The camp came together with practiced ease. Lysander pulled a sack from beneath his robe and, one by one, dragged out stools, canteens, and firewood. He then snapped his fingers at the wood with a muttered word. The fire caught instantly.
So the first casted spell I see in this world is a spark for a campfire. Quaint.
Rev took a drink and immediately passed out where she sat. Kyr fiddled with his knives. Lysander opened a notebook and ignored everyone.
I sat near the fire.
"Lysander, someone told me I don't have the talent for magery. Can you tell me why?" Orien mentioned my control was too poor, but I didn't really know what that meant.
He scoffed. "Truly? Anyone who can sense mana could tell. Your paths leak. You'll never contain energy properly."
"Is there training for that? A potion?" I figured Orien would've told me, but I asked anyway.
"You'd be wasting your time. Twenty years of your effort might match a single month of mine."
"And if I wanted to try anyway? Would you help?"
He looked like he'd rather be mauled by a Mawich.
"It'd be a monumental waste of everyone's time."
"Just teach him," Kyr said, still flipping his knife without looking up.
"Fine," Lysander muttered. "Take this."
He tossed me a rod. It was metal with a clear crystal mounted at the top.
"It's a casting tool. Most of them activate with raw mana, but this one's different. You have to say the spell out loud. The word is 'light.' It simulates casting without actual risk."
"Just 'light'?" I asked. I felt the rod tug at my core. A moment later, it lit with a soft, flickering glow.
Lysander stared, stunned.
"How… How did you do that? It shouldn't work on the first try."
"I just followed your instructions."
"That word has to be shaped with mana. You can't just say it. The tool is enchanted to mimic the drain of a real cast. If your flow is off, nothing happens."
He took a deep breath.
"You're telling me this is your first time?"
"Yes."
"I don't know what you're hiding, but unless you're the second coming of Saintess Thalia, you shouldn't be able to do that. Copying a spell after hearing it once? It should take years."
"I mean, I did, though."
And that was the start of it.
Lysander rattled off spell after spell, from simple one-word invocations to full sentences. Every time, I repeated them back. I didn't cast anything, just mirrored the pronunciation and mana shaping. Spellcasting had two parts: forming intent and executing it. He only tested the first.
After a dozen repetitions, he dropped his notebook.
"This is… inconceivable."
"Does this change your opinion on my potential?"
"No!" he snapped. "It makes it worse. Normally, leaky mana paths mean someone can't learn magic. But you? You have no trouble learning. You just can't control it. Weak spells are fine. But anything with power? You'll blow yourself up."
So according to Lysander, my dreams of becoming a mage were dead. But I wasn't convinced. I could learn spells at an unprecedented rate. There had to be a way I could use it.
While he spiraled about the tragic absurdity of my situation, I turned my focus inward, to the Birthright.
There was more to it than I'd been told. I had sensed the Mawich before I'd seen it, and I wanted to know if I could do it again.
I closed my eyes and concentrated on the center of my forehead, where the power lived. I didn't activate it. I just let it settle.
Shapes began to form in the dark. Kyr, flipping his knife. Rev, breathing steadily. Lysander, scribbling furiously. It was like watching outlines through fog—blurry, incomplete, as if I needed glasses for my sixth sense.
Eventually, the strain built into a headache, and I pulled out.
Still, I smiled. It was the first thing I'd learned on my own since coming here. Not some reflexive survival move. Not an accident.
A skill. A real one. Something I could build on.
It took another hour before the compass finally stopped spinning.
"The compass locked on." My voice cut through the silence.
Rev shot up from her bedroll like she hadn't just been snoring two seconds ago.
"'Bout time," she muttered, stretching. "So? You gonna finally tell us what we're out here for?"
I hesitated, then answered. "A tiger den."
Everything stopped.
Rev froze mid-stretch. Kyr turned his head. Even Lysander blinked.
Rev's expression twisted for the first time since I'd met her.
"You've gotta be fu—Lys, you were right. This spoiled blue blood's gonna get us all killed."
Before I could explain, she marched over and scooped me off the ground like I weighed nothing.
"I'm taking you back to the guild. Mission's over."
"Put me down!" I struggled, but she held tight.
"No. I vouched for you, thought maybe you weren't as reckless as Lys said. But dragging us into a tiger den? That's suicide. If you wanna die, fine—but not on my watch."
Kyr and Lysander didn't argue. They were already packing to turn back.
I couldn't let them leave, and I couldn't let them take me away. Everything hinged on this.
I released my Birthright.
It struck like a wave, dropping all three of them to their knees. Rev let go instantly, eyes wide with instinctive fear.
When they looked up, I was already pulling the mask from my face.
"I am Prince Darian Serathorne of Velmyra," I said, voice steady. "This mission was given to me by the royal family. You will obey."
Rev's face went pale.
"Y-your Highness… I—I didn't know—"
"You acted on good instincts. That's no crime. You're forgiven—so long as you obey me now."
She opened her mouth to protest.
"Enough." I cut her off. "I know what a tiger is. What it can do. You think the court doesn't?"
The truth was more complicated. Mirelle hadn't sent me in blind. Tigers, especially the highborn breed in this forest, carried a natural aura—a primal version of the Birthright of Dominance. Strong enough to ward off most predators without lifting a claw.
But she hadn't sent me to fight. Only to steal.
Tigers were gone from their dens for days, sometimes weeks while they hunted for their young. Their aura served as a barrier while they were out. Most wouldn't dare cross it. But my ability to pierce Birthrights should work on aura's as well.
The compass was crafted to locate a cub who was recently left by their mother. No fight needed.
I let up on the Birthright. One by one, they got to their feet, shaken but silent.
"We'll obey," Rev said, voice low. They didn't have a choice. A royal's command wasn't something you argued with. Minor nobles might ruin your career. Royals could erase your family line.
"Then let's move."
We continued, but the easy rhythm from before was gone. Rev's usual swagger had given way to quiet tension. I felt a pang of guilt. I had liked the way things were.
Eventually, the trees gave way to a sheer cliff, its surface pocked with dark caves. I felt the pressure before I even saw them, an oppressive weight that rolled over me like fog. A tiger's aura. The same shift that let me endure Birthrights still held, but this was different. Beneath the weight was something more primal, a deeper terror that the auras I'd encountered before didn't carry. The others weren't so lucky, but they managed to stay standing.
"Fall back," I said. "Stay outside the aura's reach. If I'm not back in two hours, assume I'm dead."
They didn't argue. They bowed and stepped back.
I scanned the cliff face, following the compass. The needle pointed to a single cave near the middle, with no others above or below. It had to be the one. I found a narrow path leading up, just wide enough to climb.
As I started up, I realized the sword at my waist made things harder. I tried to push mana into my limbs to strengthen myself, but I didn't know how. With a sigh, I set the sword down and climbed.
The path was crude but clearly carved. Footholds, worn and deliberate. That alone was unsettling. Did the tiger make these?
I reached the cave and pulled out the magic rod Lysander had given me. I never returned it, and I was suddenly glad. The inside of the cave was pitch black.
I stepped inside. It was spacious, enough to stand. The tunnel twisted and veered away from the compass at first, but soon curved back.
Then I saw it.
A tiger cub, curled atop a pile of animal pelts, fast asleep.
It should've been endearing—but the furs were neatly arranged, cleanly cut. The nest was too intentional. Between that and the carved footholds, I started to wonder just how intelligent these creatures were.
I hesitated.
The thought of taking this cub, of dragging it from a home built with care, made my chest tighten. I reminded myself why I was here. Ella needed this. Mirelle needed it. And I would make sure she didn't do anything cruel. Still, my conviction felt thin.
The cub yawned and lifted its head, blinking sleepily at me. I froze. It stepped forward, sniffing the air.
Then, casually, it bit my hand.
I flinched, swore, and pulled away. It just licked its lips and rubbed against my leg, purring like a housecat.
"This would be a lot cuter if you hadn't just drawn blood," I muttered.
Still, I reached out and scratched behind its ears. This time it didn't bite.
"See you soon, little guy."
I draped the teleportation scroll over its back. In a flash of light, the cub vanished.
Time to go.
I retraced my path and rejoined the others. They blinked in surprise as I emerged, unharmed.
We set out quickly. Kyr, ever the scout, led us back without needing a map.
But our luck didn't hold.
A crashing sound tore through the woods—something massive barreling through the underbrush. We froze.
The tiger hit the clearing like a storm, swiping aside trees like tall grass.
It was bleeding, limping. Recently wounded. Probably left its cub behind and came back early.
And I'd touched it. Its scent was all over me.
Rev's voice trembled, but she kept her blade ready.
"Prince... you better have something up your sleeve."
Lysander had his staff drawn, one knee on the ground. Kyr was crouched low, daggers in hand. All of them terrified, but still ready to fight.
I racked my brain. I couldn't just shield them from the pressure. Even if I clashed Birthrights with the tiger, the effect wouldn't protect them.
"How can I lessen its influence on you?" I asked, still watching the beast.
Rev answered through gritted teeth. "They focus their aura on the greatest threat. If you can get its attention..."
I nodded.
"I'll draw its focus. On my signal, strike."
They gave quick nods. I stepped forward and met the tiger's eyes.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
Its pupils dilated. Something behind those eyes understood me.
It lunged.
I flared the Birthright at full force, locking its gaze to mine. The air snapped with pressure as the two forces collided, space crackling between us.
Rev was the first to move. She charged in, sword raised. Kyr vanished around the tiger's flank. Lysander chanted—Sprint with the Wind. Kyr blurred forward. The next spell was out before I'd even registered the first—Enhance.
Rev's blade came down hard, but the tiger twisted midair and knocked her away. She managed to block, barely. Lysander shouted—Shield. It softened the blow, but she still crashed through a row of trees.
Kyr's dagger sank deep into its side. The tiger didn't even flinch. It barreled straight toward me.
I didn't move.
Through my Birthright, I could feel Rev trying to get up. Too far. Too slow.
I lifted my sword.
Then I tried something stupid.
"Enhance burn."
Two words. One guess.
I channeled the spell into the blade, hoping it would catch fire, maybe scare the beast back.
It didn't catch fire.
It turned white hot. Instantly.
My mana surged out, uncontrollable. My leaking paths dumped everything I had into the blade. Royals had a lot of mana.
The sword exploded.
At the same moment, the tiger lunged, jaws wide, aiming to tear through both arms.
The blast tore through the clearing. I hit a tree hard.
And then everything went black.