The sun dipped below the tree-line, casting long shadows over the forest path as Ray and his four companions trudged home from their training grounds.
Sweat glistened on their brows, their breaths visible in the crisp evening air.
"Sir Ray," Garrett began—a burly young man with short black hair and the blacksmith's son—his voice tinged with curiosity.
"How is it that your aura is blue, while ours, when we manage to manifest it, barely glows yellow?".
Ray exhaled, his gaze distant.
"Good question. It's because I was born with an affinity for the water element. Unfortunately, I failed to even manipulate the simplest spell, let alone master it."
"But when I started using aura, that latent power influenced it, turning it this color." His voice grew quieter, as if brushing against memories he'd rather forget.
"Oh." Garrett murmured.
"So your elemental gift made your aura stronger?" Edric—a dark-haired farmer's boy—asked.
Ray's tone sharpened. "Actually, you're might be wrong there."
"Huh?!" The group gasped in unison.
"Chaos manipulation and elemental manipulation are entirely different. Think of them like oil and water." Ray turned to Edric.
"Elements come from pure mana, and can be cultivated within the body. While the aura we use though, is born from raw mana—which is mostly known as chaotic mana."
"It's unstable, riddled with impurities, and dangerous. Every time you wield aura, you're gambling with your life… you know." He added before continuing.
"That's why aura demands a lot of concentration from the one using it. And when used well, it's a blessing of formidable strength, on the other hand, can be a curse that will cripple you or lead you to your untimely demise."
Tomas, the youngest, paled. "So… we shouldn't use it?"
"Recklessly? No." Ray smirked, "But train hard enough, and you'll bend it to your will—like I did."
"You are very knowledgeable Sir Ray. Where did you learn all this?" Ian, the son of the local tavernkeeper commented from the side in awe.
Ray winked. "A magician never reveals his secrets." Then, softer;
"But don't worry. I'll help you all get the hang of it."
~A few hours earlier in Ray's home~
Davin froze as he gazed into his mother's eyes.
'Shit, how did I forget to use my internal monologue earlier.'
[You already messed up host, so you better cook something.]
'Damn it!'
"M-my imaginary friends…" The boy said with the hope that she will buy it. But instead of responding, she bent down in front of him. Her gaze fixated on him.
"Your mama is good in knowing when a person lies. So tell me Davin, who are you talking to?" Her eyes became teary as she stared at him. Seeing her sad expression, Davin was surprised and felt an ache within his little heart.
This was the first time he had seen her like this.
'Guess I have to come clean.' He thought with a sigh. Davin then opened his mouth to begin his explanation so that he can sooth the overprotective beauty in front of him.
"I—" Before he could talk a notification sound interrupted him.
[WARNING]
[DISCLOSING THE SYSTEM'S EXISTENCE IS PROHIBITED!]
"Huh!?" He gasped as he clutched his head due to the sudden loud ringing sound that came from nowhere.
Seeing his reaction, Gaela concluded that something was wrong and immediately, with a brief glow of her eyes, released an ethereal golden energy towards him…
When the loud ringing ceased, Davin found himself staring at his mother whose body lay unconsciously in front of him.
"What the heck!" He gasped as he moved towards her.
The moment he touched her hand, it was cold and motionless which shocked him to the core.
"Mother!?" he called out to her, while repeatedly shaking her body.
[She's a really brave one.]
"Huh? What do you mean?"
[She used her soul to forcefully try to enter your subconsciousness.]
"What… how? And why did she do that?"
[She wanted to know what was hindering you from speaking further, I guess. As for how she did it, even I myself have no clue.]
"Mother…" Davin spoke as his eyes begun tearing up. His memories running back to his past life when an almost similar incident like this happened.
~Earth, year 2016~
The golden hues of the setting sun bled through the half-open curtains, casting long, trembling shadows across the sterile hospital room.
The air was thick with the scent of antiseptic and the faint, lingering trace of lavender—her favorite. Eleven-year-old Dave stood beside the bed, his small fingers clutching the cold metal railing.
His mother lay there, frail as a wilted flower, her breaths shallow, each one a battle.
Cancer had stolen her strength, her laughter, even the warmth of her hands—now thin and cool against his.
But it hadn't taken her eyes. Those were still hers. Still soft. Still full of love.
"Come closer, my little leo," she whispered, her voice fragile.
Dave swallowed hard, his vision blurring as he leaned in. He wanted to be brave—for her. But the weight in his chest was crushing.
She lifted a trembling hand and cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing away a tear he hadn't realized had fallen.
"Don't cry," she murmured. "The sun has to set… but that doesn't mean the light is gone."
His lip quivered. "I don't want you to go."
A weak but tender smile touched her lips.
"I know, my love. But listen to me—really listen." She took a slow, rattling breath.
"You are so much stronger than you think. And kindness? That's your superpower. Never lose it, no matter how dark the world feels."
Outside, the sun dipped lower, painting the room in shades of amber and sorrow. The machines beeped softly, a cruel reminder of time slipping away.
She squeezed his hand—once, twice—a silent language only they understood.
"When you miss me," she whispered, "look at the sunset. That's me… telling you to keep going."
Dave's throat burned. He wanted to scream, to beg the universe for more time. But all he could do was nod, pressing his forehead against hers, memorizing the feel of her skin, the sound of her voice.
And then, as the last sliver of sunlight vanished behind the horizon… so did she.
The room fell still.
And for the first time in his life, Dave felt truly alone.
But in the silence, in the ache, her words echoed—'keep going'.
And so, through the tears, he had to.