Ignition An Interactive Quest - Chapter 1 Morning Blaze Mavon

“And as the Seventh Sun shall rise, so shall it lift the spirit of man.”

It started with a light.

On the shattered world of Mongrath, its floating continents revolved around an imposing sea of greyish fog called the Endless Mists.

Seven suns surrounded this mystical collection of floating lands. Each orbited Mongrath on their own predetermined pattern. Each gifted every member of a particular race the strength to fight against the Mist Monsters that threatened to devour their broken lands.

The Seventh nourished man, and thus man worshipped the Seventh.

It was said that the Seventh Sun not only helped the race of man in their time of need. It had actually spawned their entire race, birthing them from its own radiant flesh.

Therefore, many cults revered the Seventh as the origin of their race. No matter what humans thought about their patron sun, no one dared to utter a single curse upon the glowing orb that granted them warmth, light, and above all, strength.

Kinore of Caressing Joy worryingly gazed at her brother as he slipped aside his rough yellow tunic. As a young man of the house, it fell on him to learn the Ways of Combat and contribute to the defense of their village.

Both the brother and sister shared a strong physical resemblance. Their hair looked a black as the night, and their eyes shone like the bluest stars. They had both reached their early adolescence which caused them to diverge in growth.

Mavon possessed a lean but robust body that towered over his sister. His sun-tanned skin gave him an unsophisticated look, but the will burning in his radiant blue eyes easily set him apart from the farmer boys who toiled in the fields all day.

As for Kinore, her slim and gentle appearance made it clear she led a life of comfort. Even though she took up the traditional household tasks like cooking and cleaning, her hands showed none of the calluses that marred the hands of the other aunties in the village. The only thing that marred her homespun beauty was her roughly patched dress.

“Brother, do you really have to take this path? The priest has always said that when the ritual goes wrong, you risk turning into a Light Scourged.”

“Have faith in me, sister. I am not that weak.” Mavon of Rippling Joy resolutely replied. “The people who have descended into madness have been judged by the Seventh, and found their will to be lacking. I won’t fall short like that. Not when our mother and father shines upon us!”

Mavon stood in front of the door of their shack, half-naked and ready to face the morning Sun. As a man who began with nothing, his dutiful service in the chapel in the center of the village had blessed him with the Spark of Kindlehearth Flame.

This gentle-sounding blessing elevated him among the ranks of the village boys, and provided him with a path to glory.

He only had to pay a price.

“Brother, I”

“Hush now, Kinore. This is the Way that calls out to me. I can feel it in my bones. My Spark requires rekindling and embracing the Seventh on the Morning Blaze is the only way I can help it grow stronger.”

He refused to entertain any further objections from her sister and unlatched the door. Different from the worn and and inexpensive furniture from the shack, the door looked as solid as a city’s gate. Their parents spent an entire gold coin to affix this solid door to their home!

Once Mavon unbolted the door, he turned his head to check whether his sister hadn’t approached. The last thing he wanted to see was his sister getting touched by the Sun that nourished their race.

“Stay here and don’t come out until the Morning Blaze is over.”

“I know, brother!”

After casting his senses to the candle-like Spark that took up residence in his heart, Maven bravely opened the door and stepped out even as the first rays started to fray at his skin.

“I am a Lightbearer! As the Seventh embraces my body, so shall I embrace its purifying rays!”

Mavon took several steps forward until he reached the middle of the dirt path that made up their street. He learned his lesson from the previous times when his sister refused to sit still and tried to rescue him in misguided sympathy.

The Morning Glory was no punishment. The first rays of the Seventh to touch their continent consisted of the purest light of all.

It cleansed the mind.

It purified the body.

It polished the soul.

All in the most painful way possible, because the Seventh did not bestow its blessings without a price.

“AAAAAHHHHH!”

Mavon failed to hold in his agony, despite his resolve to spare the village of his screams. Every villager who woke to worship the Seventh inside the comfort of their fully-enclosed shacks and houses ignored his soul-stirring screams as best they could.

They had lots of practice to tune out the heart-wrenching screams.

As the Seventh slowly rose to the skies, Mavon continued to shout unendingly. He stopped feeling shameful about his undignified display as every conscious thought made way for endless pain.

This ritual continued on for two sandglasses of time. Once the hot rays of the Seventh turned into the welcoming glow of yellow morning, Kinore instantly kicked open the door and frantically knelt besides her brother.

“Mavon! Haven’t you suffered enough? Why must you continue with this tortuous practice?!”

“Because it is the only path I can take if I want to catch up to the city dwellers!” The brother spat as he struggled to sit up. “Even if my chosen Way is the most demanding one, it’s also the most equal one. The Seventh doesn’t play favors with any of his children. We are all equals in his eyes.”

Kinore sensed a sharp edge in his voice. She felt a little reproached by his acidic conviction. “I don’t know why I have my Spark. I would have gladly given it up to you if it saves you from this daily struggle!”

“Don’t say that, sister!” Mavon urged as he found the strength to sit up. He took his sister’s gentle hands in his own sunburned pairs. “You are the most precious woman in the world to me. I will gladly endure the Seventh’s harshest radiance until I my hair grows grey and my teeth fall off. You are blessed by one of the Forgotten Stars and it is your gift to enjoy.”

She shook her head, tears starting to well up in her eyes. “Oh brother. I don’t care about our Sparks. Can we not be like Farmer Nelius, who can make the crops bloom and sing, or Poultice Master Swansa, who can make medicine out of weeds?”

“Every village has its farmers and medicine makers. How will that help when the Mist Monsters ascend from the Endless Mists and try to take away our lands? What can a crop singer do against the Light Scourged who seek to destroy us out of jealousy?”

“There are others who fight on our behalf. The village has its own militia already!”

Mavon huffed. By now, he regained enough strength to climb up to his feet. “Militia? That’s generous of you, sister. I won’t call ten farm boys led by an aging man-at-arms a militia. As for the knight that takes up the mansion, I’ve never seen him take up arms ever since they moved in four cycles ago.”

“My father is not to be trifled with, flagellant.” A young man’s voice uttered from the end of the street.

Mavon’s lips curled downwards as his least favorite person walked over in his direction. He turned around to behold the well-dressed boy.

Unlike every other man in the village, the teenager wore a tight-fitting set of leather armor that made him look more dashing. His tunic emblazoned with the heraldry of his House marked him as a noble-born son.

“Larand of House Mistcleaving Axe. So good of you to join us peasants in the morning.”

The young man named Larand smirked at Mavon’s quip. “I like to think there is joy to be found in every morning under the grace of the Seventh. Peasant or noble, it matters not our station, as the Seventh is fair to us all.”

While Mavon turned befuddled at Larand’s words, Kinore picked up the hidden snide in that remark. She sharply stepped forward and held out a hand to halt them both.

“Stop arguing, please! Larand, Mavon is my brother. I love him for all my life, so please be more considerate with your words.”

Larand blinked at Kinore. He stared at her for a moment before bowing in respect at her. “As you say, milady. It would not do for me to grow afoul of my future brother-in-law. Ah, I just remembered that our tutor awaits you at the manor.”

“He did?” Kinore’s strong eyebrows furrowed at the words. “I thought we had no lessons for today.”

“Nothing is ever fixed except for the paths of the Seven Suns. Our tutor is far from matching their prowess. All I am aware of is that he urgently demands your presence in the morn.”

“Ah, but I am not prepared!” Kinore panicked as she beheld her roughspun dress. The amount of patches in it surpassed its original burlap brown surface. “I will have to change my clothes immediately!”

The young woman quickly turned around and ran back into the shack before closing it. Just to be certain, she also latched all of the bolts and locked them tightly.

As for the two men, they stared at each other like rival creatures eying the same prey. Eventually, Larand closed his eyes and hummed a melodic tune.

Mavon recognized it as an element related to Larand’s Spark, so he quickly raised his fists.

The blow never came.

After finishing his hum, Larand opened his eyes and smirked at what he considered to be a simple lad. “I am just enjoying the morning sun, same as you. There is no reason to be on your guard. After all, we will soon be family.”

“Why must my sister be shackled to you?”

“Oh, you wound me! What do you accuse me of? It is not I that suggested this betrothal, but it is my father to pulled all the strings! You can’t expect your sister to marry to an ignorant farmer with a Spark like that? She is blessed by the Stars. Her stature is set in stone since her birth. A Star may only fit another Star.”

Hearing those words unsettled Mavon’s heart. Everyone, from the lowest peasants to the mightiest kings believed their Sparks determined their station in life. Those who carried so-called lowborn Sparks would almost never be able to develop them to a formidable amount of strength.

That was because they had never been born with a Spark. They had to acquire one themselves according to the pattern of their childhood growth. Those who grew up on the farm acquired Sparks related to farming, while those who helped out at a tailor’s shop would receive a Spark related to working with cloth.

Mavon on the other hand had faced the harshest rays of the Seventh Sun in order to acquire his own Spark of Kindlehearth Flame.

The next step up to lowborn Sparks consisted of those that had been blessed by one of the many Stars in the skies. Those lucky few who received these generous gifts took up the moniker of Starblessed, for they had literally been empowered by the Stars themselves.

Their Sparks always offered mystical powers and wondrous feats. Most particular of all, these inborn Sparks would often be passed down from father to son, from mother to daughter. Thus the noble Houses came to be.

As the heir to a landed knight, Larand had inherited his father’s Spark. Almost every male descendant of House Mistcleaving Axe shared the same Starblessed Spark.

Yet if Larand married a lowborn woman, any daughters she bore would lack an inborn Spark. Such a disastrously humiliating event always led to shame and ridicule for the entire House.

This was why the nobles tried to marry among themselves as much as possible.

However, a staid noble family that has deeply intermarried with the same local Starblessed Houses required an occasional infusion of fresh blood. Noble Houses that failed to heed the warnings eventually lost the blessings of their Stars.

To offend the Stars to the point where they withheld their blessings upon the offspring of the House in question was the highest offence of all. Many Houses that have gone astray had been torn apart by their erstwhile allies once this became known.

These fundamental rules that governed Sparks also complicated Mavon and Kinore’s lineage. Some of the villagers whispered that Mavon and Kinore had been birthed by noble mother and a peasant father.

They were twins, in fact.

The noble Houses considered the birth of twins to be a gift of the Seventh Sun. Yet to birth a daughter with an inborn spark and a son without a blessing could bring disaster to the House of their parents.

The villagers therefore gossiped that the mother, who couldn’t bear to slay her son and daughter as custom demanded, and handed them off to the Joys, a normal peasant family.

Whenever Mavon caught those words, he grew so angry that he had to fight hard to restrain himself from clobbering those loudmouths. He could not believe the Joys had adopted them! As far as he knew, no House on this continent shared Kinore’s Spark.

The rumors had always placed a burden on Mavon. It bore down on him to such an extent that he bent his head in front of Larand. He could not maintain his dignity in front of a true Starblessed noble.

“You have nothing to fear.” Larand approached Mavon and patted his shoulder in a patronizing fashion. “I am fully capable of supporting you both. There is no need for you to devote the rest of your life to this tortuous Way. If you want, I can instruct our man-at-arms to teach you his Way of Combat.”

The peasant boy brushed off Larand’s hand. “I have no need of your charity. I know you are only offering this to earn my sister’s favor.”

“And is that a reason to reject my olive branch?”

“My Way is already set!”

After brushing off the noble’s son, Mavon walked away without retrieving the shirt he left behind in his shack. Half-naked and without sandals, he strode the dirt-trodden streets to the chapel in the center of the village. He barely passed the gates when the old but well-aged priest stopped brooming the tiles that led up to the chapel gates.

“Mavon! Your devotion to the Seventh is admirable, but you will turn into a Light Scourged at this rate!”

“I’m sorry, Priest Coron.” Mavon said sincerely. He hung down his head. “I lost my temper again. I can’t stand being on the same streets as Larand.”

The priest shook his head in a fatherly passion. “This is the seventh time this season. You must really begin to accept that the ways of society are not to be questioned. Stars attract Stars. This is an age-old tradition that has held our continent together against the relentless attacks of the Mist Monsters.”

“Can I?”

“Very well, you may borrow my clothes. You know where they are stored.”

“Thank you, Coron!”

Once Mavon changed into the elderly man’s clothes, he entered a small study that contained a few roughly-bound books and sat at the desk.

Coron entered a moment later, carrying a scroll that the boy had never seen before. The priest calmly sat at the other side of the desk and put the scroll on the desk.

“How is your skin?”

“It’s crispy and it hurts.”

“Good. You haven’t lost your feeling for pain.” The priest nodded in satisfaction. “Tell me, how long have you tempered your body, mind and soul in the Seventh’s Morning Blaze?”

The question took Mavon aback. “I don’t remember. Two cycles? Three?”

“And how fares your Spark?”

“My Spark of Kindlehearth Flame burns unendingly in my heart. It wills away the darkness and burns away the mist.”

Coron swatted Mavon’s head with his cane. “Stop exaggerating. Your Spark is barely strong enough to melt away the fog before your eyes. It is not meant to compliment your Way of Combat. Not yet. It is merely the foundation of your future direction. Only when the flame burns everlasting will it be ready to Ignite.”

“Am I finally ready to Ignite my Spark?!”

“Calm yourself!” Coron whacked his pupil with his cane yet again. “Igniting your Spark is a violent and dangerous ritual that will test your dedication to the Seventh. Even if you have passed the minimum threshold to Ignite your Spark, your body will burn apart if you fail to discipline your emotions!”

“I’m sorry, Coron. I have waited to Ignite my Spark for many Sunrises and Sunsets. My Spark of Kindlehearth Flame is of little help in my combat practice. The other farm boys constantly ridicule me for devoting myself in the Morning Blaze each day, only to gain the power to summon a single candle flame from my finger.”

Besides warming his heart and allowing him to start the stove without resorting to flint, his Spark truly offered little else. Many other Sparks provided more immediate effects, and if Mavon had chosen to adopt any other one, he’d be in much better shape in his spars against the other farm boys.

Coron leaned back in his chair and tapped his wrinkled finger against the scroll he set on the table. “Do you know what this is?”

“Is it does it contain the formulas for my next Spark?”

“Several, in fact. The Spark of Kindlehearth Flame is the most humble and most agonizing Spark to acquire. Compared to the Sparks that the city dwellers enjoy, yours will resign you to a life of complete devotion to the Seventh. Each time you miss a Morning Blaze, you weaken yourself. Once you miss an entire cycle of Morning Blazes at a time, your entire soul will shrivel into dust, denying you the Samsara that other souls await.”

“I know the risks. I am aware of the work and dedication I must put in this Spark.”

He knew that the rich people living in the cities in the center of the continent had access to much better formulas. They contained sophisticated recipes whereby anyone could acquire a strong Spark right out of the gate as long as they ingest the remnants of certain Mist Monsters.

As for Mavon, without wealth or patronage, the only formulas he could rely on to become a strong warrior was the most basic Lines of Sparks offered by the Church of the Seventh. Those who walked the Lines of Purification required no ingredients to strength but also simultaneously taint their bodies with the strength of the Mist.

Instead, the Lines that began with the Spark of Kindlehearth Flame sought to purify the aspirant with no other ingredient than the Seventh’s holy rays.

These options consisted of the most affordable Lines of the Church. Most aspirants remained stuck upon reaching the second Spark in their chosen Lines. Fewer made it through the third Spark, and only a handful of aspirants reached the fourth Spark on this continent.

Coron picked up the scroll and removed the strap before spreading it out on the table. “Mavon, your dedication to the Seventh is strong. Your Spark is stable enough to endure Ignition. While I dearly wish you take your time to strengthen your foundation, I am afraid you will not be able to delay. Therefore, I have decided to present you with the next formula.”

The boy eagerly tried to read the scroll, but he failed to recognize the letters. “Which Sparks can I choose from?”

“The Line of Purification offers several different Sparks for your first Ignition. They place particular emphasis on either your body, your mind or your soul. You must dedicate your practice to one of them and continue to purify your chosen aspect to the pinnacle. The more you Ignite down the Line of Purification, the more your aspect will resemble the strength of the Seventh.”

“Amazing.”

In legend, a human could ignite their Sparks up to ten times. Each time, they grew in strength and power. Those who ignited their Spark for the tenth time ascended into a Star into the sky, thereby becoming immortal and everlasting.

It was everyone’s ultimate goal to ascend into a Star.

As for becoming a Sun? No one dared to dream of such, including the most majestic emperors with the most powerful Sparks among their race.

“Mavon, let me explain to you the Sparks you may Ignite towards. I will give you two sandglasses of time to make your choice. It is best not to overthink your choice, for all of them offer the same level of benefits.”

Priest Coron proceeded to provide him with a brief description of the three Sparks. The old man had not been joking that each of the Sparks diverged in direction. This single choice would dictate Mavon’s path for the rest of his life.

After Coron finished his lecture, Mavon sat at the desk and silently weighed his options. Though he instinctively favored the Spark that strengthened his body, he could not readily dismiss the benefits of the other two Sparks. He wanted to be a warrior, but there were many ways to fight.

Two sandglasses of time quickly came to pass. Mavon dearly wished he’d receive more time to consider this momentous decision, but Coron had been right that he required no further thought. He already fixed his eyes on the Spark that called out to him the most.

“Your time is at an end.” Coron said as he bore his bright flaming eyes at Mavon. “What is your decision. Which Spark will you choose?”

“One more question, sir. Can I choose to go my own way?”

Coron carefully nodded, though his reluctance became clear. “You may, but you will have to embark in a perilous path of which the end is not clear. As you know, you have integrated the Spark of Kindlehearth Flame in your heart. You can only proceed forward with this Spark. If the pain of enduring the Morning Blaze becomes too much, you may abandon your Spark, but cease to adopt another Spark for the rest of your life.”

Those whose Sparks had been forcibly doused suffered pitiful lives. Mavon did not intend to forsake his Spark and live on his sister’s charity for the rest of his life.

“Then can I”

“No.” Coron firmly shut off that course. “I am obliged by the Church to halt you if you attempt to ignite a Spark other than what I’ve presented. It is not because the Church keeps the best to themselves, but it is because they are exceedingly perilous without the right preparations. A penniless orphan such as you will never be able to afford such treatment.”

The unfairness of his situation continued to depress Mavon’s mood. “I know I am not as fortunate as others, but I am more than determined to catch up with them through my own hard work.”

“That is the spirit. Hard work is essential to developing your Sparks. Many of the city dwellers you envy often remain stranded in their second or third Sparks despite choosing the most expensive and flamboyant ones. Do you know why? It is because they think that expensive ingredients allows them to skip the tedium.”

Mavon became convinced of Coron’s words. Though he felt it was a pity that the priest refused to elaborate on the Sparks that had been put out of his reach, he surmised that it might be better if he focused on the three at hand.

“I will grow strong if I dedicate myself to one of these Sparks, right?”

Coron waved his hand dismissively. “Strength is fleeting and can change from Sunrise to Sunset. I can assure you that these are the purest paths available.”

The time to make a decision had come. Mavon chose to pursue a path of strength, and the first step on his road to greatness was to ignite the Spark that best suited this goal.

“I am ready to make my choice. I choose”

A: Body – Spark of Invigorating Glow. Let the Invigorating Glow transform your body and harden it against the blows of your adversaries. Glow outwardly in order to fortify your allies, or Glow inwardly to raise your strength. The Invigorating Glow stands at the vanguard of any army, and forms into a miniature sun at crucial moments.

B: Mind – Spark of Cunning Flash. An idea comes with a Flash. The Cunning Flash quickens the mind and and accelerates your every action. Flash your cognition to become an intricate thinker, or Flash your adversaries to disorient their thoughts. Some say the Cunning Flash can unravel the secrets of magic.

C: Soul – Spark of Everburning Heat. Your Heat warms the heart and calms your soul. Expose your Heat to others to rally the spirits of your allies, or use it to nourish your soul into an extraordinary existence. A strong enough soul sees the truth of the broken world, and is able to bend the Mist Monsters to their will.