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Chapter 64 - Storm Touched

  The walking calamity stared back. For a moment, time seemed to stand still.

  Rowan felt the charge in the air, the invisible weight of it pressing against his skin. Arcs of lightning pulsed beneath the creature’s shifting form, crackling like a caged beast.

  Suddenly, a stray spark lashed out, colliding with his [Gust].

  It wasn’t even an attack, just a raw, directionless flicker of the Elemental’s Intent.

  Yet even just that was enough to nearly unravel Rowan’s working.

  He gritted his teeth, flaring [Iron Will] as he fought to keep his spell intact, wrestling with his mana to keep the circuit flowing.

  Calm, he reminded himself. Stay calm.

  The [Gust] swirled around him like a living barrier—not strong enough to dispel the foreign mana, but that wasn’t his goal. Rowan wasn’t trying to push it away. He was trying to interact with it.

  Sweat dripped down his brow as he held the Elemental’s gaze. The creature loomed over him, taller than the walls of some castles, but its size wasn’t what set Rowan on edge. No, it was something deeper—a palpable weight emanating from it.

  Seconds stretched into minutes. He didn't move. Didn’t think. Rowan just stared into the heart of the storm.

  Then, without warning, the Elemental reached out. Not with its body, but with its mind.

  The impact hit Rowan like an avalanche, a silent detonation in his skull. Thoughts crashed into one another, raw and unfiltered.

  Irritation. Disapproval. And beneath it all, just the faintest hint of curiosity.

  Rowan seized onto that sliver of interest like a drowning man clinging to a buoy.

  He tried to respond, but the attempt felt clumsy, like speaking in a language he’d barely heard in passing. Instead, he focused on impressions—memories of his journey through the Stormspire Heights, his intentions laid bare. He poured them into the makeshift link, hoping some semblance of understanding got through.

  The [Gust] stirred, shifting with the Elemental’s current.

  The storm didn’t answer. The Elemental merely observed, unhurried. Unconcerned. Rowan, on the other hand, was sweating through his coat. Every second he remained alive was a victory, but how long would that last?

  Something shifted.

  As the wind howled around him, Rowan found himself falling into a strange rhythm—not meditation, but something close. A balance between force and surrender.

  They pushed and pulled at each other through their magic, the [Gust] bending and twisting in response to the Elemental [Gale]. And through it all, Rowan could almost feel the creature’s emotions—faint, foreign, but decipherable.

  Then, something unexpected happened.

  A new emotion took precedence. Not aggression. Not warning.

  An offering.

  The Elemental wanted to give him something, and Rowan suddenly felt very unsure.

  I need to accept, he decided a heartbeat later. I doubt it’ll take no for an answer anyway, so let's see what it's got.

  The Elemental’s Intent pressed against his mind—vast and impersonal. It wasn’t a question, yet nevertheless, Rowan said yes.

  The storm shifted. Lightning arched across the creature’s form, crawling over its cloud-like limbs before spiraling downward. Rowan barely had time to brace himself before a single spark broke free—small, and seemingly insignificant compared to the raw power radiating off the creature.

  It struck his chest, and something inside him snapped.

  Rowan’s Core lurched, the Fire and Wind inside it surging to meet the foreign energy. For a moment, they clashed—Fire flaring in defiance, Wind twisting in confusion. But then the spark reached deeper in, settling at the center of his Core.

  His mana bent.

  It wasn’t stolen, or consumed.

  It was reshaped.

  The tiniest sliver of his Fire and the lightest touch of his Wind got pulled together, fused by the Elemental’s Intent. And then, like thunder booming before a storm, a new force awoke inside him.

  Lightning.

  The realization hit Rowan like a sledgehammer, leaving him breathless.

  He felt it. Not just the heat, not just the force, but the nature of what it was. It wasn’t some foreign concept invading his Core anymore. It was his, created from something that was already there.

  The Elemental rumbled, its overwhelming presence withdrawing. The wind around him calmed, not gone, but settling for the moment.

  Rowan exhaled, his breath shaky.

  Then came the pain, and before his mind could fully register its scope, Rowan’s body slumped to the ground, eyes closing as unconsciousness claimed him.

  Core: Orange [29%] → Orange [23%]

  .

  .

  .

  Rowan’s sleep was deep and restless. His body tossed and turned, the residual effect of the Storm Elemental’s touch piercing through the haze of unconsciousness. The lightning coursing through his channels still hadn’t settled, and as it arched through his body, Rowan convulsed.

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  Something warm and comforting settled against his side, a soft note entering his ears. It didn’t deal with the pain, but the fear Rowan didn’t even know was there ever so slowly receded.

  .

  .

  .

  A day later, Rowan finally awoke.

  He groaned, blinking open his eyes and rubbing the sleep away.

  The first thought that passed through his mind was, Damn, I can’t believe I’m alive. With the second being, What in the Nine Hells is going on here?

  There were a lot of things Rowan expected to see once he woke up, but Kai play-fighting with a group of Mist Wraiths was as far down the list of possibilities as it got.

  His familiar flew around the group, dodging their outstretched hands with ease, his happy trills echoing through the larger cavern. There was a playfulness to his movements, the kind Rowan didn’t think he’d ever see around a group of monsters.

  With effort, he pushed himself upright, glancing down in surprise at the makeshift blanket that covered his legs.

  “Huh,” he muttered, pulling it off.

  As soon as he did, a change went through the cavern. The dozen or so Mist Wraiths stopped what they were doing and turned, their ethereal heads pointed in his direction.

  Kai stopped as well, glancing around in confusion, probably wondering why the play stopped. Then the little menace noticed him, and like a bolt of lightning, he barreled straight into Rowan’s chest.

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he chuckled, lightly stroking his feathers. “Told you I’d get us out.”

  Kai hit him with his wing.

  “Hey! Be careful. I’m wounded and in need of care,” Rowan said, unable to keep the smile off his face. “But I’m guessing you’ve been doing exactly that, haven’t you?”

  Kai nuzzled into the palm of his hand, letting out a soft trill.

  “Thanks, buddy,” Rowan whispered, his tone filled with gratitude. “And sorry for worrying you.”

  Suddenly, a single Wraith floated closer, and every muscle in his body tensed.

  Kai sensed his discomfort and intervened, standing in front and pecking at the approaching monster. It didn’t seem to mind all that much, simply floating through his steadfast guardian.

  Unlike the ones Rowan had fought before, this one held its Mist close to its body. There was still a chill in the air, but he didn’t feel anything threatening coming from the Spirit.

  Slowly, it reached out towards him with a transparent limb. Rowan did nothing to stop it. The spectral hand gently pressed against his forehead, which was quickly followed by a soothing feeling that chased away his lingering ache.

  Rowan blinked in surprise.

  Did it just… heal me? he thought, his gaze focused on the Spirit.

  Its task seemingly done, it drifted back to the group, standing at the entrance to the cavern once more.

  “Okay, I officially have no idea what’s happening,” Rowan muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Kai, you feel like clueing me in?”

  A dismissive caw was his response.

  Rowan snorted, standing up.

  The first thing he did after that was pull up his notifications, and what he saw made his jaw drop.

  Core: Orange [29%] → Orange [23%]

  Congratulations! You have gained the tier-two affinity, [Lightning]!

  Congratulations! You have gained the Trait, [Storm Touched]!

  Congratulations! You have gained [+15] Intelligence.

  Congratulations! You have gained [+15] Willpower.

  Congratulations! You have gained [+15] Focus.

  “What the fuck,” Rowan whispered, his hands shaking.

  Pulling up his stats only confirmed it, and he just as quickly found himself back on the floor.

  Name: Rowan Undomniel-Athalin

  Title: [Duke of Eiseylth]

  Trait: [Immortal Soul], [Storm Touched]

  Core: Orange [23%] [10 Levels]

  Affinity: Fire, Wind, Lightning

  Body: Bronze II [2 Level]

  Skills: [Iron Will] (Adept)

  Level: 12

  Strength: 19

  Dexterity: 35

  Vitality: 30

  Intelligence: 65

  Willpower: 42

  Focus: 45

  Doing some rough calculations in his head revealed that he now had the stats of someone close to level forty. His Intelligence alone put him on par with any Yellow-Core mage, and his martial stats were similar to some of the weaker Silver-ranks.

  But all of that paled in comparison to the fact he now had a gods-damned tier-two affinity.

  Lighting, at the palm of his hands.

  With bated breath, Rowan closed his eyes and looked inward, seeking out the spark.

  A second passed, then another, and then a few more.

  Rowan frowned.

  Where is it?

  He could feel the ever-burning presence of Fire in his Core, accompanied by the gentle flow of Wind. But the fierce intensity of Lightning was nowhere to be found.

  Digging deeper revealed nothing. Everything was as it always was. Besides his enlarged reserves, Rowan couldn’t find even a hint of his new affinity.

  That didn’t mean he stopped trying.

  Rowan could hear Kai flying around—probably pestering the surprisingly friendly specters—but he ignored it. His mind stayed focused on the task at hand, observing his Core from every possible angle, turning it over in his head and trying to penetrate deeper in.

  A minute passed, then an hour, and with absolutely no sign of Lightning, Rowan reluctantly gave up. At least for now. Besides, it wasn’t like he didn’t have other things to think about. The main one being that he had a new Trait. Something he didn’t even know was possible.

  Rowan had learned that Traits were given out at birth. Not something you could gain by a random encounter with an Elemental.

  “Storm Touched,” he whispered thoughtfully. “Now, what exactly does that mean?”

  Rowan assumed it had something to do with the spark of Lightning hiding somewhere within him, yet traits rarely had only one use. They had passive effects along with their main boon, just like his first one gave Rowan a tremendous pace of advancement because of the inherent durability it granted his Soul.

  What do I know? he asked himself.

  Firstly, it gave me access to a new affinity, even if I can’t use it yet. I just have to figure out how it did that.

  To gain a tier-two affinity, a mage needed to have a deep understanding of their two tier-ones. Then, with that knowledge at the forefront of their mind, they needed to weave them into a cohesive whole.

  Rowan hadn’t done that. In fact, he wasn’t anywhere close to attempting it.

  While he had an excellent idea of how his Fire magic functioned, Wind was still new to him. Like an extra limb he hadn’t quite yet mastered. Sure, Rowan was capable of casting a few spells with it, but that was nowhere near close to the level of proficiency one needed to attempt advancing.

  Well, there’s an easy way to test this out.

  Standing up, Rowan dusted off his coat and walked over to the entrance of the cavern. The Mist Wraiths parted around him, letting him leave undisturbed.

  I’m pretty sure they’re guarding me, he thought. Which if it wasn’t for everything else going on would definitely be higher on my list of weird shit that happened in the last day.

  Stepping outside, Rowan aimed his hand towards a nearby boulder and pulled mana from his Core.

  Fire surged through his channels, harder and faster than ever before.

  Rowan’s eyes widened in alarm. He scrambled to imbue his Intent, barely managing it before his working destabilized.

  Piercing Flame.

  The spell flared to life in the palm of his hand, burning with a fierce intensity that reminded him more of a [Fireball] than a normal [Firebolt].

  Not wasting any time, Rowan let the spell fly.

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