The Academy of Erythian was unlike anything I had ever experienced. Each day brought new knowledge, new challenges, and new questions—yet answers were frustratingly elusive. The campus was immense, filled with sprawling halls, grand towers, and endless libraries. Students and scholars moved about with a purpose I envied, their lives defined by clear goals and pursuits.
Elara adapted quickly, immersing herself fully in the academy's healing classes, refining her control of mana with surprising ease. She showed remarkable talent, quickly becoming favored by instructors for her innate skill with healing mana. Even my father, usually reserved and wary, found himself settling into his role as an instructor for survival and combat techniques.
Yet, for me, each day was a battle against something deeper, something more personal. The whispers hadn't stopped. They lingered at the edges of my mind, creeping into my dreams, beckoning me toward something I couldn't yet understand.
Something inside the Academy itself called to me.
Secrets of the Library
Late one night, unable to sleep yet again, I found myself wandering through the Academy's oldest wing—a sprawling archive known as the Sanctum Librarium. Its shelves towered like cliffs, stretching upward until they disappeared into shadow. Dust motes drifted lazily through the dim air, illuminated by faintly glowing crystals embedded in the walls.
I moved quietly through the rows of ancient tomes, fingertips brushing lightly against aged leather bindings. Every book here was centuries old, each containing knowledge once thought lost.
But as I ventured deeper, the whispers grew stronger, clearer.
"Come closer, Sylas," they urged softly. "You're almost there."
I hesitated, glancing around carefully. No one was nearby—the scholars rarely came to this deep part of the archives. I moved forward cautiously, heart pounding in anticipation.
Finally, at the very end of the archive, a single book stood alone, resting on a stone pedestal. The tome was unlike any other, bound in dark leather inscribed with runes that shifted and pulsed as though alive.
The whispers intensified, filling my mind with a sense of inevitability.
"Open it."
My hands trembled as I lifted the heavy cover. The moment my fingers touched the pages, reality shifted violently around me, tearing my consciousness from the present and plunging me into darkness.
The Memory of a Fallen World
When my vision cleared, I was no longer standing within the Academy's library. Instead, I stood amidst ruins I had never seen before, beneath a blood-red sky.
I turned slowly, heart pounding, taking in the devastation around me. Broken towers of brass and iron rose from the shattered earth, twisted and lifeless. A city had once stood here, magnificent and powerful. But now, it was reduced to ruins, haunted by shadows.
A voice echoed through the ruins, familiar yet distant.
"Welcome back, Sylas."
I spun sharply, dagger drawn.
A figure emerged from the shadows. It was the same creature from the village attack—the masked entity, face hidden behind bone-white features, its body wrapped in smoky robes.
"You," I growled, mana surging at my fingertips.
It tilted its head slightly, amused. "I'm glad you remember."
"Why are you here?" I demanded.
"Because this place," it gestured to the ruins, "is what awaits your world."
I clenched my fists. "What do you want from me?"
"Nothing," it replied calmly. "But you want something from us. Answers. Truth."
The entity moved closer, its footsteps making no sound. "You're special, Sylas. Different. Do you think your reincarnation was coincidence? No, you were sent here, chosen."
My breath caught sharply. "Chosen by whom?"
It chuckled softly, coldly. "Those who stand above even us."
"Who are you?" I asked again, desperate for clarity.
It stared deeply at me. "I am called Venrys. Once, long ago, I stood among the great false gods your people worshipped. Now I serve something greater."
"Who?"
Venrys smiled grimly. "The true gods. Those who lurk beyond sight, whispering in dreams. The ones you've begun to hear."
A chill crawled down my spine. "Why are you telling me this?"
Its eyes flashed. "Because your fate is tied to theirs. You were brought here not by chance but by design. They want you—either as a tool or a threat."
I stepped back instinctively. "I'm no one's tool."
"That choice," Venrys murmured quietly, "is yours alone. But be warned, Sylas. They do not accept defiance lightly."
The sky darkened further, the ground trembling beneath my feet. Venrys' form began to fade, dissolving into shadows.
"Seek the truth behind the Academy's masks," it warned. "Before they find you first."
Then the vision shattered.
A Troubled Awakening
I awoke on the cold stone floor of the library, gasping for breath, heart pounding painfully in my chest. The tome lay closed beside me, runes dormant once again.
Footsteps echoed nearby. Elara and my father appeared at the end of the aisle, expressions tight with concern.
"Sylas!" Elara rushed to my side. "What happened?"
I shook my head slowly, steadying my breathing. "I…saw something."
My father knelt beside me, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Another vision?"
"Worse," I said quietly, voice shaking. "It spoke to me. It called itself Venrys—a false god. It warned of destruction coming for this world."
Elara paled. "A false god?"
My father's eyes darkened. "The Academy scholars speak of them in hushed tones. Powerful beings worshipped centuries ago. Gods who were false yet wielded incredible influence."
I nodded slowly. "He said something more. He said higher beings brought me here. That my presence isn't an accident."
My father sighed deeply, troubled. "Then the Aberrations are just a symptom. The true threat is even greater."
I met their eyes, determination steeling my voice. "I need answers. Now more than ever."
"Then we'll find them," Elara said firmly, stepping closer. "Together."
Secrets Within the Walls
We approached High Scholar Seraphina at dawn, recounting my vision in full. Her expression grew darker with every word until finally, she sighed deeply, running a hand over her face.
"Venrys was one of the greatest among the false gods," she admitted finally. "If he has truly returned, it means this is more serious than we feared. The Academy has long guarded secrets related to these beings—secrets meant to remain buried."
"Then it's time those secrets were shared," my father growled softly.
Seraphina nodded reluctantly. "Come with me."
She led us through winding hallways beneath the academy, down stone staircases into chambers hidden far beneath the surface. Eventually, we stopped before a massive door carved with intricate runes. She placed her hand against it, and it slowly creaked open, revealing a chamber filled with glowing crystals, ancient texts, and floating artifacts of immense power.
At its center was a stone altar, etched with symbols identical to those I'd seen before.
"This," Seraphina said quietly, "is where our Academy began. Here lies the truth of our world—the gods we believed in were never gods at all."
She turned to me, her gaze piercing.
"If Venrys spoke to you, Sylas, then you have been chosen—by fate or by design. You must decide now if you will rise to meet it or fall beneath its weight."
I stepped forward, staring at the altar with determination surging through my veins.
"No matter what comes," I declared firmly, "I'll fight. And I won't be anyone's pawn."
She smiled slightly. "Good. Because the war we face will be unlike any before it."
My heart tightened, resolve hardening into something stronger than steel.
I was ready to face the darkness.
No matter the cost.