The first hints of consciousness arrived in the form of utter exhaustion. Aches littered my body, all in questionable places and from sources I couldn’t quite recall. I knew I had passed out at some point during my day, but I struggled to remember how.

I could only hope it wasn’t Monday. If I had work today, if I somehow had to bring myself up from this miserable slumber back to that awful place…

But wasn’t I fired already? I was. I could stay in bed for as long as I wished, doing nothing all day long. Just a few more hours… After that, surely, I could bring myself to stop being such a useless member of society.

Who would really care if I slept all day? My colleagues, the people I had come to consider friends, forgot my existence the moment I was fired. My brother had pestered me into improvement but had quickly given up when his own life got in the way. My mother would ask for money, deeming me a useless son when I failed to provide.

Was there anyone who would congratulate me if I, for once, succeeded in my life?

A flash of light caught my eye. I squinted, as if I was some puppy unlocking sight for the first time.

A white marble roof stood over me, lit by an awfully bright white gooey lamp. The tips of wooden sticks edged my vision, as if some trick-or-treaters were performing spells around my sleeping body. I clutched my bed sheets. The fabric seemed awfully clean for the state my apartment was usually in.

What the fuck? I noted, then paused. This was not my apartment at all.

I sprung up from bed, hitting my head against one of the wooden sticks. Consciousness returned like a light bulb flickering on, surroundings finally registering as reality. Richness covered the room. Shiny surfaces and sturdy walls reminiscent of a hospital room, and a comfy bed underneath me.

Half a dozen women surrounded my bed. They wore white magely robes, all equipped with active staves casting spells on my person.

I panicked and was about to flail my arms to scare away the bad mages when I realized my limbs barely moved. My skin was bruised purple, body pinching all over the place. Even breathing hurt like hell.

“A miracle,” one of the mages said. She lowered her staff. “Well done, my assistants. Treat the remaining bruises. The man is far from a healthy recovery.”

She was a tall woman in a white and silver robe. A halo-like tiara rested on her smooth hair. I stared in awe. Her robe was like a godly gown, something I could imagine Shiela wearing, though the woman was clearly human. Years of experience and wisdom radiated from her eyes, yet she appeared no older than thirty years old. With this world’s beauty standards, she could have been fifty for all I knew.

“Who are you?” I gushed. And before she could answer, I asked in a burst, “My friends! Where are they? A fairy-looking mage, and a regular-looking mage? A red-haired swordsman? Are they okay?”

“I ask you to calm down, good sir, and the situation will clear one lesson at a time,” the royal mage said. “I am Ausrine, the Sacred Priest. As the commoners call me, the ‘King’s healer.’ The name alone should inform you of the severity of the situation you have tangled yourself in.”

The King’s healer? What in Shiela’s name had happened to me?

“Where am I?” I asked. “Are they still here? The cultists?”

“You, my good sir, have died and been revived back to life four times tonight,” Ausrine said.

I paused.

“Twelve hours,” Ausrine said. “That is how long my healers have watched over you. Twelve hours of life support from the best miracle workers in all of Kroses Sol, and we managed to wake you back to life. You could not have chosen a luckier city to die in.”

The staves of the remaining mages continued casting healing spells on my body. The effects didn’t feel too bad. My bruises stung with each spell, but it was the good kind of stinging, the kind you get when applying antiseptic to an infected wound. I wore nothing but underwear, though the mages worked with professionalism, uncaring of my near nakedness.

“I was scorched alive, wasn’t I?” I asked.

“The burns were but a flesh wound,” Ausrine said. “What nearly killed you was daze powder, and the unprotected inhalation of seemingly a vial’s worth. Moons know why you decided this was a good idea, but I suspect you will be reminded of the consequences for a long time to come.”

I stared at the burn marks littering my previously hairy legs. An itch poked at my scalp. I scratched the spot, only for my eyes to shoot up wide. “Where’s my hair!”

“That,” Ausrine said. “Is unfortunately one of said consequences.”

I sat still in shock. A fucking flesh wound, she said, and my hair was totally scorched off my head. Hell, I had looked awful with smooth skin and a head full of hair; any worse than that and I could imagine myself appearing like a disheveled piece of rotten meat.

My appearance felt irrelevant amongst the canvas of problems.

I’d used the system again. Blasted tens of spells at Jordan Feryah and Rigrith. What had happened to Jordan? I struggled to recall. Something told me he had survived, despite the ridiculous power of my spells.

The system had saved my life. I was no longer captured by cultists. Shiela damn me to hell, but her spells actually proved useful for once in my life.

An awful pressure pinched at my heart, and it had nothing to do with my wounds or aches. I could barely breathe over the anticipation welling up in my throat, as if I was some stupid teenager in love.

Remy. My teacher. Last I saw, she was alive, saved from certain death by my spells. So were my other two allies. I prayed to Shiela this was still the case.

“The second consequence relates to your future as a mage,” Ausrine said. “Your actions in our country have been foolish. I hope you understand the severity of the risks you have taken.”

“Where are my friends?” I asked through a rough breath. “Are they okay?”

Ausrine looked me in the eye. “You truly don’t understand what you are tangled in, my good awakener. I fear you will not see your friends any time soon, nor do you have time to concern yourself with problems that are not your own.”

“What?” I gushed. “But…”

“From now on and for the rest of your life,” Ausrine said, “curiosity is not what will drive your questions. Such is the life of an awakener. You are a captive of the King’s first priority. You are a prisoner, until evidence points to innocence. An investigation into your person has already started, though the little details are not of current importance. What is of our absolute priority, is to plan out your future as a mage.”

What the hell? I thought. Another wave of panicked worry washed over me. “What do you mean? What’s happening to me? Where am I?”

“You are resting in the temple of Arkber, delivered to me personally as an emergency,” Ausrine said. “Ordinarily, the Sacred Priest is not known for working on simple casualties. Your Hallowed mana chords, however, are far too valuable to let go to waste.”

“I was brought here?” I asked. “By who?”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“Questions are not important,” Ausrine said. “What matters is the present situation, and the fact that your mana chords are untreated and in desperate need of a teacher.”

“Uhm,” I blurted out. “I don’t think all this is necessary. I would like to get out of here…”

“A recent awakener’s fate is always a nation’s first priority,” Ausrine said. “What makes you think you’re an exception?”

“I am a learned student of James Adamson from the town of America. You, um, have no need to teach me a second time.”

Ausrine’s brows furrowed. “Please. I do not wish to talk to you like I would a child. Our informants have admitted to everything. You are a total beginner. Lies will only make your future worse than it already is.”

What informants! I thought. Who the hell spilled the beans?

“The Corruption must be quelled,” Ausrine said. “And thus, you must understand what happens next. Attempt to lie once more, and my mages will leave your bruises for nature to heal.”

“Uhm, yes…” I said weakly. “I will comply. But please, can I see them? My friends. Just once, to know they’re okay.”

“Your friends have abandoned you,” Ausrine said with a scowl. “Their fates are not of your concern.”

What? Abandoned? No. They wouldn’t. This was a lie.

“Darko, the Wyvern Slayer, has admitted to his crimes and been arrested,” Ausrine said. “He does not intend to save you back to his criminal group. The legend of your former party has ended, and it will never spark again.”

I felt my inner organs attempting to escape through my mouth. “What about the other two? The mages? Are they alive?”

“I would not know,” Ausrine said. “And I remind you, your criminal friends are irrelevant. I recommend forgetting their existence before your wishes grow into trouble. For the next months, every thought in your head will be directed towards the study of magic.”

I sat in place, letting the healers work on my body. What the hell was this? Ausrine was lying, I knew she was. My friends couldn’t have abandoned me.

Right?

“If you finally understand, let us proceed.” Ausrine signaled for the uniformed man at the doors. “Butler. Inform the officials of the awakener’s wakeup. We are to proceed immediately.”

The servant bowed, then scurried off to follow orders.

I had no more lies to spout. I waited in nervous silence, thoughts spinning in circles. The servant returned two minutes later. Along with him strolled the most authoritative woman I had yet come across. She was dressed much like Shena, in common robes and stockings. Difference was, her outfit and staff were littered with medals and symbols, embroidery, and other nonsensical ornaments on top. A classy black braid hung over her shoulder. She stepped into the room with confidence, followed by a personal servant.

Her spectacled gaze landed on me with the energy of a strict and overly serious teacher. I sat in baffled fear of whatever fate had prepared for me this time.

Ausrine and her servants offered a slight bow. “Ceanna St. Clair,” Ausrine said. “The chief of recruitment. A representative and an official of the Mages’ Association. A phenomenal mage, and the best of teachers. It is an honor to have you.”

“Thank you, Ausrine,” Ceanna said. “Seeing as this awakener’s fate is already pressed for time, I ask your mages to continue the process. It would not be proper of me to distrust the King’s best mages. Healers, please forget every word of this conversation when you step out of this room.”

“Our words are sealed by the Moons’ all-seeing light,” Ausrine said with a small bow.

Ceanna nodded, then faced me, as if nobody else in the room existed beside me and her. “Outsider, Cilan. An awakener smuggled in by a Guild Master in Volés. This was the extent of information offered to me by informants, who seem to be just as clueless about your origins as our investigators. It is not uncommon for strangers to show up on my recruitment list, though you are by far the oddest arrival I have ever received.”

Who the hell are you, and why are you here! I wished to ask. Instead, my nervous ass said, “Uhm, yes.”

“Your rich background was hinted at,” Ceanna said. “Your lineage and connections, however, are deemed secondary from the moment you entered Kroses Sol. By trotting our lands, legally or illegally, you have admitted to the rule of the Mages’ Association. We seek to ensure that no untrained mages walk the lands of the Krose. If you cannot prove your control over mana or cannot prove you are currently taught by a licensed teacher, the Association has no choice but to treat you as a possible threat.”

I stared at her with my eyes struggling to focus, barely understanding half of what she was saying. My emotions were a total mess. Why couldn’t these people just tell me what happened to my friends?

“This leaves you with two options,” Ceanna said. “To accept teachings by the Mages’ Association, or to leave the country with your own, while escorted out by a force powerful enough to suppress a possible rogue escape. Seeing as I have been invited, I assume you are inclined towards the former.”

Darko wouldn’t abandon the plan so quickly, would he? What about his promise to protect me! What about all our plans? Surely, Darko hadn’t sent me here?

“Unfortunately, I cannot leave you with time to ponder this decision,” Ceanna continued. “Your lessons will commence immediately from the moment you are physically capable of stepping out of this bed. Before that, however, I require your name. Your true name, the one tied to you at birth.”

“Cillian,” I said, seeing no opportunity to lie, though my heart was racing. This was insanity! “Cillian Bermeyer.”

Ceanna signaled to her servant, who delivered a piece of parchment. Then, she scribbled something onto the paper, presumably my name. Ceanna showed the paper to me. “The final step is to sign the contract. All I require is a drop of your blood with your willingness to follow my teachings, and I can guarantee, the Corruption will not turn you crazy.”

My brain totally blanked. Darko, that motherfucker. Didn’t he promise to take care of me? Why, then, had he abandoned me to this shithole? Surely, I wasn’t supposed to be here!

“Could you…” I managed to ask, “read the contract for me, please?”

“Very well,” Ceanna said. “Though, know that your chances of disputing its contents are slim.” She read out the parchment.

“Cillian Bermeyer, the recent awakener of Hallowed mana chords, is tied to the Mages’ Association to be trained under licensed teacher Ceanna St. Clair. The subject will follow each agreement with devotion, the terms of which are reinforced by a forceful contract.

“One. The subject cannot refuse the orders of the designated teacher. If given an order, the student must complete the specified task, even if this means the subject must risk death for the task to be completed. Leisure and rest are not allowed unless deemed otherwise.

“Two. The subject cannot escape the perimeters of designated premises. If the student does not know whether they have the right to step to specific perimeters, they must stay confined before receiving permission for otherwise.

“Three…”

The terms continued. As I listened, my views of the world got less and less bright. In short, if I signed this behemoth of a contract, my life would play out exactly as my future teacher demanded. Ceanna could order me to jump down a well as punishment, and I would have no choice but to comply. And if I ever happened to fail at whatever her tasks asked me to do, I didn’t have much choice but to bash my head against a wall and hope I miraculously succeeded.

Hell, just yesterday I was complaining that Remy’s teachings were too hard, and that I would have given up if I ever had the chance. Now, Remy was like my golden savior. I wished to see her so badly, if only to make sure she hadn’t been harmed by Rigrith and his junkies.

Was it too much to ask? Just to see my friends?

One thing was clear. There was no way in hell I could ever sign that contract.

“With that, the terms are concluded,” Ceanna said. “Was anything unclear?”

“Can I at least see the Wyvern Slayer first?” I asked. “Just long enough to punch him in the face.”

“This would take far too much time,” Ceanna said. “You, of course, are allowed to meet your old master if fate so wishes. Yet, fate is often cruel. This is a fact most mages learn sooner than later. Everyone, including I, had to be trained with a contract similar to this. If it helps make you feel better, a man of your talent is bound to rise the ranks of the Association, as long as your loyalty is confirmed.

“And if that, too, is not enough to persuade you… Know that the true hell arrives to those who refuse to learn. To those who fight fate, pretending as if they never awakened in the first place. If that is what you choose, I am afraid your life will be cut rather short.”

“No,” I said. “I’m not doing this.”

Ceanna raised her eyebrows. “Are you telling me you would rather fall to the Corruption, and for us to kill you in your madness?”

“What if,” I asked, “I could prove to you that I don’t need a teacher? What if I can prove I can cast magic, and that the Corruption is not an issue? Can I leave this place, then?”

“That would be impossible for a recent awakener.” Ceanna's eyes gradually grew impatient. “However, it would deem you free of responsibility. The Association would no longer have a reason to chase you.”

I let out a small chuckle. This was my life, wasn’t it? I was already too deep. As much as I wanted to live my own damn peaceful life, as much as I tried to promise myself I would not delve into Shiela’s system, it seemed I had no choice but to perform the play the Goddess was pulling me into.

“What if I told you…” I said. “That I am not actually a recent awakener at all. And that whatever your informants have claimed, it’s all total lies.”