I woke up with a dull ache in my back and arms, a constant reminder of the scars that were still healing thanks to my family’s care and Master Halvor’s medicines. Despite the physical discomfort, I felt a renewed energy flowing through my body. The first thing that came to mind was the intense conversation I had overheard the previous night between my mother and sister, but I decided to set that aside for now. There were more urgent matters demanding my attention.
Opening my eyes, I saw my mentor, Master Halvor, standing with his back to me, organizing potion bottles on the bedside table. His movements were quick and precise; with a simple gesture of his hand, each empty bottle disappeared and was replaced by a new one. As always, my curiosity got the better of me, and I couldn’t help but ask.
“Master Halvor, what are you doing?” My voice still carried the grogginess of sleep.
Halvor startled, clearly unaware that I was awake. He let out a nervous laugh as he adjusted the bottles.
“By the gods, boy, you nearly made me drop these potions. You shouldn’t scare an old man like me,” he said, turning to me with a half-smile. “It’s just a utility spell—nothing too complex. It’s called ‘Exchange.’ Common among merchants and alchemists. It lets you swap objects as long as they’re of similar weight and size.”
I sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes as I processed what he said.
“Does that mean you could use it to transport things over long distances?” I asked, my mind already racing with the spell’s possibilities.
Halvor chuckled and shook his head.
“Not so fast, boy. The spell is limited by distance and the caster’s skill. The more you practice, the more efficient you’ll become, but don’t expect to move mountains across Profundia with a single gesture.”
“I want to learn it,” I said, my determination sparking a glimmer of interest in the old alchemist’s eyes.
“Well, well,” he replied, pulling out an empty bottle and a small, glowing red stone that I immediately recognized.
“Is that… a Bloodstone?” I asked, incredulous.
“Indeed, boy,” he said, holding it up. “A fragment of the legendary mineral extracted from the skies of Noxumbria. Highly coveted by vampires. Even a piece this small could cost you your life in their dark kingdom.”
I stared, mesmerized by the stone. The light in the room seemed to dance on its surface, creating a mystical glow that captivated me, as if I were gazing upon a living gem. Halvor, noticing my fascination, decided to challenge me.
“Your task will be to remove the stone from the bottle using something else in the room of similar weight.”
He sat beside me, his expression both patient and encouraging.
“I’m not the best at teaching magic,” he admitted, “but this much is crucial: a good mage must be creative. Only the greatest can master and create new spells. That’s what separates the good from the exceptional.”
I reflected on his words, recalling how he had swapped the bottles without visibly channeling mana. How had he done it? After a moment of silence, Halvor offered a hint.
“Mana doesn’t just reside within you; it’s also in the air around you.”
With that clue, I began to piece together part of the mystery. Halvor had directed the ambient mana toward the objects. Visualizing this, I started moving my hands slowly, attempting to channel the room’s mana toward the stone. I watched as it shifted slightly inside the bottle.
“You’ve grasped half the spell,” Halvor remarked, “but something’s still missing.”
I thought for a moment, then remembered the need for an object of similar weight to complete the exchange. My mind turned to a Lumen coin I had stashed in the decorative vase Aria had placed on the room’s shelf. Focusing my mana on both the coin and the Bloodstone, I envisioned them swapping places, as if playing a game of chance.
Suddenly, the magic took hold, but the result was far more violent than I had anticipated. The coin appeared inside the bottle, shattering it instantly, sending shards flying across the room. To my surprise, the Bloodstone now rested inside the vase.
Halvor clapped enthusiastically.
“You did it! Though with a bit too much energy. With practice, you’ll gain better control over your mana.”
I smiled, satisfied with my achievement, and got out of bed to retrieve the coin. However, my joy was short-lived. The vase, weakened internally by the impact of the Bloodstone, suddenly toppled off the shelf, crashing to the floor with a resounding noise. The coins I had hidden inside spilled out along with shards of ceramic.
Halvor, who had just begun applauding my success, froze at the sight of the mess. For a moment, we exchanged silent looks, knowing the noise had likely alerted the two most strict people in the house.
Master Halvor sighed, rubbing his forehead in resignation.
“Well… it seems we’re both in trouble,” he said, his voice tired but tinged with humor.
I couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, though my heart raced at the thought of facing Aria—or worse, Lysa. As Halvor reached for the door handle, he opened it, and both of us were left speechless. Standing there was Thalor, his sturdy frame filling the doorway. His fiery red beard looked as wild as ever, and his warm eyes carried the familiar spark of a loyal friend.
“Thalor!” I exclaimed, acting on instinct as I threw my arms around him.
The dwarf let out a deep laugh, returning the hug with a few gentle pats on my back—though gentle for him still felt like being hit by iron plates.
“Kaion, lad!” he said, his booming voice filled with affection. “It’s good to see you up and about with that fire in your eyes again.” He pulled back slightly to inspect me, as if searching for new wounds. “But by the stones of Profundia, what happened here?” he added, gesturing to the scattered coins and broken shards.
Before I could answer, Aria and Lysa rushed in after Thalor. Aria spoke first, her tone stern, leaving no room for excuses.
“What is all this?” she asked, crossing her arms as she stared at the mess.
Lysa, ever sharper with her tongue, let out a sarcastic laugh as she noticed the coins.
“So this is what you do when I’m not watching, huh?” she said, shooting me a look that was equal parts mockery and disapproval.
Before I could respond, Thalor picked up one of the coins, holding it up to the light as if appraising it, and burst into laughter.
“Almost 200 Lumen!” he exclaimed, glancing at the scattered coins. “Lad, it seems you’ve amassed a small fortune. Congratulations, Kaion. At this rate, you’ll be richer than me in no time.”
Aria narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms tighter.
“And where did you get all this?” she demanded, her tone firm but not hostile—more curious than accusatory.
Before I could respond, a portal shimmered into existence by the door, casting a soft blue glow across the room. A familiar deep voice resonated from within before its owner stepped through the threshold.
“The boy earned that money by selling alchemy materials to Halvor and several merchants in the village,” Eldric said, his tone calm yet laced with amusement.
From the portal also emerged Eolka, her granddaughter, and the young Isolte. The already crowded room filled with the lively greetings of the new arrivals. Isolte dashed toward me, wrapping me in an unexpected hug, her boundless energy contrasting with her small frame.
"Kaion, you're okay!" she exclaimed, her voice brimming with joy. "Thank you for saving me. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you."
I smiled, trying not to let the moment overwhelm me, and awkwardly returned her hug. Before I could reply, Halvor, who had been silently observing, discreetly slipped the Bloodstone into his dimensional ring. Eldric, noticing the chaos in the room, snapped his fingers, and a soft glow of magic enveloped the mess.
In mere seconds, the shattered vase fragments vanished, and the scattered coins rolled across the floor as if alive, neatly organizing themselves into a box by the nightstand.
Stolen story; please report.
“Eldric, always so efficient,” Halvor said, bowing slightly in gratitude.
Eldric waved dismissively, as though it were a trivial task, then turned to address the others.
“If you don’t mind, I need to speak with Kaion alone. Eolka and I have matters to discuss with him.”
One by one, the others began to leave. Thalor clapped me on the shoulder, Isolte gave me one last warm smile, and Mother, of course, had a sarcastic comment about the number of coins I had accumulated.
As Aria reached the door, she shot me a meaningful look. She didn’t say a word, but her message was clear: This isn’t over. We’ll talk later.
Finally, the room fell silent. Eldric sat across from me, his expression more serious than usual. Beside him, Eolka stood with a calm yet expectant demeanor.
“Kaion, we have much to discuss,” Eldric said gravely, his voice carrying the weight of a conversation I knew would change everything.
Eldric closed the door with a disquieting calmness, his fingers tracing symbols in the air as he cast a silencing spell. The room became completely insulated from external noise, sealed under the veil of his magic. Trapped in this heavy atmosphere, I couldn’t help but feel a growing tension. Though my face remained neutral, my mind raced, anticipating what was to come.
Eolka, the Elder of Pyros, was the first to break the silence. Her voice, soft yet laden with wisdom and respect, began with gratitude.
“You were very brave, young one. You saved my granddaughter and many others. On behalf of Pyros, thank you.” Her tone was solemn, almost reverent as she spoke of her homeland. “Your actions are worthy of the legacy of the great Rhozathar.”
Recalling the subtleties of the Ancients’ customs, I responded with a modest bow of my head.
“I only did what I had to, Elder. My duty to my people is unshakable.” I knew those words would resonate with Eolka, ever devoted to tradition.
Eolka nodded, satisfied with my reply, and yielded the floor to Eldric, who stepped forward after completing his spell. His face, neutral until now, took on a stern expression, like that of a judge ready to deliver a verdict.
“Kaion Graves,” he began, pronouncing my full name with an authority that could freeze anyone’s blood. “I need you to recount exactly what happened in that cave after the Deathweaver dragged you to its lair.”
I had been prepared for this question. Though my heart raced, I kept my outward composure. I recounted the events concisely, omitting the more dangerous details, like my crucial conversations with Vesper. I explained how that mage had kidnapped the rune masters and, with the aid of a mysterious staff, controlled a swarm of Deathweavers to unleash a sealed evil within the cave.
Eolka and Eldric narrowed their eyes at the mention of the "Abyssal Treasure." The room grew oppressively silent until Eldric finally broke it with his grave voice.
“According to the legends of Draconia, in a cave called the Grotto of Lost Dreams lies a being sealed away by the Abyss King himself. A being of unimaginable power, capable of annihilating everything in its path. This cave is said to change locations every few years due to underground currents.”
From his cloak, Eldric produced a fragment of Vesper’s staff, holding it up for me to see.
“This is all that remains of the staff, and we found it next to Vesper’s corpse.”
I felt a pang of nervousness but maintained my composure. I knew that partial truths would serve me best here.
“Vesper forced me to attempt to break the treasure’s seal. He believed my family’s runes were the key. He threatened to kill me if I didn’t comply. So I tried, but after that… I don’t remember much. The fatigue and injuries were too much.”
Eldric stared at me intently, weighing my words.
“Vesper was found dead,” he stated, his tone heavy as stone.
Anticipating his next question, I quickly replied.
“I didn’t kill him.”
Eolka nodded gravely.
“We know. Vesper was a mage of the seventh circle. It’s no simple task to kill someone of his caliber. But his killer didn’t use magic. The wound we found on his body was inflicted by a blade, so precise it could have cleaved stone in two. Only someone who has mastered the art of the sword or reached enlightenment in combat could have done such a thing.”
Eldric added somberly, “The treasures of the Abyss are entities sealed due to their immense power. They are coveted by many, but their true nature is to protect their chosen owner at any cost.”
A chill ran through me. Eldric and Eolka’s intense gazes made me feel small, despite my efforts to remain firm.
“Are you saying…” I began, my voice barely a whisper, “that I am the owner of this treasure?”
Eolka’s eyes widened with a mix of surprise and concern, but Eldric, ever composed, responded with a resigned smile.
“It would appear so.”
Unable to contain myself, I protested.
“That’s impossible! I’m just a child. I can’t control something like this! I don’t even have a full magic circle.”
Eldric’s paternal smile softened as he placed a hand on my head, ruffling my hair.
“You’re not so little anymore. You turned six while you were unconscious. The treasures’ will is mysterious. It doesn’t matter if you’re a mage of the first circle or the tenth—the treasure has already chosen you.”
Eolka sighed.
“The boy is too young to wield such immense power.”
Eldric adopted a more reflective posture, nodding slightly.
“Perhaps, but for now, this information must remain a secret. No one can know that our people harbor a candidate for Monarch. There are more pressing matters to address.”
With those words, Eldric opened the door, undoing the silencing spell.
“Come, Kaion. It’s time to go downstairs. I have an important announcement to make to everyone.”
Eolka exited first, followed by Eldric. As he was about to leave the room, filled with doubts, I stopped him with a question.
“What exactly is a Monarch?”
Eldric paused at the threshold, turning back with an enigmatic smile.
“A Monarch is someone who reigns over the treasures of the Abyss, a power that can make the world tremble… But don’t worry, boy. That treasure hasn’t returned to you yet. For now, rest.”
With that cryptic answer, he left the room, leaving me with yet another mystery.
“A Monarch… me? This just keeps getting more complicated.”
I sighed, falling back onto the bed. The weight of all these mysteries was beginning to press down on me, but at the same time, I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Six years old, huh? What a life.”
With that small dose of humor to myself, I stood up and headed for the stairs, knowing full well that peace wouldn’t come anytime soon.
We descended the stairs slowly—Eolka, Eldric, and I—our steps echoing in the nearly empty house, broken only by the steady crackle of the fire in the hearth. At the bottom of the stairs, I saw my entire family already gathered around the flames, waiting for answers to the growing tension that had consumed the past few days.
Lysa was the first to break the silence, her voice tinged with concern.
“Is everything all right?”
Before I could answer, Aria, Thalor, and Isolte joined the chorus of questions, their worried eyes fixed on me.
“Brother, is something wrong?” Aria asked, her tone firm but with a hint of tenderness, while Thalor frowned, searching for any signs that something was amiss.
Eldric, ever calm and collected, attempted to reassure them with a faint smile.
“Everything is fine,” he said, though his expression quickly grew serious, his tone heavy. “But now, I need everyone to listen carefully. What I’m about to say cannot be ignored.”
The weight in his words made me sink down onto one of the steps, while the others shifted in their seats, bracing for what was to come. My eyes met Eolka’s, who had also adopted a solemn posture, heightening the unease that hung in the air.
“A letter has arrived from the capital of Erebos,” Eldric began, his words landing with a weight that seemed to deepen the shadows in the room. “There has been an incident in the city. The Abyss King, Lazarus Ravennoir, has been assassinated.”
The silence that followed was as dense as the darkness itself. It was as if the very air had been sucked from the room. Thalor was the first to break it, his face filled with disbelief.
“They killed that old vampire? Who rules the Abyss now? Surely it wasn’t just a clean assassination… Was it a betrayal? The dark elves, perhaps… or his own people…”
Eolka interrupted before Thalor could continue speculating.
“It wasn’t the elves, nor was it the vampires who killed him.”
The tension in the room rose further, and I studied the reactions of everyone present. Isolte, her young and lively face now serious, couldn’t help but ask the question that hung on all our minds.
“Then who could do something like that?”
“A foreigner,” Eolka answered, her voice heavy with a chilling gravity. Her words fell like a hammer.
I frowned, my thoughts racing back to the conversation I had overheard between my mother and Aria the previous night. The pieces of the puzzle were beginning to align, though the picture was still incomplete. What role did my father and my supposed uncle play in all of this? There were too many secrets within the Graves family, and something about the way my mother and Aria were acting now unsettled me. I turned to Lysa, trying to decipher her expression. She looked nervous, her usual calm façade fragile. Aria, though more stoic, showed a slight twitch in her jaw. Something was definitely wrong.
I decided to break the silence with a direct question.
“Then who rules Profundia now? Did this foreigner take the Abyssal Throne?”
Eldric shook his head, his serious gaze sweeping over everyone before he answered.
“No. The foreigner did not claim the throne. And that is the most troubling part.”
My frown deepened as I tried to grasp the implications of Eldric’s words.
“What do you mean?”
The expressions of my family told me everything. Even Thalor, usually unshakable, now showed a mixture of shock and fear. Eolka and Eldric exchanged a glance before the latter continued.
The atmosphere shifted drastically. The confusion in the room gave way to dread. Everyone, even Thalor, who often approached matters with a relaxed demeanor, was now tense, as if bracing for the worst. Eldric spoke again, his tone darker than before.
“It means that if no one claims the throne, the Era of the Empty Throne has begun. A time of chaos, where the entire continent will be engulfed in wars. Profundia will be isolated, left without laws or order, and anyone with enough power will seek to claim the throne. Such times… bring only darkness and destruction.”
Lysa could no longer hold back her tears. Her broken voice echoed in the room, her pain rippling through all of us.
“I don’t want my children to live through this war… I don’t want them to grow up in a world filled with hatred and despair,” she sobbed as Aria and Thalor tried to console her. Eolka wrapped her arms around Isolte, who had also begun to cry.
Isolte, clinging to Eolka, let her tears flow freely, her youthful innocence overwhelmed by the weight of the news. Sitting on the step, I felt my heart pounding in my chest. I had never lived through a war, but I understood its implications: chaos, destruction, death.
Eldric approached me, placing a firm hand on my shoulder.
“Tomorrow, a letter from the Academy is sure to arrive,” he said, his voice calm but resolute. “Aria, Thalor, and Zephyr will have to return. The war won’t allow them to remain here any longer. But you…” He paused, his sharp gaze piercing into me. “You must stay and support your mother. In times of war, the Academy does not accept new aspirants. Our people aren’t ready for what’s coming. You must be strong.”
I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on me like an inescapable burden. Memories of Eldric’s relentless training flooded my mind—those endless days when Aria, Thalor, and Zephyr would return, cursing his name in exhaustion. Now I realized I would be next.
“The games are over, Kaion,” Eldric continued, his tone cold as steel. “What lies ahead is no ordinary training. Our people must be ready. You must be ready.”
With a paternal pat on my head, Eldric rose and stepped away, leaving me to process his words. I closed my eyes, letting the fear settle in my chest for a moment before opening them again. I knew I had to grow stronger. Profundia had always been dangerous; I had heard that countless times. But now, I was living it.
The silence returned to the room, but the air was thick with the certainty of what was to come: war, death, and chaos.