"RUN!"
Michael shot up from his back, gasping for air. The sound of his mother’s screams bounced around in his mind, mixed with the thumping of his wildly beating heart. His eyes darted left and right, scanning the surroundings.
After a few monts of panic, reality set in. He had spent the remainder of last night running away from the tunnel’s exit after Rohan’s betrayal, not daring to take any breaks in case they decided to pursue him.
It was only after exhausting his frail body that he was forced to take shelter in a crook, located beneath a shelf of rocks. Michael had no ti to check for any beasts and could only pray that he would remain undetected.
He tried to calm himself down, but the vision of his mother beset on all sides by the unknown assailants plagued him, drowning him in despair. Mother... Michael gritted his teeth, feeling a sense of rage chew away from inside of him, fighting back against the despair.
"You bastards... I swear I’ll get my revenge." He cursed, making a vow despite knowing just how unlikely the notion was. Not only was he a white ringed Mage—the weakest of all mages—he was currently stranded in the wilderness.
But this didn’t matter to Michael, not now. He had been looked down upon his whole life, even with his status as the young master of the Aurelius family. Only one person had treated him with warmth and affection—his mother.
Michael wiped at the tears which had unknowingly began to stream down his face and lifted his aching body up from his hiding spot. He felt the hot breeze brush against his face, but he did not flinch.
"Those will be the last tears I shed until I take my vengeance." He stated, looking off into the distance. All that greeted him was silence and a barren land beyond, but he didn’t need a witness, this vow was between himself and the God’s.
Without another word, he trudged towards the wastelands.
A few hours went by before Michael was forced to stop, his frail body unable to keep up under the sweltering sun. Given that he’d not had any food or water since leaving the Aurelius Estate, he was running on fus.
I need water and food as soon as possible. His thoughts whirred while he tried to ignore the pounding headache which assaulted him. A pained expression crept onto his face as he looked at the white ring on his wrist.
"I have no choice..." He muttered.
Michael waved his hand before placing a finger above his open mouth. In the next mont, water trickled down which he promptly swallowed, doing his best not to spill a single drop.
While the water ran, the white ring dulled considerably. After a few mouthfuls, Michael was forced to stop, falling to his knees in the next mont from exhaustion.
"Damn it! Is that all I can manage?" He cursed bitterly.
Controlling the elents with his mana capacity was like trying to move a thousand pound boulder by hand. He might be able to nudge the thing, but it would leave him exhausted afterwards.
After a few monts, Michael sat down cross-legged and closed his eyes. He breathed in through his nose and out his mouth a few tis, trying to clear his mind.
Reaching out into the surroundings, Michael tried to locate any source of mana that might be able to replenish his small reserves. If he was near a Mana Spring, it would only take a few minutes for him to top up his small reservoir.
However, this was not Velmara City.
Michael frowned, barely sensing any mana in the surroundings. His eyes flashed open, as if he’d finally co to a realization.
"No way... It can’t be." A feeling of dread overca him as he muttered to himself. He slowly got to his feet, looking around the place as if seeing it for the very first ti.
The land was arid, almost like a desert. But there was no sand, no foliage and no obvious signs of water, only dirt. Apart from a few boulders scattered about, there were no landmarks that he could see.
"Is this the Mana Scarred Lands?" He whispered, his voice almost drowned out by a surge of hot air that assaulted him.
Michael braced himself against the strong breeze, but he slowly felt the strength drain from him in the process. Just the na ’Mana Scarred Lands’ were enough to extinguish whatever hope he had of getting through this ordeal alive.
Why did it have to be here? Is this why those people chose not to chase down? Amidst the despair, his sharp mind began to put the pieces together. The absence of beasts and his attackers were a clear indication that sothing was not right.
But if his theory was correct, then it explained both these things.
A serious expression appeared on Michael’s face as he ca to terms with his situation. He had been dealt a shitty hand many tis in life, but this was by far the worst.
The Mana Scarred Lands were a barren wasteland, damaged by an ancient war which decimated the continent almost 2 thousand years ago. The fallout from the war changed the landscape, turning it into a harsh and unforgiving territory that was void of any life.
A dark self-deprecating chuckle escaped Michael’s lips as he accepted his own situation. Even the strongest violet ringed Mages would struggle to survive out here, let alone himself—a pitiful 10-year-old weakling.
His mother had told stories of the horrors of this place, forbidding him from ever stepping near it. Yet by the cruelness of fate, he had been forced to flee here, or face death.
Michael turned slowly towards where he’d co from before returning his gaze to the wasteland. "If I return to Velmara City I will surely die, but to continue, death is all but guaranteed..."
He paused, letting his words settle. When every path led to death, what point was there to continue on? Why did he need to struggle, becoming so kind of entertainnt for the God’s.
A fierce grin crept onto Michael’s face as he made his decision.
"My fate has always been pitiful, a tragic joke that doesn’t know when to end... But you know what? I say Fuck you fate... Fuck you very much." Michael cursed wildly, feeling his body heat up in response.
His words were not sothing that one would expect from a 10-year-old, let alone one from such a prestigious family. Yet no one was present to reprimand him, nor would he care if soone did.
Alright, I need water, food and mana. Michael thought, trying to get his emotions under control. He looked up into the sky, feeling the intense heat from the sun bearing down on him and made a decision.
"I can’t afford to walk in daylight, it’s sapping too much of my strength." Michael muttered to himself, his eyes scanning the surroundings.
Normally, one wouldn’t want to walk at night since that’s when beasts were most active. However, upon learning that this was the Mana Scarred Lands, he no longer had to fear things like beasts.
But that didn’t an there weren’t other dangers which lurked around the corner.
With his energy recovered a little, Michael started his trek once more, this ti looking for a place to take shelter. As long as he could get so rest in the shade, he should be able to conserve enough energy to make so headway at night.
Thankfully, after half an hour of searching, he found a place to setup temporary camp. It was a deep crater, at least 30 feet tall. There were a few large jagged boulders which had fallen down, creating a makeshift shelter.
Michael hung his body over the edge and slid down carefully, arriving at the bottom of the crater in one piece. The first thing that he noticed was that the temperature was considerably cooler than up on the surface.
This, in addition to the shade, brought a sense of relief and security that he’d not felt in quite a while. But there was sothing a little off, evoking a sense of trepidation within him.
What is this weird feeling?
Michael scanned his surroundings, but there was nothing visible that should be making him feel such a way. Eventually, he decided to try and ignore it, crossing his legs and calming his breathing in order to focus.
ditation was sothing he learned early on, and despite his white ring, he was far more adept at utilizing it than others his own age. Not only did ditation allow one to focus, it also helped the individual to sense and absorb mana from the surroundings.
Yet as Michael entered his ditative state, he almost jumped in fright.
"W-What’s this?! A huge surge of mana heading this way?" He cried out in shock. This was the first ti that he’d sensed such a vast and dreadful mana, causing his face to visibly pale.
His first thought was that those n had finally co to finish him off, but he quickly discarded this notion. Not only was the mana far beyond what a green ringed Mage like Rohan could produce, it was also erratic.
Michael thought deeply, trying to put his finger on what could be the cause of the disturbance. But just as he was running out of ideas, his mory jolted.
"Mana storm... Shit!" He cursed.
The mana storm, a byproduct of the ancient war, native only to the Mana Scarred Lands. No one had experienced one and lived to tell the tale, or so the story went.
Michael peered around the boulder which sheltered him, looking up at the once clear sky begin to grow darker. Violet clouds swirled together ominously like a powerful typhoon ready to wreak havoc on him from above.
A crackling arc of mana struck through one of the clouds, causing an explosive thunder to ring in his ears. If that wasn’t enough, a haunting hum followed it, causing the hair on Michael’s neck to stand up in fear.
"This is it... This is how it ends." He mumbled, losing whatever stubborn hope he’d been clinging onto. In the face of such might, there was nothing that he could do to survive the incoming onslaught.
Michael’s throat was dry, causing him to let out a few pitiful coughs. There was not much ti before his body would be torn apart by the mana storm, so he gave in to despair.
"Fuck it, if I’m going to die, why should I suffer any longer?" He cursed, raising his hand above his mouth. Like that, he emptied his remaining mana reserves and called upon the water elent to at least quench his thirst.
Michael drank greedily, not caring if any drops were lost in the process. The white ring on his wrist flickered pitifully for a few monts before turning dull. A wave of exhaustion hit him, a sign that he’d depleted his mana.
But he didn’t care.
Instead, he laid back and decided to witness the mana storm in its entirety. It wasn’t often that soone got the chance to see such a majestic occurrence up close, yet Michael had front row tickets.
As the dark clouds rolled over, he began to feel a sense of dizziness wash over him. He tried to adjust his body, but soon noticed that he was paralyzed and unable to move. An incessant buzzing filled his mind, creating an obscene pressure which seed to bear down on him.
Michael’s breaths soon beca short and labored as the unstable mana in his surroundings pressed down upon him. It was as if he was a lemon, being squeezed until his insides ca pouring out.
It didn’t take long for him to succumb to the pressure. His 10-year-old body already exhausted from his long trek.
Michael took one last look at the sky before his vision darkened.
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