There’s a funny thing about fear, even if you’ve beaten it before it can seem like a whole new enemy when it returns. This time I was prepared for it. I had frozen in the middle of a conversation with my dad, but I was putting that time to good use fighting my fear.

I’m not afraid.

I’m just confused. I repeated the words to myself in my mind. It was one thing to know that I was changing my maximum mana because my mana pool was still separate from me. At least, that’s how I thought of it.

My body was part of me.

No. I wouldn’t panic over this, I would overcome it. A shadow crossed over me, and a hand placed itself over my hand.

“It’s alright champ, whatever we fight, we fight it together.” My dad’s voice called from above me. “I’m here with you the whole way.”

“Thanks, dad.” I took a deep breath. “I’m okay now.”

His words had been the final push I needed to overcome the wave of panic. This was exactly why I needed to learn about this world, and every little detail about what was happening to me.

To do that I would need help.

“Dad, I haven’t been getting stronger because of my stats.”

“Well, son, I kind of figured that from the way you reacted.” My dad squeezed my hand. “You'll never have to tell me anything you don’t want to. But that doesn’t mean I won’t ask. What’s going on?”

My heartbeat slowed. Gerial had given me a warning never to tell anyone about the Mark of Crijik. It was the one rule he’d given me that I intended on breaking. I wanted to tell my dad, and my mother.

I needed more information before I was ready to do so.

That didn’t mean that I couldn’t tell them about what was happening to me. The Mark didn’t have to be named directly. I turned to look at my dad and saw the concern in his eyes.

“I'm getting stronger, but it’s not because of a stat. It’s because of a skill.”

My dad looked pensive. I nudged him to let him know I was okay, and he sat back down across from me. We stayed there in silence, as he went through his thoughts. I wondered what was going on in his head. He’d explained that intelligence didn’t make you a different person, but his intelligence stat was in the hundreds, it had to be helpful in solving this issue.

“What colour is the skill?” My dad spoke.

Colour?

“Sorry, but what do you mean by colour?” I asked. “The system messages are blue… and the text is… white?”

I trailed off as I tried to figure out if what I was saying was true. The system messages came and went, but I hadn’t paid attention to their colour. It hadn’t even occurred to me.

“This would have been in the lesson on how to modify your system.” My dad’s voice was low, and soft. “Usually, the default is white. The system only changes if you choose to use it. It’s like flexing a muscle, if you want to flex one on purpose then you have to focus on it.”

He took out his pen again, but this time he clicked a button on the side. He scribbled a few lines onto a spare piece of paper and then passed it to me.

“Sometimes having a visual aid can help beginners.” He explained.

I looked down at the paper and saw that the pen had changed to the colour purple.

“Try to think of this colour, and then direct it at the system.” He spoke.

I did as he said. I closed my eyes and the last thing I saw was the purple ink. I tried to keep the colour in my mind, and then I focused on the system. Not my status window, or any individual skills, just the system.

Something appeared on the edge of my mind. It was hazy. Like spotting a lighthouse in a foggy sea. I reached out to it and I focused more on the colour purple. The object slowly came into my vision.

There was something familiar about it.

I’d felt this before.

It was when I had met with Gerial for the first time. I'd felt a familiar feeling, and I’d tried to identify the source of it. I’d gotten close but then Gerial had interrupted me. This was the source of that feeling. It had waves of it oozing out.

It felt like the earth symbol in my mind. Except I couldn’t connect with this symbol. It was too cloudy, and my mind was trying to push its way through a swamp with a body made of paper.

I stopped. I’d found something and my dad should be able to work with that. As my thoughts returned to normal, I saw something flickering in my vision.

Mark of the Crijik(I): level 1. Experience 8.4%

This skill’s name hovered in front of my eyes tauntingly. It was glowing bright purple. I’d never noticed that before.

I waved it away and looked at my dad.

“You saw the name of your skill as you left, didn’t you?” My dad’s eyes pierced through the air.

A small jolt of surprise passed through me.

“I did.”

My dad went silent again. He pulled out a piece of paper and scribbled on it. Then he paused. After a moment he began writing on it again. Then he passed it over to me.

Bloodlines.

“This is a conversation I didn’t think we’d be having for a long time. It’s certainly not a conventional way of gaining power and definitely not one you can do on purpose.” My father sighed. “Did you find it difficult to see what was causing the issue?”

“It felt like I was trying to move through mud without any strength.” I didn’t hide anything. “I turned back, but it kind of felt like the earth symbol that I have in my mind.”

“Do you remember when I told you last night that humans don’t have symbols in their bodies?”

A tremor rose in my chest.

“That is only true in the case of most humans. Some humans do have symbols. These humans are said to have bloodlines. And these bloodlines provide the same benefits to humans that symbols do to monsters and other creatures.” My dad leaned forward. “I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s slow down, and I’ll explain what I can. I’ll need your help as well.”

I agreed. “Maybe let’s start the same way we did before. What is a bloodline?”

“A bloodline is a symbol inside your body.” My dad paused to give me time to process that. “It will not and cannot hurt you permanently. In fact, most persons would kill for a bloodline, and have done just that.”

A benefit?

That made sense. Once the panic died down, I realised that I wasn’t having any sort of detriment from this. My body was improving, and I was developing faster than an ordinary baby.

“It hurts when it activates. The skill, I mean. Is that attached to the bloodline?”

“It is.” My dad nodded. “All bloodlines are attached to a skill. It is easier to say that they are the origin of the skill. The pain is uncommon, but not unexpected. You are growing more than you should be, and far faster then normal. You are also becoming more intelligent. Both of those things are not done lightly. There is flesh and bone and muscle changing. I imagine it’s a feeling of tearing and ripping inside your body.”

I nodded mutely.

“Now I need to tell you what I know about receiving bloodlines. It will help you clear up some of your thoughts.”

My dad didn’t sit down. Instead, he paced. “There are two ways to get a bloodline. The commonly known way is to inherit it. Most people that don’t belong to bloodline families believe this is the only way to obtain one.”

“They’re called bloodlines because they are inherited from generation to generation. It’s not a guarantee, but many people have fostered families into grand houses that their power lives on after they die through virtue of a bloodline inheritor. It is impossible to give the bloodline to a person that has already been born. Only your descendants can inherit it.”

This was what Gerial had mentioned to me. When he’d said that our connection made us brothers. If a bloodline couldn’t be given outside of direct descendants, he must have thought we were related.

He turned to me. “I am a bloodline inheritor. It’s how I’m able to use the inscriber when nobody else can.”

Right. I remembered that. He’d mentioned it to me during our first symbol lesson. I hadn’t realised the importance of his statement at the time. I was starting to feel comfortable.

My dad would help me through this.

“The second method is kept a secret from all but the bloodline inheritors of each respective family.” My dad stopped. “You will need to keep this a secret, champ. Because you have your own bloodline, and because you are a potential inheritor of my bloodline, you would be a target.”

I nodded. I knew I had to keep this a secret.

“The only other way to inherit a bloodline is to be gifted it. Only the bloodline inheritors know what gifted their original bloodlines to them, and it is a household’s most guarded secret.”

My father looked at me. “I don’t know why, and I don’t know when, but you have directly received a bloodline. This is a good thing, but it comes with a lot of dangers.” My dad straightened his back. “Now it’s time to get to the bottom of this. This is where you come in. How did this happen?”

I looked at him blankly. I wasn’t sure how this had happened. I don’t remember anything putting a symbol inside of me. No. That’s not true.

During the first night I’d seen-

An eye stared at me.

-And for the first time I stared back.

A wave of emotions and thoughts clouded my mind. I had a bloodline. I was angry at the puffer. My dad wanted me to talk. I feel bad about the puffer. Where was my mother today? What is the cooldown timer of my Mark?

No. I don’t want to know any of these things.

I just want to remember you.

An eye stared at me, and it-

“I met something.” The details were growing fuzzier each second. “Something not human. It’s- hard to remember.”

“That’s alright champ, you’ve already told me what I needed to know.” My dad’s voice called out from beside me.

I nodded my head, and I felt my dad’s hand lift off my shoulder. When had he gotten there?

I looked around the room and saw that things had changed around me. There were papers strewn across the table in front of me, some flung to the far corners of the room, and on each one was a drawing of a single eye. It looked familiar to me.

“What is this?” I gestured at the papers.

It looked like my drawing style, but I couldn’t hold a pen.

“That is two hours of work and drawing.” My dad, freed from hugging me, tidied up the papers. “You said that you had to remember… and you kept saying it.”

His face was calm, and his voice was strong. Then as he went to pick up a paper, I saw his fingers trembling. He was scared.

“What was it?” I didn’t try to remember it again.

A feeling at the back of my mind told me that would be a bad idea. My dad finished collecting the papers. Then he turned to me.

“That was what gave you your bloodline.”

My father put the papers down in front of me.

“And it didn’t want you to see it watching.”