Chapter 3

The day before Eli’s arrival, Alira had awoken with a sudden, overwhelming clarity—a vision of a stranger from another world, his spirit fractured and raw. She saw flashes of him amid mist and shadow: his name, Eli, came to her as a whisper on the wind. She felt the heaviness of his grief, though she couldn’t see its source, only a shattering pain that mirrored her own. Her connection to the land told her he would arrive soon, and that he would need her guidance.

Guided by this sense of purpose, Alira set off through the dense forests and across the moonlit plains, traveling without rest. Her instincts, honed over years of living in tune with the land, led her down twisting paths and past ancient landmarks hidden to all but those who knew where to look. The hours passed in silence, broken only by her footsteps and the soft rustle of leaves.

As dawn broke, Alira approached the spot where Eli lay unconscious, sprawled on the dewy grass. She remembered her vision from the morning before—the flicker of his name, his fractured spirit, his profound sadness. There was something more, too, something hidden, but she couldn’t yet understand what it meant. All she knew was that this stranger was somehow important, that he needed her help.

Kneeling beside him, she placed her hand gently on his chest, feeling the faint, unsteady pulse beneath her fingers. His injuries were substantial, but she noticed something strange as she examined his aura. Beneath the familiar flow of mana that breathed life into all things here, Eli radiated a unique energy. It felt both known and foreign, like a river branching into unfamiliar streams. Her hand hovered over him, sensing the remnants of his healing ability, crude but potent. It was unlike anything she’d felt—a raw, untrained connection to mana, but distinctly…different.

Alira closed her eyes and let her own energy flow into him, calling on the natural currents of mana within herself, drawing from the land that sustained her. Her fingers began to glow softly, a deep blue light swirling around her hand and sinking into his skin. She focused on his injuries, weaving her energy into his, feeling his bones and tissues respond as they slowly, carefully knit back together.

As she worked, memories of her past surfaced unbidden. She was no stranger to pain herself. Years ago, her village had been ravaged by a dark force that swept through with merciless intent, leaving only ruin in its wake. Her family had perished, and since then, she’d wandered alone, bound to the land and tasked with guiding those the world itself deemed significant. She had learned to help without attachment, to watch from a distance, wary of forming bonds that loss might once again sever. And yet, here she was, drawn to a stranger in ways she couldn’t fully explain.

As the healing took effect, Eli stirred, his breath deepening as the pain ebbed. Slowly, he opened his eyes, blinking against the soft morning light. When he sees a woman kneeling beside him, her green eyes studying him with an intensity that makes him feel like she can see right through him. She doesn’t look like anyone he’s ever met—there’s no sharp beauty, but something about her presence is calming. Her face is weathered, yet ageless, with a kind of quiet strength that radiates from her, and her hair, long and braided with streaks of silver, falls loosely over her shoulders. Despite her calm demeanor, there’s a softness in her gaze, motherly, peaceful.

Eli, trying to sit up, notices she is dressed in flowing, earth-toned robes adorned with intricate patterns, and her hands hovered just above his chest, glowing with a soft, blue light that radiated warmth.

“Who…who are you?” he asked, his voice hoarse and dry, eyes scanning her face with both distrust and relief.

“Alira. Just a friend,” she replied, her voice warm but steady, as she withdrew her hands. She watched as he touched his ribs and legs, surprise flickering across his face as he realized how much better he felt.

“What did you do to me?” he whispered, still in disbelief. Alira smirked, “I healed you, or finished healing you from whatever healed you before I got here.”

“What do you mean, “you healed me?”, are you a doctor or something?”

Alira stood up, looking down at him, “I am not a doctor, or at least not in the way you mean. I used mana.”

Eli squinted up at her, “Mana? Seriously?”

She nodded, offering a small, amused smile. “Mana is the life force of this world. You carry it, too—although it’s a bit…wilder in you, like a half-awake tharnox stumbling through a village.” She paused, eyeing him. “It’s powerful, but wild—definitely untrained.”

Eli frowned, testing his limbs, still trying to wrap his mind around what she was saying. “Mana, tharnoggle?” he murmured, almost to himself. Alira helped him to his feet, steadying him as he swayed, unused to the feeling in his legs.

As dawn pierced the forest, Eli took a few shaky steps, his mind racing as he surveyed the area, panic setting in as he began to remember the events that brought him here and the chaotic scene of when they all got here. “Where…where are they?” he asked, panic in his voice. They were all just here, but now…they were gone “They were right here,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. His voice cracked as he spoke again, louder this time. “They were all right here when I—when I killed the last one…I closed my eyes, but…” he trailed off.

He looked around, expecting to see their bodies—some sign of what had happened—but there was nothing. All that remained were the creatures, seven of them, scattered across the clearing, lifeless in the pale morning light. Their strange, striped fur was matted with blood, their sharp, rat-like teeth still bared in death. The sight sent a shiver down his spine, as he remembered the screams of the others.

“Sam… Kelly… Marcus… Raj… Nina… Sarah… Liam…” Eli said their names slowly, almost as if saying them out loud would summon them back. His voice trembled, the weight of their absence settling over him like a crushing force. “Where are they?”

As he shifted his gaze, something glinted from a patch of disturbed grass faintly in the light. Kneeling, he reached out and picked it up. a pair of round glasses, bent and cracked. “Sam…” he whispered, his throat tightening. He remembered Sam’s constant fidgeting with these glasses, how they’d always slip down his nose while he rambled about physics theories.

Clutching the glasses tightly, Eli turned to Alira, who stood silently nearby, her dark eyes watching him with quiet intensity. She stayed back, giving him space, a look of concern etched on her face. His grip firm against the bloodstained metal. “These were his. He was lying right there,” he said, pointing to a patch of ground near one of the creature’s bodies. His voice rose in pitch, edged with panic. “He was here! They were all here! What happened to them? Where did they go?”

Alira stepped closer, her expression softening. “I only saw you when I arrived,” she said gently. “No one else.”

Eli’s breath hitched. “No, no. That doesn’t make sense. They were here. I remember… I remember the fight. I remember them falling, one by one. They were still breathing—some of them, at least. I know they were. I would’ve seen if they…” He trailed off, his words choking in his throat.

Alira knelt beside him, her movements slow and deliberate. “Sometimes,” she began carefully, “when those from other realms arrive, the land rejects them. This place… it is not kind to outsiders. Some do not survive the transition.”

Eli’s head snapped toward her, his eyes wide with anger and disbelief. “What are you talking about? The transition? They were fine—okay, not fine, but they were alive! They were real!” He held up the glasses as if to prove his point. “This is real! They were here!”

Alira met his gaze, her voice steady. “I don’t doubt they were real, Eli. But this land is harsh. It takes what it wishes. Sometimes it leaves no trace behind.”

Her words struck like a hammer to his chest, cracking something deep inside him that had barely begun to heal. The hollow ache that had followed him since his parents’ death now roared back to life, threatening to consume him all over again.

Eli stared at the glasses, his hands trembling. The memories he’d fought to bury surged forward—his mother’s laugh, his father’s warm hand on his shoulder, the moment he’d lost them both in the crash. The empty hospital room. The deafening silence of Miles’s house. The weight of a world that had moved on without them.

And now, these students—people he barely knew, yet who had shared his final connection to his old life—were gone, too.

“I can’t do this again,” Eli muttered, his voice raw and breaking. His grip on the glasses tightened as grief and anger threatened to overwhelm him. “I can’t lose more people. I just—I can’t.”

The despair that had consumed him after the crash loomed again, a dark pit threatening to swallow him whole. He felt it pulling at him, whispering the same lies it had back then: You’re alone. You’re lost. You don’t matter.

He sucked in a shaky breath, his chest heaving as his mind spiraled.

Alira’s voice broke through the storm. “Eli.”

He looked up, his vision blurred by tears he refused to let fall.

“I know this pain is unbearable,” she said softly, her gaze unwavering. “I have felt it, too. I have lost people who were my entire world.”

Eli shook his head, his teeth clenched. “They didn’t deserve this. None of them did. And now they’re just… gone. Just like my parents. Gone, like they never even mattered.”

Alira’s hand rested lightly on his shoulder, her touch grounding. “Their lives mattered, Eli. And so does yours. You survived this, even when the odds were against you. That survival means something. It always does.”

Eli let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. “Surviving doesn’t feel like it means much right now.”

Her grip on his shoulder tightened slightly. “It will, in time. But for now, you must stay here, in this moment. Let the grief come, but don’t let it take you. You are stronger than that.”

Eli turned back to the glasses in his hand, staring at the faint crack in the lens. The ache in his chest didn’t lessen, but somewhere, beneath the suffocating grief, he felt a flicker of anger—a refusal to let that despair claim him again.

“What do I do now?” he whispered, the question more to himself than to her.

Alira stood, her dark eyes gleaming with something resolute. “You keep moving,” she said. “For yourself. And for them.”

Eli swallowed hard, his jaw tightening. He didn’t respond right away, but when he rose to his feet, his posture was steadier. He looked to the forest beyond the clearing, the uncertainty of this strange world stretching out before him.

He pocketed the glasses, the metal warm against his palm. Taking a long deep breath, “where do I even begin?” “This way, I know a place.” Alira said in her calming voice.

As Alira guided Eli toward a nearby cave nestled in a cluster of moss-covered rocks, he took in his surroundings—the damp, earthy scent of the forest, the soft crunch of leaves underfoot. Then, he noticed something unusual. A strange green bar, the same one that had only partially filled before, now fully illuminated. Beneath it, another bar appeared, faintly purple and shorter than the first.

He paused mid-step, frowning as a blinking light caught his attention in the far-right corner of his vision. He squinted, focusing on it, and immediately a screen appeared in front of him, like he’d slipped on a VR headset.

The unexpected projection startled him, and he stumbled backward, catching himself on a tree. Alira stopped, looking back with a mix of curiosity and concern.

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“Is…is this real? What in the ‘Ready Player One’?” Eli said, his eyes darting around, trying to process what was happening. “What is this? Why is there…this…thing in front of me?” He gestured wildly at the empty air, where only he could see the screen.

Alira’s brow furrowed, her expression shifting from mild curiosity to genuine confusion. “I don’t see anything, Eli. You’ll need to explain it to me.”

He frowned, rubbing his forehead. “There’s a screen…like…do you have TVs here?” He glanced at Alira.

“I am not sure what a ‘TB’ is, Eli,” she replied.

“A TV,” he corrected, exasperated. “Never mind. I see a floating…window, with bars and options, like a video game,” he added, the words “video game” tumbling out more as a question than a statement. He glanced at her, hoping for a spark of recognition, but her blank expression said otherwise.

“You’re saying you see…messages, in front of you?” Alira’s voice was calm, but there was a hint of tension. “And bars? What do they mean?”

“I’m not sure,” Eli admitted as they resumed walking, his eyes darting back and forth between the path and the screen hovering in his vision. “Back home, in my world, you’d probably call this a HUD—a heads-up display.” Eli said.

Alira tilted her head. “Heads…up? Like a warning?”

He sighed. “No, it’s…never mind. Explaining this is like trying to teach my mom how to use TikTok.”

Her brow furrowed. “What’s a ‘tick tock’?”

Eli groaned, “It’s something you’d see in a video game, or those VR goggles…” He trailed off, glancing at her. “Uh, never mind. It’s like health and…magic. Or I guess mana? But…” His voice faltered. “This isn’t a game.”

“Tick tock is a game?” “No, the HUD, heads-up display, TikTok is an app you can watch videos on, look it doesn’t matter.” Eli said, trying to find a way to explain anything without it sounding insane.

Alira listened intently, absorbing every word. Her mind raced, trying to reconcile Eli’s strange experience with her understanding of mana. “Does it tell you anything?” she asked. “Or show you something?”

Eli blinked rapidly, trying to focus on the floating screen. It wasn’t just hovering—it felt integrated, like a strange extension of his thoughts. When he squinted at the blinking icon, it pulsed faintly, responding to his attention. “It’s mostly just bars,” he said, shrugging. “Health and…a purple bar, but smaller. And there’s this blinking icon. I don’t know what it does yet, but it’s like…it’s waiting for me.”

They walked in silence for a moment, Alira studying him thoughtfully. Finally, she spoke, her voice gentle but amused. “This world shapes itself to those who enter it. Perhaps it’s giving you something familiar, a way to adapt. It senses you are…different.”

Eli considered her words, a weight settling over him. This “world” she spoke of was more than just strange; it was adapting to him. Reflecting, even. It felt ominous, but also strangely empowering.

As they approached the mouth of the cave, Alira paused, looking at him intently. “Whatever this…‘screen’ is, it’s a part of you now. I don’t fully understand it, but I know one thing, Eli.” Her eyes softened, her voice dropping almost to a whisper. “You’re here for a reason, and whatever the reason is…this is the mana trying to adapt itself to you, and making it a little easier for you to adapt to it.”

Eli hesitated, her words sinking in as they stepped into the cave. The space around them narrowed and darkened, the only illumination coming from a soft, floating orb of light she seemed to summon from thin air. It hovered just above her shoulder, casting a warm glow that made the cave’s walls shimmer with faint, iridescent hues.

“So, glowing orbs now? Cool,” Eli said, breaking the silence. “Next, I’m guessing, uh…floating swords? Magic waterfalls? Or do we jump straight to dragons?”

Alira glanced back at him, her expression patient. “No dragons here—not in this part of Caelum, at least. You’d have to travel farther east.”

Her calm response caught him off guard. He raised an eyebrow. “Wait, that wasn’t a joke? Dragons are real?”

She gave him a faint smile. “In this world, many things are real that you might find…unbelievable.”

Eli let out a low whistle, his pace slowing slightly. “Right. Dragons. Why not? Just add it to the list of things that make no sense.” His tone was dry, but his expression betrayed a flicker of unease. After a pause, he muttered, “If the students could see this…”

At the end of the tunnel, the space opened into a wider chamber. Alira stepped inside, and the orb brightened the room to reveal smooth stone walls etched with faint symbols that pulsed with a subtle light. She gestured, and two chairs appeared before her, crafted from a shimmering, silvery material that seemed neither metal nor wood. They looked solid but faintly translucent, as if woven from light itself.

Eli stopped just inside the room, staring at the chairs like they might bite him. “Okay, so either I’m hallucinating, or you just pulled furniture out of thin air. Should I be worried that one of those things might turn into a snake?”

Alira settled gracefully into one of the chairs, gesturing to the other. “They’re just chairs, Eli. Sit. You look like you’re seconds away from tipping over.”

He approached cautiously, nudging the chair with his foot before lowering himself into it. When it didn’t dissolve or turn into a monster, he let out a breath and leaned back. “Alright. Not a death trap. Low bar, but I’ll take it.”

His gaze flicked around the chamber, landing on the glowing symbols. “So…what now? This the part where you tell me I’m the chosen one or that I have to find some mystical sword to save the world?”

Alira folded her hands in her lap, her eyes calm but unyielding. “You’re in Caelum. This land is ancient—one of the oldest known realms. It’s bound together by a force we call mana. Think of mana as the lifeblood of Caelum; it flows through everything and connects us all.”

Eli arched an eyebrow, his lips twitching. “Mana. Got it. Magic glue that holds the world together. Makes about as much sense as anything else today.” He drummed his fingers lightly on the armrest. “So, did this ‘mana’ personally invite me, or was I the lucky winner of some interdimensional sweepstakes?”

Alira’s lips quirked in subtle amusement, but her voice remained gentle. “It’s possible. Mana is…complex. It reacts to life, to need, and to the bonds between realms. If you were brought here, there is a reason, though it may not be clear yet.”

Eli let out a low chuckle, though there wasn’t much humor in it. “Great. Love a good cosmic mystery. Really helps me sleep at night. Can I at least get a hint card or is this one of those ‘figure it out as you go’ deals?”

Alira’s lips quirked at his phrasing, but her tone remained gentle. “It’s possible. Mana is…complex. It reacts to life, to need, and to the bonds between realms. If you were brought here, there is a reason, though it may not be clear yet.”

He nodded slowly, processing her words. “Okay. Mana. But here’s the thing— I don’t feel like a chosen one,” Eli said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I feel like…like I shouldn’t even be here. Sam, Kelly…the others—they should be alive. Not me.”

Alira’s gaze softened, a flicker of something unspoken passing through her eyes. “I’ve carried that weight, too,” she said, her voice low. “It never truly leaves, but sometimes…sometimes it gives us the strength to carry others.”

Alira leaned forward slightly, her expression softening. “I don’t have all the answers, Eli. But this world…Caelum rarely acts without purpose. It may feel chaotic now, but there is a pattern to its ways. If you’re here, it’s because something greater believes you’re meant to be. Loss is never easy, and this world can be…unyielding. I’m sorry, Eli. For what you’ve lost.”

He glanced at her, his expression torn between skepticism and gratitude. “Thanks.” He shifted in his seat, taking a deep breath. “So, if mana connects everything, does that mean it’s in me, too? Is that why I’m seeing…screens? Bars? It’s like I’m living inside a video game.”

Alira nodded, intrigued. “It’s possible. Mana is intuitive—it adapts to the spirit it touches. What you see may be Caelum’s way of helping you make sense of this world.”

“Huh,” Eli said, leaning back in his chair. “So, it’s custom-made for me? That’s…weirdly thoughtful for a world that throws rat-tigers at you first thing.”

Alira allowed herself a small laugh. “Caelum tests, but it also teaches. And it rewards those who listen.”

He considered this, glancing at his hands. His fingers curled instinctively, as though he could feel the mana Alira described coursing beneath his skin. It wasn’t like holding a basketball or gripping the edge of a table—it was something…other. Elusive, but present, humming faintly at the edge of his awareness. “Okay, so I’ve got mana in me. Great. But what am I supposed to do with it? I mean, I’m no wizard or whatever. I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

Alira’s gaze grew thoughtful, her eyes lingering on his clenched fists. “Control comes with time,” she said gently, her voice calm yet firm. “Mana is not something to force—it’s something to understand, to grow with. Think of it like a river: push too hard, and you’ll disrupt its flow; surrender to it completely, and it may sweep you away. To work with mana is to learn its rhythm, to shape its course while respecting its power.”

Eli frowned, studying his hands again. A spark of frustration flickered in his chest. “That’s great and all, but it doesn’t exactly come with an instruction manual.”

Alira tilted her head slightly, her lips curving into a faint smile. “No, it doesn’t. That’s why understanding it will take time. And patience. For many, the academies across Caelum offer a place to begin. These schools teach the foundations of mana—how to channel it, how to hone it—but they aren’t without their faults.”

Eli raised an eyebrow. “Faults? Like what?”

Alira’s smile faded, her expression turning serious. “Some academies have forgotten their purpose. They focus more on advancing their own influence than guiding their students. For some, the lessons are invaluable. For others…they become trapped in politics and power struggles. Not all knowledge is shared freely.”

He let out a low whistle. “So, basically, some of these places are just glorified cliques.”

Her lips quirked again, though her eyes remained sharp. “You could say that. The right academy could help you—if you’re willing to navigate its challenges. But be cautious, Eli. Some of the most important lessons can’t be taught in a classroom. They must be learned through experience.”

Eli leaned back, letting out a breath. “Great. So, I’ve got a mysterious magical force to figure out and a whole world of possibly shady schools to deal with. What’s next, rival wizards?”

Alira chuckled softly, though her gaze softened with understanding. “Mana reflects the person who wields it, Eli. It will demand as much from you as you demand from it. I can guide you—help you find your footing—but much of this journey will still be yours to walk.”

Her words hung in the air, the weight of them settling over him like the cool stone of the cave walls. “So, no shortcuts, huh?” he muttered, half to himself.

“Not the kind worth taking,” Alira replied, her tone carrying a gentle finality. “But I believe the answers you’re looking for will come. If you’re willing to listen.”

Eli was quiet for a moment, his voice softer when he spoke again. “So, what happens if I don’t want to walk it? What if I just…want to go home?”

Her expression turned serious, though not unkind. “I don’t know if that’s possible, Eli. Realms are connected through mana, but if your world lacks it…returning may be difficult. Perhaps even impossible.”

He swallowed hard, his confidence faltering. “Impossible. Great.” He rubbed his hands together, his voice tinged with frustration. “So, what? I just live here now? Start a farm? Build a hut in the woods?”

Alira watched him, her tone gentle but firm. “If you’re here, it’s because this world believes you have a place in it. I know that’s not the answer you want, but the answers you seek may only come if you’re willing to see them.”

Eli looked up at her, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You talk like this world has a personality. Like it’s alive.”

“It is,” she said simply, her voice steady. “And it’s watching you, Eli. Just as I am.”

For a long moment, he didn’t speak, his thoughts heavy and conflicted. Finally, he leaned back with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. Guess I’ll start with…whatever the first step is. But if dragons show up, I’m out.”

Alira smiled faintly. “That’s a fair boundary.” Eli let out a shaky breath, glancing around the cave, as if the walls themselves might offer some answers. “So, we’re… where? In Caelum, you said?”

Alira nodded. “Yes, we’re in Caelum. Specifically, this region is called Arindral.” She gestured around, as if the world outside were alive and listening. “It’s a land of dense forests, wild mountains, and creatures unlike anything you’ve seen. We’re on the edge of the forest, near the heart of Arindral.”

Eli leaned back, feeling a strange weight settle over him. “Arindral…Caelum…Mana…” His voice trailed off as he tried to process it all, his fingers curling tightly around the arms of the chair.

Eli sighed, feeling a weight settle over him again, but Alira’s warmth softened it. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“Not really,” she replied, smiling. “But don’t worry. I think you’ll find that, in time, this world might be just as fascinating as it is frustrating.” She studied him for a moment. “Who knows? You might even enjoy it.”

Eli’s shoulders sagged as he let out a heavy sigh, looking down at his hands. “So…is it even possible for me to go home? Can I get back to my world?” His voice was a mixture of desperation and disbelief, the weight of his situation pressing down on him.

Alira looked at him for a long moment, her gaze softening as she considered his words. “I… I can’t say for certain,” she began, her tone gentle but carrying the weight of her years of wisdom. “But if a path was made once—if the fabric of the realms allowed your world and Caelum to connect—then perhaps there’s a way for that path to be made again.”

She paused, her expression troubled, her eyes searching as though she were contemplating a vast network of possibilities. “Caelum, and many realms beyond it, are connected through mana. It’s what links us all. But if your world, your realm, lacks mana entirely…well, that would be unlike anything I’ve seen.”

Eli stared at her, confusion clouding his thoughts. Alira stood, pacing slowly in the dimly lit cave, the flickering fire casting long shadows on the stone walls. “There are many realms, Eli. Some closer, others more distant, each one woven through the flow of mana. But a world without mana…” She stopped, as if weighing her next words. “If it exists at all, mana there might be hidden or so limited that it goes undetected. Or perhaps mana manifests differently—something you’d never recognize because it doesn’t look the same as it does here.”

Eli blinked, struggling to absorb what she was saying. “So…you’re telling me that there might be mana back home, but I just don’t know what it looks like?”

“Exactly,” Alira replied, nodding thoughtfully. “If mana exists in your world in some subtle form, then maybe it’s always been with you. Perhaps your connection to Caelum’s mana isn’t as new as it feels. It might be a deeper part of you, one that you just haven’t uncovered.”

Eli ran a hand through his hair, a flare of frustration rising in him. “So, what does that mean for me? How do I go back? I can’t just sit here and hope it all works out.”

Alira’s eyes softened, a quiet sadness passing over her face. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, Eli. I’ve seen much in my time, but this…this is beyond anything I’ve encountered.” She hesitated, then met his gaze with a gentle steadiness. “But just because something is unfamiliar doesn’t mean it’s impossible. You’re here, aren’t you? That means something—a force, a purpose—brought you here for a reason. I believe your journey is only beginning, and it may be tied to something far larger than you can see.”

She stepped closer, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I’ll help you however I can, Eli. But to find your way home, you may need to do more than search for a path—you may need to understand the nature of mana within you and how it connects both to Caelum and to your own world.”