The Evernon Saga - The Journey Of Ascension, A Struggle For Godhood.

It was just before the break of dawn, the roosters were crowing, and a young William opened his eyes and sat up in bed. He rubbed his eyes briefly, looked outside his window at the still-dark sky, and stood up. After a few quick, light stretches he dropped down to the floor and began his routine morning training he had made for himself. Shortly after waking up, a cycle of 30 pushups, 10 handstand pushups, 50 sit ups and 50 squats. This was done 5 times, followed by 30 mins of intense shadow-boxing and ended by practicing various kicks.

After that, William's blood would be pumping, his muscles and brain awake, and he would then be ready to start his day. He took a quick look in the mirror, and rubbed his chin, frowning. The peach fuzz that had begun to develop over the past year or two had started to thicken into rough stubble, which annoyed William, because he liked the softness of the peach fuzz. But life goes on, and at the age of 14, it was only going to get worse from here.

The beard, not life.

William jogged to a lake just outside the village, and took a freezing bath in it. He thought that this would hone his willpower and tolerance towards the cold, and thus did so every morning. After finishing up by washing his jaw-length blonde hair, he flipped it back and walked back to the village shirtless, which was coincidentally around the time when people who woke up earlier than others would wake up. With his height of 1.6m, a developed, lean, yet balanced physique for his age, combined with his broad shoulders, charismatic air and handsome face, William was a sight to behold for the many ladies of his village. He was known as the 'darling' of the village. Some of the ladies actually made it a habit to wake up earlier just to admire William as he walked by in the morning, glistening with the water from the lake.

The village was called Birkstead, as stated on the large sign William walked by to enter the village. it was a relatively poor seaside village at the very north of Nashya, along the coast. William's house was very close to the docks, just 2 houses away. Magnar lived closer to the town center, around a 10 minute walk away from William. The lake was outside, on the side of the village that was opposite of the docks, essentially making William walk through the whole village's length to get to the lake and to return home. But the young ladies of Birkstead weren't complaining. By the time he reached home, the sun had risen, and most of Birkstead's inhabitants were awake and about. William changed into a fresh set of clothes, a sky-blue woolen shirt and steel blue shorts, which were their color due to being washed out. William went down the stairs to the living area and the kitchen, greeting his parents.

William had previously left and always leaves through his window on the 2nd floor, jumping down and hitting the ground while rolling to break his fall.

William's mother, Catherine, was frying some eggs and cuts of meat from the butcher, while his little sister Abberline, of age 7, was sitting dejectedly on a chair. She had butter, but no bread. William's father, Jonathan, cleared his throat while looking at him while Catherine shot him a look, and he mentally facepalmed.

"Ah, I forgot the bread!" he lamented.

Bolting out the door, William slipped on some worn leather shoes of his and sprinted to the local and only bakery of the village. It was run by a married couple, George and Martha, who had entertained his childhood antics throughout the years with smiles on their faces.

While running, William saw Magnar's house, and that his window on the 2nd floor was open. With a grin, he jumped up and grabbed the windowsill with one hand, then the other, and pulled himself up, peeking into Magnar's room. The sight that met his eyes was Magnar, red in the face, lifting a sizeable anvil. All his muscles were bulging and had veins popping out. For a 15 year old, Magnar was impressive, with a height of 1.75m, he was already almost the height of a grown man, and had a very respectable amount of muscle on his frame, with powerful legs that resembled that of a bull in its prime, a back as thick and wide as a brick wall, and a c.h.e.s.t like armor plates. Despite all this, Magnar was just barely staying on his feet with such a big anvil.

Not wanting to break his concentration and cause an injury, William jumped back down, and purchased several loaves of freshly baked bread as well as a bun from the bakery. As William was passing by, he jumped up and left the still-warm bun on Magnar's windowsill, and continued on home in hopes of there being some breakfast leftover. The whole trip was done in under 10 minutes.

Just in the nick of time, Catherine was plating the fried eggs, sunny-side up, and the meat on a platter, straight from the pan. The eggs were shiny and had browned edges, suggesting crispiness that would satisfy their taste buds. The meat was slightly charred on the outside and prepared with herbs that released a mouth watering aroma that wafted all across the room, and yet it still had a layer of juice on it, hinting at the tender, juicy flesh within. The tantalizing aroma was enough to lift everyone's spirits and mood, as their mouths filled with saliva. Abberline happily buttered some slices of bread and distributed them around. The family ate merrily and well. After breakfast, William was about to go meet up with his gang of boys and girls to play various battle and war games, or simply to train in a group, when Catherine stopped him at the door.

"William, we're having fish for lunch. I went to the fish market at the docks this morning while you were out forgetting to buy bread."

William physically cringed.

"While I was there, a nice fisherman named Joseph said he needed a helping hand or two since he's getting old and asked if I knew any good candidates. Being the absolutely wonderful mother I am," upon which she glared at William, "I volunteered you for the job. Feel free to bring along a friend, Joseph recommended it. You start tomorrow at dawn." said Catherine and she waved and waltzed out the door. William was left frozen on the spot whilst Abberline and Jonathan chuckled.

William basically limped out the door, slowly heading at his own defeated pace towards his usual rendezvous spot with the others. In a couple minutes, he arrived to see a group of 19, Magnar included, staring at him.

"Finally! He's here!", one yelled.

"Guys, Prince William has gotten out of bed!", another hollered.

"Prince Sleepyhead!", they cheered in unison.

"Prince Sleepyhead!"

"Prince Sleepyhead!"

...

After the initial wave of ridicule, they all trained and sparred together or played war games. It was business as usual. The majority of the group were of the ages 13 and 14, and were Level 6 and 7, as kids usually only start to gain Experience from the age of 5. However, William and Magnar had started as early as after their first year and second year respectively, showing great talent, especially in William's case. Magnar and William were currently Level 13 and 14 respectively.

William then checked his status at the end of the day:

Name: William

Age: 14

Level: 14

Experience: 3.4%

Health: 1,000/1,050 [Slightly injured]

Mana: 680/700 (Mildly Fatigued)

Tier: 0

- Attributes -

Strength: 21

Agility: 25

Intellect: 20

Luck: 1

William thought it looked pretty alright, but the problem was that he had only gained 1% of Experience per week in the last 3 weeks! He was basically crawling at a snail's pace, which perturbed him greatly. He would technically need almost 2 years to Level Up again, which was painfully slow.

"Hey Mag, what are your attributes like? In order of Strength, Agility, and Intellect "

"Uh...29, 13, and 10."

"Oh my, no wonder the others don't like to spar with you!"

Such monstrous strength at this age wasn't normal, even if he wasn't as fast as William. If anything, Magnar was a prodigy when it came to strength at the very least. Combined with his exceptional battle sense and instincts, Magnar didn't necessarily need much Intellect since his adaptability during a fight was remarkable. William walked up in front of him and put his right hand on Magnar's left shoulder, gazing into his eyes intensely, with a burning passion. Magnar was very puzzled by this action.

"What's the matter? Why are you asking, Willy?"

"About that, Mag. We're brothers right?"

"Yea."

"You'll help me with things I need help with right?"

"I guess so."

"Go to work with me."

...

"What? I don't get the joke, Willy."

With a metaphorical tear making its way down William's cheek, he sorrowfully declared,

"It's not a joke Mag. My mother got me a job at the docks, starting tomorrow, and I need your help."

"I...but.."

"You're the only one that can help me, brother..."

Upon hearing this, Magnar's eyes widened. His expression then changed into one as hard as steel, with fires of determination burning in his eyes.

With enough resolve to bring one to tears, Magnar said, "Alright, I'll think about it", as he clenched his fists tightly, feeling warm and pleasant from being relied on.

William was moved by this, as his attempt to drag Magnar down with him was foiled, but still somewhat successful due to his sheer kindness. He hugged Magnar, who hugged him back tightly too.

"Thanks, Mag. I'm glad that I'm able to call you my brother."

...

"You guys are weird!" yelled a girl.

"What are you guys going to do next? Get married?" hollered the group.

Simultaneously, the two non-newlyweds shouted,

"Shut up!"

This lead to the group freezing, looking at each-other, and then bursting into laughter.

William and Magnar looked awkwardly at each-other and then began to brawl. Meanwhile, some of the other kids in their gang were on their knees, howling and rolling around on the ground. One thing was for sure, aside from the William and Magnar, everyone else in the gang had to hold their abdomens due to the pain of uncontrollable laughter.

However, soon the group realized that the two 'lovebirds' were serious in their current battle. Their serious facial expressions, and the power the others could hear and even vaguely feel behind the wind from their blows, were not those of a friendly scuffle. They were truly going at it.

Magnar's wide, reckless swings weren't the fastest, but the wind they generated was enough to move the hair and clothes of the group, who were standing 10 meters away.

William, on the other hand, was calm and methodical in his actions. He would dodge or deflect Magnar's punches with his hands, forearms, or elbows, whilst simultaneously launching a counterattack. He moved smoothly and fluidly, but with a strength that wasn't to be doubted.

Magnar used large, powerful movements and attacks, whereas William utilized well-timed dodges and counters. Palm strikes, jabs, chops, elbow strikes, all precise, quick movements were all part of William's arsenal, used calmly and calculatedly to their fullest potential to avoid the disaster of taking the full brunt of Magnar's punches, and to slowly whittle down an opponent that he could not fight head-on. In this fight, neither moved a step forwards or backwards. Not a single inch of ground was given or taken. This was literally, a fight to a standstill.

One was violent, powerful, and relentless. The other was serene, precise and swift. The description of their fighting styles could be expressed in the form of images. Magnar would be like the waves of a raging tsunami laying waste to all in its path with brute force, and William would be a fast flowing river, one who fluidly weaves and flows past blows and obstacles whilst gradually wearing their opponent down. Both were powerful in their own ways, and neither were to be underestimated. Of course, not all attacks from Magnar were dodged by William, he was only human, after all. Once in a while he would take a hit from Magnar, but would twist or move his body in such a way that the force would be dampened. He attempted to do what Magnar could do instinctively at the age of 7, succeeding partially. But such fearsome strength couldn't be negated that easily.

After a solid 30 minutes of all-out brawling, Magnar and William stopped fighting simultaneously.

"You're very serious, Willy.", said Magnar solemnly, heaving in slow, deep breaths.

"Yes Mag, I'm telling the truth", gasped William in between rapid breaths.

"...If you're so serious, I'll go", declared Magnar.

"Really? I knew I could rely on you!", shouted William excitedly as he slapped Magnar on the back.

The fired-up crowd that had been watching their brawl, composed of their usual 'gang' members and some passing youths, paused upon realizing that such a seemingly intense conflict was resolved in a matter of moments, and a few sentences. Those who didn't know the cause of the duel, and had come to watch halfway through, asked tentatively,

"Hey, why were you two fighting in the first place? Where are you going to go that requires such a fuss while deciding? Somewhere dangerous?"

"To work." replied William and Magnar simultaneously.

The crowd froze. After a few silent, awkward seconds that seemed to last eternities, the whispering crowd dispersed. They were embarrassed for getting so hyped up over such an amazing fight that ended up being because of such a trivial matter.

"It's not THAT bad that we fought, is it Mag?", asked William.

He looked over and saw that Magnar had facepalmed, and was blushing furiously, his ears beet-red. He then g.r.o.a.n.e.d and walked off dejectedly, an almost visible aura of pure regret hovering around him.

"Mag...where are you going? Mag?!"

William was left standing alone on the grassy field, as the sun was directly overhead, spreading the sweltering heat of a cloudless noon.

For the first time in his life, the lone William began to seriously consider getting a girlfriend.