[Already maxed out, Host.]
I snorted, rolling onto my back, still basking in the aftermath of a perfectly insulted Riven and the warm satisfaction of a full belly. Sunlight spilled through the crack in my window, painting a golden stripe across the ceiling. The system's blue window hovered above me, sparkling with possibility.
Skill point, huh? For the first time in my two lives, I actually had a choice about my own destiny. That thought alone made my chest feel a little lighter. Sarcasm might be maxed, but something else was calling my name.
"I want to put it into magic," I whispered, voice barely audible. "Fire magic, obviously. I want to see what I can really do."
[Excellent choice. Allocating skill point: Fire Magic.]
There was a sound, almost like the flicker of a candle being coaxed into a flame. Warmth surged through my body a slow, spreading glow that started in my chest and crept outward, tingling through my fingertips.
[Congratulations, Host. Fire Magic has advanced to Level 2.]
A cascade of notifications tumbled across my vision:
[Fire Magic – Level 2 Unlocked!]New Techniques Gained:
Flame Dart: A precise, needle-thin bolt of fire.
Ember Dance: Create small, harmless sparks for utility or distraction.
Shape Fire: Mold basic flames into simple forms for a limited time.
[Progress to next level: 1 Skill Point required, plus mastery of one additional technique.]
I sat up so quickly my blankets tangled around my ankles. "Wait shape fire? Like, actually shape it? You mean I can finally make something cooler than an accidental kitchen fire?"
[Correct. Host is encouraged to experiment. Just don't burn down the village. Or yourself.]
My mind raced. It was only midday; the world was bathed in lazy sunlight, the air outside buzzing with the sounds of children at play and distant gossip. For the first time, I didn't feel like hiding in my room or skulking behind houses. I wanted space, freedom a canvas for my newfound power.
I slipped outside, avoiding the kitchen (where my mother's wig catastrophe was still likely simmering), and wandered toward the old field behind the granary. It was mostly weeds and wildflowers, with a single, splintered fence marking the edge of the village. Perfect. No one ever came here, except the occasional goat. Even the goats had standards.
I found a patch of sun and sat down, crossing my legs. The grass prickled my ankles. Above, a pair of crows argued in a pine tree, clearly debating the merits of stealing someone's laundry.
"Okay," I whispered. "Let's see what you can do, magic."
I focused. Felt for that new warmth inside the flickering coal at my core, eager for air and attention.
"Shape Fire," I whispered, tentatively holding out my palm.
At first, just a single spark. Then a tiny flame a flicker the size of a mouse's tail. I willed it to grow, and to my delight, it obeyed, swirling into a little ball of orange and gold.
It hovered above my hand, dancing. Waiting.
I took a breath, heart pounding. I pictured a butterfly: delicate wings, a slender body, tiny antennae. Every detail as sharp as hunger, as precious as hope.
The flame began to shift, stretching outward, splitting into two thin, fluttering wings. The core of the fire narrowed, forming a tiny glowing body. Wisps of fire curled out, shaping into delicate antennae.
I stared, awestruck. The fire butterfly hovered above my palm, wings beating slowly, throwing dappled light across my face. It wasn't just beautiful it was alive, in that magical, impossible way only new things are.
The wind shifted. The butterfly's wings shimmered, gold at the center, edged with red and blue, a flickering mirage. It cast tiny sparks that danced across my skin warm but never burning.
I held my breath, barely daring to move. Was this really me? Arielle, the family disgrace, the girl who failed at everything, shaping fire into something beautiful?
A giggle escaped my lips. A real, delighted laugh.
[Achievement Unlocked: First Creation – "Butterfly of Ember"]
[Bonus: +5 EXP, +1 Charisma, +1 Magic Affinity]
[Current Stats:]
Name: Arielle
Level: 1
EXP: 55 / 100
HP: 30 / 30
MP: 24 / 24
Strength: 4
Agility: 3
Intelligence: 4
Willpower: 6
Charisma: 2
Magic Affinity: Fire – Level 2
Techniques: Fireball, Flame Dart, Ember Dance, Shape Fire
Status: Slightly less useless, considerably more smug
"Hey, System. How do I get Fire Magic to Level 3?"
[Acquire 1 additional skill point and master one more fire technique perhaps a 'Fire Shield' or 'Burning Blade'. Options will unlock as your affinity grows. Continue to experiment and practice.]
"I can do that," I whispered, watching my butterfly gently orbit my wrist.
The butterfly hovered close, then soared skyward in a sparkling arc, scattering embers through the air like petals.
I closed my eyes and let the sun warm my face, feeling something in me hope, maybe glow brighter than ever. Here, for once, I wasn't a servant, a scapegoat, a nobody. I was an artist, a creator, the first magician in my miserable family line to ever sculpt something out of pure, wild flame.
A passing breeze caught the butterfly, sending it swirling in loops. I stretched out my hand and willed it to come back. It landed, feather-light, on my finger, burning but not hurting.
I laughed again, softer this time.
"You see this?" I whispered to the empty field. "One day, I'll fill the sky with fire dragons, phoenixes, storms. I'll shape the world to my will, and no one will ever ignore me again."
The system chimed, almost… fondly?
[You have talent, Host. And, apparently, a flair for the dramatic.]
"Isn't that what magic's for?" I grinned, sending my butterfly into a spiral above my head.
A flash of inspiration struck me. I sculpted another fire shape a tiny fox this time, its tail a flicker of gold. Then a bird, then a swirling ring of fireflies. Each creation easier than the last, every success swelling my confidence.
I lost track of time, surrounded by dancing flames and the hush of the afternoon. For the first time, I didn't want to hide my magic. I wanted to share it, to paint the world in light.
When at last I let the flames fade, their afterimage hovered in my eyes a memory I would keep forever.
I stood up, brushing grass from my pants, and stretched my arms high. I was still alone, still the outcast, but I felt changed. The world suddenly seemed less terrifying, less cold. My power was real, and growing.
I strolled back toward the village, the system's voice a low hum in my mind.
[Well done, Host. You are one step closer to not being completely pathetic.]
"Thanks, coach. Maybe next time I'll make a fire-spitting Riven just for fun."
[Save it for a special occasion.]