The mana came too easily.
Ryu stood in the clearing, hand outstretched, flame dancing across his palm—unsteady, wild, but real.
"Again," Yui said softly.
He focused. The flame pulsed brighter.
Yui's brows knitted. "That's… not normal."
"I thought this was what you were training me for."
"Not this fast."
He let the fire vanish, frustration burning hotter than the magic. "So what—should I slow down? Pretend I'm weak?"
"No," she said. "Just… be careful."
But her voice wasn't warning. It was worry.
---
That afternoon, they reached a small village hidden between tree-laced cliffs. The people stared. Whispers followed.
Stranger. Mage. Branded. Cursed.
At the edge of the square, a boy pointed. "His chest glowed."
Ryu's hand went instinctively to the spiral mark.
The elders gathered. One stepped forward, robes brushing the earth. "You carry power you shouldn't. Not yet."
"I didn't ask for it."
"Exactly," the elder said. "Yet it answers you."
Ryu turned to Yui. "Say something."
She opened her mouth—then closed it.
Her silence was louder than the crowd.
---
That night, they camped beyond the village walls.
Ryu sat alone, flame flickering in his fingers. It obeyed him now—no struggle, no limit. That should've felt like progress.
But it felt… wrong. Too easy.
Too unnatural.
Yui approached, quiet as always.
"Why didn't you speak for me?"
She didn't answer at first. Then: "They're afraid. And I… wasn't sure they were wrong."
He stood, fists clenched.
"I didn't choose this power. I don't even know what it is."
"I know." Her voice cracked. "But neither do I."
For a moment, the fire in his hand surged—hot enough to burn through doubt.
He let it die.
Then turned away.
---
In the dark, the spiral sigil glowed faintly through his shirt. A gift, maybe. But also a warning.
He wasn't cursed.
He was changing.
And soon, the world would have to decide—
Fear him.
Or follow him.