Two months into his Academy education, Adam had established a carefully cultivated reputation as the scholarly prince—serious, brilliant, and dedicated to theoretical mastery rather than raw power. Students and instructors alike had adjusted their initial wariness of his Crossmark, gradually accepting his presence as an intellectual asset rather than a potential threat.
The late autumn evening found Adam in the Academy's secondary archives, a circular chamber one level below the main library where less frequently accessed texts were stored. Unlike the grand, open spaces of the primary collection, these archives were a labyrinth of narrow aisles and shadowed alcoves—ideal for uninterrupted research and, if necessary, discreet observation.
Adam moved with practiced familiarity through the stacks, his crimson scholar's robe marking him as authorized for independent study. It had taken weeks of exemplary conduct and carefully demonstrated responsibility to earn this privilege—another small victory in his methodical campaign to access knowledge denied in his previous life.
His destination was Section 17-B, which housed historical accounts of unusual magical phenomena—including, if his research was correct, limited documentation of previous Crossmarked individuals. Archmage Levian's casual mention of seven documented cases in the last millennium had sparked Adam's curiosity about these predecessors who shared his distinctive mark.
In his original timeline, he had never investigated this historical context, assuming his condition to be unique or at least extremely rare. Now, with mature perspective, he recognized the strategic value of understanding how others with his mark had navigated their abilities—and why they had ultimately failed to survive beyond their third decade.
The section he sought was in the deepest part of the archives, illuminated only by faint, enchanted globes that cast more shadows than light. As Adam approached, he detected a slight disruption in the ambient magical field—evidence that someone else was present in this supposedly abandoned corner of the collection.
He slowed his steps, extending his senses in the way Magister Thorne had recently taught him—a technique for detecting energy signatures without active probing that might alert the observed party.
A subtle shimmer of Obsidian energy confirmed his suspicion. Someone was using minor shadow manipulation to conceal their presence among the stacks.
In his previous life, Adam would have confronted the intruder directly or simply ignored them as irrelevant to his purpose. Now, with strategic patience, he adjusted his approach—continuing forward but modifying his energy signature to appear focused elsewhere, masking his true destination.
He selected a text from a nearby shelf, pretending absorption in its contents while maintaining peripheral awareness of the concealed observer. After several minutes of this performance, he sensed the Obsidian energy signature withdrawing, apparently satisfied that his research interests lay elsewhere.
Only when he was certain the observer had departed did Adam proceed to his original destination. Section 17-B was smaller than expected—a single bookcase containing perhaps thirty volumes, many showing signs of age and limited consultation.
The section marker bore a small sigil Adam recognized from his advanced studies with Archmage Levian—an indicator that these texts, while not formally restricted, were considered sensitive enough to merit documentation of who accessed them.
[MONITORING DETECTION: PASSIVE WARDS ACTIVE]
[RECOMMENDATION: LEGITIMATE ACCESS APPROACH]
The system's assessment confirmed Adam's own evaluation. Rather than attempting to circumvent the monitoring enchantment, he deliberately activated it, placing his palm against the documentation plate and allowing it to record his identity and purpose.
"Prince Adam Morningstar, theoretical research on historical affinity manifestations," he stated clearly, providing a legitimate reason without specifying his particular interest in the Crossmark.
The ward shimmered briefly, acknowledging his identity and authorization before returning to its passive state. Now his access would be recorded but would appear routine and appropriately academic.
Adam began methodically scanning the collection, quickly locating three volumes of particular relevance: "Anomalous Ocular Manifestations in Spectrum Practitioners," "The Crossmark Through History," and "Divergent Affinities and Their Physical Indicators."
He selected the most comprehensive text first, carefully removing "The Crossmark Through History" from the shelf. The book was slimmer than expected—suggesting limited documented cases rather than extensive research. Its binding was Obsidian-infused leather, designed to preserve the contents from deterioration while subtly discouraging casual handling.
Adam found an isolated study alcove and activated the privacy wards—a standard feature for academic research rather than a suspicious action. Opening the text, he was immediately struck by its antiquity. The introductory pages indicated it had been compiled over three centuries ago, with occasional addendums as new cases emerged.
The first documented Crossmark appeared nearly two thousand years prior—far earlier than Archmage Levian had suggested. The subject was identified only as "The First Divergent," a mage whose red, cross-pupiled eyes had allegedly manifested following extended meditation at the convergence point of seven ley lines.
The First Divergent demonstrated unprecedented control over multiple spectrum energies, transcending traditional affinity limitations. Contemporary accounts describe transmutation of base elements, weather manipulation beyond seasonal parameters, and healing capabilities that reversed conditions previously considered terminal.
Historical convergence suggests The First Divergent was instrumental in establishing the theoretical foundation for what would eventually become the Seven Schools of Magical Praxis, though this connection remains scholarly conjecture rather than established fact.
The subject's death occurred in the forty-second year, reportedly while attempting to manifest energy beyond the established Spectrum—an endeavor contemporaries described as "reaching into the Void between stars." The resulting energy cascade destroyed an area approximately one league in diameter, including all witnesses to the experiment.
Adam paused in his reading, a chill running through him despite the archive's warmth. The parallel to his own experimentation in his previous life was unsettling. He, too, had eventually attempted to harness Void energy, though with more calculated preparation than this historical predecessor.
The text continued with six subsequent cases, each following a disturbingly similar pattern: exceptional magical talent manifesting across multiple spectrum aspects, accelerated development of novel techniques, and premature death—either through self-destruction or execution by fearful contemporaries.
The most recent case had occurred just seventy years ago—a woman identified only as "The Crimson Lady" whose Crossmark manifested spontaneously in her twentieth year rather than from birth.
Subject R-7 demonstrated unprecedented capacity for Crimson energy manipulation, developing transformation techniques previously considered theoretically impossible. Notable achievements included transmutation of living tissue without cellular degradation and element conversion without equivalent exchange balance.
Academic contributions include seventeen theoretical treatises, most notably "Boundary Dissolution in Spectrum Applications" and "Transformation Vectors Across Affinity Limitations."
Subject terminated by combined action of the Seven Councils following confirmed Void contamination manifesting as physical corruption and philosophical destabilization. Execution performed using the Radiant Blade to ensure complete energy dispersal without contamination transfer.
The Radiant Blade—the same weapon Marcus had used to execute Adam in his original timeline. The connection sent another chill through him. Was there a reason that particular weapon was consistently used against Crossmarked individuals? Some property that made it especially effective against their unique energy signature?
Adam continued reading, searching for patterns beyond the obvious tragic endings. One detail emerged across multiple cases: all documented Crossmarked individuals had eventually attempted to access energy beyond the Spectrum. All had sought the Void, with catastrophic results.
In his previous life, Adam had considered his Void experiments to be uniquely innovative—a breakthrough of his own devising. Now it appeared he had unknowingly followed a path trodden by every one of his predecessors.
[SIGNIFICANT HISTORICAL PATTERN DETECTED]
[PARALLEL DEVELOPMENT TRAJECTORIES IDENTIFIED]
[WARNING: PREDETERMINED OUTCOME RISK]
The system's assessment matched his own uneasy conclusion. Was the attraction to Void energy an inherent aspect of the Crossmark itself? Some fundamental connection that inevitably drew its bearers toward that particular doom?
As Adam pondered this disturbing possibility, he became aware of a subtle shift in the archive's ambient energy—the same Obsidian signature he had detected earlier, now returning to observe him more directly.
Without altering his outward behavior, Adam extended his senses, attempting to identify the observer while appearing absorbed in his research. The signature was disciplined but distinctive—academic rather than martial in its precision, suggesting a scholar rather than a guard or agent.
Adam carefully closed the text and returned it to its shelf, selecting the companion volume on ocular manifestations as if simply continuing his research. This movement allowed him to glance briefly toward the energy source while maintaining the appearance of academic focus.
A shadow deeper than it should have been occupied an alcove across the central aisle—not complete invisibility, but a subtle distortion designed to discourage direct attention. Sophisticated Obsidian technique, but not flawless.
Rather than confront or evade the observer, Adam chose a more sophisticated approach. He deliberately activated a minor Crimson technique—a standard practice exercise taught to all students with his affinity—while allowing a carefully calculated amount of energy to "leak" from his control.
The minor flare would appear to be nothing more than a student practicing basic technique during his studies—a common enough occurrence in the archives to avoid suspicion. But the specific energy pattern contained a disruptive harmonic that would interfere with sustained Obsidian manipulation.
The shadow across the aisle flickered briefly as his Crimson energy disrupted the concealment technique. For just a moment, Adam glimpsed his observer—a slender figure in the dark robes of an advanced Obsidian practitioner, female according to the briefly visible facial structure.
She recovered quickly, re-establishing her concealment with impressive skill. But the momentary disruption confirmed Adam's suspicion that he was being monitored by someone with significant magical training—and specific interest in his research choices.
[SURVEILLANCE CONFIRMED]
[SUBJECT: LIKELY OBSIDIAN ADEPT OR MASTER]
[RECOMMENDED RESPONSE: STRATEGIC MISDIRECTION]
Adam took the system's suggestion, deliberately selecting several additional texts on general affinity theory before departing the restricted section. This would suggest broader theoretical interest rather than specific focus on the Crossmark phenomenon.
As he made his way back through the labyrinthine stacks, Adam considered the implications of both his discoveries and the surveillance. The historical pattern of Crossmarked individuals suggested a disturbing predeterminism to their trajectories. And someone—possibly connected to the Academy, possibly to broader political interests—considered his research important enough to monitor directly.
In his previous life, he would have reacted with paranoia and aggression to such surveillance. Now, he recognized it as an expected development—and potentially useful information about which factions considered him significant enough to observe.
The broader question of the Crossmark's apparent connection to Void energy was more troubling. In his original timeline, Adam had pursued Void manipulation out of ambition and the desire for power beyond traditional limitations. The discovery that every documented predecessor had followed a similar path suggested something more fundamental than mere ambition at work.
Was there something about the Crossmark itself that created an affinity for Void energy? A predisposition that made such experimentation inevitable regardless of the individual's intentions?
If so, the implications for his current path were significant. His strategic approach to redemption—or at least to avoiding his previous destructive end—might be more challenging than anticipated if the Crossmark itself predisposed him toward certain dangerous trajectories.
As Adam exited the archives, nodding politely to the elderly archivist who monitored the entrance, he carefully composed his features to reveal nothing of these troubling thoughts. Tomorrow would bring his bi-weekly session with Archmage Levian—an opportunity to potentially probe for more information without revealing too much about his specific concerns.
The evening air was crisp with approaching winter as Adam crossed the Academy courtyard toward the royal quarters where he and Marcus resided during their study days. Stars glittered overhead in patterns cataloged and interpreted by generations of Spectrum theorists.
Including, apparently, predecessors who had shared his distinctive eyes—and his eventual doom.
Adam paused, gazing upward at the vast expanse. Between those stars lay the emptiness that had tempted every Crossmarked individual toward experimentation with the Void. In his previous life, he had succumbed to that temptation, with catastrophic consequences.
Would this second chance truly allow a different outcome? Or was he merely taking a more circuitous route to the same inevitable destination?
[FATE PERCEPTION ACTIVATING]
[MULTIPLE TRAJECTORIES DETECTED]
[CONCLUSION: PREDETERMINED FATE HYPOTHESIS INCONCLUSIVE]
The system's assessment provided cold comfort. Inconclusive evidence against predetermination was hardly a guarantee of freedom. But as Adam continued toward the royal quarters, he found an unexpected resolve strengthening within him.
If every previous Crossmarked individual had followed the same destructive path, perhaps that simply meant none had possessed the advantage he now held—knowledge of the pattern itself, and the determination to break it.
Sometimes, after all, understanding the nature of a trap was the first step toward avoiding it altogether.