When Magic Bleeds: Rise of the Mana Champion

Kael stopped at the edge of the trail, glancing back with an uncertain look. "Do you think we just followed some random girl?" he asked, voice low, almost a whisper. Elion remained still, arms crossed, staring at the cabin ahead. "Maybe," he answered slowly, "but it didn't feel like an ordinary walk." Kael frowned, tightening his grip on the dagger. "The way she disappeared… it wasn't normal. And the way the forest shifted around us too." Elion nodded, and a heavy silence fell between them, broken only by the distant rustling of leaves. "Whoever she is, we're standing at the edge of something bigger," he said at last. "Let's find out." The two exchanged a glance — a silent, shared decision. With steady steps, they moved toward the cabin door, where the strong scent of herbs and mystery awaited them.

Kael and Elion pushed open the door, which creaked softly, revealing an interior bathed in dim light and filled with the sharp scents of dried herbs and burning candles. Filtered light from amber-colored windows cast dancing shadows on walls lined with shelves full of jars, crystals, and ancient tomes.

In the center of the room sat a woman at a rustic wooden table, her eyes glowing with natural runes that pulsed beneath her skin. She wore a mantle woven with dry leaves and bits of bark, and her long silver hair cascaded in soft waves over her shoulders. An aura of ancient wisdom and calm power surrounded her — almost tangible.

Behind her, the green-haired girl reappeared timidly, holding a small basket of freshly gathered herbs. "Welcome to Hollowrest," the woman said, her voice calm but firm. "I am Sylrlien Myrralei, Guardian of the Spirals." Kael exchanged a quick look with Elion, taking in the woman's imposing presence. "And this is Nymeria," Sylrlien continued, nodding to the girl. "My daughter. She's grown up among the trees and knows their secrets like no one else." Nymeria lowered her head slightly, still shy, though her green eyes sparkled with curiosity — and a flicker of defiance.

"There are many Marked Champions in the world," Sylrlien said, her tone growing a bit heavier, almost somber. "But few are like you, Kael. The mark you carry is different… unstable. Many would say you are… defective. Unable to control the mana that leaks from your skin — a burden that burns without end."

Kael raised an eyebrow, arms crossed as he leaned his weight against the wall. "Since we're in the mood for mystical confessions…" he began, eyes wandering over the strange decorations of the room. "Do you know something called the Triune Link potion? Heard about it in a forgotten village at the edge of the world. One of the locals swore it helps Marked Champions become one with the massive mana they're given."

He made a vague gesture with his bandaged hand, as if tracing the invisible chaos surrounding him. "Supposedly, it aligns everything. The mark, the mana, the mind. Stops the power from acting like a screaming child inside a temple." A tired smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"The Triune Link Potion?" Sylrlien frowned slightly, eyes gleaming with curiosity. "If you mean the Champion's Elixir… that one is kept in Valdros, the Cradle of Champions. It's earned in the Coliseum — a proof of mastery. But… the name you used, I've never heard it before."

Kael sighed with a half-smile and slipped a hand inside his tunic, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper stained with dirt and frayed at the edges. "Of course not. If it were easy, it'd be sold at market stalls by now." He spread the paper across the living wood of the table, revealing almost illegible handwriting mixed with hastily scribbled notes. "Found this in a forgotten village after hearing a drunk old man nearly choke trying to say 'Triune Link'. Sounded poetic enough to keep."

He turned the paper toward her, tapping each listed ingredient with his finger:

[Nerithil Root][ Suppresses mana flow instability; harvested at half-light in Darkvale. ]

[Coraluna Petals][ Align magical frequency; extracted under full moon in calm reefs of the Crimson Sea. ]

[Umberhills Fragile Crystal][ Magical catalyst uniting body, mind, and essence; collected in caves where peaceful spirits roam. ]

"They say this thing makes mana stop behaving like a wild cat stuck in your throat. And that if it works, the Marked can finally breathe without glowing like a walking lighthouse." He raised his left arm, from which a faint glow escaped beneath the bandages. "In my case, that would be a blessing."

Sylrlien studied the paper in silence, her eyes narrowing slightly as she absorbed each word. The gentle glow of her runes pulsed under her skin — whether from surprise, concern, or simple focus, Kael couldn't tell. "Interesting…" she murmured.

Sylrlien glanced over the recipe one last time, then looked back at Kael — not with judgment, but with a silence that spoke louder than any direct response. "I can provide the first item on your list," she said at last, returning the paper with a calm gesture. "The Nerithil Root grows near an old sanctuary in the northwestern edge of the forest. Not a place to go alone, but… I can help."

She turned then toward one of the cabin's small windows, where the last light of dusk was beginning to fade behind the trees. "But it's getting late. You should rest. If you want, you can set up a tent behind my herb shed. The ground is flat, and spirits rarely wander this close."

Kael nodded, already folding the paper carefully. Before he could thank her, Elion — who had remained silent with arms crossed — finally spoke: "I don't think we have a tent anymore. The horse ran off with our supplies when that ambush started."

Sylrlien raised an eyebrow and tilted her head slightly, as if listening to something in the distance. "A white horse? Quiet, but with sharp eyes?" Elion straightened immediately. "It's right there, behind my shed, grazing like nothing happened."

Before anyone could say a word, Elion had already turned on his heels and walked out the door as if the world were on fire — or as if reuniting with the horse mattered more than breathing. Kael let out a muffled laugh, tucked the paper back into his tunic, and followed him out.