“Why are you awake, son?”  The man, my buyer, Eric, had walked into wherever I was being held.

Crap. How’d he know? I held my eyes closed, but I could see the light of his torch dancing from beyond my eyelids.

“Don’t play dead with me. I’ll make your acting a reality.”

Oh really.

“And lose sixteen copper pieces and a Sek?” I asked as I opened my eyes to find him staring at me, eye twitching. He was tall, taller than my crappy excuse for a guide had been even, and thick around the waist, looking just shy of overweight underneath a fancy-seeming two-piece vest and cloak. He had short, stubby limbs that looked odd in comparison to his long torso, and a severe, furrowed face that looked as though he’d been through enough life to know some things.

“Shut up brat. And potential Sek,” he corrected. “I may not want to kill you, but I will if I have to. I’m also not opposed to causing pain to achieve obedience.” He tapped me on the floor with his boot, but it was too gentle to really seem threatening. I could tell all he saw was a child he wanted to keep from misbehaving.

I didn’t mind.

“I’ll repeat my question. How are you awake? Your previous owner–well, I suppose you thought he was your guide,” he said, “promised me a few more hours, at least.”

“I have a fast metabolism,” I lied, having no clue myself. He grunted as I picked myself up off the ground. It was, once again, a subsection of a tunnel, closed off by wooden walls.

“And a rather extensive vocabulary for a prepubescent child, it would seem,” he said, gesturing to a doorway behind me. I walked through it, seeing as how since I was trapped in the body of a child, there wasn’t much else I could do.

We walked, and he proceeded to give me a little introduction to how he ran things. And by introduction, I meant he threatened to have me fed to wolves every other sentence, and told me if I tried to escape, even if I did make it past his guards, I’d starve to death in the tunnels before I found my way out. I believed him.

He wasn’t just your run-of-the-mill slave trader. He was what was called a Mentor. They picked up slaves they deemed had potential, trained them, and then set them loose in the Arena, which was exactly what it sounded like. A bloodbath of gladiatorial fights.

“You, my boy, are going to be put through perhaps the finest training system there is for a no-good slave brat such as yourself. You will be taught the basics of Vibra, swordplay, tactical decisiveness, and of death. We have approximately five or so months until the Grand takes place, and you best be prepared.”

He led me through yet another door, ad through another series of tunnels as we spoke.

“We’ll start with Kiri, see if Shaek was telling the truth about you.”

My face darkens at the mention of the conman, and Eric laughs.

“You should be thanking your lucky stars boy that he found you first. Anybody else, and you’d already be working the mines.”

Great. Guess I’m stuck.

But there was no way in hell I’d be staying here.

***

Eric’s complex was immense, from what I could tell. It seemed like the size of a small farm, but all underground. We walked past small, padded rooms occupied with sweaty, grimy men flipping each other over in contests of strength, or clothed in leather armor, practicing with long, two-handed swords. There were glowing rooms filled with a variety of bioluminescent crops being tended to by all ages of women and bunked rooms filled with children barely older than me fast asleep. Most fascinating of all were the rooms full of books. I kept a record in my head of the turns we took, and of what I saw, and where I saw it as Eric strode on ahead, long legs easily outpacing my twelve-year-old form.

We stepped through a set of brightly colored double doors out onto a platform that had a balcony, the edge dropping off into the void. It seemed almost as though we had stepped outside into a moonless night, but I knew better.

He must really value this Kiri, given that she has not just her own room, but an entire cavern-balcony.

“Kiri, this is–ahem.”

He sighed.

 “Kiri,” he repeated. A small, feminine figure with long dark hair sat cross-legged on an upraised ledge facing away from us, but didn’t turn around. Eric walked up behind her, tsking. 

“Kiri!” he shouted into her ear. 

She flinched, turning her head around to us. “Ye–ye–yes?”

“This is your new awakener.”

I was stunned. From behind, I’d assumed she was a child, barely older than my current form, but something about her screamed experience, none of it pleasant. It was her eyes, I decided. Her dark eyes–they stopped me completely. They had a quiet knowing that shouldn’t exist in someone so young. Like John’s eyes, almost. They saddened me, and I didn’t fully know why.

She was on the smaller side, but definitely still older than I’d thought, maybe sixteen, seventeen at most, with thin, fragile shoulders that looked forced into their straight-backed posture. Her skin, like everyone else down here, was awfully pale, like she hadn’t ever seen the sun. 

“I’ll leave you two to get acquainted.”

Eric left through the doors, leaving me with Kiri. She turned the rest of her body to face me, still cross-legged on her pedestal. 

“What’s your name?” she asked me kindly after the doors swung shut behind me.

I realized I’d been staring and my face began to burn.

“Uh...Al–Alex,” I stuttered. She smiled a little, corners of her full lips turning upwards.

She stood up in a fluid motion, extending a hand. I walked forward and shook it.

“Hi, Alalex. I’m Kiri,” she said, soft eyes twinkling.

“Are you mocking me?” I asked.

“Maybe a little,” she laughed. She swept past me, to a large armoire situated next to the double doors.

“So where did they find you?” she asked, rummaging around inside the armoire.

“I’m not uh, really from this world,”

“You really came through the portal, then?” she asked quickly, turning around. Her hands were filled with an assortment of scrolls.

“W-well,” I stuttered, “yes. I suppose.”

“You suppose?” She lifted a brow.

“I’m not really sure. I fell asleep in my world, and woke up in yours.”

“I see. Well, you must have some questions, then, and I’m sure Master Eric has been less than helpful.”

“You’re saying you’ll actually answer them?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Alal, go ahead.”

“My name isn’t–” She smiled and I realized she was teasing me again. I felt a flash of irritation but remembered. I look twelve years old to everyone. It’s only natural for them to patronize me.

“So Eric–”

“Master Eric,” Kiri corrected me.

“Master Eric,” I tried again, “mentioned something he called Seks and said I had the potential to become one. Does it have to do with leveling up?” I checked the level indicator on my HUD, while I spoke, trying to put the pieces together myself, “Does everyone start at level one? We had a similar system in our world, but only in video games,” I explained.

“You don’t...level up, as you said you do in your world,” she pronounced the words as if they were foreign, her face a little puzzled, “but you can awaken. In our world, there are awakeners, who have the potential to become Seks and non-awakeners. You’re an awakener, child.” 

Child. As if she’s not a teenager like me. Still, that’s interesting. So it’s not likely that other people see the HUD. Are they the equivalent of NPCs?

I tried to examine her objectively as she spoke, but she met my gaze and I lost focus, flushing and looking away.

But she’s so...real. 

I realized that had I met her outside this video game dream world, or wherever I was, I’d be crushing on Kiri. I was anyway, I realized, the heat in my cheeks intensifying. She was yet another girl I’d normally avoid out of necessity–in order to not make a fool of myself. But now she was my teacher, it seemed.

“Awakeners are people, usually children, who are beginning to manifest their talents but haven't quite sparked their core yet. With little push, they become ready to pursue the Sek Arts.” 

I remembered Eric saying something about seeing if Shaek was telling the truth.

She must be the one to give the push, then, if I was brought to her first.

“What is Vibra, exactly? Eric mentioned it before. And what are cores? Oh, and how are they ‘sparked’? And finally, you said Sek Arts, plural, which implies more than one.” She nodded approvingly as I spoke.

“At least you’re asking the right questions. Where to start? Hmmm. Well, Vibra is the most common Sek Art, the creation and manipulation of heat, of fire.”

“You mean like–”

She opened her palm upwards in front of me, eyebrows tightening. A spherical flame burst into existence above her palm, blasting the cavern with heat and light. As quickly as she summoned it, she closed her palm, and it dissolved. I blinked, eyes re-adjusting to the dark.

“Oh.”

“Oh indeed.” She smiled again.

“As for your other questions, well, they’re a little harder to explain. A person’s core is usually somewhere in this area,” she said, smiling while jabbing me in the stomach, and when I gasped she laughed–a sharp laugh that bounced around the cavern, warming it far better than the fire had.

She continued. “Its size dictates your capacity to store and eject the energy, or Qi, which, in the case of Vibra, creates the fire you just saw.

“An average core size is about as big as the person’s fist, and it grows proportional to your body, generally. There are outliers, however, some as small as a pearl, some, very few, with cores as big as watermelons, their Qi output truly terrifying.

“Cores are sparked by...stress. In an awakener, only a high amount of physical stress–along with the right mental manipulation, and the body will activate the core. This comes at a price, a higher energy price. You’ll have to eat more, drink more, to make up for it.”

That made sense, to an extent. A higher metabolic rate induced by an extra activated energy system that could likely ignite particles in the air.

“Finally, the Sekura Arts, or the Sek Arts. You’ll really only ever hear, see, or learn about two of them, the first of which is Vibra. The second is Parma, more commonly known as shielding. Most of it is subconscious and it revolves around protecting your body from Vibra, hence the name. Then there’s Dura. There’s not a lot of information on the Dura Art, the most I know is that it’s supposed to be the elemental opposite of Vibra. There’s only one practitioner still alive that we know of, and he’s a reclusive member of the royal family.”

I pondered that for a second. Dura. So like water or ice, I’d guess. A relatively simple magic system then, fire and ice.

“Finally there’s the unnamed transfer art, partly because it’s relatively new, and partly because it’s still not fully understood. It’s all about transferring raw energy from one body to another. It also happens to be the reason why Eric brought you to me.”

“So you can transfer energy?” I asked, catching her drift. She nodded.

I squinted as the pieces began to fall in place. 

“Do you use it in the awakening process–oh!” I cut myself off, putting two and two together as I spoke.

 “So that’s why Eric values you so highly,” I ended lamely.

She paused.

“You know, you’re a little too perceptive for someone so young,” she said.

Crap. I have to remember to pretend to be twelve.

I shrugged.

“It’s not that hard to figure out. You’re the only one with a full room to yourself.” 

Her eyes twinkled, and I could tell she liked me.

“I suppose that makes sense. To answer your question, however, yes, transferring energy allows me to simulate stress on the body of an un-sparked individual without undue physical damage.” 

She watched me, gauging my reaction. My mouth opened before I could stop myself.

“Undue physical damage? How is physical stress applied without the transfer art?” I asked. Will I have to go through this?

Kiri hesitated before answering. “Beatings, usually.” She was gripping her arm unconsciously, and for the first time, I noticed the scars that wrapped around her forearm. They looked like burns.

She noticed my gaze and stopped herself, placing her arms behind her back.

“Regardless, this bypasses the old methods and makes the process of awakening no longer an all or nothing proposition. None of the awakeners die, and more awaken, given that you can create more stress than would otherwise be possible without running the risk of killing the subject. Unfortunately,” she glanced at me apologetically, “this means the process can sometimes feel worse than death.”

Great.

“What’s the ratio for awakeners?” I asked, changing the subject.

“What is...ratio?” Her puzzled face from when I mentioned leveling up resurfaced.

Lmao. Must not have the internet here.

“Uh...Let me rephrase. How often do people awaken?”

“Oh, it’s a rare thing. Commoners awaken maybe one in a thousand, maybe even less. It’s a bit different for nobles, more like one in a ten. And almost every royal family member awakens. It’s expected of them.”

“Oh. I see.”

I tried to block the apprehension that continued to fill me at the realization that awakening was going to be incredibly painful.

“Are you worried?”

I didn’t answer.

“Well, you have the right to be, I won’t lie. But it’s not always the most painful. As a rule, the less pain required, the stronger the Sek. So It’s only the unfortunate few that awaken under ridiculous pain. If the pain becomes that intense, it may not be worth it to awaken in the first place.”

“So when will you help me awaken?” I asked.

“Tomorrow. Today all we’ll do is a quick reading,” she walked over to me as she spoke, and placed one hand on the upper area of my stomach, closing her eyes, “just to make sure you’re an awakener.”

And if I’m not?

I flushed once more at her proximity.

Her brow furrowed, and I felt the spread of...something. An almost warm, liquid sensation, moved through my gut and into my chest before it turned cold, suddenly. Freezingly so. She withdrew her hand sharply, and I stumbled back.

“Huh.”

“What was that?” I asked. She had a weird look on her face, but it disappeared before I could make out what it was.

“Well. You’re definitely an awakener,” she said, distracted. She walked over to her armoire.

“Okay,” I said dumbly, massaging my chest.

“You should probably go eat.” 

“I have more questions–”

“Not now,” she cut me off. She called out, not to me, I realized, “Lee!”

A shorter, heavyset man with a bulbous nose and broad shoulders slid through the double doors with a questioning look.

“Escort Alex to the kitchens. Have him fed, please.”

She wouldn’t look at me and instead continued rummaging around in her armoire.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Alex,” she said quietly as I passed her by. Lee, the bulbous nose guard, pushed me through the doors before I could form a response.