Ahryn's heartbeat was the loudest thing in the room. The paladin captain stood in front of Emenie. His sword was raised.

And he couldn't do a thing. The very air held him in place. Like it had turned to stone. Like the weight of an entire continent pressed down on his shoulders.

Focus: 4/126

Health: 3/112

He could do nothing.

Once again, he could do nothing.

He wasn't seven anymore, but he might as well be.

What was the point in having levels and power and skills when he was still just as weak as he'd been without them?

He'd always been sickly. When he was a child, before he turned nine, they said he'd grow out of it. That some children have a slower start. That he shouldn't compare himself to Alyx or Kohen.

When he was a child, any amount of running would leave him out of breath. Walking from the base of the palatial hill to the palace was enough to leave his muscles shaking.

Work harder, his father had said.

Work diligently, his mother had encouraged.

One day, you'll have the Stamina for even these simple things.

One day. That was what they said.

One day didn't come fast enough.

He was seven when it happened.

It was the end of the last Rising Dragon Festival. Twelve years ago.

It was night. He was supposed to have been in bed. But he'd snuck out. To see the stars. To catch a glimpse of the dragonling. There was a spot on the palace wall that overlooked the nursery where the dragonling lived, where he could get a good view of both. Getting there was tricky, but not impossible. Time consuming mostly.

It was late, and he was panting heavily by the time he got there.

And people were shouting.

Lady Aretios stood in the nursery courtyard, her dragon, Kelstor, at her side. Strangers in armor and green and copper tabards stood opposite her, the dragonling, Melida, shackled at their side. The dragonling pulled at her bindings, but she was just a child, too. What could she do against fully grown adults?

He froze there on the wall, staring down. Froze like he was frozen now. Helpless, as he was helpless now.

Lady Aretios and Sir Kelstor fought the invaders. But even a dragon knight and dragon could be beaten by superior numbers. Especially when there was a hostage.

Lady Aretios took countless wounds. Sir Kelstor bled from brow to tail tip. Yet their enemies were tireless.

Ahryn could only watch. He had to do more. But he couldn't move.

The invaders dragged the dragonling from the yard. They were going to get away. They were going to take her.

What could he do? He was just a child. But so was Melida, and she was struggling with all she had, her claws digging into the dirt as she was dragged away, her wings flapping futilely to push against even the air, her jaws snapping at anyone she might bite.

Lady Aretios cut down yet another of the invaders. She took a step toward the dragonling. Under the moonlight, her aura surged.

A blade pierced her chest. An invader had snuck up behind her. Her blood splattered through the night air.

Kelstor roared.

Ahryn screamed.

Lady Aretios staggered forward, her aura still growing around her body. She swung her sword with all her remaining power, the entirety of her aura flying from her body across the yard. It missed the man dragging the dragonling away. Maybe it had never intended to hit him.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

The aura blade struck the dragonling squarely in the chest.

She was dead in an instant.

Lady Aretios fell to the ground a moment later.

Ahryn stumbled back, unable to believe what he'd seen. Shocked into movement, he ran. He ran like he should have run from the start. He must have seen wrong. Someone must be able to save Melida and Lady Aretios.

Someone.

Anyone.

He ran until he couldn't breathe. He screamed the whole way. He didn't remember who found him. He didn't remember the rest of that night. All he remembered was Lady Aretios under the moonlight, a sword stabbed through her back, the blood froze in time, arching away from her body.

All he remembered was his useless, useless self.

And here he was. Again.

Held in place because he was too weak.

It was Emenie there instead of Melida.

One day, they said, he'd be strong. He'd have the Stamina to run.

If only he had the Stamina to run to her.

He still didn't. He'd never outgrown his weakness like they said he would.

He'd looked forward to his ninth birthday. It was supposed to change everything.

He remembered the faces of the adults when he showed them his inborn trait.

The disappointment.

For him.

In him.

Ethereal Constitution (Inborn)

[Your body is fueled by something more fundamental and far less tangible. Draw from this well with care, and none shall stand in your way. May you burn bright, if only for a moment.

You possess no Stamina.

Any bonuses to Stamina are applied to Focus and Health instead.]

They reassured nine-year-old him it would be fine. This was a boon for a mage. Kohen was already well on his way to being an accomplished swordsman. The family didn't need two swordsmen. He would complement Kohen better as a mage.

No one talked about how his Health dropped just from walking across the city to the Academy.

No one talked about how even running short distances started cutting into his Health.

And it didn't help now.

His heartbeat hammered in his head.

Emenie would die.

Maybe Miss Cass had another trick. Maybe Alyx would finish binding with Kelstor, and she'd do what her mother couldn't. Maybe Kohen would push through the overwhelming power of a goddess to save Emenie in time.

He wished one of them would.

He wished he could do more.

He wished with all his heart that he could be more.

[Ethereal Constitution: Draw power from within?]

He stared at the window before him. It was tinged with the silver color he associated with his Concept of Starlight. He didn't know what that meant, but did he really have a choice?

[Ethereal Constitution: Drawing power from within. May you burn bright, if only for a moment.]

Power surged from his chest, like something had torn down a dam and all the stored water behind it poured out at once.

It filled him.

It overfilled him, pouring off into the air in a silver light. But there was no stopping it. Not until Emenie was safe.

Focus: 126/126

Health: 35/112

He stood, the weight pressing him down little more than an inconvenience. He was more than it now; if only now.

The captain's sword was raised. He swung down on Emenie. With his Strength, with her lack of stats, that one strike would be enough to kill her.

Ahryn refused to let that happen.

He held a hand out. He didn't know a proper shield spell. All he had was Lightscreen Barrier, with its deceleration properties. But couldn't he slow the paladin's sword until it came to a stop?

Normally, no. The spell was expensive enough slowing objects by 10%. But right now, what was Focus when he had something more fundamental fueling his every movement?

A white field appeared above Emenie. The paladin's sword hit it and froze in place. The captain could not pull it out any more than he could push it down.

Good. That bought a moment. What next?

How did he save Emenie?

The captain had to die. But Ahryn couldn't do it. He had yet to memorize offensive spells cast with only hand gestures. The best he could do was put Miss Cass and the others in a position to rescue Emenie for him.

Which meant they needed to move.

How exactly were they being held in place? The goddess's presence? Or was it a skill?

He didn't think he could banish the goddess. Not from her temple. But if it was a skill, maybe he could counter it.

He reached for a skill of his own.

Storm's Lull (lvl 20)

[This world is a raging storm and you but a fragile boat rocking on its winds. Only by carving out places of calm can you find safe harbor to rest.

Enforce a zone of calm in an ongoing conflict by disallowing skills.]

He threw his Focus behind the skill, charging it with far more than it asked for. Focus and that ephemeral something surging through him.

The white light of the skill spread through the room, blanketing everything and everyone.

It hit the manifestation of the goddess, still hovering over the central altar.

"Mortal, you think you can silence me? In my temple?" she growled. She pushed back against his skill.

It wasn't his place to challenge the gods.

He was no one.

Nothing.

Insignificant and useless.

But Starlight burned in him. Cold and bright and insistent.

Sweat beaded on his forehead. His heart pounded. His lungs burned.

The goddess—or the fraction of her manifestation, the tauran paladin had called forth—pushed back against the skill. Her Will was solid, like a wall of stone and reinforced with the weight of something greater than any stat.

But Ahryn was empowered by more than his stats. And he was here with his entire being, not just a fraction of it.

His skill surged outward.

Ahryn shouted back wordlessly. He had only one wish. He might be as insignificant as any singular star in the night sky, but tonight he'd burn that star like it was another sun. He would protect Emenie and Velkora, even if he burned out in the attempt.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.