Sasha.

-----Fifth Entry-----

Last time, I stopped right before the big revelation, didn’t I? Not that it’s much of a revelation to you, granted, but for me, the morning after I was taken—kidnapped, really—was the moment when my life ended. I needed some time before I could even think of describing how it went. It’s still hard.

I thought about skipping this altogether, telling you about my—your—childhood instead. About the talent show where I took first place, or the pranks I played, or Gruffy, the dog who was practically my best friend growing up. I could tell you about our family barbecues and how I always ended up with the most ridiculous charades to act out. I could have done that.

But no. You need to know how it really happened. How my life ended, and yours began. Why I made this decision for both of us.

When I woke up, the first thing I felt was hope. That maybe all of it had been some terrible nightmare. That maybe, somehow, I could just go back to being normal again. But then I saw the room around me—the extravagant furnishings, the heavy velvet curtains, the faint floral scent in the air—and the hope fractured, leaving a hollow ache in its place. It wasn’t a dream. This was real.

The room was beautiful—too beautiful. The kind of beauty that demanded to be noticed, that seemed designed to impress. It made me feel small, out of place, like an intruder in someone else's life. The plush carpet under my feet was thick and soft, but it felt like walking on quicksand, as though it might swallow me whole if I stopped moving. The soft glow filtering through the curtains, the way everything seemed so perfectly arranged—it all felt wrong. I wasn’t supposed to be here; I was supposed to be waking up in my cluttered dorm room, with Alex’s music blaring from her side of the room and the smell of burnt coffee from the kitchenette.

I took my time with the bath, fumbling with the strange knobs and enchanted fixtures until the water finally cascaded down. The water felt just right against my skin, not too hot and not too cold, the temperature I was never able to get in our old shower, but it felt too comfortable. Everything about this place was too fancy, too perfect. But I let the water wash over me, trying to rinse away the fear, even if just for a moment. If I was a prisoner, at least I could be clean.

After, I put on my own clothes. The new underwear was too comfortable to resist, but I didn’t want to give in completely to the luxury they surrounded me with. It felt like a small rebellion, a way of holding on to something that was mine.

When I stepped out, steam still curling from my hair, I found a breakfast that simply appeared on the table, arch-tech runes glowing softly, keeping it fresh. It was an impossible spread: glistening fruit, steaming pastries, stuff I didn't even know the names of. But it all felt hollow. It was like eating in a dream, where flavors don’t quite reach you, and nothing feels real. I took a sip of the coffee, though, letting the heat burn my tongue, hoping the bitterness would pull me back to myself. For a fleeting moment, the taste brought me back to the world I knew. But only for a moment.

I told myself that they wouldn’t be treating me like this if I were in danger, right? If they planned to harm me, why all the luxury? Maybe I really did have some unique magical potential, and they were just preparing me for an offer to study at Lovenia. It felt ridiculous even as I thought it, but I needed to hold onto something. Anything.

Then came the knock at the door.

“Miss Irving?” Master Ivan’s voice was almost hesitant. “May we come in?”

"May"—as if I had any real choice in the matter. “Come in,” I replied, my voice steady but hollow.

The door swung open, and Master Ivan entered, but he wasn’t alone. Beside him was a man whose presence seemed to fill the room—Grand Master Slavian Torrent. I recognized him immediately. The most powerful mage in the country, the head of the Arcane Council, the dean of the Lovenia Magic Arts Academy, my dream school, just standing right there, looking at me like I mattered.

“Mistress Irving,” he greeted. “Mistress,” sure. Mistress of what? Certainly not my own fate.

“I apologize for the circumstances,” he continued, his steady gaze carrying an emotion I couldn’t quite place. “And for all the distress you’ve experienced.” There was a flicker in his eyes—sympathy, perhaps. Or pity. “I know you have questions, and you deserve answers. But before we continue, I must perform a verification. May I?”

“Verification?”

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“Soul vision,” he explained simply. “I need to be certain before we proceed.”

I nodded, a tightness forming in my throat, and he stepped closer. His eyes began to glow faintly, the light somehow not spilling outward, but pulling inward, like a breath being drawn into my very being. The sensation that followed was subtle, like the brush of a cool breeze against the back of my mind; I wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't informed me.

When the glow faded, Grand Master Torrent let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly, but the look in his eyes became even heavier. “It’s true,” he exchanged a glance with Master Ivan, who nodded back, his face taut with a mix of relief and dread.

“What does that mean?” I asked, my voice cracking. “What are you talking about?”

Grand Master Torrent turned to me, his eyes filled with something that made the room feel colder, the air thicker, pressing down on my chest. “Please, Sasha,” he said quietly. “Sit down. There is much you need to know.”

I didn’t want to sit. My legs twitched, and my pulse quickened, instinct screaming at me to run. But where? There was nowhere to go. I sat down anyway because I felt like if I didn’t, the room would swallow me whole.

He sat across from me, and for a moment, silence stretched out, tense and suffocating. When he spoke again, his voice was careful, the way you might speak to someone standing on a ledge. “You are familiar with our stand against Chaos, aren’t you?”

Who wasn’t? The holy Saviors—the legendary mages, heroes who had given everything to close the Door and hold back Chaos. Every fifty years or so, a new Savior would rise, not to victory, but to endure two decades of unimaginable suffering, only to return and… and self-annihilate immediately. It was the ultimate sacrifice, a fate far worse than death; it was unthinkable. And necessary.

“The Door is nearly open again,” he said, slowly. “It is a matter of months now.”

That couldn’t be true. We would’ve known if the situation was so dire, right? ACC would inform the public, wouldn't they? My heart beat faster, thudding painfully against my ribs, each word striking like a hammer blow. “I don’t understand.”

“There is no Savior,” he said, and the words seemed to echo in the space between us. “We’ve searched for years. We were prepared for the worst.”

“The worst?” My voice was barely a whisper. My hands felt like ice, numb and useless on my lap.

“A full-scale invasion,” he replied, his tone flat, devoid of hope. “The end of everything.”

The room seemed to close in around me, the air thickening with every breath. The walls, the plush carpets, the rich curtains—it all felt like a cage. “Why… why are you telling me this?” It couldn’t be. He couldn’t mean—

He drew a breath that seemed to drain the light from the room. “Because you, Sasha, are the one we’ve been searching for.”

My whole body went rigid, a chill running through my veins, making my skin prickle. “No,” I whispered, “No, that’s not possible.”

I was nothing like the people who had taken the mantle of Saviors. They were grown-up, powerful mages, not... me. I was nothing. I couldn’t be. That couldn’t—

Grand Master Torrent didn’t flinch, his gaze unwavering. “I wish it wasn’t,” he said, and there was a raw honesty in his voice, something that made me listen even when I wanted to shut my ears and scream. “But the soul vision confirmed it. Your soul fits the task. Behind all legends, Sasha, it’s not about power or magic. It’s about soul energy frequency. The one you possess. And we don't have any other candidates.”

The words shattered the last bit of denial I’d clung to, and a wave of panic surged up, tightening in my chest, making it hard to breathe. My vision blackened, and the room tilted around me. “I’m not a Savior,” I choked out, my hands flying to my hair, fingers curling tightly around the strands. “I’m just… I’m just me. I’m not like them.” I thought of my family, of the home I’d probably never see again. I thought of Alex’s smile, Ilya’s laugh, the feel of our small backyard grass under my feet. I couldn’t be the one who had to give all that up. Please no. Please anything but this.

“I know,” he said, his voice softening as though he could somehow ease the blow. “And I am so, so sorry.”

I felt the weight of the chair pressing against my back, the wood digging into my spine like it was trying to push me deeper into the earth. “You can’t just… ask for it,” I said, desperation making my voice rise, my fingers gripping the chair’s arms as if I could break free from the fate they were forcing on me. “You can’t just decide that I’m supposed to…”

“If you don’t, the world will end,” he interrupted, his voice steady, but his eyes glimmering with pity. It only made it worse. “Chaos will consume everything.”

Everything. The word seemed to wrap around my throat, squeezing out the air, pressing down on my chest with the weight of all things in the world I loved. Of all the people I loved.

The tears blurred my vision, spilling over before I could stop them. They tasted of salt and fear, each drop like a piece of me slipping away. “I don’t want to die,” I whispered, barely able to speak. “I don’t want this.”

Grand Master Torrent’s expression softened with something like grief. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought I saw the faintest tremor in his hand as he reached out to me. “I understand,” he said quietly. How could he, though? “But there is no other way.”

The room seemed to spin, and the crushing reality of what this meant settled over me like a suffocating fog. I thought of my family, Alex, magic, and things I thought I had. “Why me?” I managed to say, my voice breaking. “Why does it have to be me?”

“Because there is no one else,” he said, the quiet finality in his tone striking like a blow. “We were desperate, Sasha. And finding you… it was our last hope.”

I wanted to scream, to tear the room apart, to wake up from this nightmare. But all I could do was stand there, trembling, while the tears continued to fall.

Grand Master Torrent’s voice cut through the haze of despair. “I’ll take you to Edgar,” he said gently. “It’s all I can do for you now.”

And just like that, my fate was sealed. My end began.