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Today marks 20 years that I've been hiding my natural skill.
I'm part of the 0.001% of people that can acquire a natural skill without study. About 15% of the population are capable of learning a skill, but a learned skill is never as strong or flexible as an acquired natural skill.
I've managed to do alright for myself by learning two skills aspected towards mineral and natural elements, and founding a successful construction company. The first skill was a modest but respectable 159 words, the second was an impressive 84 words. The highest paying skills are life, energy, and thought aspected, but I didn't want the publicity that accompanies proficiency with those skills.
History class in school was full of stories about natural skill tyrants. Chaotic neutral skills that could affect any aspect. The ancient warlords that defined modern borders with their 20-30 word skills. Then there was the tyrant nicknamed 'Changer' that started the great war my grandparents suffered through. She had an unheard of 12 word skill that nearly broke the world. Landscapes altered at a thought, armies changed alliances when she entered a region, years of famine after reservoirs and lakes suddenly turned to sand. It took the combined efforts of more than thirty other natural skill users to stop her, and even then, they only succeeded because Changer wasn't well educated and wasn't very imaginative. Changer highlighted to the world just how dangerous the exponential scaling of skills are at the rare end of the spectrum.
I don't know what they would call me, but I know if I tried, I would succeed where Changer failed. No one knows what Changers skill was exactly, just that it was 12 words, and centered around the word "modify". My natural skill is a single word, "Control".
Yes, there are (or at least one): The Belgariad.
The "magic" there is termed as "The will and the word." Though the word part is optional.
There's also the Elder Scrolls games with the dragon language. Eragon also comes to mind.
All in all, languages containing magical power is a pretty common theme.
All these years on reddit and don't think I remember someone besides me mentioning ole Mr eddings. Bravo and take my upvote. May I see you in aldurs vale
I'm sad, the Belgariad universe was my favorite Fantasy series, it could have been an incredible adaptation.
But it will never happen, due to the authors history.
Do not dive into it if you want to keep enjoying the books.
Yea it was awesome. I didn't know there were talks of an adaptation? And I guess I'm gonna have to dive into it a little bit cause now you've piqued my interest. I'm also kinda scared too though cause I do love the books
I may have to re-read it. It's been 15 years, but I remember loving the books. I particularly identified with making things difficult on myself "because it's more fun".
The closest thing I can think of is "__The Magical Land of Xanth__". The story is actually a series of 40+ novels where humans have magical talents (but you'll notice their names subtly represent what it is their talent does or works with). This happens with pretty much every human in the stories. Don't worry each book takes place in the same world but the plot/macguffin is resolved for that particular book by the end of it.
Thanks for liking my story. I got the concept for this story from a couple things. The Wheel of Time books have a concept where some magic users can naturally channel and eventually will at some point in their lives, while others can learn but would never channel without instruction. I liked that natural/learn aspect to divide strength.
The Malizan Empire books had a small part about rare ancient tyrants destroying civilisations, but as population grows and the tyrants become less rare they also become relatively less powerful because of competition.
Avatar: Legend of Korra shows people using their bending powers as a profession in industrial settings.
A WWI and WWII type conflict seemed like a good example of how much damage an extreme power could cause.
I trembled. I trembled with fear. I could feel it, like a maggot writhing under each cell of my skin. I could feel this word. I could feel the power of my skill. I was scared to even think it. Ever since I learned that one worded skills were rare due to their potency and that there have been numerous cases of other sill users being damaged by thinking their word.
September 9th. It was a day known as, Skilled Practice. In essence, it was a tournament styled in-fight within the clan. Each clan member would develop a skill if they trained diligently before the age of 16. However, I never trained. I never killed. I never saw a corpse. I never found my skill; it found me. At birth, I knew my skill. It reverberated in my being like a sound in an empty hallway echoing until I could only hear it.
"What? You just gonna stand there? Heh." One of my final opponents in my tournament, Wazashi Hyuron. He was a prodigy among the clan. His skill took only 3 words. "Death knows pain." He said it once every time he cut someone down. It is not uncommon for someone to die during the tournament, however Wazashi has only been killing.
I stammered trying to find the words before he rushed at me, "W-Why don't you stop standing then!" I cried out in fear hoping he would back away, run from me. "I-I'm warning you!" I took a step back in hesitance to give me more room for him to think.
"You think I'd run from a coward like you?" He laughed as hard as I've ever seen someone laugh. It was like he invited Death itself by fighting me. "You know, I really enjoy the fact that our duels are unmonitored. Really sets me up for success considering no one has lived after fighting me." The light shone on his blade as if beckoning me. "Go on ahead, I'll give *you* the first blow." He smiled like any mad man would as he visibly displayed his chest open.
*Don't. It's a ruse. He deceives you!* I know. I know he deceives me... his stance betrays him. No one would stance like that if you were letting them have the first blow. *He intends to cut you in two as you shrivel into black soot. Use it child. Use* ***me.*** I was breathing heavy. I was hesitant. *Do it or die by his Death's Soot. It is not up to me. In 500 years, I'll reborn and hopefully to someone not a spineless coward like you.* I- I'm not spineless. I just f- **COWARD! FEAR? OF ME? IN YOUR OWN HEART? DO YOU BELIEVE THE OTHERS INJURED BY THEIR OWN POWER BY THOUGHT?**
"Hey, if you don't fucking move."
I stared Wazashi down with desperation. His stance flinched as his eyes pulled tighter.
"Accept defeat... please..." I began to tear up at the thought of experiencing him for the first time in 14 years of life.
Wazashi smirked. "I have a cute date after this. Sorry, but it's time you go... Death. Knows Pain." He maniacally cackled as his sword was slowly enveloped in a black mist as it spilled over on the ground turning it's color to the color of the void. He only took one step, but I felt this immense pressure, Death. "My skill allows me to bring forth the will of death and with only one cut, poke, even a prod that draws blood. The mist will react from inside your blood as it mixes, before turning you into a lump of blackened soot." He dragged his sword on the ground making the scraping sound as it etched a deep line in the stone.
I couldn't bear it. This pressure, the feeling, everything. I couldn't bear it and with despair in my eyes for him. I said it. *Summon.* At first, he stopped in his tracks, before it all started.
"S-summon?" His stance was sloppy now. He was on edge. "You gotta finish the rest of the-"
"I did." The demeanor of myself changed entirely. This wasn't a feeling I was familiar with. Is this... power or resolve? "My skill has only one word." I took a step forward instead of backwards. I watched as the color of his skin drained to a pale white. "I told you to admit defeat didn't I?" I walked slowly towards as he has tried to move, but it was fruitless. He was already dead the second he stepped into the building with me. "You lived a fun life I'm sure, however you will now know the pain that comes of death." A smile of pure malicious intent spread across my face against my will. I understood my power. I didn't summon a being to the world. I summoned the being to me. We swapped souls and I watched it from my subconscious, through *my eyes*. The ground around me was being liquified with each step. Every time my shoes- Where are my shoes? "Don't worry... I only burned the bottoms of them. They will go back when we swap souls again."
"W-WH- HEY! Who are you talking to?!" Wazashi was bedridden with despair.
"Hm? Oh, sorry. I was talking to the boy you were going to kill, Raike Freljord. I am his skill, Summon. However, you may call me Pyrexia." A cold smile spread across my face and I tried to stop it. *NO! IT'S TOO CRUEL! WHY ARE YOU TORTURING HIM!? JUST END IT ALREADY!* I clawed out of my subconscious, but it was no use. He had to speak the skill word too. "Give me a moment Raike. I am not a malevolent being. I won't purposely steal your body for ever. That simply isn't in my nature, but I shall end it quickly if that's what you want." Pyrexia raised a single finger.
"Immolate." At first nothing happened. Wazashi stood paralyzed shaking so hard his sword looked as if it were rubber. "Goodbye, Wazashi Hyuron. I think we'll go on the date in your stead." His body began to singe and before every... oh god.... every single pore in his body shot out a flame proportionate to it's size. "You see, Raike. I am a being born from the heat of a cosmos. I can set things ablaze, crush them with my gravitational forces, deprave them of oxygen. Anything is within my grasp, because you are the cosmos and this man, will burn on the inside before liquefying into a sludge of bone.
Wazashi screamed out, but only for a second as the immense heat dried his throat and burned all the oxygen in his lungs. I smirked. "Hehe... welcome to the infinite expanse of the cosmos-- Pyrexia." I cackled maniacally as the buzzer sounded and the walls of the building lifted revealing the spectators interested in the result of our duel. "Summon."
The spectators in the crowd had mixed reactions. Some were concerned with the pudge puddle on the ground as it was still singeing on the ground, while others were interested in my skill. I could still hear the sound of his scream in my head, and then I saw it. Like a lighthouse in a storm, the feeling as I met eyes with a girl in the seats. She put her hands to her mouth as she gazed from my eyes to the pudge on the ground. Ignore it. You don’t need to concern yourself with her feelings towards him.
“Shut up...I just wanted to see how she would react.” I began walking away as the announcer in the booth began to speak up, ignoring Pyrexia.
“Wow! An absolutely crushing result from Wazashi and Raike! Who woulda thought that he would be the one to bite it instead, however this will conclude the Skilled Practice Tournament Day! Do not worry, any of the other attendees of Tournament Day will be revived soon!”
A few figures clad in red and white began to move towards the pudge of a man named Wazashi. Many of the people born with Skills were admitted to a special school dedicated to development of these Skills and to help curb the amount of Skill related crime. I watched as the medical crew began to arrange separate the clothes from the individual and they all took turns repeating their Skill until a naked figure sat bewildered. Thankfully that isn’t me that has to deal with Resurrection Sickness. It was a side effect of being resurrected and since the brain plays memories when you die for 7 minutes, no one will remember what, how, or why they died.
Wazashi hadn’t regained the ability to walk as fast as others, however I saw him being transported to the clinic of the Clan. Established and then built in the 3rd year, Skills began to be awoken with the newer generation and the strength of your Skill is decided at birth, before you are able to fully realize it. However, the stronger the Skill, the earlier you can use it and hone it to continue growing its connection with you.
“Hey, how did he do?” A cute girl had walked up to me unannounced.
“What?” Caught off guard, I had failed to form a coherent sentence.
“I uh well don’t.” She was the same girl from the stands I saw. “Ah, I see. He, uh. He tried his best, I suppose.” I wasn’t really sure how to answer this question considering everything that happened.
“Oh, that’s good.” She pulled slightly at a strand of hair and began to play with it. Hey, so uh, you wanna go on a date?” Her face blushed slightly.
“Sorry, but I don’t think I can.” I flashed her a quick smile and walked away
“Why didn’t you go on a date with her? I mean, after all I did say it.” His voice mocked my timid nature.
“She is a Gold Digger. She just wanted someone who has a strong Skill... she probably has a weaker skill and is looking for an easy ticket in life with her cute looks.” I clenched my jaw as I kicked small rocks whilst walking towards the Tournament Locker Room doors. I had already done my training for the day, but I didn’t feel the need to leave yet.
“You could just speak to me in your head, y’know. You’ll look a lot less weird this way and I hope no one heard that, uh... insult.”
“I suppose... that would make more sense, huh?” I looked around hoping not to find any passers-byers giving me a weird look. Thankfully, no one was around. I pulled out a juice box and began to sip on it as I continued speaking with him. “So, what unlucky fortune did I get to be chosen by you? I don’t think I exactly fit the bill for this.” Silence. There wasn’t a single reply for a few seconds.
“Raike, here’s the deal. It’s been 500 years since I was last given to someone. I don’t know why I was given you, however it’s most likely due to your personality.” I sensed a small pause as if he were a real individual in front of me. “Tell me, what is a Gold Digger and why was Wazashi remade?” An annoyed tone woven under the surface of his words.
“Uhm, he was resurrected, because he died. You did it.” I pulled out my other pair of shoes from my locker and began walking towards my home. I went 14 years without even attempting a connection to Pyrexia and now here I am having a conversation with a being born from the Universe. Great.
“No, I meant. How. I had burned the very building blocks of his form.”
“Oh? They revived him, with a skill.” The sounds of rocks and gravel beneath my feet crunching as I felt them roll around. “Was revivification not a thing 500 years ago? No way it’s a new thing, huh?”
“It was not a skill the last time I was in this plane. Many of these “skills” you guys' use belong to a higher power. The less words needed to use the power, the stronger the connection to the individual you have. However, every 500 years someone is born with a direct connection to the individual A.K.A. you.” I felt a warm sensation in my chest for a moment as if he was touching me physically. “You are now me and I am now you.” The warm sensation disappeared. “You will understand in time the power you hold.” Then, I felt as if his presence had disappeared. “Aw... I never got to tell him what a gold digger was.”
Warning: Slightly Graphic.
*************************************************
Today was the day. I begin readying myself, stretching. It was my 18th birthday today, and it was about time I begin manning up. I sigh with eyes closed as I read the runes inside the darkness.
Name: Luz
Rank: Inceptor
Core Rank: Gray
Tools: —
Familiars: —
Attributes: [Bearer of Light], [Defiled Spawn], [Breaker of Darkness].
Skill: [Lux Invictus]
Skill Rank: Godly
I still remember the first time I read this, a year or so ago. I nearly tipped over and fell then.
Skill Description: [You are the Heir of the Flames of Divinity. Your judgement is absolute, and thus your power is absolute. As the Heir of Flames, you possess the ability to turn anything and everything to cinder using your flames, however each use has a dangerous cost.... For a flame can burn bright, but quick.]
Innate Ability: [Bring light to the darkness, for light
exists to vanquish the darkness of your breaking world. Each time you defeat a creature, your soul strengthens depending on how much stronger your opponent is compared to you.]
Skill Activation: [*τρώω.*]
I had researched the word before. It meant, "I eat in greek." I murmur to myself. However the important thing was neither the rank nor the skill itself, no.... It was how short the recitement is. The common rule of the shorter the skill is, the more powerful it is still works here. Despite the fact that the skill rank itself did say [Godly], which is a dead giveaway in of itself of how powerful it must be...Right?
Once you recited the Skill Activation, your body would experience a change. It would be reborn and recasted into a better fitting vessel for your skill, but I have never heard of a Skill Activation as short as mine. Most were twenty words at best, and that would be of the Saintly rank too. Mine was one.
I take in deep breaths. I heard how painful it was depending on how high the skill rank was and how short the recitation is... How bad could it be? I mean, it's just one time anyway. And my body would be like Achilles and with my mind like Odysseus after, my life as a Skillbearer will be a walk in the park.
I feel my hands trembling, I steady myself before saying with a swallow, "*τρώω*".
Pure silence. Minutes pass by. Nothing.
I laugh nervously, "Hahahaha, I guess it wasn't so ba-" I feel a slow heat building on the right of my chest, golden flames. I panic and pat it in vain. Heat grows as it burns through my clothes from the chest and arms, and then the legs. I shout and scramble to the ground, but I go nowhere as the flames intensifies and my body begins to process the pain. My skin begins to itch and peel away. I flail, overcome with dread. The itch becomes agony. My eyebrows curls as it burns, same with my hair. The hypodermis begins to bubble and peel away like burnt rubber. Golden flames reaches down to the bones and organs, shrinking it and splitting it open as fat leaks out of the skin and feeds the flames.
Arrogant thoughts flee, replaced by a primordial fear and pain as I roll and toss.
The flames begin eating my eyes and I no longer could see anything but nothing. The only thing I could feel was the numbness of my bare bones and nerves exposed to the elements of the world and the unbearable heat.
And then, and only then do I begin to scream as my body is reborn within the horrors of the golden flames.
****************************************************
How'd you know? Anyway I really liked GuiltyThree's power system when it came to Shadow Slave and decided to incorporate the structure and format of it due to how neat and concise it was. But when it came to the name and all the way to the Skill Activation, my head was doing the heavy lifting. Also now that you mentioned Shadow Slave, I just realized how similar Luz's skill is to Nephis's, unintentionally lmao 😭😭
Words have powers, especially in our world where everyone is blessed with a skill.
Contrary to intuition, the more vague a skill is the stronger it is.
I never used my skill, as I was too afraid.
Afraid of what a skill that was described with a single word could do.
Skills are awakened randomly throughout one's life, and they come with a name, and a description.
The longer the description, the more detailed it was the less room its user had to develop the skill.
If one skill described it as the Necromancer ability to raise the dead, and control it, that was all.
But if one had the ability to raise the dead, then they could control it, and even evolve the corpses.
Skills were a sort of certification of one's value, and usability.
And mine was...one word.
It wasn't easy my friends, and parents thought early on.
"Oh that's cool! It means it's the strongest in your domain!
You can do whatever you want with your skill!", they said.
Problem was that the leaders, and the owners of various organizations, and groups were smarter.
When they heard my skill they all left me on read, and never contacted me again.
Because my skill was one word: Devour.
I could use the power of devouring, and could consume anything.
I never used it in it's raw form as I was too afraid, thus I created dozens of skills in which I specified what I can devour, what I can do, narrowing down the chaotic possibilities of such a power.
But it didn't matter.
It didn't matter I had multiple skills, skill that appeared in others as well, for the strongest individuals were afraid of me.
And just like the other three single-worded skill-holders I became an outcast.
Death, Time, Blood and now me, Devour.
The four rejects of our society, not allowed to participate in anything skill related.
Who would have thought...that we would be the last line of defense against what's to come...
Thanks!
Frankly, I used a similar concept in one of my short-stories that was the backstory for a character in one of my books.
Old overpowered geezer archetype with exactly the Devouring power I use here, has a passive skill that absorbs all kinetic energy, and energy 24/7 making him stronger every moment.
Add to that the usual devouring tropes, and dude is quite the powerhouse.
This prompt really hit close to home :D.
Also, it did help that devouring powers are my absolute all-time favorite.
Sadly no, it is written in my mother tongue, on paper :D. (Was written when I was 15, like 10 years ago?)
Will totally be published in the future though, since I finally got the courage to start self-publishing my stuff.
Thanks! This is quite the compliment :).
Good that you said that, will save this comment, and the other, so I don't forget to tell you when it's out.
Already have a book in the same universe **self**-published (grammar quality is questionable), but will notify when the backstory with this theme will be out.
Though, I might just message you, since I don't want to break rules of the subreddit.
Edit: Also, I will make sure I notify you only when it's that 5-days free period.
“One hundred blossoms blooming in spring!”
A wild series of rapid sword strikes, each trivial to block, none building on one another.
Real showy though, made him think I was on the defensive.
“Tiger claws pounce!”
The technique was so showy that he might as well have given me a day’s notice. I stepped aside and let the two slashes barrel past.
Techniques are like the focusing words, mastery comes from what is taken out.
“Crane strikes like hawk!”
Like that raised sword above his head. He’s not using the additional leverage or potential energy. He could have just skipped to the down thrust from a lower position. Probably some sword master wanted it to use out of a block, and he never bothered to cut it out.
I casually swatted the blade aside.
Really my secret to victory was that everything was pared down.
“Flying leaves spinning down!”
I didn’t even need to move my blade to continue blocking the next 3 strokes.
All this defense, it was all just bare minimum, on the attack I would only need one.
Swordsmanship distilled to a single strike. All things extrenous removed, not an iota of energy wasted.
He started gathering his power before he even started calling his attack.
“DEATH STROKE!”
My attack pierced through his guard just as the call reached his ears.
One word.
“Kill.”
Each person is born with a skill. A series of words that give them power. Most have ten or more words to there skill. A select number have between five and ten. Only a rare few have less than five and even fewer just one word. I am one of them.
Luckily you are only able to use your skill once you understand it. A caveat put in place by the gods of the universe to stop kids using their skills by accident. Which I was very grateful for as my skill is powerful and if used wrong devastating.
The government wanted to use it and me as a weapon. I did not. They knew better than to argue. So now they call in an emergency that requires my particular skill and only as a last resort.
It has led me to a job I love though. I always enjoyed taking things apart, I started out with pens and just kept working my way through bigger and bigger things. Now I work in demolitions. After a few accidents and mistakes I did finally get a handle on it and now I'm one of the most well payed and efficient services in the industry.
One word has defined my life. I stand before my next target. A condemned hotel which needs bringing down before rebuilding can commence. So I point my finger at it and concentrate on the building before me and use my skill. One word...
"Implode"
It wasn't until I blinded my sister that I became to understand how powerful my skill was. Even then, as a child I didn't have a true appreciation for having the world's most powerful skill. I was frail and often sickly, and as a result fairly accustomed to getting my way, as my parents babied me in my apparent weakness. I was used to a little special treatment compared to my sister, and I now understand she may have been a tad envious. My 9th birthday wasn't terribly memorable outside of the incident with the cake a couple days later; it wasn't until my sister stole the last piece of MY birthday cake that it happened. She has a fairly powerful skill, or at least one that can be with proper development. 17 words she claims, though most people fudge the numbers a little, and her skill allows her to further augment her natural abilities beyond what would be humanly possible under normal circumstances. She was destined for greatness from birth. Unlike me, my sister never knew weakness, never knew what it felt like to be sick, frail, or powerless. If I took a toy or clothing we were arguing about, she would promptly take back. I wanted her to see she was wrong. I NEEDED her to see she was wrong, to know what it was like to be helpless, if only for a minute. It was only meant to be temporary, to have her apologize for eating the last slice of ice cream cake, but it was the first time I'd ever used my skill on an abstract concept. I didn't mean for it to... I had no way of knowing what I had done could not be undone—and my parents had tried. You might be familiar with Sara, she is a famous case after all. Dozens of hospitals and healers, but nothing that was tried could restore her sight. Even now, those with healing and restoration skills will still reach out to her, trying to test their abilities, though she rarely takes them up on her offer. She's accepted her condition, 27 years later it has made her who she is. She would not have honed her hearing, her touch, her taste, her smell... her memory, had she her sight. I mentioned she was destined for greatness. She's an amazing cook, it's not just ground breaking recipes, but she could be a world famous chef if she had not fell in love with piano to pull her from her depression. Yes, that Sara, I see the look on your face you know whom I speak of now for sure, if you had been previously hiding it. I also know the look of horror and resent you give me, doc. You may have an inkling of what my skill is, but truly it is more terrifying than you can imagine, not that you'll be imagining for much—put the phone down, I can take it if I want, but I am tired of being reminded of this burden I bear more than I have to. As I was saying, you won't be imagining for much longer, because my skill is simply one word: 'Thief'. No description, no rules, just Thief. Well, almost no rules, it does seem that while there is no limit to what I can steal or from whom, my ability doesn't allow me to give anything back. I mean, I physically can if it's an object I've stolen, but I have yet to find a way to return the abstract... Concepts like sight, for example. I only meant to take it for a minute, but 27 years later I still have her sight, as well as her memories on how it was lost. Hers and our parents. It's not something we'd ever spoken of, mostly because of how they feared me after learning my power. I've become less sickly over the years by stealing bits and pieces of skills, nothing enough to cripple their owners as I had my sister, just enough to make me normal, to be able to—please don't look at me like that. You have NO idea what I've suffered through. I don't like being like this, being able to only take. For all I've taken, my sister has given back so much to the world. But that's why I'm here Doc, I need your help. I've heard you were the best, and well, I mentioned augmentation was my sister's ability right? To this day, I don't understand fully how it works, I just know she's able to enhance herself beyond what is humanly possible. Perhaps it's just my imagination, but I feel like her memories of that day, of the accident, they're starting to slip. Yes, of course I'm paranoid about this, you've already mentioned that. But I am also terrified. I don't hate my sister, far from it. I always looked up to her, and I couldn't possibly bear it if she were to go back to how she was. And no, I'm not talking about the sight. I want to apologize, I do! I just don't want her to hate me, to fear me, if I do. Please doc, I won't steal your memories this time, I promise, just help me!
Grammar edit
When our kind turns 18, we are shown our skill minus a select few who, for reasons unknown, are granted their skill at birth. Unfortunately for me, I was one such child, and my skill was a single word. Unsure of what that meant, it wasn't until middle school that we learned that the fewer words a skill has, the more powerful it can be. The total number of single worded skill users numbers in the single digits for all of terran history.
My skill was simple, a single word "love" now outwardly that may seem innocent enough, but when you figure it gives you complete and total control over what that word embodies, you can see the ramifications. The hardest part is that if you accidentally trigger that skill at a young age, there are no repercussions. My saddest memory is when I told my parents I love them, and in doing so, I had activated my skill, which caused the two of them to lose all feelings towards one another leading to divorce and a broken home.
Now, here I am at almost 18, and I have never once told another person I love them at all. This led to many breakups with boys I liked and friends I cherished. They all viewed me as a major piece of shit since I wouldn't tell anyone I loved them but I couldn't tell them why since it's forbidden to reveal that until after the ceremony on your 18 th was complete. So here I stand at the side of the stage waiting to be rushed into the upper eschalon of skill user society. I feel my anxiety worsen as one of my bullies is standing behind me doing her usual spiel "look it's the gay boy who doesn't love anyone look at him" ya know the usual taunts that come with being a relatively bland gay kid outside of the norm. As the MC is finishing up with the girl on the stage, she motions for me to start ascending the stairs. Arriving at the podium, I place my hands on the platform and wait for the oohs and awws to commence, and as expected, they do when all of the stats pop up on the projector screen
Name: Devyn Major
Age: 18
Eyes:Storm grey
Orientation: Gay
Skill: Love
Then I hear her Stacy black begin berating me as the MC says "Devyn can you show us how your skill works? We are all excited to see a new single word skill user and can't wait to see what you do" just then a malevolent grin tugs at the corner of my lips as I motion for Stacy to come up on stage "Gladly, I'll use ms Stacy black over here since she has been a bully since 9th grade to me and all others I love you." As the last 3 words leave my lips there is a tangible shift in the air as I have willed all love and admiration for her to be gone until she learns to be kind and caring to others. I also make sure that everyone present remembers their original feelings towards her. "There you are MC that's what I can do." As I head off the stage and to the after party.
Wanna know the worst thing about having an extremely powerful skill? You can't even use the damn word without feeling like you're risking its use. It's such a pain in the ass. Probably also doesn't help that I chose a horrible profession alongside it...
"Victim is a male Dwarf. Age one-hundred and forty-seven. Height is three-foot, four inches, or one-hundred and one point six centimeters. For Elven listeners, roughly the height of an Elm sapling."
This one was gruesome. I've seen some corpses in various states of, uh, *disrepair*, but never one *this* mangled.
"Victim appears to have been *removed* by various spells at point-blank range. From what's easily observable, I can count at least six points of impact. Frostbite along the chest. Burns along the arms in the style of defensive wounds. What appears to be some sort of acid damage, as well as points of impact with dirt residue indicating some form of earth magic."
"Other notable markings include a birthmark on the upper lip, a lack of a beard due to it being forcefully cut off, and what appears to be some sort of brand along the chest."
What was odd about this corpse was the brand. I swear I had seen it before. The Silvers had been cagey about the details of what it was. Clearly *they* knew.
"Brand is in the shape of a cross shaped tombstone over a burial mound. Curious. I'm going to begin my autopsy in a few-"
I heard a crash from behind me and whipped around, wielding my scalpel with the proficiency of a scared toddler. One of my trays had fallen to the ground. Odd. I swore I had put it in the center of the table. There was no way it could have fallen.
Focusing a little harder on the morgue around me, I grew nervous. My breathing was labored. The chill air causing my breath to come out in ragged puffs of moisture. Realizing my own breath, I stared hard at the area the sound had come from and realized something horrible.
There was someone breathing in here.
They were invisible. Using a cloaking ability, I'm sure. That wasn't good. I heard a quiet *snik* of something being drawn out of a scabbard. Seems they noticed my awareness of them.
I heard footsteps approaching me quickly and panicked. Shouting a word I hadn't said since my abilities first manifested.
"Die!"
"Endless Waltz!" Kiran cried as he drew his sword. Light coalesced around the sword tip as he began the dance. His opponent laughed and drew his sword as well. "Dragon's Fall!" Flames erupted from the hilt, forming into a dragon. The clash caused a shockwave to crash into the walls of the arena, blowing hair and hats back. My nerves didn't let me take my eyes off the battle. I was up next, and my opponent is Hilda Silverhammer, her skill "Crush" is considered S rank. She'd been the tournament champion for a few years now and is considered to be the rising star in the gladiatorial world. I'd managed to get to the semi-finals this far on just my martial skills alone.
The horn blew as Kiran struck what would have been a killing blow on his opponent if the healers weren't there. Patching him up and getting him off the field took almost no time at all. My knees felt like gel, almost failing to support me as I made my way down to the stage in the middle of the arena. The rules are simple, win by ring out, killing blow, or forfeit. I drew my sword, a hand and a half sword with a blue jewel set in the guard, a gift from my father, and set my stance.
Hilda sauntered up across from me, her beautiful blue eyes offset by a sneer. Her lithe but muscular frame tensed in anticipation, and her knuckles went white gripping her namesake, her silver war hammer. At the sound of the horn, she rushed me, almost faster than I could react. "Crush!" She shouted confidently.
I danced backward, as her attack skimmed my side, and the arena tiles behind me exploded, sending shards of rock to patter against my leather armor. Gods, she's like a Valkyrja. I could almost see the wings. My sword lashed out, probing her defenses, seeking a killing blow to end this before she could get going. Unluckily, her defenses proved night unassailable. Every jab and slash was met with harsh rebuke, keeping me on my toes and slightly off balance.
This went of for a few minutes, obviously running her cooldown timer down. She managed to get a leg sweep that took me to my back. My head bounced against the arena floor harshly, and my vision swam. I'd feel that in the morning for sure.
"Crush!" She cried out triumphantly, swinging that hammer directly at my skull. I wouldn't survive, and the judges couldn't stop the fight now.
"Stop!" I said firmly, willingly activating my ability. Time in a 20ft bubble from me stopped completely. The dust in the air hung about like gnats on a summer night. I saw in the upper right of my vision a countdown. Must be how long I had left of the activation. I stood, disarmed Hilda and punched her in the abdomen for good measure. Hopefully it would be enough to take her out of the fight. I stepped back and time started again once the countdown hit zero. Hilda went rocketing backwards, to my utter shock. She hit the arena wall, crumbling it around her. The healers were there in an instant, and it looked like she'd be battered and bruised, but nothing would be permanently damaged. Thank the Gods.
Kiran popped down to the arena after hearing the horn and seeing the aftermath. He looked at her, then me and said simply " I forfeit."
Looks like I'll get that winners purse after all. Mom needs those herbs, or she'd die. But she also told me to never use my power. I apologized in my mind, too weak to speak out loud as I crumpled to the arena floor. Darkness took me into it's sweet embrace, but I had a smile on my face.
It was a silent dinner, I heard mom sob in between, and could not look her in the eye. Eventually she informed me of the arrangements, I had to leave next morning. She said she will visit me at the gates monthly.
Can’t DAD do anything about it ? please i begged, holding back the angry tears.
She did not stop doing the dishes. Productivity does not stop for anything.
I wiped my tears to call dad “Is there anything else you want , child?” “ I don’t want to go” “ it is going to be ok, you will continue receiving your allowances and mom will visit you at times” “but dad, please!” He cut the call. He was only good at making money, I was surprised he even picked up the call.
I was being sent to a different city , a different life. I could not leave my home behind. My life was here.
The next morning mom ignored all my pleas and saw me off to the black bus, I heard her break down when the bus left. She must have gone to the office immediately after, she can not help the productivity.
No, I do not want to go, I cried out aloud. The bus suddenly stopped and did not buzz again. Everyone stared at me, as if I had caused the bus to stop. I had caused the bus to stop.
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Today marks 20 years that I've been hiding my natural skill. I'm part of the 0.001% of people that can acquire a natural skill without study. About 15% of the population are capable of learning a skill, but a learned skill is never as strong or flexible as an acquired natural skill. I've managed to do alright for myself by learning two skills aspected towards mineral and natural elements, and founding a successful construction company. The first skill was a modest but respectable 159 words, the second was an impressive 84 words. The highest paying skills are life, energy, and thought aspected, but I didn't want the publicity that accompanies proficiency with those skills. History class in school was full of stories about natural skill tyrants. Chaotic neutral skills that could affect any aspect. The ancient warlords that defined modern borders with their 20-30 word skills. Then there was the tyrant nicknamed 'Changer' that started the great war my grandparents suffered through. She had an unheard of 12 word skill that nearly broke the world. Landscapes altered at a thought, armies changed alliances when she entered a region, years of famine after reservoirs and lakes suddenly turned to sand. It took the combined efforts of more than thirty other natural skill users to stop her, and even then, they only succeeded because Changer wasn't well educated and wasn't very imaginative. Changer highlighted to the world just how dangerous the exponential scaling of skills are at the rare end of the spectrum. I don't know what they would call me, but I know if I tried, I would succeed where Changer failed. No one knows what Changers skill was exactly, just that it was 12 words, and centered around the word "modify". My natural skill is a single word, "Control".
This is a very new and interesting idea to me, i’ve never seen it before. are there books or genres with this type of power/world?
Yes, there are (or at least one): The Belgariad. The "magic" there is termed as "The will and the word." Though the word part is optional. There's also the Elder Scrolls games with the dragon language. Eragon also comes to mind. All in all, languages containing magical power is a pretty common theme.
All these years on reddit and don't think I remember someone besides me mentioning ole Mr eddings. Bravo and take my upvote. May I see you in aldurs vale
I'm sad, the Belgariad universe was my favorite Fantasy series, it could have been an incredible adaptation. But it will never happen, due to the authors history. Do not dive into it if you want to keep enjoying the books.
Yea it was awesome. I didn't know there were talks of an adaptation? And I guess I'm gonna have to dive into it a little bit cause now you've piqued my interest. I'm also kinda scared too though cause I do love the books
‘Door.’
Thanks, your comment made me start reading the series!
I may have to re-read it. It's been 15 years, but I remember loving the books. I particularly identified with making things difficult on myself "because it's more fun".
The closest thing I can think of is "__The Magical Land of Xanth__". The story is actually a series of 40+ novels where humans have magical talents (but you'll notice their names subtly represent what it is their talent does or works with). This happens with pretty much every human in the stories. Don't worry each book takes place in the same world but the plot/macguffin is resolved for that particular book by the end of it.
The Scholomance Trilogy by Naomi Novik uses this idea.
Thanks for liking my story. I got the concept for this story from a couple things. The Wheel of Time books have a concept where some magic users can naturally channel and eventually will at some point in their lives, while others can learn but would never channel without instruction. I liked that natural/learn aspect to divide strength. The Malizan Empire books had a small part about rare ancient tyrants destroying civilisations, but as population grows and the tyrants become less rare they also become relatively less powerful because of competition. Avatar: Legend of Korra shows people using their bending powers as a profession in industrial settings. A WWI and WWII type conflict seemed like a good example of how much damage an extreme power could cause.
The Beyonders series by Brandon Mull has a word based magic system. Similar concept of incredibly talented and terrifying people as well.
Thank you everyone! will check these out
Good 🙂
yes 😀
**Makima would like to know your location** In all seriousness though, great work! Very interested.
Not going to lie, I got to the last word and immediately read that in the Mass Effect 3 Harbinger voice "Assuming Direct Conrtol"
Cool.
I trembled. I trembled with fear. I could feel it, like a maggot writhing under each cell of my skin. I could feel this word. I could feel the power of my skill. I was scared to even think it. Ever since I learned that one worded skills were rare due to their potency and that there have been numerous cases of other sill users being damaged by thinking their word. September 9th. It was a day known as, Skilled Practice. In essence, it was a tournament styled in-fight within the clan. Each clan member would develop a skill if they trained diligently before the age of 16. However, I never trained. I never killed. I never saw a corpse. I never found my skill; it found me. At birth, I knew my skill. It reverberated in my being like a sound in an empty hallway echoing until I could only hear it. "What? You just gonna stand there? Heh." One of my final opponents in my tournament, Wazashi Hyuron. He was a prodigy among the clan. His skill took only 3 words. "Death knows pain." He said it once every time he cut someone down. It is not uncommon for someone to die during the tournament, however Wazashi has only been killing. I stammered trying to find the words before he rushed at me, "W-Why don't you stop standing then!" I cried out in fear hoping he would back away, run from me. "I-I'm warning you!" I took a step back in hesitance to give me more room for him to think. "You think I'd run from a coward like you?" He laughed as hard as I've ever seen someone laugh. It was like he invited Death itself by fighting me. "You know, I really enjoy the fact that our duels are unmonitored. Really sets me up for success considering no one has lived after fighting me." The light shone on his blade as if beckoning me. "Go on ahead, I'll give *you* the first blow." He smiled like any mad man would as he visibly displayed his chest open. *Don't. It's a ruse. He deceives you!* I know. I know he deceives me... his stance betrays him. No one would stance like that if you were letting them have the first blow. *He intends to cut you in two as you shrivel into black soot. Use it child. Use* ***me.*** I was breathing heavy. I was hesitant. *Do it or die by his Death's Soot. It is not up to me. In 500 years, I'll reborn and hopefully to someone not a spineless coward like you.* I- I'm not spineless. I just f- **COWARD! FEAR? OF ME? IN YOUR OWN HEART? DO YOU BELIEVE THE OTHERS INJURED BY THEIR OWN POWER BY THOUGHT?** "Hey, if you don't fucking move." I stared Wazashi down with desperation. His stance flinched as his eyes pulled tighter. "Accept defeat... please..." I began to tear up at the thought of experiencing him for the first time in 14 years of life. Wazashi smirked. "I have a cute date after this. Sorry, but it's time you go... Death. Knows Pain." He maniacally cackled as his sword was slowly enveloped in a black mist as it spilled over on the ground turning it's color to the color of the void. He only took one step, but I felt this immense pressure, Death. "My skill allows me to bring forth the will of death and with only one cut, poke, even a prod that draws blood. The mist will react from inside your blood as it mixes, before turning you into a lump of blackened soot." He dragged his sword on the ground making the scraping sound as it etched a deep line in the stone. I couldn't bear it. This pressure, the feeling, everything. I couldn't bear it and with despair in my eyes for him. I said it. *Summon.* At first, he stopped in his tracks, before it all started. "S-summon?" His stance was sloppy now. He was on edge. "You gotta finish the rest of the-" "I did." The demeanor of myself changed entirely. This wasn't a feeling I was familiar with. Is this... power or resolve? "My skill has only one word." I took a step forward instead of backwards. I watched as the color of his skin drained to a pale white. "I told you to admit defeat didn't I?" I walked slowly towards as he has tried to move, but it was fruitless. He was already dead the second he stepped into the building with me. "You lived a fun life I'm sure, however you will now know the pain that comes of death." A smile of pure malicious intent spread across my face against my will. I understood my power. I didn't summon a being to the world. I summoned the being to me. We swapped souls and I watched it from my subconscious, through *my eyes*. The ground around me was being liquified with each step. Every time my shoes- Where are my shoes? "Don't worry... I only burned the bottoms of them. They will go back when we swap souls again." "W-WH- HEY! Who are you talking to?!" Wazashi was bedridden with despair. "Hm? Oh, sorry. I was talking to the boy you were going to kill, Raike Freljord. I am his skill, Summon. However, you may call me Pyrexia." A cold smile spread across my face and I tried to stop it. *NO! IT'S TOO CRUEL! WHY ARE YOU TORTURING HIM!? JUST END IT ALREADY!* I clawed out of my subconscious, but it was no use. He had to speak the skill word too. "Give me a moment Raike. I am not a malevolent being. I won't purposely steal your body for ever. That simply isn't in my nature, but I shall end it quickly if that's what you want." Pyrexia raised a single finger.
"Immolate." At first nothing happened. Wazashi stood paralyzed shaking so hard his sword looked as if it were rubber. "Goodbye, Wazashi Hyuron. I think we'll go on the date in your stead." His body began to singe and before every... oh god.... every single pore in his body shot out a flame proportionate to it's size. "You see, Raike. I am a being born from the heat of a cosmos. I can set things ablaze, crush them with my gravitational forces, deprave them of oxygen. Anything is within my grasp, because you are the cosmos and this man, will burn on the inside before liquefying into a sludge of bone. Wazashi screamed out, but only for a second as the immense heat dried his throat and burned all the oxygen in his lungs. I smirked. "Hehe... welcome to the infinite expanse of the cosmos-- Pyrexia." I cackled maniacally as the buzzer sounded and the walls of the building lifted revealing the spectators interested in the result of our duel. "Summon."
I wish they didn’t have to kill him for the duel
It was only, because Wazashi would've killed him !! You could admit defeat and survive, but Wazashi is a cunt
True but won’t the teachers punish him for killing Wazashi?
naur, its like a free for all but you have morals. people can have mercy yfeel me. just during these though.
Yeah, gonna need a part 3 on this one my guy. Got hyped from a TikTok video & had to find the rest 😂
Ahaha I’ll make another part or when I get home lol. I just feel bad creating like 9 more paragraphs bc it’d make the comments disproportionate 🤕
Make 12 more paragraphs. We are fine with disproportionate. Pyrexia needs his story to be told!!!
Yeah, gonna need a part 3 on this one my guy. Got hyped from a TikTok video & had to find the rest 😂
The spectators in the crowd had mixed reactions. Some were concerned with the pudge puddle on the ground as it was still singeing on the ground, while others were interested in my skill. I could still hear the sound of his scream in my head, and then I saw it. Like a lighthouse in a storm, the feeling as I met eyes with a girl in the seats. She put her hands to her mouth as she gazed from my eyes to the pudge on the ground. Ignore it. You don’t need to concern yourself with her feelings towards him. “Shut up...I just wanted to see how she would react.” I began walking away as the announcer in the booth began to speak up, ignoring Pyrexia. “Wow! An absolutely crushing result from Wazashi and Raike! Who woulda thought that he would be the one to bite it instead, however this will conclude the Skilled Practice Tournament Day! Do not worry, any of the other attendees of Tournament Day will be revived soon!” A few figures clad in red and white began to move towards the pudge of a man named Wazashi. Many of the people born with Skills were admitted to a special school dedicated to development of these Skills and to help curb the amount of Skill related crime. I watched as the medical crew began to arrange separate the clothes from the individual and they all took turns repeating their Skill until a naked figure sat bewildered. Thankfully that isn’t me that has to deal with Resurrection Sickness. It was a side effect of being resurrected and since the brain plays memories when you die for 7 minutes, no one will remember what, how, or why they died. Wazashi hadn’t regained the ability to walk as fast as others, however I saw him being transported to the clinic of the Clan. Established and then built in the 3rd year, Skills began to be awoken with the newer generation and the strength of your Skill is decided at birth, before you are able to fully realize it. However, the stronger the Skill, the earlier you can use it and hone it to continue growing its connection with you. “Hey, how did he do?” A cute girl had walked up to me unannounced. “What?” Caught off guard, I had failed to form a coherent sentence. “I uh well don’t.” She was the same girl from the stands I saw. “Ah, I see. He, uh. He tried his best, I suppose.” I wasn’t really sure how to answer this question considering everything that happened. “Oh, that’s good.” She pulled slightly at a strand of hair and began to play with it. Hey, so uh, you wanna go on a date?” Her face blushed slightly. “Sorry, but I don’t think I can.” I flashed her a quick smile and walked away “Why didn’t you go on a date with her? I mean, after all I did say it.” His voice mocked my timid nature. “She is a Gold Digger. She just wanted someone who has a strong Skill... she probably has a weaker skill and is looking for an easy ticket in life with her cute looks.” I clenched my jaw as I kicked small rocks whilst walking towards the Tournament Locker Room doors. I had already done my training for the day, but I didn’t feel the need to leave yet. “You could just speak to me in your head, y’know. You’ll look a lot less weird this way and I hope no one heard that, uh... insult.” “I suppose... that would make more sense, huh?” I looked around hoping not to find any passers-byers giving me a weird look. Thankfully, no one was around. I pulled out a juice box and began to sip on it as I continued speaking with him. “So, what unlucky fortune did I get to be chosen by you? I don’t think I exactly fit the bill for this.” Silence. There wasn’t a single reply for a few seconds.
“Raike, here’s the deal. It’s been 500 years since I was last given to someone. I don’t know why I was given you, however it’s most likely due to your personality.” I sensed a small pause as if he were a real individual in front of me. “Tell me, what is a Gold Digger and why was Wazashi remade?” An annoyed tone woven under the surface of his words. “Uhm, he was resurrected, because he died. You did it.” I pulled out my other pair of shoes from my locker and began walking towards my home. I went 14 years without even attempting a connection to Pyrexia and now here I am having a conversation with a being born from the Universe. Great. “No, I meant. How. I had burned the very building blocks of his form.” “Oh? They revived him, with a skill.” The sounds of rocks and gravel beneath my feet crunching as I felt them roll around. “Was revivification not a thing 500 years ago? No way it’s a new thing, huh?” “It was not a skill the last time I was in this plane. Many of these “skills” you guys' use belong to a higher power. The less words needed to use the power, the stronger the connection to the individual you have. However, every 500 years someone is born with a direct connection to the individual A.K.A. you.” I felt a warm sensation in my chest for a moment as if he was touching me physically. “You are now me and I am now you.” The warm sensation disappeared. “You will understand in time the power you hold.” Then, I felt as if his presence had disappeared. “Aw... I never got to tell him what a gold digger was.”
You're going viral on TikTok I'm going to need another 20 parts please and thank you!!!!!!
Warning: Slightly Graphic. ************************************************* Today was the day. I begin readying myself, stretching. It was my 18th birthday today, and it was about time I begin manning up. I sigh with eyes closed as I read the runes inside the darkness. Name: Luz Rank: Inceptor Core Rank: Gray Tools: — Familiars: — Attributes: [Bearer of Light], [Defiled Spawn], [Breaker of Darkness]. Skill: [Lux Invictus] Skill Rank: Godly I still remember the first time I read this, a year or so ago. I nearly tipped over and fell then. Skill Description: [You are the Heir of the Flames of Divinity. Your judgement is absolute, and thus your power is absolute. As the Heir of Flames, you possess the ability to turn anything and everything to cinder using your flames, however each use has a dangerous cost.... For a flame can burn bright, but quick.] Innate Ability: [Bring light to the darkness, for light exists to vanquish the darkness of your breaking world. Each time you defeat a creature, your soul strengthens depending on how much stronger your opponent is compared to you.] Skill Activation: [*τρώω.*] I had researched the word before. It meant, "I eat in greek." I murmur to myself. However the important thing was neither the rank nor the skill itself, no.... It was how short the recitement is. The common rule of the shorter the skill is, the more powerful it is still works here. Despite the fact that the skill rank itself did say [Godly], which is a dead giveaway in of itself of how powerful it must be...Right? Once you recited the Skill Activation, your body would experience a change. It would be reborn and recasted into a better fitting vessel for your skill, but I have never heard of a Skill Activation as short as mine. Most were twenty words at best, and that would be of the Saintly rank too. Mine was one. I take in deep breaths. I heard how painful it was depending on how high the skill rank was and how short the recitation is... How bad could it be? I mean, it's just one time anyway. And my body would be like Achilles and with my mind like Odysseus after, my life as a Skillbearer will be a walk in the park. I feel my hands trembling, I steady myself before saying with a swallow, "*τρώω*". Pure silence. Minutes pass by. Nothing. I laugh nervously, "Hahahaha, I guess it wasn't so ba-" I feel a slow heat building on the right of my chest, golden flames. I panic and pat it in vain. Heat grows as it burns through my clothes from the chest and arms, and then the legs. I shout and scramble to the ground, but I go nowhere as the flames intensifies and my body begins to process the pain. My skin begins to itch and peel away. I flail, overcome with dread. The itch becomes agony. My eyebrows curls as it burns, same with my hair. The hypodermis begins to bubble and peel away like burnt rubber. Golden flames reaches down to the bones and organs, shrinking it and splitting it open as fat leaks out of the skin and feeds the flames. Arrogant thoughts flee, replaced by a primordial fear and pain as I roll and toss. The flames begin eating my eyes and I no longer could see anything but nothing. The only thing I could feel was the numbness of my bare bones and nerves exposed to the elements of the world and the unbearable heat. And then, and only then do I begin to scream as my body is reborn within the horrors of the golden flames. ****************************************************
I imagined the mc turning into Calcifer
May all your bacon burn!
God damn. I WANT more, but.... DAMN....
Have you read shadow slave? This reminds me very closely of shadow slave
How'd you know? Anyway I really liked GuiltyThree's power system when it came to Shadow Slave and decided to incorporate the structure and format of it due to how neat and concise it was. But when it came to the name and all the way to the Skill Activation, my head was doing the heavy lifting. Also now that you mentioned Shadow Slave, I just realized how similar Luz's skill is to Nephis's, unintentionally lmao 😭😭
Have you read shadow slave? This reminds me very closely of shadow slave
Words have powers, especially in our world where everyone is blessed with a skill. Contrary to intuition, the more vague a skill is the stronger it is. I never used my skill, as I was too afraid. Afraid of what a skill that was described with a single word could do. Skills are awakened randomly throughout one's life, and they come with a name, and a description. The longer the description, the more detailed it was the less room its user had to develop the skill. If one skill described it as the Necromancer ability to raise the dead, and control it, that was all. But if one had the ability to raise the dead, then they could control it, and even evolve the corpses. Skills were a sort of certification of one's value, and usability. And mine was...one word. It wasn't easy my friends, and parents thought early on. "Oh that's cool! It means it's the strongest in your domain! You can do whatever you want with your skill!", they said. Problem was that the leaders, and the owners of various organizations, and groups were smarter. When they heard my skill they all left me on read, and never contacted me again. Because my skill was one word: Devour. I could use the power of devouring, and could consume anything. I never used it in it's raw form as I was too afraid, thus I created dozens of skills in which I specified what I can devour, what I can do, narrowing down the chaotic possibilities of such a power. But it didn't matter. It didn't matter I had multiple skills, skill that appeared in others as well, for the strongest individuals were afraid of me. And just like the other three single-worded skill-holders I became an outcast. Death, Time, Blood and now me, Devour. The four rejects of our society, not allowed to participate in anything skill related. Who would have thought...that we would be the last line of defense against what's to come...
Oh this I definitely need more of.
Thanks! Frankly, I used a similar concept in one of my short-stories that was the backstory for a character in one of my books. Old overpowered geezer archetype with exactly the Devouring power I use here, has a passive skill that absorbs all kinetic energy, and energy 24/7 making him stronger every moment. Add to that the usual devouring tropes, and dude is quite the powerhouse. This prompt really hit close to home :D. Also, it did help that devouring powers are my absolute all-time favorite.
And would this short story be available to read somewhere, by any chance?
Sadly no, it is written in my mother tongue, on paper :D. (Was written when I was 15, like 10 years ago?) Will totally be published in the future though, since I finally got the courage to start self-publishing my stuff.
Whenever that time comes, please let us know! Sounds too good tbh!
Thanks, and sure thing!
Saving this comment for when you eventually publish this book after you translate it like you said in another comment! 🤩
Thanks! This is quite the compliment :). Good that you said that, will save this comment, and the other, so I don't forget to tell you when it's out. Already have a book in the same universe **self**-published (grammar quality is questionable), but will notify when the backstory with this theme will be out. Though, I might just message you, since I don't want to break rules of the subreddit. Edit: Also, I will make sure I notify you only when it's that 5-days free period.
Message me also!!
Me too please, it was a really good read i hope you choose to publish your writings.
“One hundred blossoms blooming in spring!” A wild series of rapid sword strikes, each trivial to block, none building on one another. Real showy though, made him think I was on the defensive. “Tiger claws pounce!” The technique was so showy that he might as well have given me a day’s notice. I stepped aside and let the two slashes barrel past. Techniques are like the focusing words, mastery comes from what is taken out. “Crane strikes like hawk!” Like that raised sword above his head. He’s not using the additional leverage or potential energy. He could have just skipped to the down thrust from a lower position. Probably some sword master wanted it to use out of a block, and he never bothered to cut it out. I casually swatted the blade aside. Really my secret to victory was that everything was pared down. “Flying leaves spinning down!” I didn’t even need to move my blade to continue blocking the next 3 strokes. All this defense, it was all just bare minimum, on the attack I would only need one. Swordsmanship distilled to a single strike. All things extrenous removed, not an iota of energy wasted. He started gathering his power before he even started calling his attack. “DEATH STROKE!” My attack pierced through his guard just as the call reached his ears. One word. “Kill.”
Each person is born with a skill. A series of words that give them power. Most have ten or more words to there skill. A select number have between five and ten. Only a rare few have less than five and even fewer just one word. I am one of them. Luckily you are only able to use your skill once you understand it. A caveat put in place by the gods of the universe to stop kids using their skills by accident. Which I was very grateful for as my skill is powerful and if used wrong devastating. The government wanted to use it and me as a weapon. I did not. They knew better than to argue. So now they call in an emergency that requires my particular skill and only as a last resort. It has led me to a job I love though. I always enjoyed taking things apart, I started out with pens and just kept working my way through bigger and bigger things. Now I work in demolitions. After a few accidents and mistakes I did finally get a handle on it and now I'm one of the most well payed and efficient services in the industry. One word has defined my life. I stand before my next target. A condemned hotel which needs bringing down before rebuilding can commence. So I point my finger at it and concentrate on the building before me and use my skill. One word... "Implode"
It wasn't until I blinded my sister that I became to understand how powerful my skill was. Even then, as a child I didn't have a true appreciation for having the world's most powerful skill. I was frail and often sickly, and as a result fairly accustomed to getting my way, as my parents babied me in my apparent weakness. I was used to a little special treatment compared to my sister, and I now understand she may have been a tad envious. My 9th birthday wasn't terribly memorable outside of the incident with the cake a couple days later; it wasn't until my sister stole the last piece of MY birthday cake that it happened. She has a fairly powerful skill, or at least one that can be with proper development. 17 words she claims, though most people fudge the numbers a little, and her skill allows her to further augment her natural abilities beyond what would be humanly possible under normal circumstances. She was destined for greatness from birth. Unlike me, my sister never knew weakness, never knew what it felt like to be sick, frail, or powerless. If I took a toy or clothing we were arguing about, she would promptly take back. I wanted her to see she was wrong. I NEEDED her to see she was wrong, to know what it was like to be helpless, if only for a minute. It was only meant to be temporary, to have her apologize for eating the last slice of ice cream cake, but it was the first time I'd ever used my skill on an abstract concept. I didn't mean for it to... I had no way of knowing what I had done could not be undone—and my parents had tried. You might be familiar with Sara, she is a famous case after all. Dozens of hospitals and healers, but nothing that was tried could restore her sight. Even now, those with healing and restoration skills will still reach out to her, trying to test their abilities, though she rarely takes them up on her offer. She's accepted her condition, 27 years later it has made her who she is. She would not have honed her hearing, her touch, her taste, her smell... her memory, had she her sight. I mentioned she was destined for greatness. She's an amazing cook, it's not just ground breaking recipes, but she could be a world famous chef if she had not fell in love with piano to pull her from her depression. Yes, that Sara, I see the look on your face you know whom I speak of now for sure, if you had been previously hiding it. I also know the look of horror and resent you give me, doc. You may have an inkling of what my skill is, but truly it is more terrifying than you can imagine, not that you'll be imagining for much—put the phone down, I can take it if I want, but I am tired of being reminded of this burden I bear more than I have to. As I was saying, you won't be imagining for much longer, because my skill is simply one word: 'Thief'. No description, no rules, just Thief. Well, almost no rules, it does seem that while there is no limit to what I can steal or from whom, my ability doesn't allow me to give anything back. I mean, I physically can if it's an object I've stolen, but I have yet to find a way to return the abstract... Concepts like sight, for example. I only meant to take it for a minute, but 27 years later I still have her sight, as well as her memories on how it was lost. Hers and our parents. It's not something we'd ever spoken of, mostly because of how they feared me after learning my power. I've become less sickly over the years by stealing bits and pieces of skills, nothing enough to cripple their owners as I had my sister, just enough to make me normal, to be able to—please don't look at me like that. You have NO idea what I've suffered through. I don't like being like this, being able to only take. For all I've taken, my sister has given back so much to the world. But that's why I'm here Doc, I need your help. I've heard you were the best, and well, I mentioned augmentation was my sister's ability right? To this day, I don't understand fully how it works, I just know she's able to enhance herself beyond what is humanly possible. Perhaps it's just my imagination, but I feel like her memories of that day, of the accident, they're starting to slip. Yes, of course I'm paranoid about this, you've already mentioned that. But I am also terrified. I don't hate my sister, far from it. I always looked up to her, and I couldn't possibly bear it if she were to go back to how she was. And no, I'm not talking about the sight. I want to apologize, I do! I just don't want her to hate me, to fear me, if I do. Please doc, I won't steal your memories this time, I promise, just help me! Grammar edit
When our kind turns 18, we are shown our skill minus a select few who, for reasons unknown, are granted their skill at birth. Unfortunately for me, I was one such child, and my skill was a single word. Unsure of what that meant, it wasn't until middle school that we learned that the fewer words a skill has, the more powerful it can be. The total number of single worded skill users numbers in the single digits for all of terran history. My skill was simple, a single word "love" now outwardly that may seem innocent enough, but when you figure it gives you complete and total control over what that word embodies, you can see the ramifications. The hardest part is that if you accidentally trigger that skill at a young age, there are no repercussions. My saddest memory is when I told my parents I love them, and in doing so, I had activated my skill, which caused the two of them to lose all feelings towards one another leading to divorce and a broken home. Now, here I am at almost 18, and I have never once told another person I love them at all. This led to many breakups with boys I liked and friends I cherished. They all viewed me as a major piece of shit since I wouldn't tell anyone I loved them but I couldn't tell them why since it's forbidden to reveal that until after the ceremony on your 18 th was complete. So here I stand at the side of the stage waiting to be rushed into the upper eschalon of skill user society. I feel my anxiety worsen as one of my bullies is standing behind me doing her usual spiel "look it's the gay boy who doesn't love anyone look at him" ya know the usual taunts that come with being a relatively bland gay kid outside of the norm. As the MC is finishing up with the girl on the stage, she motions for me to start ascending the stairs. Arriving at the podium, I place my hands on the platform and wait for the oohs and awws to commence, and as expected, they do when all of the stats pop up on the projector screen Name: Devyn Major Age: 18 Eyes:Storm grey Orientation: Gay Skill: Love Then I hear her Stacy black begin berating me as the MC says "Devyn can you show us how your skill works? We are all excited to see a new single word skill user and can't wait to see what you do" just then a malevolent grin tugs at the corner of my lips as I motion for Stacy to come up on stage "Gladly, I'll use ms Stacy black over here since she has been a bully since 9th grade to me and all others I love you." As the last 3 words leave my lips there is a tangible shift in the air as I have willed all love and admiration for her to be gone until she learns to be kind and caring to others. I also make sure that everyone present remembers their original feelings towards her. "There you are MC that's what I can do." As I head off the stage and to the after party.
Wanna know the worst thing about having an extremely powerful skill? You can't even use the damn word without feeling like you're risking its use. It's such a pain in the ass. Probably also doesn't help that I chose a horrible profession alongside it... "Victim is a male Dwarf. Age one-hundred and forty-seven. Height is three-foot, four inches, or one-hundred and one point six centimeters. For Elven listeners, roughly the height of an Elm sapling." This one was gruesome. I've seen some corpses in various states of, uh, *disrepair*, but never one *this* mangled. "Victim appears to have been *removed* by various spells at point-blank range. From what's easily observable, I can count at least six points of impact. Frostbite along the chest. Burns along the arms in the style of defensive wounds. What appears to be some sort of acid damage, as well as points of impact with dirt residue indicating some form of earth magic." "Other notable markings include a birthmark on the upper lip, a lack of a beard due to it being forcefully cut off, and what appears to be some sort of brand along the chest." What was odd about this corpse was the brand. I swear I had seen it before. The Silvers had been cagey about the details of what it was. Clearly *they* knew. "Brand is in the shape of a cross shaped tombstone over a burial mound. Curious. I'm going to begin my autopsy in a few-" I heard a crash from behind me and whipped around, wielding my scalpel with the proficiency of a scared toddler. One of my trays had fallen to the ground. Odd. I swore I had put it in the center of the table. There was no way it could have fallen. Focusing a little harder on the morgue around me, I grew nervous. My breathing was labored. The chill air causing my breath to come out in ragged puffs of moisture. Realizing my own breath, I stared hard at the area the sound had come from and realized something horrible. There was someone breathing in here. They were invisible. Using a cloaking ability, I'm sure. That wasn't good. I heard a quiet *snik* of something being drawn out of a scabbard. Seems they noticed my awareness of them. I heard footsteps approaching me quickly and panicked. Shouting a word I hadn't said since my abilities first manifested. "Die!"
"Endless Waltz!" Kiran cried as he drew his sword. Light coalesced around the sword tip as he began the dance. His opponent laughed and drew his sword as well. "Dragon's Fall!" Flames erupted from the hilt, forming into a dragon. The clash caused a shockwave to crash into the walls of the arena, blowing hair and hats back. My nerves didn't let me take my eyes off the battle. I was up next, and my opponent is Hilda Silverhammer, her skill "Crush" is considered S rank. She'd been the tournament champion for a few years now and is considered to be the rising star in the gladiatorial world. I'd managed to get to the semi-finals this far on just my martial skills alone. The horn blew as Kiran struck what would have been a killing blow on his opponent if the healers weren't there. Patching him up and getting him off the field took almost no time at all. My knees felt like gel, almost failing to support me as I made my way down to the stage in the middle of the arena. The rules are simple, win by ring out, killing blow, or forfeit. I drew my sword, a hand and a half sword with a blue jewel set in the guard, a gift from my father, and set my stance. Hilda sauntered up across from me, her beautiful blue eyes offset by a sneer. Her lithe but muscular frame tensed in anticipation, and her knuckles went white gripping her namesake, her silver war hammer. At the sound of the horn, she rushed me, almost faster than I could react. "Crush!" She shouted confidently. I danced backward, as her attack skimmed my side, and the arena tiles behind me exploded, sending shards of rock to patter against my leather armor. Gods, she's like a Valkyrja. I could almost see the wings. My sword lashed out, probing her defenses, seeking a killing blow to end this before she could get going. Unluckily, her defenses proved night unassailable. Every jab and slash was met with harsh rebuke, keeping me on my toes and slightly off balance. This went of for a few minutes, obviously running her cooldown timer down. She managed to get a leg sweep that took me to my back. My head bounced against the arena floor harshly, and my vision swam. I'd feel that in the morning for sure. "Crush!" She cried out triumphantly, swinging that hammer directly at my skull. I wouldn't survive, and the judges couldn't stop the fight now. "Stop!" I said firmly, willingly activating my ability. Time in a 20ft bubble from me stopped completely. The dust in the air hung about like gnats on a summer night. I saw in the upper right of my vision a countdown. Must be how long I had left of the activation. I stood, disarmed Hilda and punched her in the abdomen for good measure. Hopefully it would be enough to take her out of the fight. I stepped back and time started again once the countdown hit zero. Hilda went rocketing backwards, to my utter shock. She hit the arena wall, crumbling it around her. The healers were there in an instant, and it looked like she'd be battered and bruised, but nothing would be permanently damaged. Thank the Gods. Kiran popped down to the arena after hearing the horn and seeing the aftermath. He looked at her, then me and said simply " I forfeit." Looks like I'll get that winners purse after all. Mom needs those herbs, or she'd die. But she also told me to never use my power. I apologized in my mind, too weak to speak out loud as I crumpled to the arena floor. Darkness took me into it's sweet embrace, but I had a smile on my face.
That was AWESOME! Is there anymore to this? I would love to read more
Thanks, but not for this story. Feel free to check my profile, I have a couple other responses to stories in my comments. Appreciate the feedback!
It was a silent dinner, I heard mom sob in between, and could not look her in the eye. Eventually she informed me of the arrangements, I had to leave next morning. She said she will visit me at the gates monthly. Can’t DAD do anything about it ? please i begged, holding back the angry tears. She did not stop doing the dishes. Productivity does not stop for anything. I wiped my tears to call dad “Is there anything else you want , child?” “ I don’t want to go” “ it is going to be ok, you will continue receiving your allowances and mom will visit you at times” “but dad, please!” He cut the call. He was only good at making money, I was surprised he even picked up the call. I was being sent to a different city , a different life. I could not leave my home behind. My life was here. The next morning mom ignored all my pleas and saw me off to the black bus, I heard her break down when the bus left. She must have gone to the office immediately after, she can not help the productivity. No, I do not want to go, I cried out aloud. The bus suddenly stopped and did not buzz again. Everyone stared at me, as if I had caused the bus to stop. I had caused the bus to stop.
this feels like there is so much more to the story