The Gift of Vitality and The Gift of Recollection was something Niall had come to realize worked passively.
After all, in the case of the former, he hadn’t eaten or drank a single thing throughout yesterday and here he was, perfectly satiated.
Sure, he’d eaten a bowl of cereal earlier this morning but, considering he’d practically gone horseback riding roughly two to three hours ago, it was even more jarring that he felt refreshed and wasn’t rummaging through the kitchen for food like his old man currently was.
Still, Niall couldn’t help but feel that this was just the tip of the iceberg regarding what the gift was actually capable of.
As for the latter, well it spoke for itself.
From the moment he’d been able to accurately state the exact time, date and place to the celestial star for his regression without missing a beat, he’d known it was already in effect.
The fact that he could also remember everything from the future leading up to his decline as an actor in Hollywood like it was yesterday, was an even better indicator of its effects.
As for the other two...
’So uh, how do I do this?’ Niall wondered, a curious expression on his features.
’I guess, I just think about it?’ he inwardly remarked with a thoughtful tap on the chin.
No sooner had that thought process registered, the young man felt something intrinsic trigger within him and suddenly, a strange phenomenon presented itself.
A certain aura... wisp-like trails of diamond-colored hues to be specific, continuously began to emanate from him.
That in itself was already intriguing to Niall. But then he noticed something just as, if not more intriguing a few seconds later.
Catching it from the mirror just opposite of where he was seated, Niall slowly stood up from the chair and made his way towards his reflection with a genuine mixture of curious amazement.
There, hovering above his head akin to a ringed planet, were three, slowly revolving icons.
One was a film slate, the second was a slanted fountain pen, and the third was shrouded in a fog of sorts with a question mark icon.
But more curious than that, was the structural make-up of the icons.
The film slate was silver-framed, the fountain pen similarly silver-framed, while the shrouded icon in question mark remained colorless.
Niall felt it instinctively and intuitively.
The aura emanating from him was a measure of his potential... or his talent, as some may put it.
The icons hovering above his head signified the skills he currently had, and was yet to have.
The structural frames of the icons themselves indicated their current grade.
With that, a coherent grading system naturally spawned into his thought process.
Diamond was the highest grade, followed by platinum, then gold, silver and finally, bronze which indicated the lowest grade.
Simultaneously, Niall intuitively interpreted them as Phenomenal, Excellent, Great, Good and Okay, respectively.
Brushing his hands through the icons, Niall watched as they relocated in a blink, hovering over his palms instead.
It was so weird yet so extraordinary. The icons felt tangible yet intangible at the same time, and for a few seconds, Niall simply messed with them like a kid who’d just been gifted a new toy.
Seemingly having had enough fun, the young man casually dismissed them.
Yet, once again, a new realization presented itself.
Around his room were a couple books he’d gotten over the years. And at the moment, with his Gift of Discernment still active, each individual book lit up in different hues.
Some assumed a bronze shade, others a mixed balance of bronze and silver, while the rest took on a solid, silver hue, with only a few occasionally having hues of gold.
The implications of the knowledge he’d just stumbled upon went without saying and an amazed grin slowly spread across his face.
That said, with The Gift of Discernment figured out, Niall’s mind soon shifted to the Gift of True Aptitude.
No sooner had he done that, a profound sense of calmness washed over him.
Suddenly, all the neurons in his brain and the rest of his body felt like they were being fired in a controlled, steady state.
His mind became crystal clear, and his thoughts began to flow in a synergistic yet equally controlled state that meshed with every single fiber of his body.
Simply put, Niall had entered a supernatural flow state.
’Ah...’ he mused.
’So, this is how it works,’ the words echoed within the confines of his mind.
Then, with a relaxed smile, he dismissed both gifts at the same time.
Feeling rather chuffed, Niall fell backwards onto his bed, a delighted smile playing on his lips.
However, recalling something he’d yet to check, he mentally urged and instantly, he felt in within his palms.
Raising the orb containing the celestial energy for his last wish, the etherealness of it reflected in his cool-gray irises, Niall mentally dismissed it and just as it had come, it vanished in an instant.
Letting out a deep, appreciative and equally contented sigh, Niall soon rose up from the bed, his thoughts shifting.
Now it was time for him to structure his plans going forward.
First off, he needed to break free of Callow and his agency.
To do that, he needed a whole lot of funds. Afterall, as per the clause stipulated in his contract, he could terminate it at a moment’s notice as long as he could cover the costs.
Secondly, he needed to rebrand his image as a versatile artist in Hollywood, and not a one-trick pony.
For that to happen, needed to become a commodity rare enough for them to destabilize and compromise on their perceived structures.
Leverage, essentially.
With that mindset, one would assume the young actor intended on going independent, especially since it would allow him the most artistic freedom like he’d want.
Surprisingly though, Niall wasn’t planning on doing so. In fact, it was especially because he’d considered it that he’d realized the limitations he’d face if he went down that path as he was now.
Going independent was truly nice and all, but that applied to people whom had already become extremely popular, wealthy, influential--or on the rare occasion, very lucky in Hollywood.
Sadly, Niall was a very pragmatic person who didn’t depend on luck... though the irony of it wasn’t lost on him given how he’d wished upon a once-in-a-lifetime shooting star.
That said, if dependence on luck wasn’t a strong suit for him, naturally, it made perfect sense that the young actor was looking towards building his popularity, influence and wealth instead.
Now although he could gradually work towards each of them all on his own, Niall remained well aware of how limited his potential to achieve them would be without the proper resources to do so.
Resources that other organizations could effectively cover.
This, essentially, was why he wasn’t all that inclined to go independent.
Nonetheless, Niall still felt it necessary to take his own little steps towards those goals, especially the first one.
Casually, he got off the bed, his steps purposeful as he walked towards his desk.
Pulling out a pen and a small journal from one of its drawers, he began to outline the plot of his previous novel; [The Token of Fate].
Granted the novel had never made it past editorial, Niall hadn’t for one moment given up on the book because he’d strongly believed it had potential to be something truly great.
It just so happened that before he could get his bearings and rewrite the book, he’d wished upon a literal shooting star that reset his life.
Thirty minutes later, the young man leaned back into the chair and stared at the outline with an objective mind.
Recalling all the criticisms and reviews every publishing house he’d sent it to had mailed back to him, Niall began to filter out the genuine ones and the worthless ones.
Soon, he zeroed in on the main source of the problem his book had had.
It had been too generic.
A story that had been written several times, across several different genres.
A chosen hero who never wanted to save the world but was forced on the path anyway, only to realize much later that he was always meant for it.
Niall’s protagonist, Rayleigh, had been an honest warrior in a high fantasy world who just so happened to find himself in the wrong place, at the wrong time.
As a result, he became the next bearer of the token of fate--a powerful object that grants its wielder immense powers at the cost of a hidden condition.
Standard fantasy trope, really.
Now though, truly pondering over where he could introduce something fresh into the mix, Niall just so happened to gaze outside his window.
Casually taking in the beautiful orchard, the quiet roads, farmlands and farmhouses that stretched far ahead and into the distance, an idea suddenly struck him.
Slowly, his thoughts began to churn;
’What if, Rayleigh reached the end of his journey, and became disillusioned by the reality of things,’
’After all, as long as the token exists within the same sphere of ’worthy hands’, nothing changes and the battle for its power continues indefinitely,’
’What then would happen, if he decides to test out a theory, one that ultimately leads him to journey across the lands of Aelderon,’
’One that eventually lands him somewhere hidden on the edge of the map by a disorienting fog, away from the feudal Lands of Aelderon...’
’Somewhere... home to a simple, boring community of farmers and their families, completely oblivious to the workings of the outside world,’
’And what if, Rayleigh stumbles upon a simple farm boy in his youth while he’s there,’ Niall’s eyes widened in realization as he slowly leaned forward.
’A boy who isn’t chosen, trained, or part of any system whatsoever,’
’A boy, who just is, and remains genuinely contented with his life,’
’And because he’s exactly that, Rayleigh gives him the token, believing that for the first time since the inception of Aelderon,’
’Something unpredictable will happen across its feudal lands,’
’A brand-new cycle, one possibly devoid of the token of fate’s influence,’
No sooner had that final piece of thought slotted itself into Niall’s complex web of thoughts, an electrifying chill surged through his spine!
Quickly, he pulled out another journal, jot down the new plotline into it, and then compared both the old and the new plotline using his Gift of Discernment half an hour later.
The results were vivid.
The old plotline had a silver sheen with slight hues of gold.
The new plotline... solid gold, with multiple streaks of platinum!
In an instant, Niall bolted out of his room, rushing downstairs with the exhilarated grin of a mad scientist!
His parents, clearly startled by his sudden vivacity, watched as he bolted into their study room!
A few seconds later, he was out, apologizing to his parents as they watched him run up the stairs like a little kid in a candy store with Clark’s old typewriter;
"Sorry Ma! Sorry Pa! I just can’t help myself right now! This is going to be amaaaaazzzziiing!!!"
To that, Clark and Claire glanced over to each other, burst into a genuinely hearty laughter and then, with a slightly amused sigh, walked up the stairs to see what their son was up to.