The dawn of Celeste’s seventh birthday rose with a hush.

  Before the ceremony, the Silver keep was filled with warmth and movement. Maids hummed as they placed ribbons across the windowsills. Guards and attendants offered brief but genuine congratulations as they passed her in the corridors. Even the stablehands paused their chores to give her a respectful nod and a quiet, "Happy birthday, young lady."

  Her morning began with kisses from Luna and a proud nod from Argo. Luke gave her a small bundle wrapped in cloth. It was carved wooden practice blade that he had made himself. Onyx, of course, gave her sweets he had smuggled out of the kitchens.

  Everyone had something to say.

  "Pick Fighter," Argo said. "The strength of the front line suits someone who doesn’t flinch."

  "Archer might be better," Luke suggested. "You have the eyes for precision."

  "Rogue is cooler," Onyx argued. "You’d look awesome leaping off rooftops and vanishing in smoke."

  Luna, smiling, only said, "Choose what feels right in your heart, my little star."

  They were all talking about the four basic combat classes: Fighter, Archer, Rogue, Mage. It was common knowledge. Those that want to pursue fighting in any form choose one of the four basic combat classes. Those that don’t like fighting, usually chooses a profession class. Fighter and Rogue were the most common in border territories. Mage was the rarest, especially among noble children who often lacked the latent affinity.

  But Celeste listened without agreeing, offering a small smile to each.

  Later that morning, the family traveled together down the winding forest road to the ceremonial hall. A small procession followed; retainers, household guards, and tutors. Though none drew attention away from the Silver family at its center.

  Celeste rode beside Luna in a carriage decorated with light silver filigree, her hands clasped in her lap, hair braided tightly down her back.

  "Once you receive your class," Argo said from his horse beside the carriage, "you’ll begin preparing for your future. Everything changes from this moment forward."

  "Have you thought about what you want to do?" Luna asked gently.

  Celeste turned to the window, watching the mist curl between trees. "I’ll decide after I see my class."

  "Reasonable," Luke said, riding just behind Argo. "You shouldn’t plan too far ahead without knowing your foundation."

  "I say go wild," Onyx grinned, lounging in the seat across from her. "No matter what it is, surprise everyone."

  Celeste smiled faintly.

  Today, the youngest child of House Silver would take her place before the Class Mirror.

  Mist curled around the forested cliffs of the Silver Barony, painting the world in soft grays and pale gold. The ceremonial hall of the keep was serene. Celeste stood before a polished looking glass the height of three men and as wide as a carriage. It sat in the heart of the keep’s ceremonial hall, surrounded by polished marble and flickering braziers. The surface shimmered, but no reflection was shown.

  She wore a simple white dress with silver stitching at the cuffs, her dark hair braided down her back by Luna’s careful hands. Her brothers stood beside their parents on the dais. Luke composed and formal in his cadet uniform, Onyx fidgeting in ceremonial blue.

  Argo stood with arms folded, unreadable.

  Luna’s hands were clasped before her heart.

  The priest stepped forward, voice echoing through the vaulted chamber. “Celeste Silver, daughter of House Silver. On this day, as the sun crosses the seventh circle, you shall place your hand upon the Class Mirror. In its light, your path will awaken.”

  Celeste nodded once.

  She stepped forward.

  The marble floor was cool beneath her feet. The hall held its breath.

  She placed her hand upon the surface.

  It rippled.

  Light burst across the glass like lightning through clouds.

  And her mind split open.

  Memories returned. Not as a trickle, but as a flood.

  The streets of Tokyo. The scream of metal. The white void. The goddess. A world named Serathal. The passive skills she selected. The goddess's blessing… or curse. Still haven’t decided if immortality is a blessing or curse. Only time will tell.

  Celeste gasped, but no one saw her stagger. The power of the mirror concealed the moment her past life slammed into the present.

  She straightened.

  If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  A soft chime echoed inside her head. A translucent screen bloomed before her eyes, visible only to her:

  Status Window

  Name: Celeste Silver

  Class: Mage

  Level: 1

  HP: ∞

  MP: 120

  Stats:

  ? STR – 10

  ? DEX – 10

  ? CON – ∞

  ? INT – 8

  ? WIS – 8

  ? LCK – 7

  Available Stat Points: 5

  Active Skills:

  ? Chain Lightning

  ? Lightning Cloak

  ? Heal

  ? Counter

  ? Sword Draw

  Passive Skills:

  ? Martial Master

  ? Strategist

  ? Immortality

  ? Lightning Aura

  ? Focus

  She stared at the screen. Her past life’s instincts returned like second nature.

  Hide Immortality, she commanded silently.

  The skill dimmed and vanished from the list.

  “Child,” the priest said, reverently now, “reveal your Status.”

  Celeste exhaled and gave the mental command.

  The Status Window shimmered into public view, projected by the Class Mirror for all to see. Gasps rang through the chamber as the golden lettering scrolled across the air.

  "Mage?" someone in the crowd muttered. "She chose Mage?"

  "But no one in the Silver line has ever been a Mage," another whispered.

  "I thought she’d go Fighter or Rogue..."

  The murmurs were laced with surprise, some with disapproval and others with intrigue, though clearly, many had expected something more traditional.

  But it wasn’t her class that stole the room.

  It was the skill choices.

  “Chain Lightning and Lightning Cloak,” murmured one of the noble retainers. “Those are high-output spells for someone who just awakened.”

  “She picked Counter and Sword Draw? Those aren’t even traditional mage skills,” said a steward in disbelief.

  “Those are skills used by duelists or weapon-based fighters,” Luke said, eyes narrowing. “Why would a Mage select those?”

  Argo’s arms folded more tightly. “Because she doesn’t intend to fight like other mages.”

  Luna’s brows knit together. “She picked Heal, a support skill, but every other skill is offensive or tactical… and the passives…”

  “Martial Master and Strategist,” Onyx said under his breath. “I understand Strategist, but why Martial Master?”

  Even the priest looked stunned.

  Celeste slowly turned from the mirror, her golden eyes glowing faintly.

  She remembered everything.

  And for the first time since her death, she knew exactly who she was.

  A storm was coming to Serathal.

  And she would be its blade.

  —

  The air outside the ceremonial hall was crisp and silent as the Silver family exited under escort, the murmurs of onlookers still trailing behind them like whispers in the mist. The carriage awaited them at the base of the stone steps, its silver accents glinting under the midday sun.

  Celeste climbed in last, settling between her parents with her brothers opposite. For a time, no one spoke.

  Then Celeste broke the silence. “I want to attend the Knight’s Crucible Academy. Once I reach level ten, I can evolve my class into something more powerful. I want to be ready when that time comes.”

  Argo raised an eyebrow. “Already decided?”

  “I think it’s the best place for me to grow. If I’m going to use this class the way I intend to… I need real training.”

  Luke nodded thoughtfully. “They’ll challenge you. Even more if they realize you're not a typical Mage.”

  Onyx grinned. “You just want to shock everyone with your Sword Draw.”

  Luna chuckled softly. “Then it seems the path begins sooner than we thought. Luckily they start accepting students at your age.”

  Then Luna reached for her hand.

  “You surprised everyone today,” she said gently.

  “I’m used to that,” Celeste replied, staring out the window.

  Luke broke the silence. “Counter and Sword Draw, for a Mage?”

  Celeste: “…”

  “It’s not a criticism,” Argo said, his voice low and even. “But it tells us a great deal. You don’t plan to fight from the backline.”

  Celeste shook her head. “I want to be close enough to protect others. If they fall, it won’t be because I was too far away to stop it.”

  Onyx raised a brow. “So you're going to be a frontline mage? That’s… awesome. And dangerous!”

  Luna smiled faintly, though concern lingered in her eyes. “You’ve always had a strong will. I only ask that you don’t forget the burden of the choices you make.”

  Celeste looked down at her hands. “I won’t. I chose these because they felt… right. I don’t want to rely only on magic or distance. I want to use everything I have.”

  Argo gave a firm nod. “Then we’ll train you accordingly.”

  Luke leaned back, arms crossed. “You’ll need to be faster, sharper. The academy won’t expect a mage who can parry a blade.”

  “I’ll be ready,” she said.

  Luna squeezed her hand. “Then whatever future you choose, we will walk it with you.”

  The carriage rumbled through the trees as birds stirred overhead and wind whispered through the canopy.

  Celeste sat quietly, the light of the sun warming her face. In her mind, the status window hovered still, hidden from view.

  Immortality.

  She had chosen to hide it. But it was there. It always would be.

  And with it, the path forward had only just begun.