Elion’s footsteps echoed softly against the cold stone as he moved deeper into the labyrinthine corridors of the Blackstone estate. The chaos outside, where spells clashed and lives were lost, was now distant. The walls of the servants’ quarters provided him a temporary shield from the violence, but he knew that soon, those same walls would be little more than a cage.
His fingers absently traced the outline of the jade talisman hidden beneath his shirt. It felt heavier than it should, like a physical burden, though it was no larger than a coin. He couldn’t stop thinking about Elder Faros’ words. *The Dark Sage. The forbidden path. Real power.*
Elion had heard the stories. The Dark Sage was a myth, a tale told in hushed tones to frighten children and warn apprentices about the dangers of uncontrolled ambition. According to legend, the Dark Sage had been a powerful mage who defied the very laws of the world. He had wielded a magic so twisted and corrupt that the heavens themselves had conspired to destroy him. The Blackstone Clan, like all the major houses, had long banished any mention of his name from their official histories. Yet, the legend lived on in the shadows.
Now, Elion carried the key to that legend in his hands.
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**The Servants’ Quarters**
The quarters were eerily quiet, the usual chatter and hum of activity snuffed out by the fear that clung to the air. The other servants were hiding, no doubt praying that they wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire of the clan’s power struggle. No one noticed as Elion slipped through the narrow halls, his mind racing.
Elion knew he had little time. The estate was a battlefield, and eventually, the assassins or the clan’s own soldiers would sweep through every corner, erasing any witnesses, especially insignificant ones like him. But his mind was no longer on mere survival.
Elder Faros had handed him a lifeline, an escape from the life he had always known, and he wasn’t about to let that chance slip away.
He found a small alcove near the outer edge of the quarters—a storage room rarely used except for broken tools and discarded supplies. The scent of damp wood and rusted metal filled the air as Elion closed the door behind him and crouched in the darkness. He reached into his shirt and pulled out the talisman, holding it up to the dim light that filtered in from a crack in the ceiling.
The jade stone was rough and worn with age, its surface etched with symbols Elion couldn’t recognize. But as his eyes traced the intricate patterns, he felt something stirring within him, a cold presence that made his skin prickle.
He focused on the talisman, holding it tightly, willing it to reveal its secrets. Nothing happened at first, just the heavy silence of the storage room. But then, slowly, he began to hear a faint whisper, like the soft rustle of leaves in the wind.
*Seek the truth beneath the lies. The power you desire lies not in light but in shadow. Embrace the darkness, and it will guide you.*
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
The voice was barely audible, more a feeling than sound, but it resonated deep within Elion’s soul. He closed his eyes, letting the words wash over him. Something inside him shifted, a barrier he hadn’t known existed breaking away. He felt the chill of the talisman spread through his fingers and up his arm, coursing through his veins like ice.
When he opened his eyes, the room had changed.
The familiar clutter of the storage room had melted away, replaced by a vast emptiness. Elion stood in the center of a boundless void, the walls and ceiling of the room no longer visible. Above him, the sky—or what passed for it—was a swirling mass of dark clouds and faint, flickering lights. The ground beneath his feet was cold and smooth, like polished obsidian.
*Where am I?*
The whisper came again, clearer now, echoing all around him. *You stand at the threshold of the Path. To claim its power, you must first embrace the truth of your insignificance. The world has forgotten you, but in this place, you can become something more.*
Elion’s pulse quickened, but he steadied his breathing, forcing himself to remain calm. He had heard of spaces like this, places between reality and dreams, where magic flowed more freely. The older mages called them “spiritual realms,” pockets of existence that defied the normal rules of the physical world. He had never imagined he would experience one himself, much less be pulled into it by a talisman.
A shadowy figure materialized in the distance, slowly approaching. It had no distinct features, just a vague, humanoid shape, its form constantly shifting like smoke in the wind. As it drew closer, Elion felt an overwhelming pressure settle on his chest, as if the air itself had grown heavier.
“Who are you?” Elion asked, his voice steady but laced with caution.
The figure stopped a few paces away. When it spoke, its voice was like a chorus of whispers, each one layered over the other. “I am a reflection of what you seek. Power, knowledge, freedom—these are the desires that brought you here.”
Elion narrowed his eyes. “You speak of power, but what is this path? What must I do to claim it?”
The shadow rippled, its form flickering for a moment. “To walk the path of the Dark Sage, you must abandon the rules of this world. The clan’s laws, the moral codes of lesser men, they are chains meant to bind you. Break those chains, and the darkness will embrace you.”
Elion hesitated. He had always known the world he lived in was unforgiving, but to forsake all its rules? To step into a life where morality and conscience had no place? The thought chilled him, yet it also stirred something within him—an undeniable hunger for more than the life of a forgotten servant.
“I will walk the path,” Elion said finally, his voice resolute. “Tell me what I must do.”
The shadow’s form expanded, tendrils of dark mist swirling around it. “You must prove your worth. The first test lies not in strength, but in understanding. Knowledge is the foundation of all power, and ignorance is death.”
Before Elion could respond, the shadow reached out, and the void around them shifted. The smooth obsidian ground splintered, giving way to a massive stone platform surrounded by darkness. At the center of the platform, a stone pillar jutted up from the ground, etched with the same symbols that covered the talisman.
Elion stepped forward cautiously, his gaze locked on the pillar. As he approached, the symbols began to glow, faint at first, then brighter, casting an eerie green light across the platform. The air grew heavy with a sense of ancient power, and Elion could feel the weight of countless eyes watching him from the shadows.
The talisman in his hand pulsed in rhythm with the glowing symbols, and Elion realized what he had to do. He reached out and placed the talisman into the shallow depression at the top of the pillar.
The moment it made contact, the ground beneath him trembled. The darkness around the platform seemed to draw closer, swirling like a storm. The symbols flared brighter, blinding him for a moment before fading into nothingness.
When his vision cleared, he found himself no longer standing on the platform. He was back in the storage room, the cold stone floor beneath him and the scent of dust and rust filling the air once more. But something was different—he could feel it in his very bones.
The talisman was gone from his hand, but he felt its presence inside him now, as though it had fused with his soul. A part of him had changed, irrevocably. He could sense the ebb and flow of magic more keenly than before, the dark energies swirling around him, waiting to be commanded.
But with that newfound awareness came a darker truth—he was no longer safe. The moment he had touched the path of the Dark Sage, he had set events in motion that could not be undone.
Elion stood, his heart still racing. His journey had only just begun, and already, he had taken a step into the unknown. Whatever came next, he knew one thing for certain: there would be no turning back.
The shadows around him whispered of power, but they also warned of the dangers that lay ahead. The clan, the assassins, the forces beyond the estate—they would all come for him soon enough. But for the first time in his life, Elion was no longer powerless.
And that would make all the difference.
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