I peeked out the window, closed the curtains, and told her to hurry—that I needed to do something quick. Suddenly, she drew her weapon, a beautiful blade from the sheath on her thigh, and sliced her palm. As blood dripped, she clasped her hands, her fingers forming a mantra, and declared:

"From my blood, I shall be informed."
[Key: From my blood. Desire: I shall be informed.]

She said she'd create a unicursal hexagram. A symbol formed on the floor, and everything around us darkened. She warned:

"What you witness today stays buried. If not, I'll have to kill you to protect this family secret."

"Decoder key, conjured via a [Key: term used to invoke any spell] and mantra. Used to analyze and extract critical information about anything within the spell's projection range: person, spirit, or object."

When the seal formed, I expected to feel something… but nothing. I noticed Miriel was hyper-focused.

Me? I know jack about magic. Can't cast spells, create seals—nothing. The weird part? I can sense ether flow like everyone else. My master never lets me forget what a disappointment I am whenever he feels like berating me.

My only defenses are my shortsword—which I'm decent with—and elemental control. My grandfather claimed our race, the Supaibi, masters the basics as children:
• Hydrokinesis (Water)
• Pyrokinesis (Fire)
• Geokinesis (Earth)
• Aerokinesis (Air)

I've got good memory. Trained relentlessly to master the two most common elements: fire and earth. My master beat me so often I feared skipping training more than illness or storms. Missed holidays, prepped for the worst. Still, I trust his strength and word. He's like a father, though he denies it. Him and Grandma are all I have.

Fifty years ago, I woke in a warzone as a kid—mud-caked, clueless. Only remember two men dragging me through a storm. Feels like a chunk of my past is missing. Incomplete, like a mage without a staff.

Lately, it's worsened. Instead of growing stronger, my magic's fading. A door slamming shut.

Watching Miriel concentrate, I thought: If my only wish is to live peacefully with Kira as my girlfriend… or wife… imagine that! Lost in the fantasy, I grinned. The ultimate dream! A happily-ever-after like my master and grandma. Nothing'll stop it!

Miriel yanked me back to reality:
"Take off your shirt!"
"What?"
"Your shirt. Off. I need to see your back."
"Just so you know, I'm loyal to one woman—"
"Now, you stupid human."

Embarrassed, I hesitated—only my master and grandma knew about this. Her eyes widened as she gasped:
"By Holy Innocence! You're cursed. Sealed."
"Huh? That? It's harmless."
"Don, this is one of the worst seals. Whoever did this is rank six or seven. Insane! Only four rank sixes and one seven exist here. How'd a village brat like you piss off a first-division knight? You'd be dead. Who did this? Tell me." Her voice dripped with morbid fascination. "Elves are so random!"
"I… don't remember." Shit, I've said too much.
"What? Nothing?"
"Truth. Now what's your verdict?"

She eyed me, sensing my deflection but playing along.
"The seal on you… It's the Sigil of Twelve Kings. Forged by fallen King Tordontos—"
"The greatest mage ever. And?"
"—to imprison immeasurable power. Twelve monarchs' wills make it unbreakable. It stifles energy flow. Breaking it means catastrophe."

She leaned closer. "Who the hell are you to bear this?"
I stayed silent. Couldn't reveal I'm not human. She pressed:
"What's that mark on your neck?"
"Nosy much? Not your business, elf. Done?"
"Yes."

The seal vanished as she unclasped her hands. I ignored her, flopped on the floor, and pretended to sleep. Minutes later, she murmured she'd hit a block—something barred her blood seal, the Narzosas Seal, from probing me. Too powerful, she said.

"You wield two elements. Impressive for your race. But…"
"But what?"
"Your ether flow… It's weak. Training a lifetime just for this? Pathetic. Your flow's dying."
"Bullshit. Ether's our life force."
"Then you're dying. No symptoms yet, but you've lost one skill already, right? In five days, you'll lose everything. If you ever had it."

…

"I'm being honest. Skip tomorrow's trip. Go home. Most items on your list'll get you killed. But… you're interesting, human." She smirked. I glared, wondering what game she played.
"I'm sleeping. Want this over with. Goodnight, Miriel."
"Night, Don."

[After two silent hours, she called again, ruining my angry attempt to sleep.]

"Still awake?"
"Hearing voices… Or going mad."
"Come. Up here."
"You said no way in hell—"
"You'd rather play fool on the floor?"
"Fine."

I climbed in. The sheets were warm. Sleep beckoned, but she demanded:
"Show me your back."
"Why?"
"Check your wound."
"I'm fine."
"Show me, stupid human."
"Drop it, stupid elf."

She pinned me—no clue how—yanked my shirt, flipped me, and gaped:
"No scar? Where is it?"
"Maybe your spells healed me. Get off!" I shoved her aside.

After a pause, she asked:
"You're human… right?"
"Obviously. Let me sleep."
"Uh-huh. Night."

I almost asked about her dockyard pals but stopped myself. No need to spill my secrets. This journey'll get me killed if my powers fade.

Why overthink? I steadied myself. Master let me go—he must've foreseen safety. Glimmeria's vastness terrifies me: cultures, races, foods, customs. If I must travel with a meddler like Miriel, I'll earn cash and find a less annoying guide.

Dark thoughts resurfaced. Master's warning echoed: Never reveal you're not human. They'll hunt you like a goblin. And after nearly dying today… The world's not the fairy tale I imagined.

I'd pictured dawns with ethereal pink skies, magic academies, prodigies weaving blue fire whirlwinds. Streets smelling of golden spices and mythic meats. Taverns alive with bard songs.

But those tales are shadows. Fear stains history—the Underworld King's name erased, races forgotten, lands ash.

I thought of the gray-clad man who beat me, shaming years of training. Miriel's right—this isn't my path. Weakness means relying on others. Knights can protect us.

I'll live quietly. Open a shop, get rich, maybe noble. Kira as my wife—she knows my secret. Trust her completely. Even powerless, I'll adapt. Always have.

Today, tomorrow, forever.