5 Years
The morning sun stretched lazily across the orphanage grounds, illuminating the sturdy wooden structure that had weathered five more years of wear and care. The soft hum of activity echoed through the walls as life within the orphanage carried on. Though the years had passed, the bonds forged within these walls had only deepened, strengthened by shared struggles, triumphs, and the mysterious ties that linked them all.
In the backfield, the sounds of training rang out—a rhythmic clash of wooden practice weapons and the dull thud of blows hitting padded targets. Alistar, now five years old, stood at the center of the makeshift training ground, his feet planted firmly on the ground. His small yet sturdy frame betrayed a surprising strength for his age, the result of countless hours spent under Darnell's watchful eye.
His dark brown hair had grown thick, often falling into his piercing green eyes, a trait that gave him an air of determination beyond his years. His complexion was warm, sun-kissed from hours spent outdoors, and his posture already held the beginnings of a leader's confidence. Though young, there was a maturity in the way he gripped the wooden training sword, his small hands steady and precise as he mimicked Darnell's movements.
Nearby, Ox loomed like a mountain among hills. Even at five, his size was astonishing, his broad shoulders and muscular frame making him look years older. His rich copper skin, inherited from his orcish heritage, gleamed under the sunlight, and his jet-black hair was kept short, framing his strong jawline. His amber eyes sparkled with a mixture of mischief and focus as he swung his fists against a padded target, preferring raw strength over weapons. The tusks that peeked from the corners of his mouth, though small now, hinted at the powerful warrior he would one day become.
Cross, standing a few feet away, moved with a natural grace that set him apart. His elven heritage was undeniable—his slender frame, pale complexion, and slightly pointed ears gave him an ethereal quality. His silver-blond hair, cropped short for practicality, shimmered faintly in the sunlight. Despite his youth, there was a sharpness in his amber eyes, a quiet intensity that belied his years. He handled his wooden bow with precision, each arrow striking the center of the target with uncanny accuracy. Though quiet and reserved compared to Alistar and Ox, Cross's focus and skill spoke volumes.
Darnell stood a few paces away, his lean, muscular frame unchanged in its capability but weathered with time. His once purely dark hair now bore streaks of silver, and faint lines creased the corners of his sharp brown eyes. He observed the boys with a mix of pride and amusement, his deep voice carrying over the field as he barked out instructions.
"Alistar, tighten your grip. If you hold it too loosely, the blade will slip. Ox, focus on control! Strength's only useful if you can aim it. Cross, don't forget to breathe between shots—you'll need steady hands for a real bow."
The three boys responded with nods, their youthful determination shining through their sweat and panting breaths.
---
Inside the orphanage, Lera moved through the halls with a quiet efficiency that belied her small stature. At thirty-five, she remained as vibrant as ever, though faint streaks of gray had begun to show in her auburn hair, usually tied back into a simple braid. Her warm brown eyes, filled with equal parts compassion and resolve, softened as she checked on Zara and Sparks, who were perched by the windowsill.
Sparks, the shortest of the group, had inherited the sturdy build of her dwarven lineage, though it was softened by her youthful features. Her fiery red hair was a mass of unruly curls that framed her freckled face, and her round, copper-colored eyes seemed to dance with mischief and curiosity. She was hunched over a small pile of gears and springs, her nimble fingers already adept at tinkering despite her young age.
Zara sat beside her, her golden eyes gazing out the window with a quiet serenity. Her fair skin, pale even compared to her human companions, glowed softly in the sunlight, and her silvery-white hair fell in gentle waves to her shoulders. The fox-like ears atop her head twitched occasionally, a sign of her beastkin heritage. Though she was the most reserved of the group, there was a calm wisdom in her demeanor, even at five.
Greaves entered the room from the kitchen, his presence as steady as ever. At thirty-eight, he had embraced his role as the orphanage's rock, his once youthful features now marked with the subtle signs of age. His salt-and-pepper beard was neatly trimmed, and his broad frame still carried the strength of his younger days, though his movements were slower, more deliberate.
"Lunch is almost ready," Greaves announced, his voice carrying a warmth that seemed to fill the room. "Where are the boys?"
Lera glanced toward the backfield. "Still training with Darnell, I imagine. They'll work themselves to exhaustion if we let them."
Greaves chuckled. "Let them. Builds character." He turned to Sparks and Zara. "How about you two? Staying out of trouble?"
Sparks grinned, holding up a small, half-assembled contraption. "I'm making something! Not sure what yet, but it's gonna be great!"
Zara smiled faintly, her gaze still on the horizon. "We'll see."
The sound of the front door opening drew their attention. Sam entered, his lean frame and soot-streaked hands a clear indication of his morning spent at the forge. At twenty-five, his youthful energy was tempered by the discipline of his craft. His brown hair was cropped short, and his hazel eyes carried a quiet determination. Despite the dirt on his hands and clothes, there was a brightness to his smile as he greeted them.
"Morning," he said, setting a small parcel on the table. "Stopped by the bakery on my way back. Thought I'd bring something sweet for the kids."
"You're spoiling them," Greaves teased, though he accepted the parcel with a nod of gratitude. "But I'm sure they'll appreciate it."
Sam glanced toward the window, where the sounds of training echoed faintly. "Where's Alistar, Ox, and Cross?"
"Backfield," Lera replied. "They've been at it all morning."
Sam shook his head with a chuckle. "Those three. They'll be unstoppable one day."
Lera stepped out onto the back porch, shading her eyes as she called out to the group in the backfield. "Boys! Come inside! Sam brought something from the bakery, and lunch is almost ready!"
The mention of sweets was enough to grab their attention. Ox immediately stopped mid-swing, grinning broadly as he tossed the wooden practice dummy he had been using to the ground. "You don't have to tell me twice!"
Cross rolled his eyes, slinging his bow over his shoulder. "You act like you've never had sweets before."
Alistar, ever the mediator, chuckled as he wiped sweat from his brow. "Come on, Cross. Even you can't resist a good pastry."
Darnell clapped his hands together, signaling the end of training. "That's enough for now. Let's go see what Sam's brought us. You've earned it."
The group made their way inside, their boots thudding softly against the wooden floors as they entered the dining area. Sparks and Zara were already seated, their faces lighting up when they saw the tray of baked goods Sam had set out on the table.
"Cinnamon rolls!" Sparks exclaimed, her eyes wide. "Sam, you're the best!"
Zara offered a soft smile. "Thank you, Sam."
Sam grinned, pulling out a chair. "Don't thank me yet. Let's see if they're as good as they look."
The boys quickly washed up before joining the table, the room filling with the warm aroma of cinnamon and sugar. The chatter was light and cheerful as they passed around the rolls, the sweetness of the treat a small indulgence that brightened the day.
As lunch wound down, the room was filled with the quiet clatter of plates and cups being tidied up. The warmth of shared food and laughter lingered in the air, but Alistar's furrowed brow hinted at a question brewing in his mind.
He hesitated, fidgeting with his fingers, before finally speaking up. "Um… can I ask something?"
All eyes turned to him. Lera tilted her head, her expression soft. "Of course, Alistar. What is it?"
"Well…" He glanced at the others, his voice lowering slightly. "This morning, while we were training, I heard… like a ding in my head. And then, these words just… appeared in front of me."
Lera and Greaves exchanged a sharp look. Sam and Darnell sat up straighter, their casual postures gone.
"What kind of words?" Greaves asked, his tone careful.
Alistar shifted uncomfortably. "It said 'Status Page' at the top. And… it had numbers. Like strength, agility… things like that. I didn't understand all of it."
Sparks, sitting nearby, straightened in her seat. "A status page? You mean, like the kind you're supposed to see when you turn ten?"
"That's what I thought," Alistar said, glancing around nervously. "But I'm only five."
Cross's sharp amber eyes narrowed as he leaned forward. "Did anyone else hear a ding this morning?"
The table fell silent as everyone exchanged glances. Slowly, the other four shook their heads.
"I didn't hear anything," Zara said softly. "But… if Alistar saw a status page, that's not normal, right?"
"No," Darnell said grimly, his hand tightening around his cup. "The status page is supposed to stay locked until a class is revealed at age ten. What you're describing, Alistar, shouldn't be possible."
Before Alistar could respond, a faint glow began to emanate from his chest. The adults froze, their eyes widening as the light pulsed softly. The same glow appeared on Cross, Sparks, Zara, and Ox, spreading across the room in a cascade of light.
The children gasped, looking down at the glowing marks on their bodies. The pulsing light seemed to breathe, alive and rhythmic, and suddenly, chains of light emerged from their marks, linking the five of them together.
"What… what's happening?" Sparks whispered, her small hands gripping the edge of the table.
The chains pulsed, radiating a subtle hum of power. Lera and Greaves could only stare in stunned silence, their breaths caught in their throats.
Then, with a sudden flash, the glow from Alistar's mark brightened. A faint shimmer appeared in front of him—a transparent panel of light. Words and numbers hovered there, clearly visible to everyone in the room.
"Is that…?" Greaves murmured, his voice trailing off.
"My status page," Alistar confirmed, his voice shaky. "It just… appeared again."
As the adults stared, the other children's marks began to glow brighter. One by one, similar panels appeared in front of Cross, Sparks, Zara, and Ox. Each page displayed their names, attributes, and a list of skills, with several empty slots beneath.
The room was filled with a tense, awestruck silence as the adults leaned in to read.
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Alistar's Status Page
Strength: 15
Agility: 13
Dexterity: 14
Intelligence: 12
Wisdom: 11
Skills:
Light Barrier (Level 1): Creates a protective shield of light around an ally or area.
Combat Awareness (Passive): Enhances reaction time and perception in battle.
Unknown Passive: ???
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Greaves frowned, his eyes narrowing at the line of question marks. "What does that mean? 'Unknown Passive'?"
"I don't know," Alistar said quietly. "It's just there. I can't see anything else about it."
The adults barely had time to process this when Sparks gasped. Her status page displayed itself prominently in front of her.
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Sparks' Status Page
Strength: 12
Agility: 13
Dexterity: 15
Intelligence: 14
Wisdom: 10
Skills:
Electric Discharge (Level 1): Emits a burst of electricity, stunning nearby enemies.
Technical Intuition (Passive): Increases proficiency with tools and machinery.
Unknown Passive: ???
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Sparks stared at her page, her mouth opening and closing as if she didn't know where to start. "I have… skills? Already? But I've never even used this before!"
"Looks like you have," Sam muttered, recalling the electric shock during the slaver attack. "It must've activated then."
The other status pages followed in rapid succession. Cross, Ox, and Zara all displayed similar attributes and skills, each with their own unique passive ability. But, like Alistar and Sparks, each of them had one skill shrouded in mystery.
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Cross' Status Page
Strength: 13
Agility: 16
Dexterity: 15
Intelligence: 12
Wisdom: 10
Skills:
Precision Shot (Level 1): Fires an arrow with unerring accuracy, ignoring cover.
Keen Senses (Passive): Heightens hearing and vision.
Unknown Passive: ???
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Ox's Status Page
Strength: 17
Agility: 12
Dexterity: 13
Intelligence: 8
Wisdom: 10
Skills:
War Cry (Level 1): Lets out a bellowing roar that frightens enemies and boosts allies' morale.
Unyielding (Passive): Increases resistance to physical damage.
Unknown Passive: ???
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Zara's Status Page
Strength: 11
Agility: 13
Dexterity: 12
Intelligence: 15
Wisdom: 14
Skills:
Healing Touch (Level 1): Restores a small amount of health to an ally.
Empathic Connection (Passive): Detects and soothes emotional distress.
Unknown Passive: ???
---
The room buzzed with questions and uncertainty. "This shouldn't be possible," Greaves said, running a hand through his hair. "How are they accessing their status pages now? And why do they all have… those question marks?"
"It's the bonds," Lera said quietly, her eyes fixed on the fading chains of light. "It has to be. Aelon's magic—this is his doing."
"But why now?" Sam asked, his tone both awed and worried. "What does it mean for them?"
"I don't know," Lera admitted, her voice heavy. "But we need to figure it out."
The children, meanwhile, were silent, staring at their glowing status pages with a mix of wonder and unease. None of them knew what to say.
As the status pages faded, the adults exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of the moment pressing heavily on them. Greaves leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed, his expression grim. "Their attributes are... abnormal. For their age, I mean."
"More than abnormal," Darnell added, his brow furrowed. "At five years old, most kids would barely have half those numbers. And that's if they've been training since they could walk."
Lera, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, nodded. "Aelon's blessing... it's affecting more than just their abilities. It's as if they're growing into something far beyond what's natural."
Sam tapped a finger on the table, his expression thoughtful. "And those question marks—whatever that hidden passive is—it's tied to the marks. To the bonds. It's not something we can just ignore."
Lera took a deep breath, her gaze settling on the glowing marks on the children. "Tonight, we'll visit the shrine. Maybe Aelon will give us answers. If anyone knows what's happening, it's him."
Greaves grunted, his tone laced with sarcasm. "Oh, sure. Just march up to an old god and demand answers. That always goes well."
Darnell chuckled despite the tension. "What else can we do? Sit here and pretend we didn't just see magic that shouldn't exist?"
The room fell silent again, the air heavy with the weight of the unknown. The adults looked at each other, their resolve firm despite .