Chapter 22

The Invitation

In the quiet, sun-drenched corridors of Xerkes Academy, Adom walked with purpose, his footsteps echoing softly against the ancient stone walls. The morning light filtered through the tall, arched windows, casting elongated shadows that danced along the floor. There was a sense of timelessness in these halls, a reminder of the countless sorcerers who had walked here before him.

As he neared the corner leading to Professor Mohagan's office, a familiar figure caught his eye. Damus, his presence as commanding as ever, stood at the other end of the hallway. Their gazes locked, a silent acknowledgment of their recent, tumultuous duel and for a fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still.

Damus's eyes were dark pools of emotion, swirling with something akin to hatred. His stare was piercing, almost tangible in its intensity, but he said nothing.

Before Adom could muster a word, the sound of approaching footsteps diverted his attention. A group of academy guards, their armor clinking softly, were following Damus at a discreet distance. The sight was unusual – the academy rarely assigned guards to students, except in exceptional circumstances.

Damus, aware of the guards' presence, cast a final look at Adom, a glare that conveyed a silent, bitter message. Without a word, he turned and walked away, his steps measured and deliberate, the guards trailing behind him like shadows tethered to their host.

Adom watched them leave, a myriad of emotions swirling within him. The sight of Damus being shadowed by guards raised questions. Was it for his protection? Or was it a consequence of their duel? Damus's status as one of the academy's top students made the situation even more intriguing.

Shaking off the momentary distraction, Adom turned his attention back to his own path. Professor Mohagan's office was just a few steps away, the door standing tall and imposing. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation ahead.

Adom rapped his knuckles against the sturdy oak door of Professor Mohagan's office, a soft echo resonating through the hallway. "Enter," came the deep, authoritative voice from within.

Pushing the door open, Adom stepped into the room, his expression a mask of composed neutrality. The office, bathed in the warm glow of the morning sun, felt more imposing than usual.

Professor Mohagan, seated behind his cluttered desk, looked up from a pile of documents. "Mr. Sylla, it took you long enough. I recall instructing Mr. Genji to have you visit me immediately after you woke up," he said, his tone a mix of reprimand and curiosity.

Adom's patience, already worn thin by the day's events, frayed at the edges. "With all due respect, Professor, I find your handling of the duel with Damus highly irresponsible," he began, his voice steady and unyielding. The memories and mindset of his sixty-five-year-old self lent him a confidence that few students could muster, especially in the presence of a ranker like Mohagan.

Mohagan's eyebrows rose in surprise, a flicker of amusement crossing his features before he chuckled softly. "I see," he said, a smile creeping onto his face. "My apologies, Mr. Sylla. I admit, my curiosity got the better of me."

Leaning back in his chair, Mohagan's demeanor shifted to one of genuine interest. "You see, your case is quite exceptional. Shadowfade Syndrome is one of the deadliest and most painful illnesses known, affecting a mere 0.03% of the world's population. The patients rarely make it past the age of 20*, after suffering a life worse than death. And you, Mr. Sylla, are the only known survivor."

Adom's expression remained guarded, but his interest was piqued. Mohagan's words hinted at a broader context to his miraculous recovery.

"You might not be aware, given your confinement within these academy walls, but your name has become quite the sensation in the sorcerer society," Mohagan continued, his eyes locked onto Adom's. "Every corner of our world is buzzing with the tale of Adom Sylla, the boy who defied death."

Adom lingered at the threshold of Professor Mohagan's office, the weight of the conversation still pressing on him. Mohagan's voice, carrying a mix of admonition and intrigue, pulled him back to the present.

"And as if your recovery wasn't miraculous enough, you managed to take down five of your classmates – individuals who, under normal circumstances, shouldn't have been defeated so easily, especially by someone freshly recovered from such an ordeal." Mohagan's expression was a complex tapestry of concern, skepticism, and a trace of admiration. "Did you truly think such actions wouldn't attract attention, Mr. Sylla?"

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Adom turned to face the professor, his stance firm and his gaze unwavering. "I acted in self-defense and in defense of my friend. I had no intention of attracting attention, but neither could I stand idly by while others were harmed."

Mohagan leaned against his desk, his fingers tapping a rhythmic pattern on the wood. "Your actions, while understandable, have put you under a microscope. The sorcerer community is abuzz with questions about your sudden prowess. To them, it's as if you've gone from a flickering candle to a roaring blaze overnight."

Adom's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "I am aware of the scrutiny, Professor. But I cannot change what has already happened. My only option is to move forward and face whatever comes."

The air in Professor Mohagan's office thickened with tension as he broke one of the unspoken rules among sorcerers. Rising from his chair, he approached Adom, his steps deliberate and measured. "Mr. Sylla," he began, his voice carrying a gravity that filled the room, "the tacit rule among our kind is to never inquire into the secret of another's powers. But circumstances compel me to ask," he paused, his gaze piercing.

Adom stood there, his posture calm yet his mind a whirlpool of thoughts. The weight of Mohagan's scrutiny bore down on him, pressing for answers he could not give. His heart pounded a steady rhythm, a drum of wariness and caution. 'What exactly have you done, Adom?' the question echoed in his head, a probing lance aimed at the core of his secret.

He knew the tales, the legends of individuals who had supposedly traversed time, reshaping history and ascending to thrones of power. The Scarlet Emperor, a figure shrouded in myth, was said to be one such individual. But these were stories for children, fairy tales woven to entertain and inspire. The truth of his situation, his pact with 'Death,' was a reality far removed from these fantasies.

Adom's mind raced, evaluating his options. To reveal the truth was to court madness – at best, disbelief and dismissal; at worst, a beacon calling to forces and interests he wished to avoid. The temptation to attribute his recovery to his bonding with the phoenix loomed, yet he knew such an explanation would only serve to intensify the scrutiny upon him.

He needed to deflect, to preserve the veil over his past and safeguard his future plans. There was no evidence, no tangible trace of his deal with 'Death.' It was a secret locked within the confines of his soul, a pact sealed beyond the reach of prying eyes and curious minds.

Gathering his resolve, Adom met Mohagan's gaze with a mix of defiance and sincerity. "Professor, I wish I had an answer for you. But the truth is, I don't know what happened. I am as surprised as anyone by my recovery and the changes it brought."

The silence between them was heavy, filled with unspoken questions and the weight of Adom's concealed truth. Mohagan studied him, his eyes searching for a hint of deception, a crack in the facade. But Adom's expression remained unyielding, a mask of polite bewilderment and honesty.

Adom's heart raced as he contemplated his next move. Doubts and plans tangled in his mind like a knotted web. Should he abandon his carefully laid plans? Should he hasten to find his parents and flee Atlas before the impending invasion? On the surface, though, he maintained a perfect facade of normalcy, a mask hiding the turmoil within.

Then, breaking the silence, Mohagan spoke, his voice carrying a note of conviction. "I see, I believe you." He settled back into his chair, gesturing for Adom to do the same.

Adom, caught off guard by Mohagan's acceptance, hesitated before asking, "You... believe me? Don't get me wrong, Professor, I did not lie. But how come you just accept my word? No questions asked?"

Mohagan's brown eyes met Adom's blue ones, shining with a sincere light. He smiled, a rare expression that softened the usually stern lines of his face. "Well, Adom," he began, "our world is governed by magic. It permeates every facet of our lives, yet the truth is, we understand very little of its true nature."

He leaned forward, his voice carrying the weight of years of experience and wisdom. "Your 'anomaly' is not impossible, since it happened. I did not detect any trace of forbidden magic on you." At those words, a shiver ran down Adom's spine, the realization hitting him that Mohagan had already scanned him for any signs of illicit sorcery.

Mohagan continued, "Humans are inherently curious, and we often fear what we cannot comprehend. I am no exception. But in your case, I do not believe you lied. Perhaps you were just extraordinarily lucky."

Adom sat motionless in Professor Mohagan's office, his mind whirling with a mix of relief and disbelief. He could hardly believe that his fabricated explanation had been accepted so readily. The weight of his secret past and future plans hung heavily on him, but for now, they remained his own. His heart, which had been pounding like a drum in his chest, began to settle into a more regular rhythm.

Breaking the momentary silence, Mohagan spoke again, his voice taking on a different tone. "But that's not why I wanted to see you." He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out an object. Adom's eyes widened in curiosity as he watched Mohagan's movements. The professor placed a complex polygonal metal object on the desk. It was adorned with intricate runes, each line and curve etched with precision, creating a mesmerizing pattern that seemed to dance under the light.

Adom leaned forward, his eyes tracing the runes, recognizing their complexity and the skill required to inscribe them. The object exuded an aura of mystery and challenge, piquing his interest.

Mohagan's voice broke through his examination. "This, Mr. Sylla, is an invitation, well, more like a puzzle."

Adom's gaze shifted from the object to Mohagan, a look of confusion crossing his face. A puzzle? What did this have to do with anything?

Sensing Adom's silent query, Mohagan elaborated, "During our class yesterday, I noticed that some students, including yourself, demonstrated capabilities far beyond what is expected at the second-year level. In fact, you could easily match our fourth years."

Adom's brow furrowed slightly, trying to grasp where Mohagan was leading with this. The professor's next words, however, brought a sudden clarity.

"I would like you to participate in the next Olympiads."

Adom immediatly understood what all this was about.