Chapter 1 - So It Begins (Patreon)

Jiran gently awoke to the soft sounds of birds chirping in the early morning light. An instant later, he was flooded with conflicting emotions, adrenaline bringing him fully awake.

Today is the day!

Combating a surge of nervous excitement, he coaxed his breathing to slow and his heart to return to its normal cadence.

Even if it's the celebration of my first birthing day, work still needs to be done.

He stretched lightly, extending his small, wiry arms and legs to their full length as he released a breath of steam into the frigid air.

Standing up, he stepped cautiously around his parents, smiling at their happily snoring faces.

He made his way to the fire pit that dominated the center of their small brick and mortar home. Before leaving, he stoked the coals and placed a new log on the dying embers.

At least their morning will be a little warmer than mine.

He pulled on his day clothes and made sure he had his satchel with the meals prepared from the night before, then stepped into the cool dawn.

First Father’s red light had just begun to peak above the Murinth Oceans horizon.

“Perfect, I'm not late today,” He moved quickly, breathing deeply of the fresh coastal air.

I wonder if I’ll get there before Uncle today.

Jiran passed through the familiar sights of his village. Small hovels and two-story wood cabins lined the narrow streets far above the rocky cove that sheltered the pier from the great uncrossable Murinth.

He waved briefly to the few shopkeepers and peddlers who had early business to get to as well.

“Good morning, Jiran!” Old lady Mireg waved him over as soon as she noticed him.

“Good morning, Elder Mireg, are you expecting any deliveries today?”

“Only if that good-for-nothing Skandor gets off his lazy backside and brings in some decent meat. I swear he only hunts the weakest beasts at the edge of the forest as if he were still a child with his first bow!

"Well, my old bones are telling me we’re going to see a real beast soon. After all, Madra abhors stagnation. It’s been far too long since Skandor was pushed,” She gesticulated wildly, with a voice loud enough to make the people on the other side of the street uncomfortable.

Jiran flinched at her boisterous demeanor and especially the implications that a strong beast might attack their village soon.

“Please don’t say that, honored elder. Look at the poor boy, you’re putting the fright right in him,” came a gentle chiding from Sasha as she organized her vegetable stand.

Mireg snorted, “Well if he’s lucky, that’s exactly what will happen.”

She pointed her finger right at Jiran’s nose and spoke with a frown.

“Jiran needs to claim his imperial tithe from Skandor, and the influx of density will boost the entire village. Fathers know we could use it, scraps from low tier beasts will only take a village so far.”

She wasn't wrong, but a Tier four beast, not properly put down, would spell doom for everyone in the village, and they all knew it.

Jiran gulped, “I really must be going ma'am. Is there anything I can do for you this morning? A message to uncle perhaps?”

Mireg, still frowning, saw his discomfort and gave a toothy smile.

“No, child. I just wanted to give you a small gift for your celebration today,” She handed him a small, freshly baked bun.

“Take it and get along now.”

Jiran’s fingers tingled as they came into contact with the treat.

He backed away from the elder with wide, shocked eyes and bowed fully to show his gratitude.

“Just remember this old lady when you get around to being a hunter, then you can bring me something nice to return the favor,” She chuckled with her still-wide grin.

“Yes ma’am, of course, thank you so much!”

Not giving her any time to change her mind about the extravagant gift, Jiran pocketed the treat and rushed off.

I can’t believe she gave me such high tier food. I’ve never eaten anything above first tier before. I can’t wait to find out what it tastes like.

Unable to help himself, he tore off a small piece and greedily stuck it into his mouth. Flavors burst across his tongue. The moment it reached his stomach, it exploded into energy that washed through his entire body.

He felt his muscles and bones reacting to the influx of density, reinforcing his petite body.

He had heard from his parents that the best meals in the village were much more potent than their usual fare, but this was far beyond his expectations.

He stopped running and moved to the side of the small street that ran through the village. Eagerly, Jiran closed his eyes. Printed on the inside of his eyelids were letters and numbers in a gold text.

Strength + .3

Agility + .5

Endurance + .4

Durability + .2

Wisdom + .3

Intelligence + .2

All requirements for tiering achieved

WARNING - Tiering may render unconsciousness ensure safety and sufficient density before proceeding

I did it! I finally reached 100% growth!

My stats are capped too. I can tier up whenever I want now. My tiering will happen with tonight's meal regardless, but now I get to be capped all day.

I can’t believe I got half a point in each attribute from that single bite!

A pushing sensation swelled inside him, like being deep underwater with a lung full of air. The pressure pushed both in and out making him feel like a fish, stuffed and ready to serve.

Suddenly, he felt a sense of dread and his adrenaline spiked. His eyes flew open in alarm and he cast his gaze around him, searching for the threat. When he found nothing, he began to calm, yet the uneasy feeling remained.

He had been warned about the feeling of pressure, yet he’d never heard mention of any reason to fear the first tiering. Uneasy now, he stopped himself from eating more of the bun.

Maybe I ate too much? It was really delicious though. I can’t wait for my tiering so I can finish it.

He ran the rest of the way at full speed, feeling stronger than moments ago. His uncle was already hard at work when he arrived, lining empty barrels beside their only cart.

Jiran stole a moment to envy his uncle’s formidable appearance.

Easily one of the strongest members of the village at tier three, he had layers of muscles, a tall stature, and wide shoulders that made him stand out wherever he went.

Fathers above, please let me grow up big and strong like my uncle and not short like Pappa.

After his daily prayer, Jiran bade a quick and informal, “Morning Uncle,'' then made his way into the shop.

He dropped his satchel in the corner, then moved to Micah’s side and began stacking barrels on  the rapidly growing pile.

Soon, First Mother’s pale blue light crested the horizon, marking the start of the day for most of the village. As her blue mingled with First Father’s red, the sky turned a light purple.

The streets gradually filled with people going about their business. Some made their way to the pier while a few brave or strong villagers prepared to forage the outermost layers of the forest. The vast majority dragged tools to the fields inside the walls.

“Well, boy, I suppose congratulations are in order. You survived all seven seasons. You’re almost a year old. I hope you’re excited for your tiering. I know I’ll certainly enjoy putting more work on your shoulders once you're officially a citizen of the Empire.

“Have you thought about your vow of service?”

“Yes Uncle, I decided I want to serve the full year. Then when I come back, I’ll be able to contribute more.” He took a pause to gather his thoughts.

“I know that’s what everyone says when they go off to serve. I feel like I owe so much to the village. I want to be strong enough when I return to bring us all up a tier. I want to help everyone, especially Momma and Pappa.”

Micah let out a long sigh, then fondly rubbed the top of Jirans head before responding.

“It’s not easy. There are a great deal of opportunities in the Empire. If you change your mind, nobody here would blame you. Just don’t give up on whatever you decide to do once the time comes.”

Jiran didn’t know how to respond so he busied himself with his work, preparing their wagon with the day's load.

By the time Second Father’s yellow light was fully visible in the sky, all the required barrels were neatly cataloged and stacked in the wagon. The two then set out toward the growing fields.

Jiran pulled the wagon by himself. He was excited that it was easier than normal after eating the bun he had received from Mireg. He imagined how strong he would be after today, his dream of becoming as big as Uncle Micah felt closer with every step.

Soon the fields came into view. More than half of the village was present, working in tandem.

A single planter would place a seed into the ground while two stood behind providing water. Groups of five would then hold out their hands, eyes focused, mumbling the words to their growth castings.

The plant would grow from seedling, to stalk, to budding, and finally to harvestable within the span of a few seconds.

As the growers moved to the next seedling, the harvesters would come and quickly collect the crop to be carted off to a growing pile near the road.

All the while, members from each group would swap out to give others a break from the strenuous casting. Backs straight and heads held high, Jiran watched them for what seemed like the thousandth time.

Jiran and Micah stopped the wagon near the processed goods. Jiran busied himself stuffing each barrel while Micah would slowly run his fingers along the seam of the wooden lids.

After his finger passed over the small gap between lid and barrel, the gap would completely vanish, eventually leaving a fully sealed cask ready for transport.

Jiran watched Micah work out of the corner of his eye and felt excitement for tomorrow. He was so close to being able to use his own mana that he could hardly contain himself.

They worked efficiently, then soon were on their way to the granaries where all the produce would be stored for the coming densoon season.

Jiran had no memories of his first densoon and wasn’t looking forward to this next one. The stories about the dreaded season were nothing but death and sadness.

After they stored yesterday’s produce, the two made their way back toward the shop. By the time they returned, First Mother was at her zenith. Her eternal hunt to catch First Father in the sky was no closer than he had ever seen it.

They made good time due to Jiran’s increased strength. Despite the hard work, he was still brimming with energy, ready to take on his midday tasks when they arrived.

Just as he was about to dig through the daily deliveries, the sound of a horn blasted through the village. The long keening note was followed by a second, then a third. As he was about to breathe a sigh of relief, a fourth horn sounded.

Jiran’s breath caught and every muscle in his body contracted. Stress rolled through him as goosebumps rose up his arms.

Four horns, Fourth tier!

Eyes wide in disbelief, he turned to Micah. His uncle had also stopped and stood frozen. As soon as their gazes locked, the spell was broken and both broke into a sprint.

Jiran headed to the section of the wall where the first horn had sounded. While Micah headed in the opposite direction, toward his nearby house.

Anticipation built in Jiran as he pumped his legs as quickly as they would go toward the nearest sentry tower. He hoped it would offer the best view of the upcoming battle.

Dread at the idea of everyone dying started to seep into him. Being the only Tier four in the village, If Skandor lost, there wouldn’t be a single person who could stand up to the beast.

He sent a silent prayer to the Fathers that his family would have a quick and painless end if the worst came to pass. Then he pushed those thoughts down with a snarl.

The sound of explosions reached his ears just before he made it to the wooden tower.

He wasted no time climbing up the scaffolding of the tower to see over the earthen rampart protecting the village.