Chapter 4: Chapter 3: Forging
The grand chamber of the Valdene Estate Mansion radiated with the homely allure of the roaring fireplace, reflecting the perfect blend of age-old rustic charm and unassuming grandeur. It was a physical embodiment of the family's time-honored heritage. Atop his father's sturdy shoulders, Darius Valdene, a boy of just four years, made his entrance into this captivating room. His position made him feel an unexpected sense of safety, even while his cheeks flushed with a hint of embarrassment. Despite his youthful innocence, his demeanor carried an unusual depth of wisdom and maturity, a strange contrast to his tender age.
Behind those azure-blue eyes and beneath his short black hair, lay a profound secret. Darius was no ordinary child; within his youthful frame resided eight centuries of accumulated knowledge.
His new father, Jarek Valdene, The Blue Wolf, a towering figure with battle-worn scars adorning his body, put Darius down, a proud smile playing on his lips. He kneeled and held Darius's shoulder, a protective gesture that echoed the nobility and honor of his knightly title. "Amara," he addressed his wife, his voice resonating throughout the grand chamber, "our son has learned to read."
Amara Valdene, a woman of resplendent beauty with long silver hair and emerald eyes, was a mage specializing in water magic. Her aura was like a cascade of water, serene yet powerful, belying the formidable prowess she held. She turned to them, her eyes reflecting a mother's adoration and a mage's curiosity. Her lips parted in surprise and delight, "At just the age of four?"
Darius nodded earnestly. He had always been a voracious reader, sating his thirst for knowledge, and retaining his past life's memories had given him an unprecedented head start. He wished he could share more, share the vast sea of wisdom he had gathered over his previous lifetime, but he had to maintain his cover. His intense yearning for cultivation could wait, he reminded himself.
His parents shared a competitive look before they asked him why he was so adamant about learning to read by himself. Darius held his gaze steady, "I wanted to be strong, like you." His voice was barely a whisper, yet it echoed the determination of an experienced cultivator. "And it only counts if I do it myself." His parents' smiles widened, their chests swelling with pride.
Jarek chuckled, a proud glint in his eyes. "That's the spirit of a true knight." He saw in Darius a steel resolve that would shape the finest warriors, while Amara sensed the seeds of a mage, a seeker of arcane knowledge.
A fresh wave of excitement swept across Amara's face, her eyes glittering with anticipation as she stepped forward. "Let me tell you about the mages, Darius," she declared before Jarek could even open his mouth, her enthusiasm palpable.
Jarek let out a low groan of disappointment. "I wanted to go first," he murmured, but he quickly composed himself to listen attentively.
Amara continued, her voice animated as she weaved an alluring tale of the Mage Towers' long history and the inception of the Arcane Ascendancy System. "These towers stand as a monument of our magical prowess. They were first built during the Age of Twilight and have been home to the most skilled mages in Gaia," she narrated, her eyes gleaming with excitement.
Darius, with his mind in overdrive, asked inquisitive questions that seemed oddly out of place for his age. "But how does one become a mage?" he asked. "How do they absorb and harness mana?" His mind was running rampant, hungry for information about this world's cultivation system.
"Well, Darius," Amara smiled, "It's all about learning to control magical energy, casting spells, and developing your mana into something called aura. But you'll learn all about that when you're a bit older."
Her words painted a hazy picture of the mage's journey through the various stages of power, from the initial stages to the highest tier. "The highest rank a mage can attain is the Archmagus," she explained, her voice filled with awe. "They have a stunning aura and can cast spells that are beyond imagination! Only eleven have ever reached that level in the entire world."
Though Amara's enthusiastic narrative was meant to captivate a young, impressionable mind, Darius found himself grappling with an internal turmoil of frustration. She talked of magic and grand adventures with such childlike excitement, a story tailored for a four-year-old's ear. However, he was no ordinary child. His mind, saturated with the wisdom of Xue Feng, strained against his youthful disguise.
The alluring grandeur and power of a Tier 9 mage echoed in Amara's words, setting off a spark of anticipation within him. Yet, every mention of the mage's journey reminded him of the vast amount of time he would need to traverse. 'To be patient and bide my time,' he thought, the sentiment tasted sour, knowing what it feels like to stand at the heights of power.
Jarek knelt down, meeting his son's gaze with an eager twinkle in his eye. "Let me tell you a tale, Darius, of knights and magic," he said with an air of excitement.
"Once upon a time, during a great and terrible war, there were knights. Brave but normal. Then, powerful mages gave them magical gifts. Now, they were no ordinary knights. They were Manaforged Knights, stronger, faster, and more powerful."
His voice turned solemn. "Some of these knights made a terrible mistake. They betrayed their old kings. But when the war ended, they sought forgiveness. They created the Penitent Knights Union. They wanted to make things right again."
Then, his voice lifted in a wave of enthusiasm, "They built their home in a place called Avalon. It's a grand fortress where they train to be the best knights they can be."
"Darius, these knights are special. They wear armor made from their own magical aura. It grows piece by piece as they become stronger. Gauntlets first, then more and more until they wear a full suit of shining armor."
He smiled, finishing the story with a flourish, "That, Darius, is the grand tale of the Manaforged Knights."
Darius felt a swell of frustration. His parents' tales, while captivating, were too simple for his aged mind. Yet, he was acutely aware that his four-year-old self couldn't possibly prod further into the intricacies of mana cultivation or circulation without arousing suspicion. So, he concealed his frustration and masked it with the innocent curiosity expected of a child his age.
However, his parents' next words caught him by surprise. "Darius, my love," his mother, Amara, said with a warm smile, "how would you like to explore the Valdene Library?" An unexpected thrill danced through his veins. The library, a trove of untapped knowledge, was within his grasp. As his surprise gave way to anticipation, he dreamt of the secrets and stories that lay waiting for him.
Inside Darius, the seasoned cultivator Xue Feng regarded the offer of the Valdene Library with tempered eagerness. "A repository of wisdom," he thought. He was no stranger to the thrill of new knowledge, but the calm river of his centuries-old wisdom held the exhilaration at bay.
The tales of knights and mages piqued his interest - the intricacies of mana, a puzzle waiting to be solved. "Understanding awaits in the heart of those texts," he contemplated with resolute determination.
His reflective mood was suddenly interrupted when his mother, with an uncanny ability to derail his deepest brooding, placed a tender kiss on his forehead. "You can think more about this tomorrow, my little wolf. It's time for bed," she chimed, as though dismissing an ancient cultivator was the most natural thing in the world.
Before he knew it, Darius was cradled in his father's muscular arms, leaving the grand chamber's impressive spectacle behind. The swift transition from the churning sea of thoughts to his warm, cozy bed was almost comically abrupt. As he was tucked into bed, his parents leaned in to give him a goodnight kiss, making Darius feel like a much-loved toddler. A surprising wave of affection washed over him, and he decided he wasn't averse to the idea of being a four-year-old at times.
As the room dimmed and his parents left, Darius lay there under his soft covers, pondering the odd mix of frustration, anticipation, and now a strange, newfound warmth in his heart. "Why did I like that?" He mused with a hint of surprise. The question lingered as he fell asleep, his dreams already filled with visions of the ancient texts he'd encounter the next day. He couldn't help but smile as he drifted off. Tomorrow was going to be interesting. And with that thought, the room faded into silence, the soft, peaceful breathing of a child echoing the rhythm of his extraordinary journey ahead.
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