"Does he ever rest?" Thalrygos wondered aloud, his voice laced with paternal concern as he glanced toward his wife. She spent more time with Dravion on a daily basis, tutoring him in literacy.
"No..." Elyssira shook her head, worry flickering in her sapphire dragon eyes. "Ever since he learned how to read, he hasn't left this library. At first, I was happy—proud that he was interested in books." She sighed heavily, her fingers fidgeting as if searching for reassurance. "But now, I wonder if it's doing more harm than good." She gripped her dragon tail gently, twisting the tip between her fingers in a nervous habit.
They watched as their dragon child flipped through pages with unwavering focus, his sky-blue eyes locked on the text. He was like a sponge, soaking in every word.
Even though he had created every creature in this world, he had noticed that the power system had evolved beyond his control. Back when he shaped the universe and breathed life into all the species, he made them powerful—not quite as strong as himself, but still capable of traversing space without needing breath.
Eventually, he'd grown bored of the mighty. So, he created mortals to liven up the realms. Even they could once reshape mountains with ease. The essence of life had burned brightly in their hearts. Now... it still glowed, though subtly changed.
In his mind, he read each word aloud from the ancient tome on the history of power and its workings:
"When a dragon, or any other creature, is born, a core forms within their heart—housing a mysterious substance known as mana. It was the name given by the Old Creator, the progenitor dragon who birthed all."
Good. At least they still remember I created them, he mused.
"Each child is born with this core, yet they cannot fully awaken it until they grow older—for reasons still unknown. The process begins with the heart's bloom. The Bloom marks the awakening of one's potential. Upon reaching six years of age, a child becomes strong enough to endure the ceremony. It's an ancient ritual that tests mana purity, elemental affinity—natural and unnatural—and physical potential."
Interesting... Dravion thought, still engrossed.
He sat up straighter, eyes sharpening as he analyzed the mortal system of power.
So it's still similar to how I designed it... Mana resides in the heart-core and flows through the bloodstream. Its color and scent reveal purity and latent potential. I remember crafting it this way. But this... this is new.
There are now seven stages of mana purity... and ten stages of bodily evolution. With each breakthrough, one's strength multiplies exponentially.
So they've built upon what I gave them... not bad.
"Father, Mother. Explain to me mana purity—and how do I determine mine?" His voice carried genuine curiosity. He hoped his mana was pure. If it wasn't, it could stunt his growth. He hadn't seen any signs that his divine power would return—not yet. Maybe it was because his soul was only a sixteenth of what it once had been. That fragment, that limitation… it might be the reason he couldn't recover.
So, he made a silent vow in his heart: I will train as a mortal. Then, I will rise back to what I once was. No... beyond that. I will use this mortal system as the foundation for my rebirth. This time, I won't let the universe collapse and demand my sacrifice. I will rebuild what was broken.
The two parents exchanged a glance, uncertain whether answering was a good idea. Sometimes, the boy's questions felt far too mature for his age—but he was their child. Their blood. They had no reason to suspect anything unusual.
"Alright then," Elyssira said softly, settling beside him after pulling an ancient tome from the shelf. "This is the Tome of Mana, written by the great ancestor Myrrakthul, millions of years ago. Let's read it together."
Her voice carried warmth, and the motherly love in her tone washed over Dravion's godly heart. It made him feel cherished. Cared for. It was a feeling he had grown addicted to—intoxicated by.
Thalrygos watched them with a warm smile. He sat beside them, duty forgotten. Something told him this was a turning point in his son's life—one he could not miss.
Elyssira opened the tome, its pages thick and aged, lined with glowing script only visible under draconic blood. Her voice softened as she read aloud, letting the ancient words shape her explanation.
"Mana Attributes," she began, tracing the title with her finger.
"The color of one's mana reflects its quality and purity. The weaker the shade, the more chaotic or impure it tends to be."
She glanced at Dravion, who was already sitting perfectly still, eyes locked on the page.
"Listen carefully, my little star. There are seven known shades of quality:
Murk Grey means unrefined and unstable mana—dangerous and hard to control.
Dull Red is weak and coarse… often found in wounded warriors or failed cultivators.
Azure Blue represents balanced mana, the first sign of true purity.
Verdant Green grows from there—mana of adaptability and nature, flexible and alive.
Silver White is refined mana—elegant, focused, precise.
Golden..." Her voice slowed. "Golden mana is nearly divine. It flows without flaw—awakened only by those destined for the stars."
She turned the page carefully.
"And finally—the last color, lost to time. Its nature unknown. But legends whisper that when it appears, a new ruler of the universe will be born. One with the potential to reshape fate itself."
Dravion's breath caught in his throat. Even I can't tell what color it is, he thought, a flicker of intrigue sparking within him. But let's see if I can surprise them all when the time comes. I hope… I awaken the legendary one.
She smiled softly. "There's more."
"Scent," she continued, "is a rarer trait. Not every test picks it up. But masters can sometimes smell the mana flow in others." She chuckled lightly. "Weak mana often smells metallic. Or… burnt." She took a deep breath in.
"But divine mana can release a fragrance like flowers, or stardust."
She paused, letting the words sink into him before turning to the next section.
"Now, there are seven known stages of purity. Advancing through them marks your growth—and your limit. Once one is born with it, it can not be changed, your destiny is marked in stone," she said with a heavy sigh, most likely hinting at herself.
"Raw Flow – unstable, newborn mana.
Cleansed Stream – the first wash of order.
Harmonized Pulse – balance begins.
Crystal Current – clarity, refined focus.
Sacred Flame – rare, potent, deeply spiritual.
Godblood Essence – only awakened by those chosen.
Origin Pulse – perfected mana. Rare beyond rare… Theorized to have once been used by the Dragon Progenitor himself."
She closed the tome slowly and looked at him with a proud smile.
"So, when you ask about your mana, my son… these are the things you must look for. Color. Scent. And the strength of the current in your veins."
"So, what about my mana?" He asked, impatience lacing his tone. "Will I only know when the ceremony comes?"
"Yes, but it will be soon," she replied softly, her voice gentle as she kissed his forehead. "One blink, and you'll already be six years old..."
"Now," Thalrygos rumbled with a grin, his voice booming through the library, "how about I explain to him how the body evolves as we power up?"
Before Elyssira could protest, he was already scooping Dravion into his arms, laughing heartily. He too wanted to be a hero in his son's story.