POV Dalia Davenport:
The candles continue to illuminate the hall where all the nobles are reunited; at the far end of the ballroom, I can see the rest of the children who take the daily training with me. They seem to be talking among themselves, probably accustomed to this type of party; every time one was celebrated, they missed the training in order to attend.
I’m a little worried that someone will notice something related to my awakening. I know that some people can see your status window with special skills or with the help of enchanted artifacts, but I remind myself that no one in here is brave enough to do that kind of thing to the children of a Viscount, especially in his presence. There are ways to detect it, and if they are discovered, they can ruin their entire family.
“Congrats!”
“Their futures are very promising.”
“The Viscount should be really proud of them.”
The nobles are congregating around my brothers and choosing to ignore me; after being warned by every servant how I was the outcast of the family, their stance in this situation is pretty obvious.
My status window actualizes itself after what just happened to me, and even if it’s terrifying, the fear that I’m feeling needs to be contained; I cannot let them know that something is wrong.
Gathering strength, I open my status window.
Name: Dalia Davenport.
Age: 10 years.
Race: Human.
Level: 65 [Exp: 1905/2632]
Health: 60
Stamina: 45
Intelligence: 100 + [100] = 200
Agility: 25
Strength: 25 + [100] = 125
Luck: -1
Available points: 651
Skills: [Mana sense Lv54] [Mana manipulation Lv66] [Mana absorption Lv53] [Poisonous poop Lv15] [Poison resistance Lv15] [Body coordination Lv55] [Mental resistance Lv55] [Physical Pain Resistance Lv61] [Silent Spell Casting Lv52] [Amplified voice Lv6] [Running Lv59] [Spell casting Lv21] [Enhance Vision Lv30] [Detailed Analysis Lv30] [Balance Lv30] [Bow proficiency Lv25] [Reading Lv51] [Writing Lv51] [Mathematics Lv51] [Danger sense Lv30] [Fast arrow loading Lv25] [Deception Lv5] [Shadow movements Lv1] [Change of atmosphere Lv1] [Dance Lv10] [Drawing Lv15] [Critical thinking Lv10] [Public speaking Lv6] [Analyze evidence Lv10] [Debate Lv2] [Meditation Lv10] [Eavesdropping Lv1] [Intimidation Lv1] [Singing Lv1] [Incitement Lv1] [Lie detection Lv1]
Title: [Youngest Magus alive: Bestow to the entity who manages to have a mana network and a mana core before everybody else of their own race; it gives you one hundred points in intelligence and a better mana control.]
Title: [Cursed Child: It converts all luck points into available points, locking the luck stat in minus one. You will be the center of catastrophe; if something can go wrong, it will go wrong. It gives you one hundred points in strength.]
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Magic Attributes: [Holy Magic] [Fire Magic] [Water Magic] [Earth Magic] [Air Magic]
Reading my status window and confirming what I’ve become, it's disheartening; the impotence that I’m feeling right now is on another level; not even when I was trapped in prison did I experience something like this. It’s like the gods and the universe are against me. I don’t know if I’m overreacting, but I just wish I had someone to talk to.
Being surrounded by a lot of people that only want to use one another to climb in society and power doesn’t help my situation. I search for a friend with my eyes, but everyone is ignoring me. When I see Master Rod again, he only gives me a small smile, but only that; I know that he’s not my friend. I want to scream; if Leonore was here, it would be a different story.
My vision starts to get blurry, and I start hyperventilating; my pulse is like crazy, the sound of my heart gets to my ears, and for some sort of reason I start to believe that everyone in here can hear it too, that the looks that they are giving me are because they know my secrets and are judging me.
I need to take a few steps to the end of the room and get some fresh air. When I arrive at the window, I manage to calm myself a little; the situation hasn’t changed, but at least I’m not feeling like I would get on my knees and start screaming at any moment.
Suddenly I hear how a sound cuts through all the chatting and celebration of the nobles, a sharp rhythm of armored boots on marble; even if they are not loud or rushed, everyone can feel the power in them, the same feeling when the Viscount enters the ballroom takes place.
From a side archway, flanked by marble Tiraval statues, I can see five men entering the hall.
They did not need any presentation; their presence together with their looks is enough for me to know who they are. The five survivors of the last trial that formed part of the Davenport family.
Clad in the formal regalia of their earned ranks, the five heirs of the house approached the center of the ballroom. They walked like commanders. Their gazes swept across the hall like scouts assessing a battlefield. I see how everyone parted in order to make a path for them; the people start murmurs tinged with awe and trepidation.
Each of them had passed the Trial a decade prior, returning not as boys but as something more. When it was their turn to take the test, there were thirty boys of the family, a great number if you ask me, but twenty-five perished in there.
I know for a fact that at least three wives are pregnant right now; they keep pushing their bodies to the limit in search of the perfect heir.
I can recognize each of them from where I’m standing; the eldest son is Varek; he has a great blade across his back, its hilt wrapped in dragonbone. Some people say that he had once single-handedly held a canyon pass against a wyvern flight. I see how his gaze lingered briefly on the Viscount, then flicked to Liam and Mateo with a faint nod; for a fraction of a second I see how he looks at me only to frown.
The second son is Siran; he gives a different vibe compared to Varek. He’s wearing robes of silent dusk; rumor says that he’s an expert on assassinations. He did not smile or look towards the Viscount; his eyes are only on me.
Kaelric is the third, bore scars openly; after surviving a cursed forest, he lost the ability to talk. I can see that he has an unreadable expression beneath a helm.
The fourth son is Torven, who wears simple clothes; the only different thing about him is how he carried a pair of carved gauntlets, and people say that his fists contain the power of an elemental spirit. His eyes glinted as he looked at my brothers, raising an eyebrow when he saw me away from everyone.
The fifth one is Luthan, the youngest of the proven sons; his mother was the same as mine, and he has the lean build of a duelist. He appears to be bored to be here; probably for him this show is unnecessary, especially since nobody knows if the children who have their awakening will survive their trial.
The five of them had never met their younger siblings, not truly; all of them were sons of different mothers, forged for a single purpose: to survive the trial and become the heir that the Viscount had yet to name.
“Brothers.” Varek is the one who breaks the silence. “The blood speaks now; your road begins at the same site ours took place; do not falter.” He says with the weight of command.
Liam straightened, and Mateo nodded, both visibly trembling. I can see that no one dares to speak out loud; it appears to be some sort of family initiation, then the eldest sons turned around, returning to the edges of the ballroom, close to the place where I’m standing; apparently their duty is done.
Another person who moves towards the place where they decided to go is my mother, the fifth wife. The last, and least spoken of by the nobles. Her sharp eyes followed my figure the more she came near me; I’m receiving a silent threat to not ruin the night for her.
