At dawn, golden light spills over the ruins of a village gutted by fire, with shattered houses tangled in vines and glowing sap dripping from crystalline trees. The stench of smoke and the crackle of embers follow Rian, who's shaking as he buries symbolic scraps of the village—carved wood, a necklace—with a rusty shovel. The trauma of last night's blaze drags up the loss of his family five years ago, and tears slip out despite his effort to stay stone-cold.
"You can't break now, kid," a deep voice rumbles in his head, ancient as the forest's core. "The Gray Divinity's sniffed out your Creation. Hide the gift, or you'll be hunted."
Rian jams the shovel into the dirt, metal scraping. "Who are you?" he mutters, voice hoarse. "Hunted? By who? And what even is this power?"
"I'm Craevon, divinity of creation, older than these trees," the voice booms, echoing like it's coming from the forest's heart. "The gift of Creation is yours, but it's a flame that draws predators. The Gray Divinity's already on your trail. Train, evolve, or it'll be your downfall."
"Divinity?" Rian snaps, standing up, sweat rolling down his face. "You barge into my head, hand me a flaming sword, and expect me to just roll with it? What kind of divinity lets a village burn?"
"I'm not here to save villages," Craevon says, tone ice-cold. "I'm here to guide you. Creation's rare, forbidden to mortals. Use it carefully, or the Gray Divinity will find you."
Rian clenches his fists, rage over the fire drowning out the confusion. Lina, perched on a nearby rock, covered in ash, twirls an improvised knife. Her brown eyes flicker, trying for lightness. "You're digging like you wanna bury the whole world, Rian," she says, forcing a grin. "And that sword last night… what was that? You go and become a Chosen One without telling me? Some friend you are."
Rian clamps his left hand tight, the purple "C" pulsing under his glove. "I'm no Chosen, Lina, you saw the test two years ago. That… just happened. And I told you: don't tell anyone. Nobody."
"Relax, I can keep a secret!" Lina shoots back, pointing the knife playfully but backing off when she sees his glare. "But, for real, a flaming sword? That's not exactly Rejeitado-stubborn-you vibes."
"Normal or not, I'm using it to find who torched the village," Rian says, pointing at wide footprints in the ash. A faint shimmer flickers in them, fading like smoke in the wind. "See that? Whoever did this uses divine weapons. I'm going after them."
"You're nuts!" Lina yells, hopping off the rock. "My mom… she was lost in the fire five years ago. Like yours. No way I'm letting you go alone, you idiot."
Rian freezes, her confession hitting him hard. "You lost your mom that day?" he asks, voice softer. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"
"Because talking doesn't fix anything," Lina says, eyes welling up. "But if you're hunting whoever did this, I want answers too. Stop digging and let me out here."
Rian looks at her, a faint warmth cutting through. "Fine. But no counting vines while we're moving."
Lina laughs, weak but real. "Hey, counting vines kept me alive!"
A low hum slices the silence. A small but vicious vine, spiked with glowing thorns, bursts from the ground. Rian shoves Lina back. "Create!" he roars, and blue-orange flames erupt, forming the Firebrand Blade. The heat sears his palm.
[Fire Sword Created!]
- 40/50 to Level 2
- Speed: 6
- Energy: 10/15
"Rian, left!" Lina shouts, grabbing a handful of glowing sap from the nearest tree. With a quick flick, she smears the sticky sap across the ground, making a slick trail. The vine lunges, but its thorns slide, throwing it off balance. "Now!" she yells.
Rian moves with Agility 6, sluggish like he's wading through mud, and hacks the vine with a Heavy Strike, ash bursting.
[Heavy Strike]
- Heavy Strike: 1/3 uses
- 20/40 to Level 2
- Strength: 10/40 to Level 2
- Energy: 8/15
A thorn grazes his arm, pain sharp. "Damn it!"
"I'll distract!" Lina shouts, snatching a dry branch and dipping it in the sap. She chucks the sticky branch at the vine's thorns, gumming them up for a split second. The creature hisses, split. Rian seizes the moment, cleaving it with a fiery arc.
- Strength: 15
- Energy: 7
The exhaustion hits hard, his Energy tanked.
"You okay?" Lina asks, panting, cleaning her knife. "Where'd you learn that sap trick?" Rian asks, impressed.
Lina smirks. "Improvisation, my dude. The world's my toolbox."
Rian dismisses the sword, eyeing the shimmering footprints, their glow nearly gone. A voice echoes in his head.
[Rian's Status]
Strength: 10/50 to Lv 2
Speed: 6
Energy: 7/15
Skills:
Fire Sword (20/50 to Level 3)
Fire Strike (10/50 to Level 2)
Heavy Strike (20/50 to Level 3)
"Those footprints… whoever left them isn't normal. And I heard footsteps. Chosen are heading back to the village."
Lina's eyes widen. "Chosen? If they spot you with that sword, they'll drag you off for questioning!"
"That's why we're leaving now," Rian says, pointing into the forest. "Before they get here."
"You're a trouble magnet," Lina grumbles, but follows, knife ready. "If we die, I'm blaming you."
"Hide the mark," Craevon warns, voice deep.
Rian and Lina plunge into the forest, crystals gleaming with cold light. The glowing footprints fade among the trees, the arsonist's trail leading them into the unknown. "You trust that sword?" Lina asks, dodging a branch, voice low.
"Dunno," Rian admits, hand on his glove. "Rian," he says, "but it's my best shot. I'm using it to make whoever burned the village pay."
"Then we're in this together," Lina says, dead serious. "But, Rian, if you turn into some cocky Chosen jerk, I'll kill you myself."
Rian laughs, the sound cutting through. "Deal."
Far off, Aric watches, hooded, his flaming blade pulsing in his grip. "He's weak, kid," Aric mutters, a cold smile creeping up. "He won't last long. But the Gray Divinity wants to watch him… for now."
Rian feels a chill but doesn't stop. With Lina beside him, the promise of revenge burns hotter than any flame, while Craevon's power pulses—a secret that could save him or destroy him.