The festival in Hawthorn was wrapping up and most kids my age looked over the moon. I was happy too, but something in my heart still felt… disappointed. I knew I could have ended up a Warrior or a Mage, but actually not getting Warrior like both my parents stung more than I had expected.
Our families packed the last of our things into the carts, but before we started the walk back toward Bramble we grabbed a few snacks and meat skewers for the road. I had set aside a bag of kettlecorn for John and I, so at least we were covered in the snack department.
The morning cold finally lifted, the sun warming the cobblestone streets. Many families were planning to stay another night in Hawthorn, and plenty of stalls were still open, but life back home didn’t stop just because a festival ended. There was always work to get back to. As we walked through the city, the smell of roasted nuts wafted from the vendor lines, and faint music drifted through the alleyways as we made our way toward the gate.
Mom walked beside me with a proud smile that hadn’t faded since the ceremony. Dad was ahead with John’s parents, talking quietly about the walk home. John kept glancing at his hands, then at me, then at his Interface again. He looked like he might explode if he didn’t talk soon.
“Did you hear what I got?” he burst out, wearing a grin so wide it looked painful. “I got Warrior and I got a pretty awesome ability too. Power Swing. I can’t wait to try it out. I want to figure out every detail of how it works.”
He paused, then nudged me with his elbow. “Enough about me. What’d you get?”
“Mage,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “And my ability is Barrier.”
I didn’t elaborate, and silence settled between us as we walked.
After a moment, he leaned closer. “So… how does it feel? Being a Mage?”
“It feels fine,” I said too quickly. “Sorry. It’s just… different than I thought it would be.”
He picked up on the hesitation right away. “Aren’t you happy? I thought you were excited either way.”
I kicked at a wagon track in the dirt. “I am happy. I’m just a little disappointed. Every time I pictured my Integration, I imagined myself swinging a sword, doing something big. Something like Dad. But I’m a mage and I got… Barrier.”
“Hey, that’s still pretty cool,” John said, grabbing my shoulder. “I mean, maybe not as cool as smashing things—” he stopped when my expression fell. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know.” I forced a smile. “And honestly, you got the perfect fit. A warrior with Power Swing? That’s you. I just… I know my Integration wasn’t a mistake. I’ll figure out how to be useful. It’s just different than what I pictured.”
Dad and Steven slowed to walk beside us. Mom and Kat joined too. They must have heard the tail end of our conversation.
Steven smiled. “Why don’t you boys test your abilities while we walk? Best to get used to them early.”
Dad nodded. “And practice identifying things with the Interface. Focus on something you want to know about. If the Interface recognizes it, information will pop up. Try moving the Interface around too: left, right, lower in your vision, more transparent, opaque. You’ll be doing that constantly at the Academy.”
“Try identifying each other,” Mom suggested.
John and I turned to look at each other, concentrating.
“Level 1 Warrior,” appeared over John’s head.
“You show up as Level 1 Warrior,” I said. “What about me?”
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“Level 1 Mage,” he grinned. “Neat. Gonna take a little getting used to.”
Then, with full enthusiasm returning, he bounced on his heels. “Let’s try abilities now! I’ve been dying to use Power Swing all day. And I want to see what your Barrier looks like.”
Mom cleared her throat sharply, and John froze. “Careful,” she warned. “Don’t hit him directly. You can test it, but how about you use a stick and please, only after Jude activates his Barrier.”
John sprinted to the roadside and grabbed a huge branch, swinging it like a sword. “Perfect.”
I took a breath and brought my Interface to the center of my vision. I focused on Barrier, willing it to appear. Knowledge surged into me about how to activate it and I pictured it forming an arm’s length in front of me.
A pale shimmer unfolded, thin and curved like a sheet of glass. Cold radiated from it but didn’t chill my skin. My Mana dropped by ten percent.
John stepped back. “Ready?”
“Yeah. Let’s try it.”
He grinned and yelled, “Power Swing!”
His arm blurred. The stick slammed into the Barrier, and for a heartbeat the shield held.
Then it shattered like brittle ice.
I looked at John and he was staring at the splintered stick in his hand. “That was awesome! You actually blocked it!”
“I barely blocked it,” I said, checking my Interface. “And that was just a stick. It used ten percent to create the Barrier and another ten percent to block.”
“Power Swing took twenty-five percent for me,” John said. He shook out his hand. “That kinda hurt, but worth it. It felt pretty powerful.”
Our parents walked ahead, giving us space while keeping an eye on us.
“Try another Barrier,” Dad said.
So I summoned another and… another ten percent of my Mana was gone. Another hit, another shatter and another ten percent gone again. We repeated this until John emptied his Mana completely. I still had enough Mana for one more Barrier, but we paused while he waited for his Mana to refill.
It took him almost three full minutes. Mine refilled in about two.
“That is annoying,” John muttered. “Why do you get Mana back faster?”
“The Wisdom attribute,” I said. “Mages start with more of it.”
“That is so unfair,” he grumbled, then brightened immediately. “But I get more Strength, which helps me hit harder, so I guess it evens out.”
He found another stick in the bushes and used his Power Swing again. The Barrier held, then shattered like a pane of glass.
I watched the fading fragments of the Mana from the ability thoughtfully. It wasn’t flashy. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t going to scare monsters, but it did stop a powerful attack. Well, at least for a moment.
Mom stepped beside me, “If you place a Barrier at the right moment and in the right place, it can change the course of a battle,” she said softly. “Do not underestimate what looks simple or basic.”
I nodded, but my mind swam with possibilities of what could have been. I wanted fireballs. Or lightning. Something that does damage. Something that looks cool. What am I supposed to do with Barrier? Make monsters run into walls until they knock themselves out?
John must have seen the look on my face because he nudged me. “Hey. You blocked my ability every time. That’s already impressive. And you can cast more times than I can swing.”
“That just means you can break more of my barriers,” I shot back, half smiling. “You can still fight without Mana. Then what do I do? Stand there?”
“It doesn’t change the fact that it is useful,” he said. “Probably, more useful than you think.”
We kept practicing. Each time I summoned Barrier, I learned something new: timing, placement, angles. And when I tried placing it low to the ground, I figured out it could be used to trip someone. I proved it by calling John over, taunting him into chasing me, and watching him run shin-first into the invisible wall before face-planting in the dirt.
I burst out laughing. After which, tackled me immediately and pinned my arm until I tapped out. He was strong. He really was going to be a great Warrior.
Now I just needed to figure out how to become a great Mage.
By the time Bramble’s familiar fields came into view, the sun was sinking low, the Grand Seal shimmering across the sky in faint colors. John walked with one of the last surviving sticks from our tests over his shoulder like a storybook hero. I walked beside him feeling… not very hero-like at all.
But, for the first time since the ceremony, I didn’t feel entirely disappointed.
Maybe I wasn’t a Warrior and maybe Barrier wasn’t flashy. But I had been given a gift. A chance to grow.
I’ll find a way to become strong, I promised silently.
I’ll find a way to protect humanity even if I can’t see the whole path yet.
