The Spark

V

I groaned as I pulled myself into a sitting position. My body felt like it had been hit by a truck—heavy, sore, and sluggish—but strangely, I was fine. No broken bones, no gashes or bruises. Just pain. A lot of pain.

The fall was a blur. I tried to recall the impact, but my memory cut off the moment I hit the ground. Maybe that was a good thing. If I had really died, I wouldn't be sitting here now, right?

I glanced down at my hands, flexing my fingers experimentally. I searched for some kind of sign that my aura had awakened. A glow, a surge of power, something. But there was nothing. No changes, no immediate proof that I was any different than before.

"Come on…" I muttered under my breath as I pushed myself to my feet. My head throbbed, the dizziness from earlier replaced by a dull ache. My body protested every movement, but I was alive, and that was the important part.

I checked my watch. Five minutes. That's how long it had taken from the moment I jumped to the moment I regained consciousness. Either the concoction had worked, or I'd somehow survived a fall that should've killed me through sheer dumb luck.

I staggered toward the edge of the cliff, my legs unsteady beneath me. Peering down at the jagged rocks below, I tried to make sense of what had just happened. The drop was brutal—no way anyone could survive that unscathed. Yet here I was.

"Okay… so now what?"

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to center myself. The testimonials had all said the same thing: awakening aura wasn't just a physical transformation. It was deeper, more intrinsic. I focused inward, searching for anything that felt different.

At first, there was nothing. Just the steady thrum of my pulse and the lingering adrenaline coursing through my veins. I almost gave up, but then I felt it—a flicker, faint and fleeting, deep in my chest.

It was like a match being struck in the dark.

I concentrated on the sensation, focusing all my attention on that tiny spark. Slowly, it grew. The flicker became a flame, spreading warmth through my chest and down into my limbs. The aches and pains that had wracked my body began to fade, replaced by a strange lightness, as if I was no longer weighed down by the same physical limits.

"Holy shit…" I whispered.

This was it. The awakening. My aura.

But the elation was short-lived. As the warmth spread, I realized this wasn't just any aura. This was something… different. Something more volatile. The energy surged through me, wild and erratic, pulsing like a live wire sparking dangerously inside my chest.

My heart raced as I struggled to keep it in check. The raw power felt untamed, unstable, like it could spiral out of control at any moment. I stumbled backward, gasping for breath, my hands clutching at my chest.

"Okay… calm down, Reynard. You've got this," I muttered, more to convince myself than anything else.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady the erratic energy coursing through me. The heat simmered beneath my skin, not painful but definitely uncomfortable, like a furnace threatening to ignite.

Running a hand over my sternum, I half-expected to feel something physically different—a glow, a pulse, anything—but everything seemed normal on the surface.

"Hmmm…" I muttered. "This must be a side effect of awakening aura too quickly."

The concoction had worked, but maybe too well. The energy inside me felt raw and untamed, a double-edged sword that could just as easily destroy me as save me.

I needed to figure out how to control it. Otherwise, I wasn't just a man with awakened aura—I was a walking time bomb.

Without a proper guide or a controlled awakening, the results were bound to be unpredictable. I'd known that going in, though, and I was fine with it. What mattered now was figuring out my affinity—what type of aura I felt most comfortable with.

Like how matter had three states, Aura had Seven States.

Aura wasn't just some generic force; it had seven distinct "states" or methods of use. Fighter, Seeker, Dealer, Trickster, Caster, Maker, and Reader. Each state represented a different way to interact with the world and brought unique abilities. Fighters enhanced physical power and durability, while Casters manipulated energy for ranged attacks. Makers could craft objects imbued with aura, and Readers used it to sense emotions or intentions. The rest were just as specialized, each tailored to a specific style of combat or survival.

The trick was figuring out which state I'd fallen into.

"I feel healthier already…" I muttered, rolling my shoulders to shake off the lingering discomfort. "Still hot in the chest, though."

As I stretched, I noticed something odd—my body moved with a strange ease. My muscles felt looser, more responsive, like the usual resistance I faced with every movement had been turned down.

Interesting.

If I had to guess, I might've awakened as a Fighter. Fighter auras typically enhanced physical strength and resilience, making their users walking tanks in combat. But that didn't explain the heat in my chest or the volatile energy surging through me. There was more to this than simple physical enhancements.

I needed to test it.

Turning toward a nearby boulder, I clenched my fist and focused on the flicker of energy deep in my chest. It was like a small flame, flickering and unsteady. I imagined pushing that flame downward, channeling it into my arm, letting it build like pressure in a valve.

With a sharp exhale, I threw a punch.

The boulder cracked.

A spiderweb of fine lines spread from the point of impact, and I stumbled back, wide-eyed.

"Okay… not bad," I said, flexing my fingers. My knuckles stung slightly, but it was a good kind of pain—a reminder that this wasn't a dream.

Still, something felt off. The energy inside me wasn't stable. It pulsed erratically, like a live wire sparking at random intervals. Every time I tried to focus on it, it threatened to break loose, slipping through my control like water through a sieve.

This wasn't just a Fighter's aura.

I closed my eyes, trying to concentrate again, searching for more clues. That heat in my chest wasn't going away. It was tied to the energy somehow, but what did it mean? Fighters weren't supposed to feel this kind of volatility. Their aura was straightforward, solid. This felt raw, unrefined, and wild.

I thought about the other states. Tricksters were known for their unpredictability, their ability to create illusions or manipulate perception. Could I have awakened as a Trickster? But no, this didn't feel like subtle manipulation. This was power—raw and uncontained.

Another possibility nagged at me: Caster. Casters wielded their aura as a ranged weapon, projecting energy outward in blasts or beams. That heat could be a sign of a buildup, but it didn't explain the physical enhancements.

"Damn it…" I muttered, running a hand through my hair. I was overthinking this. The truth was, I didn't know enough about aura awakening to make any definitive conclusions.

For now, I had to focus on control. Whatever this was, it wasn't stable, and that made it dangerous—not just to me but to Leon as well. If I couldn't rein it in, I'd be a liability instead of a protector.

I clenched my fists, feeling the flicker of energy flare up again. It was like trying to tame a storm inside me, chaotic and unrelenting.

"Okay, Reynard," I muttered. "One step at a time. You've got this."

I needed to figure out how to channel my aura properly. Without control, I was more hazard than hero.

"Alright... what's next?" I muttered to myself.

Experimentation was the only way forward. I'd have to test the Seven States one by one to figure out where my newfound power aligned. But before I could do that, I needed to cool down—literally. The heat in my chest was still building, and if I wasn't careful, it might burn me out before I even got the chance to learn anything.

The river nearby offered the perfect reprieve. I waded into the cool stream, letting the water wash over me. The heat subsided slightly, though the faint thrum of energy in my chest remained, like embers waiting to reignite.

As I sat on the smooth rocks by the riverbank, I mulled over what kind of ability I might've awakened. Considering the fall I'd survived without a scratch and the punch I'd delivered earlier, it was clear something extraordinary had happened. But it didn't feel like a typical Fighter's aura. The power I'd felt wasn't proportional—it was too sharp, too volatile.

"I don't know much about aura as it is," I said aloud, "but I've got a feeling I'm starting with a lot more than the average beginner."

The thought was both thrilling and unsettling. If I had more aura than most starters, that could mean my awakening was something unique—or dangerous. Either way, I needed to understand it before it consumed me.

I reviewed my knowledge of the Seven States as the water cooled my chest.

Fighter—The most straightforward state. Fighters used aura to enhance their physical capabilities: strength, speed, durability. Living battering rams, capable of shattering stone and taking hits that would kill ordinary people. The punch I'd thrown earlier might suggest this, but something about it didn't fit. It was too precise, too focused to be raw brute strength.

Seeker—Seekers enhanced their senses, becoming hyper-aware of their surroundings. They could track enemies, detect aura, and even foresee danger. But I hadn't felt anything like heightened senses or clarity. No sudden awareness of the world around me. Just the heat.

Dealer—Dealers were aura manipulators, capable of transferring or controlling aura in others. They worked well in groups, supporting allies or draining enemies. Their abilities often came with specific conditions for activation. But I hadn't felt any connection to the aura of others, no strange feedback. I was still a solo act, through and through.

Trickster—The wildcard. Tricksters used aura for illusions, misdirection, and bending reality. Their abilities were unpredictable, often manifesting in unconventional ways. I couldn't completely rule this one out. The raw power I felt might be masking something more subtle, but it didn't feel like the sneaky, deceptive energy Tricksters were known for.

Caster—The mystical state. Casters wielded aura as elemental or magical power—fire, ice, lightning. The heat in my chest could suggest something fire-related, simmering beneath the surface. I hadn't seen flames yet, but the idea wasn't far-fetched.

Maker—Makers crafted and enhanced objects using aura, turning ordinary tools into extraordinary ones. Some could even forge constructs of pure energy. The punch I'd delivered to the boulder might've been a form of aura shaping, though it felt too raw to be intentional. Still, it was worth considering.

Reader—The rarest of the states. Readers delved into minds and emotions, using aura to uncover secrets and predict actions. But I hadn't felt any insight into the thoughts or feelings of others. No sudden connection to the essence of people. Definitely not me.

The water flowed around me as I turned these possibilities over in my mind. None of them seemed to fit perfectly. Whatever I'd awakened, it felt... different. The heat, the volatility—it wasn't something I'd read about in any of the books or testimonials.

"Guess I'll just have to figure it out the hard way," I muttered, standing up and shaking the water from my hands.

I leaned back against the rocks, letting the cool water flow over my skin, soothing the heat simmering in my chest. The river was a welcome reprieve, a momentary escape from the storm of thoughts swirling in my mind.

"Alright," I muttered, staring up at the canopy of trees above. "So what am I?"

The question lingered in the air, unanswered. I felt stronger, sure—different—but the heat in my chest was still a mystery. It was like carrying a live coal under my ribcage, a constant reminder that something had changed. But what exactly?

The raw energy pulsing through me wasn't normal. It was too wild, too volatile. This wasn't the smooth awakening described in the books or testimonials I'd read. It felt like I'd tapped into something deeper, more primal. Something that wasn't entirely under my control.

For now, though, I'd have to take it one step at a time. Experimentation could wait. I needed to figure out what this power meant—what I meant.

I closed my eyes, letting my head rest against the rocks, the sound of the stream lulling me into a moment of calm. But as the water cooled my body, my mind drifted to a darker place.

And then it hit me.

The realization struck like a bolt of lightning, sending a jolt of tension through my body. My eyes snapped open as the full weight of what I'd done settled over me.

It was like a crack in my mind.

"I… I just tried to kill myself," I whispered, the words barely audible over the rushing water.

The thought hung in the air, cold and unrelenting. My chest tightened, not from the heat of the aura, but from the crushing weight of realization. What if the concoction hadn't worked? What if I'd failed?

I'd jumped off that cliff without a second thought, gambling everything on a half-baked plan. And for what? To awaken some power I didn't even understand? To prove to myself that I could survive?

The tension clawed its way up my spine, gripping my chest like a vice. For the first time in a long while, I felt like I couldn't breathe.

Deep breaths. Just breathe.

I pressed my palms against my temples, trying to steady myself, but the panic wouldn't subside. Memories flooded back—every moment of desperation that had led me to this point. The loneliness. The isolation. The overwhelming sense of being trapped with no way out.

Before I knew it, hot tears streamed down my face, mixing with the cool water from the river.

"I'm so stupid…" I choked out, my voice cracking. "What the hell have I been thinking?"

The sobs came unbidden, wracking my body as I buried my face in my hands. I'd been so focused on escaping my circumstances, on finding some kind of solution, that I hadn't stopped to think about what I was doing to myself.

I missed civilization. I missed writing novels, losing myself in the worlds I used to create. I missed… her. My wife. The ache in my chest deepened as I thought of her face, the way she used to smile, the sound of her laugh. How long had it been since I'd seen her? Since I'd felt any semblance of normalcy?

I was cornered. Truly, utterly cornered.

The weight of it all threatened to crush me, but after what felt like an eternity, the sobs began to subside. My breathing slowed, the tightness in my chest easing just enough for me to think clearly again.

I wiped my face with trembling hands, the tears and river water blending into one.

"Get it together, Reynard," I muttered to myself. "Crying isn't going to fix anything."

But even as I said it, I knew I couldn't keep pushing myself like this. Not today. Experimentation could wait. I needed to find some semblance of stability before I tore myself apart.

With that resolve, I stood up and made my way back to the cave. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the forest floor. The sight was oddly comforting, a reminder that even the longest day had to end eventually.

When I reached the cave, Leon was waiting for me, tail wagging as he trotted over to greet me. The sight of him brought a faint smile to my face, a small spark of warmth in the midst of the chaos.

"Hey, buddy," I said, crouching down to scratch behind his ears. His fur was soft and warm, a welcome contrast to the chill of the river.

For the rest of the evening, I let myself forget about aura, about experimentation, about the questions that had been gnawing at my mind. Instead, I focused on Leon, tossing a makeshift ball for him to chase and laughing as he barked excitedly.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to just be. No plans. No pressure. Just the simple joy of being alive.

~005