Sornid stares on in disbelief as Clara helps make a gravestone. He was busy grieving to do anything. His tears cloud up his purple eyes, the tomb was simplistic, but it meant so much. Just a minor pile of rocks, but it showed that someone other than him cared.

  His messy hair fell over his eyes, the man was thoroughly broken. He always believed that he had to be strong, and never show emotion to peasants. A weak ideal shattered like glass as he continued crying.

  Crying in front of probably the poorest person he knew, Clara. So pathetic. So worthless. He may as well join his parents. But he must see this to the end. He must persevere. It’s what they would’ve wanted.

  It’s all they would’ve wanted. So Sornid stands up, and begins walking. Clara stands cutting her muttering off. Finally.

  “Where are you going?” Clara asks, a small hint of… No not rage, confusion in her voice.

  “Ah, well it’s time to move on. We’ve spent long enough here.” He continues moving onwards. Clara follows close behind him. His extravagance isn’t lost, and he’s glad to be a part of this group.

  “...I’m sorry once again for everything I had caused.” Sornid speaks up first, continuing along the beaten path. The trees surrounding them just as beautiful as the air they breathe.

  “And I already told you that I forgive you,” Clara begins, only to be cut off by Sornid.

  “And I don’t accept that weak forgiveness.” Sornid walks onwards, “I don’t want the forgiveness baked into your heart, to forgive even someone who’d stab you in the back. I want true forgiveness, something born from the pain I gave out, and then accepted.”

  Sornid continues walking the dirt crunching loud enough to pierce Sornid’s eardrums. He had avoided this concept for days, weeks, months, hell years. He never wanted to admit his wrongdoing for his crimes, because his crimes gave him the attention his heart desperately craved.

  His greed desperately begged for that. He had all he could ever want. Money, fame, power. Even then, he still couldn’t help but try to scream out for attention, becoming nothing but a jerk.

  “So?” Sornid stops walking. “Do you really still forgive me?”

  “...Of course.” Clara stopped walking ahead of him, staring at him with her own pink eyes. They seemed to glow with the amount of magic power she wields.

  “Even if this tower is away from the gods you believe in?” Sornid looks away, and towards the beautiful sky. The sky of just golden light.

  “Yes.” She quietly answers, “How many times must I say it until you believe it?”

  “Hm. Maybe I never will.”

  “Then why even ask for it?”

  This singular sentence rings out constantly. Why would he ask for forgiveness if he never wanted to accept it?

  “Maybe I just want to hear that phrase.” Sornid finally comes out with a response, after minutes of time. Waiting for the words to find him, and not the other way around. He didn’t move during this time, and rather just let his elegant cape, although stained, flowing within the wind.

  “Then I’ll say it however many times you want.” Clara’s smooth voice broke the sound of the wind. The sky was beautiful and the trees were perfectly green.

  The beaten path marches the two forward, moving on from Sornid’s past. He had finally begun to open up, mentioning how he used to live in this very forest. This road didn’t lead anywhere in particular.

  He’d walked up and down it hundreds if not thousands of times. And Clara was just… quietly listening. The years he spent growing up, studying magic. The two stopped next to a tree in the center of an opening. Books stacked up on a trunk beside it.

  The books were faded, as though this was just a memory. He opened one of them, and began to read. He continued talking through the reading, the words were merging and twisting, making it impossible to read.

  He continued on, speaking about the countless years he spent just reading here. Talking about all the spells he learnt the basics of on his own. The reasons he became the royal mage. The talent he had, having an absurdly high Mana count despite how his stats should’ve had it be so much lower.

  He threw so many wrenches into the research of the system. Everyone had assumed certain things, and of course, his birth led to the discovery of [Borne Traits]. He knew that in of itself was a great feat.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  He chuckled a little before speaking more clearly, thinking more about it, “You know full well what borne traits really are right?”

  Clara responded quickly, “You’ll just say that they’re talent, or some other thing-”

  “No. They’re something someone earns, probably in their past life. Because other people are punished seemingly at birth.”

  He looks up, until he hears a harp. Something is floating down from the sky itself, the golden light is leaving, the sky is finally itself. The sky is blue as the silhouette grows clear. It shows a tall man wearing something robe-like, and… Wings surrounding their head.

  “Hahaha~” The tall person’s face becomes clear with their heavenly voice.

  Their face is completely basic, their eyes filled with nothing but light. The wings close over their eyes once more as they continue to talk, “Well then, nice job learning your friend’s past.”

  They lean down in front of Clara, who stares at this thing with… Contempt. Or jealousy. Sornid knows he was never the best at deciphering emotion.

  “Well then, I suppose it’s time I came down to tell you that you have two choices. Well three I suppose.” It stands back up, as Sornid attempts to check it, his right eye flickering the similar blue of the system itself.

  The beast raises it’s hand, and Sornid feels his own check backfire on himself.

  He sees details he should never be capable of seeing, hell even the system itself looks different.

  [Sornid, Fifth plaything of the Tower]

  [STATS:]

  [Irrelevant.]

  [Too weak to stand for himself.]

  [Traits:]

  [Natural Talent] - Allows the user to have more than double MP and HP then usual. Makes him no more of a threat.

  “Well now you need to only choose. Who of you two should live?” The thing’s voice sounds more distinct, it’s voice ringing out the clearing despite Sornid’s head throbbing. “You or Sornid?”

  Sornid instinctively raises his hand and casts magic, until the thing snaps its fingers. Sornid feels… weaker, far far weaker. As though his stats were all set to that of a non-awakened.

  “Well, it seems Sornid here would like to pick for you!”

  “Wait!”

  Clara’s voice rang out for a mere second, before Sornid saw his entire worldview tilt. He felt something against his back, felt like the back of a foot. He could no longer feel his legs. He felt himself get picked up, the sound of something pouring out onto the ground.

  He didn’t have the strength to look down.

  “Well. You chose well actually. You weren’t able to adapt to us taking your system away huh?” The thing grinned unnaturally wide, as though it’s flesh surrounding the mouth split away.

  “But I suppose you just got unlucky. It very well could’ve been those two, or Pallad or Judine.”

  “Stop! What have you done!?”

  “Ah, right! You’ll want to save this kid, won’t you?” Sornid feels himself flung into the tree, hearing a loud snap around his back. It would probably hurt, but the stinging is greater in his mid-section. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

  “Well, that was a fun dilemma! I’ll be seeing you around!~” Its voice rang out with the final word, as it flew upwards using wings sprouting from its back. One of many pairs of wings.

  She quickly rushed over to him, maybe. He can’t tell. It’s blinding, his vision is failing way to fast.

  She quickly cast healing spell after healing spell, but the stinging stayed.

  “No. You aren’t dying! Not yet!” Her voice got more desperate.

  He spoke up, just simply reciting one of the first things he read.

  “Strength is used to decide damage… Dexterity used for speed… Constitution is how many hits you can take… and Mana is how well you can control magic… Hahaha… All the stats… so simplistic in nature.”

  [WARNING!]

  [User’s HP has reached 0!]

  [Death is imminent!]

  The red of the system matched the red that covered his hand, or stub of an arm, as he raised it. He let out a dry chuckle, as he simply forces Clara’s hand down a bit too hard.

  [YOU WON!]

  [You gained…]

  Hahaha~ Now this was a fun chapter! I'm sure you'll be seeing some of me later on~

  Ha! And not just you, but the party will be strong enough to have their own colors of speech... Nowhere near soon however.