Volume 1 · Chapter 1
Chapter 1 — My First Fallacy
One month before the Great Veyloria Tragedy In the Village of Eld
Rain.
That was the first thing I felt.
Cold drops struck the back of my neck, slid down my hair, and gathered at the tip of my chin before falling into the mud beneath me.
I was kneeling.
My hands were pressed against the ground, fingers sinking into wet soil. No matter how hard I tried to move, my body would not listen. My arms trembled, my chest burned, and my breath came out broken, like I had been running for a very long time.
Why was I here?
I lowered my gaze.
In a small pool of rainwater before me, I saw my own reflection.
A boy with dark, soaked hair. Wide eyes. A face covered in dirt and rain.
My face.
But something about it felt wrong.
I looked older and younger at the same time. Like I was staring at myself from a place I was never supposed to reach.
Then, through the ripples in the water, I saw light.
Orange.
Red.
The reflection twisted.
I slowly raised my head.
My house was burning.
Flames crawled across the wooden walls, swallowing the windows, devouring the roof. Smoke rose into the stormy sky like a dark hand reaching toward the heavens.
No.
My throat moved, but no sound came out.
I forced my body forward. My knees dragged through the mud. My hand reached out, trembling, stretching toward the house that had always waited for me at the end of every day.
The place where Mother’s voice greeted me.
The place where Father’s hammer rang from morning until dusk.
The place where Elene laughed when she thought no one was watching.
My fingers reached for the flames.
Just a little more.
Just a little—
“Azoth!”
I shot upright.
My hand was still reaching forward.
But there was no fire.
No rain.
No mud.
Only the bright morning sun pouring through my bedroom window, warm against my palm.
For a moment, I stared at my hand as if it belonged to someone else. My fingers slowly curled, grasping nothing but light.
My heart was beating too fast.
“What… was that?”
The dream was already fading.
The burning house, the rain, the mud—it slipped away like water through my fingers. I tried to hold on to it, but the harder I tried, the less I remembered.
There was only one feeling left.
I had lost something.
Something important.
“Azoth! Are you awake yet?”
Mother’s voice came from downstairs.
I blinked.
The fear in my chest loosened a little.
“Y-yeah! I’m awake!”
“You don’t sound awake,” she called back. “Didn’t you say you had something very important to do today?”
Something important?
I looked around my room.
My practice tools were still scattered across the desk. A dull practice dagger, a cracked blue mana crystal, and a small hammer father had given me two years ago.
Beside them sat the weapon I had been working on for the past week.
A small magic dagger.
Or at least, it was supposed to be one.
The blade itself had been shaped properly. The weight was balanced. The handle fitted nicely in the palm. Even Father said the structure was not bad.
But it was just plain and dull.
No glow.
No pulse.
No response.
Just a piece of metal that couldn’t become something more.
I let out a small laugh.
Kind of like me.
I stared at it for a few seconds before remembering what day it was.
“Ah.”
Today was the day.
I threw off my blanket and jumped out of bed, nearly tripping over the boots I had forgotten to put away the night before.
“Coming!”
After washing my face, I looked at myself in the small mirror by the window.
Same face as always.
Messy hair. Sleepy eyes. Nothing special.
Definitely not the face of someone chosen by destiny.
I slapped both cheeks lightly.
“Okay, Azoth. Today is important. Don’t mess it up.”
The boy in the mirror did not look convinced.
I headed downstairs.
The smell of warm bread greeted me before Mother did. She stood near the kitchen counter, tying a cloth around a small bundle of food. Her hair was loosely tied behind her, and even from the doorway, I could tell she had already been awake for hours.
She always was.
“Good morning,” I said.
Mother turned and smiled.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.”
“I’m not a sleepyhead. I was just… thinking.”
“In bed?”
“That’s where I do my best thinking.”
She laughed softly and placed the food bundle into my hands.
It was still warm.
For a second, I forgot about the dream completely.
“Where’s Father?” I asked. “And Elene?”
It was unusual for both of them to leave the house so early in the morning.
Mother’s hands paused.
Only for a moment.
But I noticed.
She turned back toward the counter, pretending to adjust something that did not need adjusting.
“Your father took Elene to the workshop early this morning.”
“Oh.”
The word came out lighter than I expected.
The workshop.
Of course.
Father’s workshop was where he forged tools, repaired weapons, and crafted magic arms for hunters, knights, and the occasional traveler from the capital. It was also where Elene had recently started spending more and more time.
Because Elene could see mana.
Not feel it.
Not sense it vaguely like most adventurers.
See it.
Elene once told me that mana flowed like colored threads through the air. In crystals, it looked like tiny rivers trapped inside glass. In weapons, it moved through engraved circuits like glowing veins. To her, the whole world was filled with it—colorful, vibrant, and full of life.
It was a rare gift.
The kind of gift that made adults lower their voices when they talked about her.
The kind of gift that made Father’s eyes shine with pride.
And the kind of gift I did not have.
I could shape metal. I could carve circuits. I could memorize formulas and repeat every step Father taught me.
But I could not feel mana.
Not even a little.
To me, mana crystals were just pretty stones. Magic circuits were just lines cut into steel. A completed magic weapon looked no different from a broken one until someone else told me which was which.
I was twelve.
Elene was nine.
And somehow, my little sister was already standing somewhere I could not reach.
Mother looked at me carefully.
“Azoth…”
I smiled before she could finish.
“That’s good,” I said. “Elene has talent. Father should teach her properly.”
Mother’s expression softened, but it also became sadder.
I hated that.
So I made my smile wider.
“I mean it. If she can see mana, then of course Father would want her help. It’s useful for crafting magic weapons, right? She can notice problems that normal people can’t.”
“Azoth, you are not just a normal person.”
I laughed.
“Mother, I can’t even tell if a mana crystal is active unless it explodes in my face.”
“That happened once.”
“It was a very educational explosion.”
She sighed, but I saw the corner of her mouth lift.
I looked down at the food bundle in my hands.
“Besides, I’m proud of her. She’s my little sister. If she becomes famous one day, I can tell everyone I taught her how to tie her shoes.”
“You taught her wrong.”
“She still learned.”
Mother gave me a look.
I held my smile.
A small lie.
Mother reached out and gently fixed the collar of my shirt.
“You really are a kind boy.”
I did not know what to say to that.
Kind.
It sounded like something adults said when they could not find anything else to praise.
Elene was gifted.
Father was skilled.
Mother was strong.
And I was kind.
I lowered my eyes.
“Thanks.”
Mother must have noticed, because she placed her hand on top of my head and ruffled my hair.
“Do not make that face. Your path does not need to be the same as Elene’s.”
“I know.”
“You say that too quickly.”
“I know slowly, then.”
She laughed again.
This time, I laughed too.
The strange heaviness in my chest faded a little more.
After breakfast, I packed my things and put on my boots. The village outside was already awake. I could hear the distant sound of chickens, the creak of wagon wheels, and old Mr. Bell shouting at someone for stepping too close to his vegetable field.
A normal morning.
A peaceful morning.
Nothing like that dream.
I opened the front door.
Warm sunlight spilled across the floorboards.
Behind me, Mother called out, “Azoth.”
I turned.
She stood by the table, arms folded, trying to look serious.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
I tilted my head.
“That doesn’t narrow it down much.”
Her eyes sharpened.
“Azoth.”
“I’m joking.”
“Do not enter the western woods.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Do not touch unstable mana crystals.”
“That happened one time.”
“And do not come home covered in mud.”
“That also happened one time.”
“But make sure you come home in one piece, okay?”
I remembered the dream.
Rain. Mud. Fire.
My smile faltered for half a breath.
Mother noticed.
“Azoth?”
I shook my head.
“It’s nothing.”
Then I gave her my usual grin.
“I’ll be back before sunset.”
“You had better be.”
I stepped outside.
…
The village of Eld stretched before me, wrapped in morning light. Wooden rooftops glowed gold beneath the sun, smoke curled from chimneys, and flowers along the path swayed gently in the breeze.
For some reason, I looked back at our house.
It stood quietly behind me.
Safe.
Whole.
Not burning.
I let out a breath I did not know I had been holding.
Then I turned toward the village road.
I did not know it then, but that morning was the beginning of the last peaceful day of my life.
One month before the Great Veyloria Tragedy In the Village of Eld
Rain.
That was the first thing I felt.
Cold drops struck the back of my neck, slid down my hair, and gathered at the tip of my chin before falling into the mud beneath me.
I was kneeling.
My hands were pressed against the ground, fingers sinking into wet soil. No matter how hard I tried to move, my body would not listen. My arms trembled, my chest burned, and my breath came out broken, like I had been running for a very long time.
Why was I here?
I lowered my gaze.
In a small pool of rainwater before me, I saw my own reflection.
A boy with dark, soaked hair. Wide eyes. A face covered in dirt and rain.
My face.
But something about it felt wrong.
I looked older and younger at the same time. Like I was staring at myself from a place I was never supposed to reach.
Then, through the ripples in the water, I saw light.
Orange.
Red.
The reflection twisted.
I slowly raised my head.
My house was burning.
Flames crawled across the wooden walls, swallowing the windows, devouring the roof. Smoke rose into the stormy sky like a dark hand reaching toward the heavens.
No.
My throat moved, but no sound came out.
I forced my body forward. My knees dragged through the mud. My hand reached out, trembling, stretching toward the house that had always waited for me at the end of every day.
The place where Mother’s voice greeted me.
The place where Father’s hammer rang from morning until dusk.
The place where Elene laughed when she thought no one was watching.
My fingers reached for the flames.
Just a little more.
Just a little—
“Azoth!”
I shot upright.
My hand was still reaching forward.
But there was no fire.
No rain.
No mud.
Only the bright morning sun pouring through my bedroom window, warm against my palm.
For a moment, I stared at my hand as if it belonged to someone else. My fingers slowly curled, grasping nothing but light.
My heart was beating too fast.
“What… was that?”
The dream was already fading.
The burning house, the rain, the mud—it slipped away like water through my fingers. I tried to hold on to it, but the harder I tried, the less I remembered.
There was only one feeling left.
I had lost something.
Something important.
“Azoth! Are you awake yet?”
Mother’s voice came from downstairs.
I blinked.
The fear in my chest loosened a little.
“Y-yeah! I’m awake!”
“You don’t sound awake,” she called back. “Didn’t you say you had something very important to do today?”
Something important?
I looked around my room.
My practice tools were still scattered across the desk. A dull practice dagger, a cracked blue mana crystal, and a small hammer father had given me two years ago.
Beside them sat the weapon I had been working on for the past week.
A small magic dagger.
Or at least, it was supposed to be one.
The blade itself had been shaped properly. The weight was balanced. The handle fitted nicely in the palm. Even Father said the structure was not bad.
But it was just plain and dull.
No glow.
No pulse.
No response.
Just a piece of metal that couldn’t become something more.
I let out a small laugh.
Kind of like me.
I stared at it for a few seconds before remembering what day it was.
“Ah.”
Today was the day.
I threw off my blanket and jumped out of bed, nearly tripping over the boots I had forgotten to put away the night before.
“Coming!”
After washing my face, I looked at myself in the small mirror by the window.
Same face as always.
Messy hair. Sleepy eyes. Nothing special.
Definitely not the face of someone chosen by destiny.
I slapped both cheeks lightly.
“Okay, Azoth. Today is important. Don’t mess it up.”
The boy in the mirror did not look convinced.
I headed downstairs.
The smell of warm bread greeted me before Mother did. She stood near the kitchen counter, tying a cloth around a small bundle of food. Her hair was loosely tied behind her, and even from the doorway, I could tell she had already been awake for hours.
She always was.
“Good morning,” I said.
Mother turned and smiled.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.”
“I’m not a sleepyhead. I was just… thinking.”
“In bed?”
“That’s where I do my best thinking.”
She laughed softly and placed the food bundle into my hands.
It was still warm.
For a second, I forgot about the dream completely.
“Where’s Father?” I asked. “And Elene?”
It was unusual for both of them to leave the house so early in the morning.
Mother’s hands paused.
Only for a moment.
But I noticed.
She turned back toward the counter, pretending to adjust something that did not need adjusting.
“Your father took Elene to the workshop early this morning.”
“Oh.”
The word came out lighter than I expected.
The workshop.
Of course.
Father’s workshop was where he forged tools, repaired weapons, and crafted magic arms for hunters, knights, and the occasional traveler from the capital. It was also where Elene had recently started spending more and more time.
Because Elene could see mana.
Not feel it.
Not sense it vaguely like most adventurers.
See it.
Elene once told me that mana flowed like colored threads through the air. In crystals, it looked like tiny rivers trapped inside glass. In weapons, it moved through engraved circuits like glowing veins. To her, the whole world was filled with it—colorful, vibrant, and full of life.
It was a rare gift.
The kind of gift that made adults lower their voices when they talked about her.
The kind of gift that made Father’s eyes shine with pride.
And the kind of gift I did not have.
I could shape metal. I could carve circuits. I could memorize formulas and repeat every step Father taught me.
But I could not feel mana.
Not even a little.
To me, mana crystals were just pretty stones. Magic circuits were just lines cut into steel. A completed magic weapon looked no different from a broken one until someone else told me which was which.
I was twelve.
Elene was nine.
And somehow, my little sister was already standing somewhere I could not reach.
Mother looked at me carefully.
“Azoth…”
I smiled before she could finish.
“That’s good,” I said. “Elene has talent. Father should teach her properly.”
Mother’s expression softened, but it also became sadder.
I hated that.
So I made my smile wider.
“I mean it. If she can see mana, then of course Father would want her help. It’s useful for crafting magic weapons, right? She can notice problems that normal people can’t.”
“Azoth, you are not just a normal person.”
I laughed.
“Mother, I can’t even tell if a mana crystal is active unless it explodes in my face.”
“That happened once.”
“It was a very educational explosion.”
She sighed, but I saw the corner of her mouth lift.
I looked down at the food bundle in my hands.
“Besides, I’m proud of her. She’s my little sister. If she becomes famous one day, I can tell everyone I taught her how to tie her shoes.”
“You taught her wrong.”
“She still learned.”
Mother gave me a look.
I held my smile.
A small lie.
Mother reached out and gently fixed the collar of my shirt.
“You really are a kind boy.”
I did not know what to say to that.
Kind.
It sounded like something adults said when they could not find anything else to praise.
Elene was gifted.
Father was skilled.
Mother was strong.
And I was kind.
I lowered my eyes.
“Thanks.”
Mother must have noticed, because she placed her hand on top of my head and ruffled my hair.
“Do not make that face. Your path does not need to be the same as Elene’s.”
“I know.”
“You say that too quickly.”
“I know slowly, then.”
She laughed again.
This time, I laughed too.
The strange heaviness in my chest faded a little more.
After breakfast, I packed my things and put on my boots. The village outside was already awake. I could hear the distant sound of chickens, the creak of wagon wheels, and old Mr. Bell shouting at someone for stepping too close to his vegetable field.
A normal morning.
A peaceful morning.
Nothing like that dream.
I opened the front door.
Warm sunlight spilled across the floorboards.
Behind me, Mother called out, “Azoth.”
I turned.
She stood by the table, arms folded, trying to look serious.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
I tilted my head.
“That doesn’t narrow it down much.”
Her eyes sharpened.
“Azoth.”
“I’m joking.”
“Do not enter the western woods.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Do not touch unstable mana crystals.”
“That happened one time.”
“And do not come home covered in mud.”
“That also happened one time.”
“But make sure you come home in one piece, okay?”
I remembered the dream.
Rain. Mud. Fire.
My smile faltered for half a breath.
Mother noticed.
“Azoth?”
I shook my head.
“It’s nothing.”
Then I gave her my usual grin.
“I’ll be back before sunset.”
“You had better be.”
I stepped outside.
…
The village of Eld stretched before me, wrapped in morning light. Wooden rooftops glowed gold beneath the sun, smoke curled from chimneys, and flowers along the path swayed gently in the breeze.
For some reason, I looked back at our house.
It stood quietly behind me.
Safe.
Whole.
Not burning.
I let out a breath I did not know I had been holding.
Then I turned toward the village road.
I did not know it then, but that morning was the beginning of the last peaceful day of my life.