Chapter Two: The First Step
Amelia’s breath was uneven as she sat on the edge of her bed, her hands trembling in her lap. The glowing text still hovered before her eyes, waiting, expectant. She reached out instinctively, but her fingers brushed against nothing. The words remained, flickering slightly as if responding to her thoughts.
She took a slow, shuddering breath.
“This… this isn’t real,” she whispered, but her heart knew otherwise.
A system. A blessing—or a curse? It didn’t matter. It was hers.
She swallowed, willing herself to focus. The first thing she needed to do was understand. Her eyes traced the words again:
Name: Amelia Everwyn
Class: Healer
Level: 1
She hesitated. A healer. Of course, it had to be something gentle. Something passive. She had hoped—foolishly—that she might be something else. A warrior, perhaps. A rogue, slipping through the shadows unseen. But no.
Attributes:
Strength: 2
Agility: 3
Endurance: 4
Mana: 10
Faith: ???
Her fingers curled slightly. The numbers were low—laughably so. She had always known she was weaker than others, but seeing it so plainly written stung.
Still, there was one thing that stood out.
Faith: ???
A question mark? What did that mean? The other attributes were given numbers, but this one remained unknown. Why?
She exhaled slowly. No use dwelling on that now. There was more to look at.
Abilities Unlocked:
? Healing Touch (Basic): Restore minor injuries with a touch.
? Passive Regeneration: Wounds heal slightly faster over time.
Healing. The most basic and gentle of skills. It figured.
Amelia leaned back against the wooden wall, staring up at the ceiling. A small part of her whispered that this wasn’t a gift—it was just another joke played on her by the gods. They had given her power, but only enough to keep her weak. A healer could mend wounds, but they could not fight. They could not protect themselves.
And yet… it was still something.
Her hands clenched. She had spent her whole life wishing for more. This was her chance. She refused to let herself wallow in self-pity.
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She needed to understand more.
Amelia closed her eyes and focused. If this truly was a system, then there had to be a way to navigate it. The heroes in the old stories always had menus, ways to call up information. If she could just—
Status.
The text shifted immediately.
Status Menu
Name: Amelia Everwyn
Class: Healer (Basic)
Level: 1
Experience: 0/100
Attributes:
? Strength: 2
? Agility: 3
? Endurance: 4
? Mana: 10
? Faith: ???
Skills:
? Healing Touch (Basic) – Active
? Passive Regeneration – Passive
System Notes:
? Experience is gained through healing, aiding others, and personal growth.
? Skills can evolve based on repeated use and understanding.
? Hidden potential detected. Locked until further development.
Her pulse quickened.
Experience was gained through healing and aiding others. Not through combat. She bit her lip. If she wanted to grow stronger, she would have to embrace this path, whether she liked it or not.
But what did it mean by “hidden potential”? Was that the strange visions she had seen? That name—Barium—why had it felt so important? She pressed a hand to her temple. Thinking about it made her head ache.
Another thought struck her.
If this was a system, could it track others as well?
“Party,” she whispered hesitantly, recalling the old legends.
Nothing happened.
She frowned. “Scan?”
Still nothing.
Perhaps she was thinking too far ahead. If she was alone, it made sense that party mechanics wouldn’t be available to her yet.
She sighed, rubbing her temples.
Then a new thought emerged.
If she was a healer, she needed to understand how her abilities worked. And there was only one way to do that.
She had to test them.
Amelia sat up, her heart hammering. Was she really about to do this? Would it even work? If she failed, she might be stuck with an injury she couldn’t mend. But if she never tested it, she would never know.
She clenched her jaw.
No. She refused to be afraid. She had been powerless her whole life. Not anymore.
Moving with newfound resolve, she reached for the small knife she had hidden beneath her mattress. It was dull, more of a letter opener than a weapon, but it would do. Her fingers trembled slightly as she turned it in her palm, the metal cool against her skin.
She took a deep breath and pressed the blade against the soft flesh of her forearm.
A shallow cut. Just enough to draw blood.
She hesitated only for a moment.
Then, she pressed down.
A sharp sting lanced through her skin as crimson welled up. Pain flared, but she gritted her teeth. It wasn’t deep—she had made sure of that—but it was real.
She let out a shaky breath and focused.
Healing Touch.
Warmth flooded her fingertips. It was faint at first, a gentle tingling, but then she felt something more. A pull, as though the very essence of life was shifting within her. The wound beneath her touch began to glow softly, the pain fading as the skin slowly knitted itself back together.
She watched, transfixed, as the cut sealed completely within seconds, leaving only the faintest trace of where it had been.
Amelia gasped.
She had done it.
She had healed herself.
Her hands shook as she stared down at them. She felt drained, as if something inside her had been used up. But at the same time, there was an undeniable thrill coursing through her veins.
For the first time in her life, she had power.
Real power.
Not the kind her sisters wielded with their beauty. Not the kind her father commanded with his wealth and influence.
This was hers.
And it was only the beginning.