The boy trembled irritably in slumber during the earliest hours of the morning.

The room bathed in sunlight, yet darkness reigned throughout. Black smoke enveloped the boy’s body and bathed the interior of the room in its gloomy shadow. This darkness reached out to caress the walls, the furniture, the ceiling and the floor but it never parted from the flesh of the boy, it merely reached out as far as its mass could bare to be stretched.

The slumbering boy twisted and turned over in the depths of an eerie dream.

The smoke grasped the shape of his surroundings. All of it was made clear to him, as if the smoke itself was filled with nerves it transmitted all it grasped and sent it back to the boy’s overburdened brain. Any veteran would recognise it; the second of Ash’s four powers, the Silver Class’ ability, the Manifestation of Ash, at work as the boy slumbered.

The unfamiliar surroundings urged it forth, the boy’s subconscious mind grasped the world around it for this reason. Truth be told were Rapture to be conscious right at this moment he would not be able to tell where he ended and his Ash began, it would be a strange and uninviting reality. Perhaps then, it was for this reason that he had yet to grasp this power consciously.

The Ash flowed free, endlessly caressing every nook and cranny of the room around him until it found its way to the shelves and knocked a vase free into the waiting embrace of gravity.

The sound of shattering pottery made the boy’s eyes open wide in a flash. He sat up and noticed the tendrils of dark as they danced around him like the limbs of an octopus but mist-like in form.

His shock was self evident, as was the result it had on the power that was an extension of his will. The black mist was disrupted, and so it dispersed an instant of time later. That reality was followed by a low but resounding boom.

The boy fell silent, he stared at his hand as the black aura seeped from his flesh same as ever. When he willed it the black mist gathered once again, it circled with his fingers as he moulded it into form.

Rapture’s mind turned to numbness, his body chilled until pale, his heart descended once more into a cycle of chaotic thoughts. He opened and closed his palm three times to collect his thoughts in silence.

The black mist came as called, it was conjured as he willed once and once again but his frail state of mind played its part and barred the power from shaping anything even marginally akin to its fullest potential.

Rapture did not know what to make of this development, was this force a part of him or was he just a conduit? The line between this power and his own flesh and blood felt more and more blurred by the passing of days, one need not find it surprising that he would curse such a reality.

His mind and heart were still in turmoil for a time but it was not long before both yielded to an atrophy of emotion.

Much had happened these past days, much he could hardly accept. Here he was in Venus at last, yet he felt no better for it. He could not help but to lower his closed fist gently down onto the bed. That was all he did, it was an act that used no more force than what would be utilised when placing a breakable glass down upon a flat desk, and yet it caused no tiny stir.

When the boy’s knuckle touched the bed the black mist burst forth again like fire escaping from a sealed space. The bed was split in two and the middle slammed down into the floor like a hammer.

The boy was startled, the loud noise shocked him in no small way, he had held no intent to cause such a thing yet it happened nonetheless. He stared blankly at the damage he had wrought and let his shoulders drop anew.

He leaned forward and exhaled a sigh of great exhaustion. He resisted the urge to comb over his face with his fingers, an act many do when stressed, for the fear he might accidentally blow his own head off was now present therewithin. He leaned back again, his head turned to face the ceiling ten feet high.

“It can’t go on like this,” He told himself. The power he possessed was very real and now he knew more clearly than ever that it was quite dangerous too. Yesterday’s scenes still flipped through his mind, fresh as an apple picked from the tree and bitter as the worst foods imaginable.

He was not quite savvy enough to understand the fullest implications of Lady Nymph’s words, only that they had made the atmosphere around him very uncomfortable.

“Forget it,” He muttered to himself. He had two goals in this city, nothing more. He sought first to master his newfound powers. Though he despised them, he could not deny he needed them to survive in this world. His fleshy body was far inferior to even the Bronze Class members of the crowd he'd seen on his way to this manor.

His second goal, of course, was to learn all he could about his mother, and the gods as well. Most importantly of all, of course, was the god she had worshipped, the one named Rognir. His eyes lit up with a malicious shine, he thought to slay that cursed god with the very powers that it had given away. He did not know at that time, but such desires were naught but a fleeting dream.

______________________________________________

Amelia stood tall in the field behind the manor that she and Venus’ upper class called home. The morning light shone down bright. She spied the moon that was now held aloft in the heavens and compared its position to that of the sun which stood giant, red and dim in the very centre of the sky.

The time had come, the eighth hour since the eclipse. She lowered her gaze and then closed her eyes. With crossed arms she leaned her back against the brick wall of the manor. Her gaze turned from time to time to glance at the decking and roof that formed the manor’s exterior dining area.

The focus of her thoughts was clear; she was waiting for Rapture. She closed her eyes to wait in silence and then, after who knew how long, she at last heard the sound of the door behind her being opened from the other side.

She turned to face the decking as light footsteps from a body less than a meter and a half tall measured against its wooden surface. True to her expectations, there stood the boy, Rapture, clad in black with his mother’s trident strapped to his back.

“How are you feeling?” She asked him. The boy shook his head, he didn’t really know what he should say to that question given this morning’s events.

He raised his hand and opened his palm. Ash darker than black, with a force of heat fit to scatter the wind, burst into being there in the palm of his hand.

She stared blank upon it for a time. The power contained in that pitch black sphere of Ash was substantial, even she would say so.

“I...need a new bed, because of this,” Rapture said as he gazed into the pitch black burning mass. The power in his hands was then crushed in the next instant as his fingers closed into a fist.

Amelia observed as the resulting shockwave ruptured the air around the boy’s fist with a low sounding boom. She could tell at a glance that the power contained in that mass had been far too strong for him to manage it properly.

This was not an issue for normal people, whose powers grew with them until the age of physical maturity, but it was most certainly a problem for him since he had the power of a fully grown Platinum Class given to him all at once.

The ability to conjure Ash and move it to one’s will was simplistic and yet lethal, it was a power that could break down anything it touches. Scholars often said that this power’s destructive influence might even reach a level that was even smaller than the cells that composed a person’s flesh.

Ash Manifestation was such a power, a lethal weapon that the Bronze Class could never possess nor compete against, in fact without their heavy plate armour they would not even be able to withstand it. For all these reasons, it was clear to her just how dangerous this power Rapture could not control might yet become if left unchecked.

“Your body is definitely abnormal,” She could not help but say so. She couldn’t help but admit to herself that this matter was giving her quite the headache. Her issue was clear, she knew what needed to be done but with no existing precedent cases there was no hope for her to know exactly how to go about doing it.

Rapture shrugged his shoulders with indifference. For him, this matter was no less a headache. For once, he could naught but crack a smile.

“With this, even if my 'Mutation' remains weaker than everyone else’s, I’ll still have an edge, right?” He said. Indeed, though he was not the most well informed, he could still tell that the Platinum Class were scarce and that the basic difference between the classes in the first place fell upon just how much Ash they possessed.

This same factor applied to Ash Manifestation, the more Ash one had the stronger that power became. He knew his Ash Mutation was weak, indeed he knew it well, therefore he could not but hope that his Ash Manifestation could be stronger in exchange.

Amelia glanced his way in response to those words, she could not help but look at him with doubt. She could not understand why he was worried about such a thing?

“I admit your Mutation’s flawed,” She said to him, “But what does that matter?” The boy’s expression turned from unease to surprise. He had hoped she would not refute his suspicions, he had never expected however that she would write them off like so.

“What do you mean?” He asked her, “My Mutation being weak means my body’s weaker than others, right? Ash Mutation takes years to influence its host, no matter what won’t my body always be weaker than other people’s because I’m fourteen years behind them?”

Amelia looked at him for a moment with a glance of sudden understanding. Just as he said, this boy had only recently gained his power at fourteen years of age. Compared to those who were born with this power it was true that his Ash Mutation fell far behind, once he reached full physical maturity it would even stop altogether. He was right, but only as far as basic Mutation mattered.

“You’re overthinking it,” She said, dismissing his concerns with a simple gesture. The boy stared at her in blank surprise, he didn’t quite understand.

“What do you mean?” He could not help but ask.

“You are a Platinum Class, like me, so one day you’ll have access to Advanced Mutation. Once you awaken to that power, who cares about the limitations of its lesser form?” She said, and then the boy’s confusion lasted only a moment more.

He focused on those two words, the words which formed the name for Ash’s fourth and final power, and found himself thinking back to the moment they had arrived at this city yesterday. Then he grasped some semblance of understanding.

He had personally witnessed the moment when Amelia transformed a part of her own being into a fully functional hawk, separated it from herself and then eventually absorbed it back into her being without any issue. That was but one showing of Advanced Mutation’s potential, if this power could be used to generate life itself then what was his problem by comparison?

Though he did not yet have this power, he was a Platinum Class, like Amelia herself, and he would attain it given time. Then, at that moment, he would no longer have to worry about something as trivial as a frail body.

“Has that put your mind at ease?” Amelia asked him. The boy snapped back to reality and looked towards her, he nodded his head. Indeed her words had put him at ease, he raised his hand anew and conjured Ash therein. Perhaps it reflected his heart a bit, for the blackness of that Ash seemed now less putrid than it had been before, it even looked a faint bit blue.

Amelia then pointed with her chin towards the water, where no matter how many times they shot out Ash’s immense power no damage would be done and no people would be harmed. “Very good,” She said, “Then let’s begin.”

“Yes,” Said the boy, who then stepped forward. The power in his hands seemed tamer than before. He waved his hand and sent the power rushing forth. The surface of the sea twisted and parted, though only by an inch, as the dark blue Ash cut a swath across its form.

Savage winds rushed back and sent both their clothes and hair aflutter. The boy was shocked, he could not help but to stare at his open palm in doubt. He could hardly believe such a power, such a force, was coming from his own being.

“One last thing,” Amelia said as she pushed back her hair behind her right ear. The boy glanced towards her, he looked at her half in doubt. “Since I’m your teacher now, we mustn’t forget the etiquette. I’m not one for formalities, but don’t expect to get away with calling me anything but master from now on, understood?”

The boy’s doubt faded in an instant. He turned to face her, this woman who had guided him, this woman who had shown him the world beyond the Sanctuary’s walls.

He never asked for any of this but, in truth, if there was one thing that he did not dislike when all was said and done, one person that, even if given the choice to turn back time, he would want to meet again, it was this woman. He performed a bow, that of an apprentice accepting their master’s command.

“As you wish, Master Amelia,” He said the words without a hint of hesitation, doubt, or sarcasm. Amelia was taken aback, she was even a little bit shocked, but she recovered in a flash. She could not help but to make a decision. She knew that her Lady might well not approve, but she spoke the words she felt were best. Best for this boy, the son of her mentor, and her own disciple.

“I promise to teach you everything I know, this isn’t just me fulfilling my obligation to your mother, it’s me doing what I can for you...and should the day come where you do choose to leave us, know that I will not ever deny you.”