A sigh escaped Ralf. Slumped over his desk, the youth’s soft face pressed against the smooth hardwood. A gloomy cloud shrouded the thirteen-year-old. Thinking of what he could be up to instead of being cooped up in his room left him depressed.

‘Mom’s too much, really.

The flame in my heart can’t be confined like this…it’ll die out.’

He released another sigh. Ralf was an adventurous spirit. He was always on the move, always searching for the interesting, the fun, and to his mother’s dismay: the dangerous. 

Only recently was Ralf out and about, adventuring with the local youths, sneaking into the not-so nearby Monster Zone and engaging in life-and-death battles with man-eating monsters. So, exciting stuff. Now, those days were behind him.

He always made sure to hide his activities from his mother, but the incident three days ago had made that impossible. After finding out, his mother, Hana, forbade him from leaving the house entirely, thus resulting in his current melancholy.

Letting out another sigh, Ralf lifted his body. His blue orbs moved in search of that which could alleviate his boredom. Various items filled the spacious room, ranging from the mundane to the interesting.

Chronicles of the True King, Caelus Bucculeius Bellus.

Arrival of the Zenki Era: From Natural to Supernatural.

The Great Scramble: Death and Chaos.

The War of the End: The Demon Invasion.

Journey of Raven Tail: Mankind's greatest heroes.

Ralf skimmed the book titles before moving on. He had already read each one multiple times and knew they wouldn't be enough to satisfy his current craving. In the end, his eyes stopped where they always would. 

Ralf headed to the weapon rack mounted on the western wall. Several types of wooden weapons hung from the contraption. He unhooked two short swords and made them comfortable in his palms before walking over to his usual spot and shutting his eyes. Once dark, his imagination spurred into action, and an epic scene began playing in his mind.

Transported to a bloody battlefield, Ralf brandished his swords - now silver and glowing - and unleashed a whirlwind of slashes, dispatching the foolish hordes that dared to rush his way. 

'Aha, weaklings. Die die die...' Laughter escaped Ralf as he slaughtered away.

He slashed at his imaginary foes, illustrating his peerless skill in the art of the blade - well, not quite. However, while the boy was no swordmaster, his motions and forms were well practised.

Ralf sank deep into the fantasy, moving his body with great vigour as he seamlessly flowed between offence, defence and evasion. He worked up quite a sweat in the process.

But in his frenzy.

*Tok*

“-Ah?”

An overzealous swing caused his left sword to go flying. The error caused the scene playing in his head to falter, but a second later, it was back on track.

‘I see, I see. You’re different from the rabble.’ Eyes forward, he stared at the red-eyed shadowy humanoid creature who had just disarmed him.

‘Still, be they rabble or the cream of the crop, all will fall before my power. Now, hear my name, oh foolish one. I am Ralf,’ pausing, he thrust his left hand forward and howled, ‘Fawkes!’

Fwooossshh!!!

A cone of spiralling white flames flowed from his palm. The flames didn't burn as regular flames would. Instead, the flame-like sea of white instantly destroyed everything it touched. The red-eyed creature, the monster horde at its rear, the dirt, the air, even space was left torn in the flames' wake. 

‘Not so tough now, are you? Now, for the rest of you.'

With a sword in one hand and otherworldly flames in the other, Ralf continued reaping - imaginary - lives.

***

‘He’s at it again,’ Hana thought from beyond the doorway.

She had paused her work to grab a snack. Passing through the living room and hearing her son's maniacal laughter, Hana's face collapsed into a wry smile. 

‘Ralf didn’t inherit your red hair, but that craziness…that’s all you, Robert,’ she thought, thumbing over a black-and-white picture frame depicting the man in question. 

Lingering on her late husband's handsome face for a few seconds more, Hana grabbed her snack and returned to the backyard to continue working on her project. 

***

‘C-Curse this weak body.' 

While his spirit was willing, his flesh was weak. His thirteen-year-old body's stamina reserves were closer to a pond than a pool, so a few minutes at full tilt was the best he could manage. Wet with sweat, Ralf took gulping breaths.

Seeing the monsters rushing up to finish his weakened self, he quickly opened his eyelids, returning to reality. Ralf plopped down on the bed after returning his swords to the rack. Taking deep breaths, he sank into his thoughts. Sights catching on Journey of Raven Tail: Mankind's greatest heroes, a face quickly popped into his mind.

‘I wonder if he is still here. I want to see him again.’

Ralf’s mind drifted to a memory from three days ago. 

He had just returned from Sumera Forest, the Monster Zone, where the incident had happened with Dolf’s group. Ralf roamed the streets of Kladek with his head hung low and shoulders sagged. With the Overseers getting involved, he knew that the jig was up. His mom would find out about his involvement and recent adventuring. And so, not wanting to head home and be scolded, he moved around town aimlessly, procrastinating the inevitable.

Each step was heavy for the youth. Just picturing Hana's angry face tore at him. To Ralf, it was akin to the sky collapsing. His mood was at an all-time low. But as he passed by a bench, Ralf encountered something - someone - that would clear all thought from his mind. His monochrome world shattered, and vibrant colours became known to him again.

Beautiful.

This description naturally arrived in Ralf’s mind as he captured the teenager. It took a few blinks to confirm that the other was a boy. 

The stranger had fair spotless skin that seemed as soft as mash mellows, sapphire crystals for eyes, long eyelashes, and golden locks that flowed down his delicate face like a waterfall until just below his ears. 

Ralf pegged the stranger as two or three years older than himself. The stranger's features were uncommon, and so too was his outfit. He resembled an ancient monk in his white-and-gold-themed wardrobe. The stranger exuded eloquence; his entire being seemed to let off a translucent glow. 

Ralf was instantly mesmerized. At that moment, his mother lost her number-one ranking as the most beautiful person he had ever met. He was entranced by the other's stunning appearance, though only for a few breaths. His immense pride kept him from gawking stupidly. But upon breaking out of the other's charm spell, Ralf was given pause again.

Examining the young man’s countenance, he was left lost. As sharp as he was, he couldn’t unravel the Gordian knot that was the other’s expression. The distant gaze the stranger wore swam with an indecipherable light, making his thoughts unreadable to Ralf.

Staring at him, Ralf's own troubles all but dissolved. While he was unable to decipher the stranger's thoughts, he could sense the downtrodden feelings smothering the young man. 

And so, he approached.

“A frown ruins a handsome face...that’s what my mom always says,” Ralf said, and plopped himself down on the bench, as naturally as the passing breeze.

The trance the stranger was in broke at the remark. With slightly widened eyes, he turned to the thirteen-year-old.

Ralf continued after making himself comfortable. “I agree,” he said, nodding sagely before turning to the stranger. “Brother, you’re ruining your good looks.”

The stranger quirked a brow and showed a bitter smile. “Mm, I suppose you’re right.”

Ralf nodded in agreement, then tapped the young man’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, stranger; that’s why I’m here. I’ll clear that frown away with my amazing story.”

“Amazing story, huh? Okay, fire away," the stranger said, his mood picking up. "I have a lot of time to kill, so let's hear it.”

Ralf smiled. “Buckle up. My tale of heroism is front page worthy - nay, I dare say that it's on the level of the Raven Tail chronicles."

“Oh.” The stranger’s face flickered with amusement. “You’ve set the bar high, don’t let me down.”

“Where to start? Let's start with character introduction...”

Ralf proceeded to tell his story. 

It was a retelling of his trip to the forest earlier. Needless to say, it didn’t come close to reaching the level of Raven Tail chronicles. Still, it did its job in clearing the cloud above the stranger’s head, though the stranger did take issue with the premise of the story.

"You shouldn't have done that, Ralf...and those boys shouldn't have let you come along," the stranger admonished, his face stone serious. "So reckless, so irresponsible, so..."

"Argh, spare me another lecture,' Ralf said, feigning great pain and covering his ears with both hands. "I just got back from an hour-long charring session. The Overseer in charge was molten and let us know it, extensively."

"He should be. As should anyone with a working head above their shoulders."

Monster Zones weren't child-friendly places or people-friendly places, for that matter. Rather, they were the opposite. It wasn't a place for most adults, let alone minors, who were all barred from entering. Only registered Adventurers and related identities could enter them, for to enter was to risk life, limb and psyche. 

Ralf had found - made - a workaround. After befriending Dolf, he convinced the D-Rank Adventurer to have him tag along when Dolf and his party of four went on their missions. 

The nineteen-year-old youth, too eager to show off his power, agreed to Ralf's request and snuck him in. There were security checks, but they were lax. Ralf hid in the wagon Dolf and his party always brought with them. Like this, Ralf had been able to experience the thrill of adventuring as a minor for the last three weeks.

"You and four Rank 4Telekinetics, all with a year of adventuring under their belt. Not the most balanced party around, but in Sumera Forest, it'll do. Nothing should pose any trouble if they're careful. What about you, Ralf? Something tells me you weren't content to watch the action unfold."

"Of course," Ralf replied with a grin. "That said, as a thirteen-year-old norin without a shred of physical enhancement, I can't do much on my own. That's why we arranged several things beforehand. Dolf let me lent me two things: his spare revolver and his sharpened dagger."

"Oh, how generous," the stranger commented for engagement's sake. His blue sights spotted neither weapon on Ralf's person. What he did find, though, were marks of injuries. The youth's pants and shirt had holes in them. Peeking through the torn fabric, he saw the white of bandages and couldn't help but squint. 'That's definitely fresh,' he confirmed with a sniff. 'He sure is nonchalant about them. A strange one.' Putting such thoughts aside, the stranger focused on Ralf's voice.

"When we encountered monsters, Dolf and the others would engage, and I'd find high ground and take aim."

"And you managed to land a shot?" the stranger voiced with deep scepticism.

"More than that...I landed every shot," Ralf smirked as he boasted. "In motion, monsters are a blur I could never hit in a million years, true, but when still, I always land my shots. Dolf and the others would halt the monsters' movements with telekinesis long enough for me to gun them down. Thanks to their aid, I've slayed sixteen monsters so far."

"A sharpshooter, then. Impressive; also, a wise decision. Keeping your distance is best."

"Best for safety, not for fun," Ralf countered. "Shooting is fun, and I have a knack for it, but up close and personal is way better."

"You didn't..." the stranger uttered in an incredulous voice.

"Yep, I did. Several times already. When there's only one monster left, they let me fight it one-on-one - well, not truly. Dolf and the gang fashion me a sturdy suit of Psi armour and a sharp Psi sword before sending me into battle. A bit too safe for my liking, but I can't complain."

The stranger's crinkled forehead relaxed a tad as he heard the last part. "What about mobility? Also, what about the sword? Was it entirely invisible?"

"It was not. They filled the hollow interior with enough Vanta Psi that it resembled a black blade. As for mobility, we also made arrangements. There were four buttons on the sword handle. Each button allowed me to perform a high-speed attack. From what I'm told, they smothered me in a ton of force absorption Psi to keep my body from breaking. So, very safe. Today, I faced off against a rather speedy orc. Took a minute and a dozen slashes to finish him off."

"I see," the stranger sighed as he clenched his chest; Ralf's words were bad for his heart. "Is that your heroic feat? Killing the orc?"

Ralf shook his head immediately. "Of course not. I was just setting the stage. Painting a picture of what usually happens. Usually, it would go swimmingly, but today it was anything but - well, by the end. At first, it went as usual. A dozen goblins? No problem. A handful of orcs? No problem. The problems came when we went a bit deeper than usual."

Ralf entered story-teller mode as his tone shifted from matter-of-fact to dramatic.

"A giant bird monster spotted us and let out a soul-piercing shriek. It was loud, and the entire forest seemed to spring to life at its call. Not a second later, a rumble. Out of the sea of trees, dozens of monsters came charging, eyes widened and frothing at the mouths. Goblins, orcs, ogres and that bird monster, as one, like a tsunami. That's when things got problematic."

"I can imagine," the stranger said, eyeing Ralf with an odd look. "I had you pegged as unordinary from the get-go, but Ralf, you're awfully calm for someone who just experienced this nightmare-like scenario."

"What can I say; I'm made of different stuff." Ralf's nose pointed to the cloudless sky as an arrogant air rushed up from his lungs, "Fear can't be found in my blood, only fire."

"Fire?" the stranger repeated, his interest spiked. 

"Oh, guess I didn't mention it. My full name is Ralf...Fawkes."

"Fawkes...as in a descendent of the Fire Spirit?" the stranger uttered slowly, feeling his face heat up.

"Yep, that's the one," Ralf said with a snap of his fingers, pride echoing in his voice.

"I see, I see," the stranger said as his face collapsed into a wry smile. "Now, it all makes sense. No wonder you're so abnormal. The Bloodline of Fire produces nothing but oddballs, as though out of even. You're just the latest of the lot."

"Latest and soon to be greatest."

"That will be for the time to tell. Just don't destroy any countries in your pursuit of greatness."

"I'm more of a planets person, myself," Ralf joked.

"As long as it's not this one, I couldn't care less."

"Fair enough."

"One question, though. What are you doing all the way down here in Zudrad? The Fawkes family resides in Magore, no?"

"That's a long story. Let's just say my dad wanted to be a wildfire instead of a blow torch. After separating from the main branch, he never looked back nor contacted them again," Ralf said plainly, his body language totally neutral.

"I see," the stranger said, reining in his curiosity about the topic. "Let's get back to your story, then. We were at the monster stampede."

"Right," Ralf nodded and reentered story-teller mode. "Dolf and the others scrambled into action. The first thing they did was get me to safety. Dolf's telekinesis wrapped around me, and a blur later, I was near the top of a thick rib-like tree. They told me to hang on tight, and then they rushed toward the monsters. The two sides clashed, and a chaotic battle began. I had a great view of the action, perched in my tree, nearly ten metres high. I thought watching it unfold was all I'd do...but no."

"What happened?"

"The bird monster. It spotted me and swooped down. An easy snack is what it probably thought of me - well, it was soon-to-be-dead wrong. It was fast but too predictable - for me," Ralf said, recalling the brown and blue feathered creature zigzagging toward him. "Its screech alerted me to its approach, and I raised the barrel. Back against the bark but not against the wall, I aimed with steady hands. It was a blur, but I pinned its trajectory with ease, and at the last second, I squeezed the trigger. The bullet flew true, puncturing its Ki barrier and blowing off its head. But even dead, it launched one final attack beyond the grave. The built-up momentum of the corpse struck the tree with a hefty impact, and I had to catch myself after nearly falling from my branch."

"So, that's where you got those injuries from," the stranger said, eyeing the torn sections on Ralf's outfit.

"Nope, these are from what happened afterwards."

"There's more?"

"Of course. After getting comfortable on my branch, I watched Dolf and the gang battle the monsters. They were stronger, of course, but it wasn't smooth sailing. The numbers and chaotic nature of it all seemed to get to them, and panic had the group making mistakes, and some of these mistakes cost them blood."

"And with blood comes pain," the stranger said, catching on.

"Yep. For Evan, Andrew, and Dolchinti, the surge of pain meant nothing. It didn't hinder their ability to fight. Dolf, though, was the exception. I didn't see it, but from what was said, he had taken a club strike from a decapitated orge to the ribs. A pained cry left him, and so too did his Psi-use. Dolf fought through the pain - he had to. He killed two orcs with his revolver before a goblin's claws tore through it. Unarmed and in pain, Dolf stared down the last monster, a one-armed goblin, the teenager's face torn between horror and determination. The goblin leapt at him as they usually do. Crashing and falling, the two smashed into the mud. Monster above, human below, both wrestling for dominance. The monster's stupidity and Dolf's enhanced muscles saved him from instant death."

"What about the others?" the stranger questioned, his hands gripping the bench below. "Evan, Andrew, and Dolchinti? Where were they?"

"They were fighting their own battles in the distance and unaware of Dolf's predicament. However, I was not and immediately moved. I would have taken aim if I had any more bullets left, but unfortunately, that wasn't the case. So, I rushed down the tree, more falling in style than anything else." 

Ralf waved his bandage-wrapped left arm and said, "Proof of my desperation. After getting down, I dashed toward him and the monster while shouting for him to stay as is. Dolf was a champ about it, even as the monster's drool flowed down his face and into his mouth..."

"Spare me the details on that," the stranger implored, showing a disgusted face. "What happened next? A barrelling tackle? A stab?"

"Not quite. I did draw my borrowed blade as I ran, but I knew a stab wouldn't do the trick. Sharp as it was, it wouldn't penetrate the Ki barrier - well, that was my guess. Running and stabbing wouldn't cut it - nor pierce it. Luckily, there was a slope nearby, rising about five metres off the ground. I used it as Mother Nature most likely intended. Reaching my maximum velocity, I leapt off the mound and descended with gravity's aid, my blade like a falling arrow of death."

Ralf’s lips curled up as he recalled the exact moment. 

"It was enough, just enough. The barrier invisible to my eyes was punctured. Through the barrier and then through the nape, the monster died in an instant."

"Incredible."

Ralf soaked in the compliment and the look of awe the stranger was directing at him for a few seconds more before remembering what came next. He turned away and scratched his cheek, an awkward expression coming to be.

"Ah, yeah, Dolf was saved, but uuh...the aftermath wasn't as smooth as I liked it to be. The blade was sharp, so after passing through the goblin, it ended up stabbing itself deep into Dolf's shoulder. Also, with my momentum, I knocked out his wind, amongst other things. I also didn't come out unscathed. My right shoulder dislocated, and several ribs cracked," Ralf said, patting at his mid-section. "That was a pain."

"Was?" the stranger asked to confirm.

"Yep," Ralf nodded. "After rolling ourselves upright, I retrieved two painless potions from my bag, and we downed them to the last drop. Its effects are still swimming in me right now."

The stranger smiled, relieved and strangely happy.

"Dolf, unchained by pain, wielded his Psi once more and joined the others to finish off the monsters while I took shelter. It was smooth sailing from there and not a half-minute later, all the monsters were dead. We regrouped and celebrated our victory - but celebrations didn't last long," Ralf's face suddenly dimmed.

"A twist in the story," the stranger mused.

"A fly in the soup, more like it," Ralf dropped his face in his palms and sighed a long-suffering sigh. "What was supposed to be a tale of heroics, of whoa turned into one of woe at their arrival: the evil Overseers. Our commotion had caught their attention. The group in black and blue flew over. I rushed to hide, but it was useless. Unbeknownst to us, a Second Sight had been on us for dozens of seconds. They surrounded us, and not long after that came the fiery lecture. I was given a slap on the wrist - being a minor and all - but Dolf and the others weren't so lucky. They were taken into custody in Tronson. Probably still being grilled right now. A tragedy."

"I wouldn't say that's a tragedy. Those boys brought it upon themselves. They should have known better, you too. Capable or not, children shouldn't enter Monster Zones."

"That sounds like something my mom would say -aah, my mom." Ralf shook at the remembrance. For the first time that day, the boy felt anxiety. 

The stranger's lips quirked up into a wry smile. "Your strangeness compounds by the seconds. Dauntless before man-eating monsters but trembling at the thought of your mother. Is she that scary?"

"No, not at all. But she doesn't have to be. Her words are law."

"Really now," the stranger showed an exasperated look. "Your story's proven that you're more than willing to break laws if need- if want-be."

"I'm a good apple," Ralf defended himself. "The laws of man and physics may be bent and broken, but not the laws of mother."

"I see. So, what? You're stalling?"

"Exactly. These moments are my last as a free man. I'll almost certainly be grounded forever should I - when I return home," Ralf said, leaning all the way back on the bench.

"And you're spending this precious time with me?"

"Why not? There's no better person to spend it with on this side of the globe," Ralf breathed out the words. "Now," his head slouched the stranger's way, "your turn."

"My turn?" The stranger tilted his head to mirror his young companion.

"To share a story, a bit about yourself, or anything at all. I have a knack for faces, and yours is unfamiliar. So, what brings you to Kladek, to Zudrad? Are you travelling alone or with others? And why? I'm all ears, so fire away."

"Well, you've shared a lot, so it's only right to do the same. I suppose I should start with introductions. My name is..."

Ah?!  Ralf's eyes widened as he witnessed the happening in the corner of his vision. He snapped his head leftward to capture the transformation sequence.

The stranger was maturing rapidly, as though his personal clock was spinning thousands of times faster than everyone else's. From teenager to early twenties in a few blinks. His limbs and hair extended, his body grew more muscular and broad, and his face lost its innocence. The stranger maintained a pretty boy aesthetic, but a certain rigidity and sharpness were added to his person. 

The stranger opened his eyelids anew, his gaze settling on the starstruck face of his young companion. He smirked and continued, "...Micheal Ascania, perhaps you've heard of me."

Ralf blanked at the revelation. 

Micheal Ascania...the Radiant Face, the Immortal, the Father of Potionology, the World's Strongest Man, the Fifth Pillar, the...list spanned a dozen more titles.

Needless to say, Ralf was well aware of Micheal. In fact, you'd have to search long and hard to find anyone who hadn’t heard of Micheal Ascania and his numerous deeds. Even those in the womb knew well of the Raven's reputation. 

Simply put, Micheal was a living legend. He had been alive since humanity welcomed its first batch of psionics some three hundred years ago. Most notably, he was a member of Raven Tail, a legendary band of psionics, once responsible for saving all of humanity.

After a few seconds of stunned silence, Ralf recovered his slack jaw from the floor and turned into a machine gun. Given an opportunity to speak with a Raven, he didn't hold back. Questions and requests were fired Micheal's way in rapid succession.

Micheal humoured Ralf, answering his questions and accepting his requests with little to no reservation. He watched with amusement as his young companion's delicate face would light up after each successive word and demonstration. 

The Raven showcased his mastery over creation and destruction, shifting between no less than a hundred forms and even showcasing some of his famed techniques, <Black Death>, Micheal's ultimate offensive technique standing out amongst the rest. 

Ralf keenly observed the orb of darkness the size of a melon floating above Micheal's open palm. He felt awe, of course, but strangely, something else as well: familiarity. It was the wrong colour, but the otherworldly flames that spurted from the sphere's circumference felt eerily similar to the white flames he usually fantasised about.

Ralf made a mental note but didn't let his mind linger on the similarity. Instead, he tested the legendary technique. It was as potent as advertised. Anything that made contact with the sphere was instantly erased from reality. 

Ralf and Micheal continued their back and forth for nearly an hour. It was only as the sun was visibly setting that Micheal moved to bring things to a close.

“It's getting quite late. You should head home, Ralf. The time to face the music has arrived."

“Uhh,…but-”

Micheal tapped his shoulder. “I’ll be staying in Kladek for a few more days. We can continue our discussion tomorrow or the day after. Go on for now, okay?”

Ralf’s spirits lifted. "Very well, another day, then."

"Oh, before you go," Micheal extended his pointer finger towards Ralf's neck. 

A tendril sprouted from said finger and penetrated Ralf's soft flesh. Once connected, Micheal entertained a familiar flood of information before directing his Psi accordingly. The restoration took a second flat. Ralf felt the painless potion's numbness leave his body, and that was it.

Micheal withdrew his finger. "Okay, good as new."

Ralf felt around and confirmed the words. It was true. No injury could be found on his body. "Pristine, excellent. This will help my cover story. Me Entering a Monster Zone? No, no, I would never. Must have been someone else. I mean look at me, where’s the supposed injuries - ah, ow,” Ralf said, rubbing his head after suffering a chop.

"No lies," Micheal said sternly, lowering his knife hand. 

"Of course," Ralf stretched his words. "Anyway, thanks. See you again - oh, one last thing; about Dolf and the others, can you put in a good word for them? If not for me being who I am, an abnormal, and constant badgering, they'd have never agreed to let a child tag along. And even after they did, they prioritized safety at every step. Those boys are good apples."

"I see. I'll let those in Tronson know."

"Thanks, Micheal."

Ralf parted with a smile on his face and headed home. He would meet with a furious Hana, who dished out his punishment. Ralf brought up meeting Micheal Ascania, but the angered Hana promptly discarded it as nonsense meant to distract. In her mind, there was simply no way.

*** 

Remembering the ordeal provoked another sigh from Ralf. He looked toward the window and considered making a daring escape but quickly discarded the idea. He had already tried and failed.

‘I won’t be able to sneak past her Psi Scan undetected. And if I try, who knows how long she’ll extend my sentence. The only thing I can do is wait for her to calm down enough. After she’s done sculpting, I’ll bring up Micheal again. Hopefully, she relents. I never even got to talk about Dimitri and his betrayal…I must know.’

The minutes passed by, and Ralf’s mind moved onto another topic.

‘It's been two months already! Great Aether, stop delaying my psionic awakening.’

Psionic awakening.

Since the Zenki Ripple first passed by the planet some three hundred years ago, humanity gained the ability to wield various magical abilities. Those who could use these powers were called psionics or Psi users. 

Psionics all started as regular humans. Then somewhere between the ages of thirteen and eighteen, they would undergo an awakening process that would determine their Psi class. 

There were seven Psi classes. 

From most common to rarest, they were: the telekinetic class, Telepathic class, Clairvoyant class, Natural class, Onic class, Mimic class, and Unique class.

Not all were destined to awaken Psi powers, though. Those that didn't were called norins. The psionics to norins ratio was basically fifty-fifty. The statistic resembled a fair coin flip, but it wasn't.

While a psionic could emerge from two norins, there was a higher likelihood of one coming from two psionic parents. In this regard, Ralf was lucky. Both of his parents were psionics. They were the most common type and not anything special, power-wise, but the fact that they were both psionics increased his odds of awakening his own power. That said, this fact wasn't what made Ralf as confident as he was.

Just as one's immediate lineage was important, so too was one's distant lineage. In this regard, Ralf was blessed to be part of the Fawkes bloodline, or as it was also known, the Bloodline of Fire.

The Fawkes lineage had dozens of powerful psionics among its ranks, with Kai Fawkes, a legendary fire Mimic considered among the strongest psionics ever, often put on the same pedestal - power-wise - as those from Raven Tail. Boosting such an impressive bloodline, Ralf was confident in awakening magical abilities. There was no doubt in his mind.

Instead of worrying about the dreadful possibility of failing to awaken powers, he instead spent his time fantasizing about which power he would wield in the future.

‘What powers will I get? Something like my white flames would be nice.’

Ralf’s eyes pooled with desire as he imagined himself wielding the deadly element.

Naturally, his thoughts drifted to his distant ancestor, Kai Fawkes. No Fawkes descendent after Kai had even come close to reaching the heights he had in his short life. Ralf was looking to change this fact. He wanted to be powerful - nay, the strongest. Something in him craved power, to dominate, to be the one above all. 

Anticipation and excitement burned hot in the teenager's chest as he awaited the day - the moment his awakening would arrive. He was in the age range, after all.

Ralf tossed and turned on his bed. In an effort to disperse this energy, he grabbed the wooden dolls on his pedestal and began playing with them.

‘High kick’

‘Block’

‘Punch’

Ralf did a play-by-play on the fight. At his manipulation, a fierce engagement erupted. His active imagination added to the fun, overlaying his vision with flashy effects. This was one of his favourite pastimes and also part of what he called his 'training'.

Bam!

The two fighters' fists met with a loud clack. Pausing for dramatic effect, Ralf then pulled his left hand back. The left doll now on his knees, slowly got up, his posture wobbly. The collision seemed to take a lot out of him.

Meanwhile, the right doll had his chin to the sky and arms folded before his chest.

‘You stood no chance against me, fool. Return in a hundred years, maybe then you’ll be able to stand before m- ah?’

Ralf’s roleplay faltered as he was struck by a queer sensation. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. His mind worked to analyze it, but before he could, his consciousness was tugged at by an irresistible force.

*Plop*

Like a puppet whose strings got cut, Ralf collapsed onto the bed.