# Chapter 1: Awakening Day
The morning sun cast long shadows across Green Bay High's ceremonial courtyard as Paul Grim adjusted his collar for the fifth time in ten minutes. Around him, seventeen-year-olds buzzed with nervous energy, their voices creating a symphony of anticipation and anxiety that he remembered all too well from his previous life—though then, it had been about book deadlines and rejection letters, not magical awakenings.
*Seventeen years,* Paul thought, watching his classmates pace and whisper prayers to whatever deities governed their fates. *Seventeen years since I opened my eyes in this world, and still, the memories of typing away in that cramped apartment feel more real than this moment.*
"Paul! Paul, over here!" Maya Chen waved him over to where she stood with their usual group. Her dark hair was braided with small silver charms that caught the light—a family tradition meant to bring luck during Awakening ceremonies. "Can you believe it's finally happening?"
Paul forced a smile and joined the cluster of students near the marble fountain. Marcus Webb, built like a linebacker but gentle as a lamb, was practically vibrating with excitement. "My dad says Strength Awakeners can lift cars on their first day," he said, flexing experimentally. "Imagine if I could do that by lunch!"
"My sister got Elemental Fire last year," added Zoe Hartwell, flames of pride dancing in her eyes. "She melted through three training dummies before they could teach her control."
Paul nodded along with their chatter, but his mind wandered. In his previous life, he'd written about moments like these—young heroes discovering their powers, the rush of potential, the bright promise of adventure. The irony wasn't lost on him that he'd spent forty-two years crafting fantasies about magic, only to die of brain cancer and wake up in a world where magic was as common as mathematics.
"What do you think you'll get, Paul?" Maya asked, genuine curiosity in her voice. "You're always so quiet about it."
*What do I think I'll get?* Paul almost laughed. He'd spent seventeen years wondering the same thing. Would his experience as a writer translate into something useful? Story Magic, perhaps? Illusion crafting? Or would the universe's cruel sense of humor give him something completely unrelated to his talents?
"I honestly don't know," he said, which was the truth. "I guess we'll find out."
The ceremony bell chimed across the courtyard—three deep, resonant notes that seemed to vibrate through the very ground. Principal Valdez, a stern woman whose own Awakening had granted her the ability to sense deception, stepped onto the raised platform at the courtyard's center. Behind her, the Awakening Stone hummed with contained energy, its crystalline surface shifting through colors that had no names.
"Students of Green Bay High," Principal Valdez's voice carried without amplification, another gift of her abilities. "Today, you step from childhood into your true selves. The Awakening Stone has served our community for three generations, and today, it will reveal the shape of your souls."
Paul's heart hammered as students began lining up in alphabetical order. The ceremony was simple in concept but profound in execution. Each student would place their hand on the Awakening Stone, and their Blessed Land would manifest—a pocket dimension that reflected their deepest nature and housed their supernatural abilities.
He watched as Anna Blackwood stepped forward first. The moment her palm touched the stone, reality seemed to fold around her. Where she stood, a miniature forest materialized—towering oaks and singing streams contained within a space no larger than a classroom. Nature Magic, rare and beautiful.
The crowd murmured approval as Anna stepped back, tears of joy streaming down her face. Her Blessed Land flickered and vanished, but Paul knew it hadn't disappeared—it had simply returned to the space between spaces, waiting for her call.
One by one, his classmates discovered their fates. Marcus did indeed receive a Strength-type Awakening, his Blessed Land manifesting as a gladiatorial arena complete with training equipment that seemed to hum with power-enhancing energy. Maya's realm appeared as a vast library with books that glowed and whispered secrets—Knowledge Magic, coveted by scholars worldwide.
With each successful Awakening, Paul's anxiety grew. Not because he feared failure, but because he feared... what? Success? The responsibility that came with power? Or perhaps because deep down, he worried that even in this magical world, he might still be mediocre.
"Paul Grim."
His name cut through his spiraling thoughts. The courtyard fell quiet as he walked toward the Awakening Stone, feeling hundreds of eyes tracking his movement. Up close, the stone was more beautiful than he'd imagined—veins of silver and gold ran through its surface like frozen lightning, and it radiated warmth that seemed to reach into his chest.
Principal Valdez nodded encouragingly. "Place your dominant hand on the stone and open your mind to possibility."
Paul took a breath and pressed his palm against the crystal surface.
The world exploded into grey.
Not darkness—grey. An endless expanse of neutral nothing that stretched in all directions. No sky, no ground, just an infinite void of potential that made his eyes water trying to focus on any single point. Murmurs arose from the crowd behind him, and he caught fragments of whispered words: "What is that?" "Is it broken?" "I've never seen anything like it."
Paul stared into his Blessed Land and felt... nothing. No surge of power, no sudden understanding of abilities. Just grey emptiness mocking his hopes.
*Of course,* he thought bitterly. *Even in a world of magic, I'm still the failed writer. My soul is apparently as empty as my old manuscript folder.*
But then something stirred within the grey. Not movement—there was nothing to move. Not sound—there was nothing to hear. It was more like... recognition. As if the emptiness was looking back at him and waiting.
Waiting for what?
The thought came unbidden: *What if this isn't emptiness? What if it's a blank page?*
Paul's breath caught. In his previous life, he'd stared at countless blank pages, cursed them, feared them, but also loved them for their infinite potential. A blank page could become anything—a love story, an epic adventure, a tragedy that made readers weep. The emptiness wasn't the end of possibility; it was the beginning of everything.
Almost without thinking, he whispered into the grey void of his Blessed Land: "Once upon a time, there was a shadow in the mist."
The grey rippled.
Somewhere in the distance—though distance meant nothing here—something dark and formless began to take shape. It moved like smoke given purpose, like a thought learning to breathe. Paul's heart raced as he realized what was happening.
He wasn't just creating a story. He was creating life.
The shadow-thing solidified into something resembling a wolf made of living darkness, its eyes twin points of silver fire. It padded through the grey expanse toward him, and Paul felt its presence in his mind—not hostile, but... waiting. Waiting for orders. Waiting for purpose. Waiting for its story to continue.
"Remarkable," Principal Valdez breathed beside him, and Paul realized he'd been standing there for several minutes, his hand still pressed to the stone. "I've never seen anything quite like this before."
Paul pulled his hand back, and his Blessed Land flickered out of view. But he could still feel it there, hovering just beyond perception. And within it, his shadow-wolf waited patiently for the next chapter of its existence.
The courtyard buzzed with confused whispers. Some students looked impressed, others puzzled, and a few seemed almost frightened. Paul couldn't blame them. He didn't fully understand what had just happened either.
But as he walked back to his place among his classmates, one thought burned bright in his mind: *In my last life, I wrote stories that no one wanted to read. In this life, I might write stories that reshape reality itself.*
The ceremony continued around him, but Paul barely noticed. His attention kept drifting inward, to that grey realm where creatures of story and shadow waited for his words. He'd spent forty-two years as a failed writer and seventeen years as an ordinary boy.
Today, Paul Grim had finally found his true calling: he was going to become the author of worlds.
The grey void in his soul wasn't empty after all. It was infinite.