Vogrim leaned slightly forward, his eyes scrutinizing Pierre with an intensity that made the young man feel vulnerable, as if all his secrets were laid bare. The presence of the mage was overwhelming, and Pierre struggled to maintain his composure as Vogrim murmured:
“Interesting… very fascinating.” He raised his eyebrows, a clear sign that he had discovered something remarkable. “It seems you have an unusual story, young Milanion. Your soul does not fully belong to this plane. Perhaps I can help you unravel the mystery of your arrival in this world. But first,” he paused, letting the words hang in the air, charged with expectation, “you must prove your worth. Are you willing to accept the challenge?”
Pierre felt a chill run down his spine. Something in Vogrim's tone, in the way he had spoken those words, made Pierre feel as though he was being observed in a deep way, beyond what any ordinary human could imagine. He knew this moment would be decisive, not only for his journey in Avalamite but also for discovering who he truly was.
“One day in Avalamite is equivalent to a year in your normal world,” Vogrim explained as he stepped away, walking toward a window that overlooked vast, mist-shrouded mountains. “This place is dedicated to learning, and everything taught here transcends the boundaries of this plane, influencing the evolution of your world for thousands of years.”
Vogrim's words echoed in Pierre's mind, filling him with a mix of fascination and fear. The vastness of the knowledge available in Avalamite was unimaginable, but the idea of spending a single day there and returning to his world after a year of absence filled him with anxiety. How could he explain this to those he had left behind? The image of Mrs. Peyton waiting for him surfaced in his mind, but he quickly pushed the thought aside. There were greater things at stake.
“The ancient world was governed by various types of magic,” Vogrim continued, shifting his gaze from the landscape to Pierre. “Some good, others evil. But many sought to master pure magic, including galactic beings who traveled across the planes of dimensions in search of power.”
Pierre absorbed every word eagerly, his imagination running wild as he visualized the civilizations and battles Vogrim described. He could almost see the ancient mages, draped in elaborate robes, channeling forces capable of reshaping the world with a single gesture. The idea that he might inherit this mystical legacy filled him with an ambiguous sense of pride and responsibility.
“With the advancement of technology, magic was gradually left behind, replaced by machines and elemental devices,” Vogrim said, his voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. “Many of the great masters and dominators of magic were forgotten, erased by the relentless march of progress.”
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Vogrim paused, his gaze now darker. Pierre, intrigued, asked, “But how did magic become obsolete? How could technology defeat something so powerful?”
Vogrim sighed, his expression laden with sadness. “Over time, many mages became corrupt, using their powers for selfish ends. And magic, which should have been used for good, was twisted into evil. Moreover, many rulers feared the mages, seeing them as a threat. And with the advance of technology, elemental machines began to replace magic.”
Vogrim's gaze fixed on Pierre, piercing. “Your mother was a humble peasant, but she possessed an extraordinary gift for magic. She was adopted by one of the last great aristocratic mages, one of the few remnants of an era when magic was one of the dominant forces in the universe. Over time, Sigune evolved and became even more powerful.”
The revelation about his mother struck Pierre like lightning. He had always known there was something special about his family, but he had never imagined something of this magnitude. The idea that he might inherit this power, that he was connected to such an ancient and powerful past, left him stunned.
With a solemn expression, Vogrim approached Pierre, extending his hand to touch his forehead. “My young Milanion, the magic that flows within you is unique and powerful. Your cosmic psionic essence is warm and creative, while your draconic essence is cold, drawn from the universe itself.”
Pierre felt an intense warmth radiate from Vogrim's hand as it touched his forehead, as if something was being awakened within him. But before he could form a question, Vogrim continued in a serious tone, “Unfortunately, your mystical meridians are deteriorating, and you need 1,000 years to cultivate and realign them properly.”
The statement left Pierre speechless. A thousand years? He could hardly conceive of such a span of time, and the prospect of needing that period to reach his full potential was, at the very least, daunting.
“But is there any way to replace these mystical meridians?” he asked, a note of hope evident in his voice.
Vogrim slowly shook his head. “No, mystical meridians cannot be replaced. But there are ways to cultivate and realign them, as I mentioned earlier. If you follow the correct practices and focus on your life force, you can improve your ability to use and manipulate your cosmic aura.”
Pierre took a deep breath, absorbing the enormity of the task ahead of him. Vogrim seemed to be studying each of his reactions, as if assessing his chances of success. “I accept the challenge,” Pierre finally said, with a new determination shining in his eyes.
Vogrim nodded with a slight smile. “Very well. The test you will face will not be easy. It will require more than strength or skill; it will test your will, your courage, and your ability to understand the forces that govern this world.”
Pierre felt his heart race. Vogrim's words carried a deep weight, as if simply accepting the challenge had already changed something within him. He knew that from that moment on, there was no turning back.
Before leaving to face the challenge, Pierre thought of Mrs. Peyton. He couldn't leave her without a word, without explaining that, although he was entering something dangerous, he intended to return soon. Crossing the portal that would take him back to his reality, he appeared in Mrs. Peyton's home, where she greeted him with wide eyes of surprise and concern.
“Don't worry, Mrs. Peyton,” he said, with a reassuring smile, trying to hide the storm of emotions inside him. “I'll only be in Avalamite for a day. I'll be back soon.”
She nodded, but the worried look on her face showed that she knew Pierre was getting involved in something much bigger than he wanted to admit. With a final wave, Pierre returned to the portal, feeling the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. The challenge awaited him, and he knew he would need every ounce of strength, courage, and wisdom to overcome it.