Awakening in The World of Gods

Poll's eyes fluttered open, his vision hazy. The faint rustling of leaves above him and the earthy scent of the forest slowly brought him back to reality. His body felt heavy, his limbs weighed down as if they'd been through a war.

Am I… dead again? he thought, his mind struggling to piece together the last moments.

"Poll! You're awake!" a familiar voice cried out, trembling with relief. Elowen was by his side, her hands gently resting on his arm. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Don't push yourself. You're injured—badly."

Poll's thoughts swirled, trying to make sense of the situation. Injured? How? What—? Then it hit him like a crashing wave. The battle. The nightwolves. The spell.

His gaze fell to his hand, now wrapped tightly in layers of bandages, faint traces of mana still flickering around it. The sharp sting of pain brought clarity to his mind.

"What the heck…" Poll murmured, flexing his fingers only to wince. "What happened to my hand?" His memories began to resurface, jagged and chaotic. "Oh, right. I used… that spell." His voice trailed off as the weight of his reckless action settled over him.

The realization made his heart sink. He had wielded magic far beyond his current control—and without a staff to stabilize it. "Ahhh…!" he hissed, clenching his teeth. "I really have to be more careful…"

A soft yet stern voice cut through the haze of his thoughts. "You're absolutely right, Poll." He turned to see his mother, Seraphina, sitting close by, her usually calm demeanor edged with worry. Her hands were clasped tightly together, as though trying to keep herself from trembling.

She leaned forward, her eyes meeting his. "I told you not to do anything dangerous. I warned you." Her voice cracked slightly, betraying her fear. "You could've—" She stopped, swallowing her words.

Poll's chest tightened at the sight of her. The relief in her eyes couldn't mask the fear she had clearly endured. "I'm sorry, Mother," he said softly, his voice filled with regret.

Seraphina exhaled shakily and reached out, brushing a strand of hair from his face. "You're here. You're alive. That's all that matters right now." Her lips trembled into a faint smile, though her eyes remained misty. "Just rest, Poll. Please."

Poll's throat tightened, guilt washing over him. He hadn't meant to scare her—to scare any of them. But seeing her like this drove home the weight of his actions

[Downstairs – Secrets in the Lantern Light]

The soft glow of evening lanterns bathed the dining room in a warm light. Eryndor sat at the table, his hands steepled and his expression grim. Seraphina joined him, her worry etched into every line of her face.

"I never expected this…" Eryndor muttered, breaking the heavy silence. "What Poll did out there—Seraphina, that wasn't just magic. It was…something else. Arch-class magic, maybe even beyond that."

Seraphina nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line. "He's just a child, Eryndor. He shouldn't be capable of anything near that level. And yet…"

Eryndor sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "He's been reading a lot. Some of those old texts I thought were just theory, maybe he's found something more in them. But even so…to unleash that kind of force without training? It's like giving a toddler a siege engine."

Seraphina raised an eyebrow. "You're calling our son a siege engine now?"

Eryndor gave her a tired look. "A small, chaotic, and very loud one, yes."

The tension broke for a moment as Seraphina chuckled softly. But her smile faded quickly. "We can't let anyone find out about this. If the guild or the military gets wind of what Poll can do…" Her eyes hardened with resolve. "They'll come for him. They'll try to control him, turn him into some kind of weapon."

Eryndor leaned forward, his voice low and serious. "Which is why we have to keep this quiet. No one outside this house can know what happened. Not the guild, not the higher-ups, no one."

As he spoke, the sound of shuffling feet drew their attention. Standing in the doorway were Kaida, Lira, and Elowen, their expressions solemn.

Eryndor narrowed his eyes slightly. "You three. You've seen what Poll can do, and you understand what's at stake. This stays between us. If word gets out, it could put him in danger—more danger than any of us can handle."

Kaida crossed her arms, nodding firmly. "Got it. I don't like politics anyway. Too much talking, not enough action."

Lira grinned nervously, scratching the back of her head. "No worries, Mr. Nightvale. I'm great at keeping secrets. Like the time I accidentally blew up the library's mana lamp. No one ever found out!"

Eryndor raised an eyebrow. "Wait, you did that?"

Lira froze. "Uh…forget I said anything!"

Elowen sighed, placing a hand on Lira's shoulder. "We'll be careful. You have our word."

Eryndor nodded, his stern gaze softening. "Good. Because if this gets out, we're not just protecting Poll—we're protecting everyone he cares about."

Kaida smirked, breaking the heavy mood a little. "Don't worry, we've got this. And besides…" She glanced toward the stairs. "Someone has to keep that little troublemaker in line."

Seraphina chuckled softly. "Indeed. Though sometimes I wonder who's keeping whom in line."

[Upstairs – A Quiet Resolve]

Back in his room, Poll lay sprawled on the bed, his eyes half-closed as the muffled voices from downstairs filtered through the floorboards. His body screamed for rest, but his mind buzzed with thoughts that refused to settle.

I need to get stronger. The idea twisted in his head like a thorn. I won't be the weak link—the one everyone has to shield. If what I did today was dangerous, then fine. I'll figure out how to control it.

His gaze drifted to his bandaged hand, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips despite the ache. Power like that doesn't just happen. There's potential here. I just need to stop winging it like an idiot. No more accidents—only precision.

He flexed his fingers experimentally, feeling the dull throb beneath the bandages. They're worried now, but I'll show them what I'm capable of. For my family… sure. But mostly for me. I'll master this power. And when I do, no one— his thoughts darkened briefly, remembering the corrupted pack leader —not even mana corruption, will stand in my way.

With that, he exhaled deeply, his body finally conceding to sleep. His dreams flickered with visions of glowing runes, swirling mana, and an endless maze of possibilities—each more chaotic than the last. But amidst the storm, Poll's resolve burned steady, a beacon in the chaos. I'll figure it out. One way or another.