nearby log and vanished into the canopy without a sound. A crowd of birds flew out of the trees, their wings flapping hard and beaks chirping with a piercing cry.

  Vynelor froze. Something was coming.

  The light overhead dimmed unnaturally fast. It wasn’t like sunset. It felt like a thick layer of clouds had passed right above the sun… except there were no clouds. The trees no longer leaned casually. They grew still, almost like it was just nature without magic. And that was not normal.

  His stomach turned.

  The moss beneath his knees vibrated. He noticed even the small pebbles rattled. The smell of the air changed too. What remained was the crisp scent of bark and water. What remained was the sour tang of stone, metal, and ash.

  He stood up slowly. Every hair on his arms rose. His eyes looked everywhere, unsure where it was coming from, but he certainly knew something was coming. He knew… something was coming to him.