Mana Whisperer

Prologue

  In the distant countryside of East Valharden, in the air above a junction between the nearby plains and the mountain region bedecked by the canopies of massive trees, at the end of a ridge, a fissure in the fabric of time and space emerged. As this was a world built solely on an energy source to which the name 'mana' was given unto, it was surprising to see such destabilized dimensional matter in its domain. Here, certain humans could achieve superhuman feats, wingless flight to mention one thing, and break through the mold of normalcy.

In this place, above the gushing waters separated into two steady streams by a large boulder, the very air distorted as a spatial tear began to wrench and vertically rip apart space.

As the dimensional wormhole opened up, the surrounding air grew thin, sucked in as if there was a desultory siphon connected to the nothingness of space inside, void of matter and life. Every living creature in the area grew increasingly mute; a maturing deer raised its tiny head from afar, staring towards the unnatural phenomenon, its beady eyes reflecting deep-seated dread, its limbs frozen. The better part of the animals inside the forest scurried off at mach speed.

From within the unnerving pit of darkness of the void inside the spatial distortion came nothing — at first. Before long, sounds of a wailing infant faintly emerged like a drowning man's futile calls, until, finally, they came as a thunderclap in the midst of the soundless environment — so sudden and piercing, indeed, that it made even the trees in the area tremble, the stems of the incipiently falling leaves wilting akin to the loss of hair in humans when met with tremendous, life-ending stress. It was in the middle of summer, yet this was a sight reserved for autumn. It was only when the infant was gently placed down onto the boulder beneath the vortex-portal by an invisible force that it fell silent, comforted by the invisible force's touch to the cheek.

"My son..." Dulcet tones echoed faintly.

Then, the 'force' dissipated, forever.

Leaves fell, floating down through the area like spring petals of some significant yearly event, and as if a moth drawn to flame, a young man from the local area scouting out the outskirts of the village nearby had approached, gazing upon the diminishing spatial tear with his eyes wide open in awe at the sight. He wore lavish armor for such a desolate area in the countryside, the plated mail gleaming golden in the dim-lit shade of the forested junction between plains and mountains. The few rays of sunlight that struck his face through the canopies made him squint a few times, both out of disbelief and a natural ocular reaction to the change in the sunlight's intensity.

"By the twelve... how has a tear in space occurred here?!" The youth spoke, his voice shaky, but his astonishment ended prematurely once the infant swathed in a plain red blanket entered his vision by the tip of the sabatons on his feet.

Approaching with worried steps, the youth, Eustace, crouched down to scrutinize the foreign child's features and appearance. It was a simple baby, its pudgy cheeks yet to be molded by age, and tufts of dark-blue hair on a head of pure white devoid of scars or the vicissitudes of time. "... Did this little guy come from... that?"

Hardly believable.

His green eyes, carrying the gentleness of a field of grass, shifted between the baby and the spatial tear. It wasn't possible, right? The air it gave off felt otherworldly.

The scrutiny was short-lived, however, as the vortex began to close in on itself. The world's own mechanisms began to repair the wound in its axis of space without complaint or hesitation. If he had the capacity to stomach this, surely he'd have exploited this opportunity to examine the intricacies involving the spatial forces of nature! Left alone with the silent baby, Eustace found himself unable to abandon the child due to a severe case of personal principle, staring into the twinkling, innocent, purple eyes of the child with a helpless look.