Still recovering from his previous bout with Vesper, Erik was thrust back into the training hall at an unrelenting pace. Erik found himself in front of Gretch, the older goblin trainer with a missing eye and a penchant for cryptic lessons. Gretch had been tasked with teaching Erik the fundamentals of elemental manipulation; a task that seemed to delight the goblin in the most twisted way possible.

It was said that the smarter the goblin, the older it was, and this one had a certain glint of cunning in his yellow eyes that spoke of a lifetime filled with battles.

“Stupid human! You feel yet?” Gretch snapped, whacking Erik on the shoulder with a heavy wooden rod.

“No feel, no magic! Feel or die!”

Erik winced, trying to focus on the energy he had sensed earlier. Gretch had a way of making everything sound life or death, usually by threatening Erik with some gruesome fate if he failed.

“Close eyes. Feel air. Feel earth. They talk to you, stupid human.” Gretch barked, his breath reeking of rotten fish.

“You no listen, you die. Simple!”

Erik closed his eyes, trying to block out Gretch’s voice, trying to feel the elements around him. He took a deep breath, letting the air fill his lungs, trying to connect with it. Slowly, he began to feel it; a breeze that seemed to dance around him, a gentle whisper in his mind.

“Mhmmm,” Gretch grunted, nodding.

Erik focused, trying to move the air, to bend it to his will. It was difficult, like trying to push against a heavy weight, but he could feel it responding, slowly and reluctantly.

“Maybe not so stupid.. Still Stupid Human. Still Weak” Gretch muttered, his lips twitching

Gretch threw Erik a plain sword with a dull shipped blade.

“Sword like arm. Stuff feeling into arm.” The goblin paused, his nose twitching as he considered Erik.

Erik took the sword, frowning at Gretch. “Stuff… Into arm”

“Like this!” Gretch’s arm shot out, and his own wooden rod ignited in a greenish flame that flickered with an eerie glow.

“See? Put feeling into blade stupid. Like breathing… but like a fish”

***

As the session ended Erik dropped onto a bench, exhausted, his body covered in sweat. The goblin trainer, unfazed, grabbed a piece of meat from the nearby table; a hunk of something unidentifiable and tore into it with a loud crunch, the stench wafting toward Erik, making his stomach turn.

Dominion approached handing Erik a flask of water.

“You’re improving,” he said, his voice as unreadable as ever.

“If you say so…” Erik said, wiping the sweat away from his brow.

Erik took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly as he raised the cup of water to his lips. The cool liquid soothed his dry throat, but it did little to ease the storm of thoughts raging in his mind. His gaze locked onto Dominion, unyielding and sharp.

“Did they know what I was?” Erik asked, his voice still hoarse but steady.

“The ones who implanted the demon, did they know I was a Lethri?”

Dominion tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing with a flicker of intrigue.

“What makes you ask that?” he replied, his tone calm but edged with curiosity.

Erik hesitated, his jaw tightening.

“The things they did; the way it all happened, all the way up to this point. It doesn’t feel like an accident. And if they didn’t know, why go through all the trouble?”

Dominion’s expression shifted ever so slightly, the faintest shadow of amusement crossing his features.

“Interesting.”

He clasped his hands behind his back as though considering his words carefully.

“The cultists you speak of; what they knew, or thought they knew- was… incomplete at best. They sought power, as all mortals do, but their understanding was limited.”

He paused in a moment of consideration.

“But their ignorance worked in your favor, didn’t it? The demon they so clumsily bound to you remains chained, your core intact. You are... an anomaly.”

Erik frowned, his mind racing.

“And you? Did you know them? Did you have a hand in what they were doing?”

Dominion’s lips curled into a faint smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I knew of them. Fools, most of them. Playing with forces they couldn’t begin to comprehend. But even a fool can spark something greater…something with potential.”

Erik’s shoulders stiffened at the word.

“Potential,” he echoed, his voice tight.

“You’ve said that before. What does that mean? Why is my core so different?”

“Because it’s empty. Pure, but empty. Most cores are vessels filled with energy; mana passed down, shared, cultivated over generations. Yours is barren. A void.”

He paused, his tone growing softer, almost reverent.

“And a that void can be filled with anything. That is your potential.”

Erik frowned, the weight of Dominion’s words settling uneasily in his chest.

“What are you talking about?” Erik said confused.

“I’ve always been a Lethri… I’ve never had the ability to use any magic”

Dominions gaze shifted to Eriks chest, and pointed one of his gloved fingers

“That would be incorrect. A Lethri is simply someone who does not know how to access their magic, or has something restricting it… such as a slave collar or a binding magical agreement”

Eriks brow creased,

“so, I could always use Magic… and now that I have a demonic fun sucker sharing my core, my magic is suddenly demon oriented?”

“No, Erik.” Dominion responded gently.

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“How can you be a Lethri,” Dominion said, his tone calm but laced with intrigue,

“When your core holds no magic to draw upon? It’s not your inability to access magic that sets you apart…it’s the absence of magic within your core itself that makes you extraordinary.”

Erik sat eyes gazing downward to the floor, his hand now covering his chest near where the core would be.

“Does that mean, if a demon was implanted and I gain demonic powers… then I could potentially absorb other types of magic and utilize those types as well?”

Dominion didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he gestured idly, almost dismissively.

“Most who come to power here are shaped by what surrounds them; bound to the system they inherit, the magic their bloodline allows. But you, Erik…” His gaze locked onto Erik’s, unyielding.

“You are unbound. That is why your core is empty; It isn’t tied to one force or one type of magic. It could indeed contain... anything.”

Erik’s pulse quickened, his thoughts tangling.

Dominion’s voice cut through his thoughts like a blade.

“That potential is rare. Coveted. And dangerous. To you, and to those who think they can control it.”

The words hung in the air, thick with implication. Erik looked away, his mind flashing to everything he had endured since arriving in this strange, unforgiving world: the relentless training, the specters, the crushing expectations. He felt the weight of his ignorance pressing down on him like a shroud.

“And this potential?” Erik asked quietly, his voice cutting through the silence.

“What happens if it’s... unlocked?”

Dominion’s smile widened just enough to make Erik’s stomach tighten.

“That,” he said, his voice smooth and cryptic,

“depends entirely on the choices you make.”

Dominion studied Erik for a moment, the faintest flicker of something unreadable passing over his face.

“This,” Dominion began, gesturing around the chamber,

“is where you will define the environment and learn to cultivate your core.”

Erik frowned, glancing at the glowing runes along the walls, and then down at his hands…

“If I cant even manifest magic from a demon sharing its magic with me… what good does it do to have potential?”

Erik sighed… “you saw the training I just went though… I might as well be the cook for whatever it is that this place feeds that nasty Goblin.”

Dominion took a seat across from him.

“perhaps some advanced lessons in your own language would be appropriate.”

Erik nodded in agreement as he sat upright and paying attention.

“Close your eyes,” he said, his voice almost hypnotic.

“Feel your environment. Not with only with your eyes or your ears… Use all your senses…You are looking for a different feeling… It will be lighter, purer.”

Erik closed his eyes, trying to do as instructed. He took a deep breath, focusing on the sensations around him

Dominion held his hand out, a flame flickering within his palm, the light glistening against eriks closed eyelids.

“Now as you sit, find yourself imagining you are in a bubble of liquid ever flowing around you, contained to that bubble. Keep your focus to the immediate area around that bubble and nothing more. Feel the floor with your feet. Feel the stone where your hands lie. Feel the coldness of the air on your skin. Focus on these feelings, but do not linger on any one for longer than a moment. If you do, simply rest your focus to find all of the feeling again.”

At first, there was nothing that Erik felt aside from just the darkness behind his eyelids, the sound of his own breathing. But slowly, he began to feel it; a gentle air current, a cold stone sucking the heat from his body, and the flickering of a flame nearby.

“ok, I think I understand what you are asking me to do.” Erik quietly said

“Good,” Dominion said, his voice a low murmur.

“Now, focus on those points in your body that you mentioned. And now start to pull that energy towards your core within your chest. Imagine a tether of ropes pulling that feeling from your senses into your core. Continue to maintain that focus and continuously pull the feeling. Pull it towards you. As you feel a sensation within your core, allow the feeling to reach further until you feel a connection of some sort… you will know it when you feel it.”

Erik focused, reaching out with his senses, trying to draw the energy in. It was like trying to catch a breeze with his hands; intangible, elusive. He gritted his teeth, his brow furrowing in concentration.

“Slow,” Dominion said, his tone soft but firm.

“Feel it. Let it see your core and let it in.”

Erik relaxed, taking another breath, and this time, he felt the energy respond. It moved toward him, flowing into his body, filling the emptiness within his core. It was a strange sensation, like a warmth spreading through his veins, a light growing inside him, followed by a lingering sensation as if his arm had fallen asleep and he had lost control of it.

“Good,” Dominion said, nodding watching the flame within his palm return back towards himself after having been pulled in Eriks direction .

“This is just the beginning. This is how you cultivate your core. And make it your own. Right now, you share a core with a Demon… You will learn to navigate around that aspect but it will take time and patience.”

Erik let out an exhausted sigh, followed by a wide yawn.

“Rest Erik. We have much to accomplish. Your progress continues tomorrow morning.”

***

Erik had made it back to his small and cramped room that he had called home for several weeks. Having bathed, eaten and cleaned up, finally laying in bed his consciousness slipped away as he drifted into sleep, his body heavy from the day’s trials. When his eyes opened again, he was no longer in the familiar confines of his world. Instead, he stood on an endless expanse of crystalline ground, its surface reflecting the cosmos above; a sky unlike any he had ever seen.

It was alive with motion: swirling nebulae of gold and silver, vast celestial bodies that pulsed faintly like the rhythm of a heartbeat. The air was charged with an energy that resonated deep within him, as if every breath filled his veins with power. It was intoxicating, but also disorienting, as though the world itself was both infinite and fragile.

In the distance, Erik saw towering structures of impossible beauty; spires made of shifting light, rising and falling like tides. They hummed faintly, their song pulling at his core, urging him forward.

As he walked, each step seemed to echo louder than the last, until he was no longer sure whether he was walking toward the spires or if they were coming closer to him.

When he reached the first of the spires, Erik placed a hand against its surface, and his mind was flooded with images; fractured and fleeting.

He saw beings cloaked in radiant armor, their forms both solid and ethereal, moving with grace and purpose. Their hands wove intricate patterns in the air, and the very fabric of reality bent to their will. Fire, water, shadow, light every element obeyed them as if they were its creators.

Erik felt a strange connection to them, like a thread tied to his very soul. They were not bound to a single type of magic, like the mages of his world. Instead, they commanded all magic, weaving it into something greater. He could feel their knowledge, their power, their endless potential; but also their fear.

The images shifted. Where there had been unity, there was now chaos. The celestial spires crumbled as the sky darkened, black tendrils tearing through the fabric of the world. The beings he had seen; so powerful, so certain were falling, consumed by an enemy they could not control.

Erik heard voices, faint but clear, overlapping in a desperate cacophony.

"The Core must survive. It is the key. The legacy must live on..."

The spires shattered entirely, fragments of their light scattering into the void. Erik’s vision blurred, and he felt a sharp, wrenching pain in his chest, as if something was being pulled from him.

The world around him continued to collapse. The crystalline ground beneath his feet fractured into jagged shards, each splintering further until they crumbled into the void. Towering spires of light disintegrated into streams of golden dust, consumed by the writhing black tendrils that clawed at the sky.

The weight of the dream pressed against him, and Erik felt an inexplicable pressure in his chest. It wasn’t pain but a building resonance deep within, a pulse that seemed to sync with the collapsing dreamscape. The sensation grew stronger, filling his entire being, until it felt as though the energy might rip him apart.

And then, without warning, the resonance released.

***

As Erik laid still deep in sleep, a pulse of Erik’s core radiated outward, a subtle but undeniable shockwave. It was invisible to the eye but felt across realms. Objects in Erik’s room shifted faintly; the air itself seeming to ripple. Far beyond the confines of his chamber, the signal carried through the unseen fabric of the world, its path untraceable yet absolute as it navigated through the advanced sigils and runes unbothered by the mere suggestions of containment.

The shockwave continued to accelerate at breakneck speeds across distant planes, a whisper carried on an ancient current. It passed through lands untouched by mortal hands, over seas no ship could cross, and into forgotten voids where time itself felt still.

Seven beings, spread across the expanse of existence, stirred. The pulse touched them, faint but familiar, a call they could not ignore.

One by one, they rose.

Ancient oaths, long dormant, awoke with a fury that resonated deep within their essence. The sigils etched into their cores and forms ignited.

Their focus turned, unerring and absolute, toward the source of the signal. They needed no words, no deliberation, the meaning was clear, undeniable. The last beacon of a race thought lost to time had reached across the void, calling for aid. And for the first time in five centuries they answered. Erik jolted awake with a gasp, his breath catching in his throat. He sat up in bed, the echoes of his dream clinging to him like a shroud. His chest felt warm, though the sensation was already fading. His gaze darted around the dimly lit room, the stillness broken only by the faint rustle of wind through the window.

Something felt... off, but he couldn’t place it. The images of the dream were slipping away, replaced by a vague unease. He rubbed his chest absently, feeling the faint hum of his core, unaware of what it had just done