Arcane Crest

The Thief

  A/N: Hey flame here so I've decided to rewrite the story.... Without finishing the first graph.... And I skip the first two chapters.... Hmmm oh well. This chapter was already edited by department of sarcasm and fitted in with the plot so all I did was change a few minor things and fixed other things. Nothing much (updated 9/29/2017)  

In a cabin in the woods, Kiyoshi was spread out on an old, creaking wicker bed, dealing with the turmoil in his mind. His gaze was transfixed on his right hand reaching toward the ceiling and more specifically to the black hole attached to it. Within the circle of his crest, a laughing face glowed up at him in amethyst. He groaned with frustration. It had been four years since he had left his home, and yet his crest was still in its first form - level one. According to the book he had set on the desk, one of his few, bare furnishings, he would need a pearl of evolution, a rare and precious large white pearl created by the very life force of this world - mana. Finding the pearl was not the problem; there was a noble family of arcane users in the nearby town of Salamon's Reach.

Rather, the problem was that he would have to sneak into the mansion to get the pearl. The thought curled in his mind unpleasantly, stemming the beginnings of a migraine. Slowly Kiyoshi climbed from his protesting bed. Yet still, a smile formed on his face as his bare feet touched the cold stone floor, and memories emerged of his old home. The smile of his mother, his father's warm hands, the sunlight filtering through the dust in the air, making the particles dance far better than anyone in the village could dream of.

After he had enough of the ambrosia-filled nostalgia, he walked to the large, four-pane window across from his bed, and the small brown desk underneath it. A small white candle stood on the desk, filling the cabin with its dim orange light. Next to it was a small pouch filled with coins, the arcane research book, and a hand-sized brown leather journal, for taking notes on his research, or simply for recording his day. The cabin creaked at the slight movement from his sitting down, reminding him just how much work it needed, eventually. But this was not the time. He opened his journal, finding a small yellow pencil carefully stuck between a page filled with small and neat handwriting and a blank page which seemed to be begging for characters. He picked up the pencil, inspecting it. It was no longer than his forefinger.

"Looks like I'm going to have to change you too, huh?" He whispered with a tired expression.

He began to write, chronicling his future plans, in the vague hope that some justification could be found in the writing. Sadly for Kiyoshi, anyway that he looked at it, he would still be in the wrong. Wanting to distract himself, his eyes landed on his crest once again.

Now a face smiled back at him. It quickly changed itself to a dagger shimmered up through the darkness of the circle, a purple blade curving toward his thumb. Around him, the shadows of the cabin grew bold, crawling toward his crest as though it called to them. A smile crept across his face, now, as the room was swarmed in darkness. The flame of the candle still burned strong, but the light seemed reluctant, afraid to approach, only there to allow Kiyoshi to guide these shadows. He closed his right hand, and the shadows jumped to attention. With a simple wave of his hand, the shadows took on the silhouettes of humans. He snapped, and they danced. They danced as partners in a ball, alone in haunting solos, in large groups of synchronized movement. This was easy for Kiyoshi, and while even after four years he was still amazed of this simple trick he could do, he desired more. He wanted to unlock the secrets of his crest and the only way to do so was to use that pearl.

He lost himself in the play of dancing shadows until he could feel the force of his mana deplete. Only then did he stop. No matter the fun, the whiplash of complete mana depletion was never pleasant. With a final wave of his first two fingers, his crest ceased to glow but for a few lines that made a bird-like figure. The shadows reverted back to their original state, and the glow of the candle regained its lost confidence. Feeling calmer, he prepared to get back to his journal, when a stray beam of light hit his right eye bringing his attention outside the cabin window. The day's last few rays of sunlight had pierced through the thick foliage of the trees, casting a temporary golden hue over the clearing. The grass that surrounded the cabin seemingly rose in acknowledgment to the sunlight, then bent down, well knowing that night would soon fall. As Kiyoshi looked at this ritual between the earth and the light, all of his worries and doubt disappeared, leaving him with a clear answer.