Chapter 3: Failure’s Guardian
After Frey, a few other students had been called forward to participate in the awakening.
While this happened, Finn watched in excitement, unable to sit back in his chair ever since he had witnessed the first Awakening.
One after another, candidates were called—from the most confident, to the anxious, to the charismatic, to the weak. And all soaked in the rich Pure Vine Stream.
The results of their awakenings were tremendous.
One after the other, their Guardians would appear right beside them, brimming with strange energies that coated their beings and perfectly matching the abilities of their users.
From eagles and salamanders, to tigers and even stranger beings Finn had never seen in his life.
But what mattered the most to Finn wasn’t that.
It was the sheer number of people who soaked in the Pure Vine Stream and actually got a Guardian.
So far, only one person has failed out of the ten candidates called.
Finn clenched his fist, a wave of hope crashing over him. ’Yes, it’s a nine-out-of-ten probability,’ he thought.
Unless his luck was extremely bad or just outright cursed, there was no way he was going to walk through the Pure Vine Stream and not awaken a Guardian.
Well, that answer soon presented itself as It was finally his turn.
"Next."
"Finn Vaywill," the instructor announced.
"..." The entire room fell dead silent, as though the name of a Dark Lord had just been pronounced.
Eyes turned and heads crowed at the mention of the name.
Murmurs rose all across the room.
Questions asked about who and where Finn Vaywill was.
It was hard for people to recognize him, since he did well to stay below their radar and did not simply go about announcing he was Finn Vaywill.
He had deep black hair, a scrawny stature, and on him clothing that wasn’t too fancy. The only recognizable thing about him that stood out were his deep red eyes.
An eye color not common to anyone in the entire kingdom; aside from himself and his father.
"Here we go," Finn swallowed hard, stepping out from where he sat and walking down toward the Instructor.
Naturally, his movements attracted the attention of the entire room.
And surprisingly the crowd were silent.
Watching him with emptiness, disgust, and whatever feeling could be named worse than mockery—
Though mockery was what oozed from their lips the most as he passed by.
And Finn listened.
"Isn’t that the son of the Traitor?" one said.
"Yes, I heard he awakened a sword talent."
"What sort of stupid magic is that?" another mocked.
A few laughed silently.
"Who is he trying to impress?" This one came from a girl, louder than the whispers she was clearly trying to use Finn to gain attention as he passed by.
’Impress?’ Finn ignored; he was already used to this treatment. After all, that treatment would soon come to an end, when he would soak in the Pure Vine Stream, and acquire a guardian.
Finn met the instructor’s glare. She had been watching him with a sort of worry, rather than the irritation felt by the rest of the room. It was an expression neither Finn nor anyone else could easily detect, as she hid it well.
She stepped aside and pointed at the door Frey and the other candidates had gone through earlier.
"Go in. The rest of the awakening process will be explained to you there."
Finn lingered for a brief moment, nodded, and walked off to the door, opening it with a simple twist of the knob then entering a dimly lit passageway.
Studying the walls, ground, and roof... no doubt, this was an ancient cave tunnel.
The passageway to the Pure Vine Streams.
And the only chance for his bleak future to find any light.
He took a few steps along the uneven pavement of the tunnel, traversing only a little distance until he saw two old men.
The men stood hunched, with white goatees and faces so wrinkled that their eyes could barely be seen under the sags of their skin.
The two old men looked almost identical.
’They are probably of the same mother,’ Finn imagined.
One of the old men let out a low, relieved sigh. "You are the next candidate," he said slowly, as though counting his words as they left his lips.
Finn nodded. "I am."
The old man grunted low, his voice sounding like a windpipe that was clogged to its absolute limits. "Everyone can have magic, but not everyone can reach the pinnacle those of the First Age reached. Their knowledge is lost to time. It is through Guardians that we gain a fraction of the lost knowledge of magic.
The luck of whether your Guardian can make you a great Mage or not simply relies on the fraction of knowledge the Guardian can teach to you."
"That is the secret behind the Gravemont family’s power," the second old man said, lingering for a moment before speaking once again. "Knowledge is power... or should I say, knowledge is the string that forges power."
Finn’s face brightened in enlightenment. The information he was hearing now made his chest burn with questions to ask about Guardians, and more pressing to ask about his magic.
But this was not the time to ask.
The two elders shifted from the path, without a word.
Leaving Finn a path to the Pure Vine Stream.
Finn hesitated, bowing slowly and then continuing past them. ’I’ll get the answers I need soon enough.’
After a short trek, Finn finally stood before the translucent, shimmering stream of the Pure Vine Streams.
It seemed even more stunning in beauty than he imagined it to be.
Green vines spread atop the surface of the stream like creatures that were alive yet unmoving, pink flowers slowly orbiting the center of the stream, their movements making a low, soothing sound Finn found quite hard to grasp.
For some reason, being before the stream felt as though he was standing before a swirling storm of power...
And it called to him.
Finn continued forward shortly after absorbing the breathtaking sight into the corners of his mind. Approaching the translucent water, by walking down its stairs and submerging himself into its embrace until the water was midway up his neck.
He wanted to walk towards the middle of the stream which was only a few meters away to see why the strange pink flowers orbited it, but with his height and scrawny figure going any further might as well be considered commuting suicide by drowning.
Who knew how many had made the mistake of succumbing to that greed?
And what happened to their bodies after the sickening deed was done?
Finn did not want to know, but yet was curious.
Still, he stayed put in the stream’s translucent water and concentrated all he could concentrate at this moment in hopes to Awakening his guardian...
His mana, his thoughts—all to try and trigger the awakening...
However...
He felt nothing.
"..."
Finn swallowed hard, his eyes staring at the surface of the water as it rippled against him.
"Come on, work," he thought aloud.
Perhaps this was just a delay, like what had happened with Frey? Maybe it was just taking longer?
Or maybe he didn’t have an ounce of talent, and was the unlucky one of the ten—the failure.
Finn swallowed hard, ’Am I really going to fail here? Traitor’s son! Trash! Will I be known as that forever?’
Finn’s heart dipped at the thought.
It seemed that no matter what he did to change his life for the better, it all ended in failure.
His expression crumpled into a frown. Clearly giving up he turned around to leave, accepting his fate as it was, then—
*Swoosh!*
Something strange had happened.
The air around him surged, a loud crackle echoing through the Pure vine stream causing its surface to rupture.
At the sound and the innate pressure, Finn’s heart skipped a beat. His eyes growing wide and his face brightening as he stared at the brilliant red glow before him in absolute wonder.
Oh hell, he knew what that was!
Finn almost leapt out of the water in excitement at the successfully Awakening.
Watching the red lights slowly surge taking form.
"I did it! What’s it going to be, a tiger? no, a dragon! Or maybe an Ogre."
He exclaimed in excitement watching as the figure of his supposed Guardian fully manifested.
And it was...
Somewhat, questionable.
Finn lifted an eyebrow, his face turning pale at what form the lights took as its full manifestation.
’As if fate would treat me any better for soaking in ancient waters.’ he grumbled within staring at the ancient Sword before him, floating above his head in utter mockery.
He had failed.
