The harsh clanging of a metal bell jolted Ethan awake. Disoriented, he blinked away the remnants of his fragmented dream. Sunlight streamed through a high window, illuminating a stark white room with rows of beds occupied by figures clad in simple brown tunics. A young woman with fiery red hair sat by his bedside, her expression a mix of concern and amusement.
"Welcome back to the world," she said, a hint of amusement softening her sharp hazel eyes. "Seems you slept like the dead after your ordeal."
It was Ember. He sat up slowly, wincing at the sharp protest from his muscles. The memory of the previous events flooded back – the battle with the Blight creature, the betrayal by Dr. Voss, the cloacked figures and his arrival at the Lumian Academy, a haven offered by these strangers.
"How long was I out?" he rasped, his throat dry. "Just a day," Ember replied, handing him a glass of water.
He took a grateful gulp, the cool water easing the ache in his throat. Glancing around the room with a renewed sense of awareness, he noticed details he'd missed in his exhaustion. Sunlight streamed through the high window, casting long shadows across the polished stone floor. Simple wooden furniture – a chair, a bedside table, and a sturdy chest of drawers – provided basic necessities. Woven tapestries depicting scenes of nature, bathed in an ethereal glow, adorned the walls, offering a touch of warmth to the otherwise sterile environment.
He gripped the staff that lay on the chair by his bed, its smooth surface a familiar weight in his hand. Here he was, in a place dedicated to fighting this corrupting force, a haven for those who had lost loved ones or been displaced by its relentless reach.
"That staff," Ember said, her voice softening. "Elara told us. It seems to be linked to you somehow."
He ran a hand over the smooth, polished wood. It pulsed with a faint warmth, responding subtly to his touch. "I… I don't understand."
"Neither do we," Ember admitted. "But there are people here who might be able to help you figure it out. People who have dedicated their lives to understanding the Blight and its secrets."
The door creaked open, and Shawn lumbered in, his expression less gruff than yesterday. He was a towering figure, clad in rough-hewn leather armor that bore the nicks and scratches of countless battles. A massive warhammer hung at his side, dwarfed only by the scowl etched onto his brow. Despite his imposing appearance, there was a surprising warmth in his eyes that softened the harsh lines of his face.
"Feeling better, kid?" he rumbled, his voice surprisingly deep and gravelly.
Ethan nodded, surprised by a flicker of something akin to kindness in the giant's eyes. "Yeah, thanks."
"Good," Shawn said, clapping him on the back with a force that nearly sent him flying. "There's much to learn. Elara sent a message."
Shawn pulled out a small crystal amulet that glowed faintly. As he focused on it, a holographic image shimmered into existence above his palm. There stood Elara, her face pale but resolute.
"Ethan," her voice echoed faintly. "Thank goodness you're alright. The Blight attack on Lumia was fierce, but we're holding. I'm recovering, but…" she faltered for a moment, a flicker of pain crossing her face. "They suspect Dr. Voss may have been compromised. Be cautious."
The image flickered and died. A heavy silence descended into the room. Ethan felt a cold dread seep into his stomach. Dr. Voss compromised? The very words sent shivers down his spine.
The image flickered and died. A heavy silence descended into the room. Ethan felt a cold dread seep into his stomach. Dr. Voss compromised? The very words sent shivers down his spine. But Elara's final words, a chilling echo of his own dream, sent a new wave of fear crashing over him. Was the darkness he'd glimpsed not just a manifestation of the Blight, but something more insidious, something that lurked within the very walls of this supposed haven?, the Lumian Academy, Guardians… The puzzle pieces were starting to take shape, but the picture remained shrouded in mist.
"Guardians?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
A memory flickered in Ethan's mind, a fragment from their initial encounter with Elara back in the ravaged city. Her voice, strong and determined, echoed in his head. "My name is Elara," the woman said, her voice breaking through his reverie. "Guardian of Light and steel. You, traveler, seem to possess a strange connection to this world, an echo of a forgotten memory."
He clutched the smooth, cool stone nestled against his chest, the pendant Elara had pressed into his palm later. Her cryptic words, "You have potential, a connection to this fight," swirled in his mind. This pendant, a tangible reminder of her cryptic message, felt heavy with unknown significance.
Elara's holographic message resonated with newfound significance. The Lumian Academy, with its ancient knowledge, could be the key to unlocking the secrets of the Guardians and his own connection to them. Perhaps, within its walls, he could learn to master the power Elara sensed within him and fulfill the hope she placed on his shoulders.
Shawn, his gruff exterior momentarily softened by a flicker of sadness, rumbled, "That's a story for another time. But for now, let's get you out of bed. You've got a lot of catching up to do."
As Shawn helped him stand, a wave of dizziness washed over Ethan, momentarily twisting his vision with a flicker of shadowy figures at the edges. A cold tendril of anger snaked through him, a primal urge to lash out at his own weakness. But a newfound determination, laced with a sliver of doubt, fueled his shaky legs. He had a lot to learn, a lot to fight for. He would find answers, unravel the mysteries of this strange world, and fulfill the hope Elara had placed in him.
The Lumian Academy bustled with activity. Stone corridors, their cool surfaces polished smooth by countless footsteps, echoed with the rhythmic thud of boots and the hushed murmur of conversation. Sunlight streamed through high arched windows, illuminating murals that adorned the walls like stained glass stories. These vibrant depictions showcased epic battles between valiant warriors clad in gleaming armor and monstrous creatures with writhing tentacles and glowing eyes.
Ethan, still stiff and sore from his injuries, followed Shawn and Ember, his senses overloaded by the sights and sounds of this new world. The Academy itself was a sprawling complex built into the side of a colossal mountain. Lush gardens, meticulously maintained by students under the watchful eyes of seasoned instructors, cascaded down the slopes in vibrant tiers. These verdant pockets offered a welcome respite from the purposeful bustle of the Academy, their fragrant flowers and chirping birds a balm to the soul.
Grand halls with soaring ceilings that seemed to pierce the heavens housed classrooms and training facilities. Intricately carved pillars, depicting scenes of past victories and dire warnings against the Blight, rose from the polished stone floors. The very air crackled with a sense of history, whispering tales of past battles and generations who had dedicated their lives to fighting the relentless Blight. Ethan felt a tremor of awe course through him, a sense of being a part of something far grander than himself.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
Everywhere he looked, students in their simple brown tunics were immersed in the pursuit of knowledge. Some huddled in small groups, their faces animated as they debated arcane theories or dissected historical accounts of the Blight. Others sat alone, brows furrowed in concentration as they pored over ancient texts or scribbled notes in their journals. The Academy pulsed with a vibrant intellectual energy, fueled by a singular purpose: to understand and ultimately eradicate the Blight.
Shawn grunted in agreement, the sound rumbling from his deep chest. "Been here most of my life. Foundling, you see. Raised by the Academy." His voice, though gruff, held a hint of warmth that surprised Ethan. This imposing figure, a mountain of a man with muscles that bulged beneath his worn leather armor, was an orphan.
A flicker of surprise crossed Ethan's face. He'd expected a hardened warrior with a past steeped in battle, not someone who owed his very life to the Academy. Ember, sensing his curiosity, spoke up, her fiery red hair catching the sunlight streaming through the window.
"Most of us here are," she explained, her voice sharp yet laced with a touch of sadness. "Lost families, refugees from the Blight's cruel reach. The Academy offers a safe haven, a chance to fight back, a chance to belong to something bigger than ourselves."
Her eyes, the color of hazelnuts, clouded for a moment, a shadow of loss briefly flickering across her features. Ethan understood. The shared experience of loss, of having their lives uprooted by the Blight, forged a deep bond here. It wasn't just about learning to fight; it was about finding a new family, a new purpose amidst the ashes of the old.
Shawn chuckled, the sound surprisingly light coming from his massive frame. "Ember here," he said, clapping her roughly on the back with surprising gentleness, "lost her entire village to the Blight when she was just a kid. Stubborn as a mule, though. Wouldn't give up." He winked at Ethan. "Trained like a demon, and now she's one of our best scouts. Always disappearing into the Blight-infested wastelands and coming back with intel that's saved countless lives."
Ember swatted his hand away playfully, rolling her eyes with a smile that didn't quite reach them. "Enough of the hero talk, giant," she mumbled, but a hint of pride flickered in her eyes.
Despite the playful banter, a warmth bloomed in Ethan's chest. Their camaraderie, the way they supported each other despite their shared pain and the lingering scars of loss, offered a glimmer of comfort in this strange new world. He wasn't alone. He was surrounded by others who understood his grief, his anger, and his burning desire to fight back against the Blight that had stolen so much from them all.
Their walk led them to a large courtyard bustling with trainees practicing combat drills. Armed men and women in simple leather armor sparred with wooden swords, the rhythmic clang echoing under the open sky. Others meditated beneath the shade of ancient trees, their faces serene as they focused their energy.
"These are the initiates," Shawn explained, his voice dropping to a low rumble. "They're learning the basics – combat, elemental manipulation, survival skills. We all started here."
Ethan watched a young woman wield a staff much like his own, channeling bursts of energy that sent shimmering projectiles flying across the training ground. He felt a pang of curiosity and perhaps a hint of envy.
"There are different departments within the Academy," Ember said, her gaze following Ethan's. "Combat training, magical studies, research… You'll have a chance to explore them all."
They stopped before a towering oak door adorned with intricate carvings depicting swirling light and battling figures. Shawn pushed the door open, revealing a vast library with towering shelves overflowing with ancient tomes. The air crackled with a faint energy, and a sense of history hung heavy in the air.
"This is the heart of the Academy," Shawn announced in a hushed tone. "The Archives. Knowledge is our greatest weapon against the Blight."
Ethan stepped inside, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of books. An old woman with silver hair pulled back in a tight bun approached them, her eyes twinkling behind wire-rimmed spectacles.
"Ah, Shawn," she greeted. "And this must be the new arrival, Ethan. Welcome to the Academy, young man."
"This is Cordelia," Shawn introduced her. "She's the head librarian, keeper of our most precious knowledge."
Ethan felt a sudden surge of nervousness under Cordelia's keen gaze. The name held a weight of authority, a stark contrast to the Elara he knew – the brave warrior, the first person he met in this world. This Cordelia exuded an aura of quiet power, her eyes sharp with intelligence and a hint of something ancient and knowing. He had a feeling this woman held the answers he desperately sought.
Shawn and Ember exchanged a look, then Shawn clapped a hand on Ethan's shoulder, nearly sending him toppling over. "Alright, kid," he boomed, his voice a gravelly rumble. "We have work to do. We'll leave you to it. Cordelia can answer any questions you might have about this dusty old place. And hey," he added with a gruff wink, "if you need anything, just holler. We'll be back before you know it."
With that, he turned and lumbered out of the room, Ember trailing behind him with a playful roll of her eyes.
Ethan stood awkwardly for a moment, unsure how to proceed. The vast library felt like a living entity, its silence broken only by the soft rustle of turning pages and the occasional cough. Cordelia, however, seemed unfazed by the mountain of knowledge surrounding them.
"Welcome, Ethan," she said, her voice surprisingly warm for someone who looked like she could recite the Dewey Decimal System in her sleep. "Let's find you a place to start. Tell me, what sparks your curiosity?"
Ethan hesitated. He had so many questions, his mind a swirling vortex of confusion. "The staff," he finally blurted, "and the Guardians. Elara mentioned them in her message."
Cordelia's eyes gleamed with a flicker of something akin to pride. "Ah, a curious one, aren't you? The staff… well, that's a mystery waiting to be unraveled. As for the Guardians, they are legendary warriors, spoken of in whispers and ancient texts. Some believe they are merely myth, figments of a desperate past. But others…"
She trailed off, her gaze drifting towards a dusty tome tucked away on a high shelf. A mischievous glint flickered in her eyes. "But that, young Ethan, is a story for another time. Perhaps after you've familiarized yourself with the basics - the history of the Blight, its different strains, the various methods of combat."
"But isn't Elara a Guardian?" Ethan interrupted, his voice laced with confusion. "She mentioned it when we first met."
Cordelia's smile softened a touch. "Ah, Elara. She carries the blood of the Guardians, that much is true. You see, Ethan, the Guardians were an order of warriors blessed with immense power, protectors who fought the Blight in its earliest forms. But time, as it often does, has taken its toll. True Guardians, with their full potential, are exceedingly rare these days."
A flicker of disappointment crossed Ethan's face. "So, Elara isn't a true Guardian?"
"Not in the traditional sense," Cordelia clarified. "She is a descendant, one who carries a diluted lineage of that ancient power. Yet, her connection is strong, and her bravery is undeniable. Perhaps, with proper training, she may even reawaken some of that dormant potential within her."
Ethan pondered this new information. Elara, a descendant of Guardians… it explained her strength and her unwavering resolve. But it also fueled a new fire within him. If Elara, with a diluted lineage, could be that powerful, what potential did his connection to the staff hold? His journey at the Lumian Academy had just begun, and the whispers of the Guardians echoed louder than ever, beckoning him to uncover the truth.
Ethan felt a pang of disappointment. He yearned for answers, for a glimpse into his past and his connection to this strange staff. But Cordelia's smile held a promise, a hint of a grand narrative waiting to be unveiled.
"For now," she continued, her voice taking on a more practical tone, "let's find you a room and get you settled in. You'll need your rest before delving into the mysteries ."
As Cordelia led him through the labyrinthine shelves, Ethan couldn't help but sense a hidden purpose lurking beneath her calm demeanor. She was the gatekeeper of knowledge, the guardian of secrets, and Ethan felt a growing conviction that she held the key to unlocking his own shrouded past.
His journey within the Lumian Academy had just begun, and the whispers of the darkness echoed in the vast halls, beckoning him towards a destiny yet unknown.