David blinked, waiting for the haze to lift. Was he in a hospital? Was the nightmare finally over? A gentle voice—his doctor, maybe—was trying to wake him for another dose of medicine. Soon, a psychiatrist would sort it all out.

The fog rolled away, revealing a window frame. A cool breeze brushed David’s face, sunlight slipping through the archway. The fur blanket was a deep, rich blue, covering a thick mattress resting directly on the floor. He let his arm dangle, his fingers brushing the thick rug.

“Doc,” David groaned, “Doc, something is wrong with me.”

The soft voice answered him, “Nothing’s wrong with you anymore, sir. You’re healed. Once the medicine wears off, you’ll feel wonderful.”

“Hm?” David blinked.

“I am Kaelen, a Physician of Zloras Castle. Once you are fully awake, we can talk more.”

David jolted upright. This isn’t real. This can’t be real. His heart pounded as he tried to escape the insanity of his own mind.

“No! No! I’m still here?!” He squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing down the panic that threatened to bubble over.

You shot yourself, David! You’re supposed to be in a hospital. Not in… whatever this is!

“Sir, please!” Kaelen said. “Lie down. You still need to process the medicine!”

A soft sound reached David’s ears, like a breeze whispering through aspens, followed by peaceful silence. Warmth washed over him, like sitting by a fire on a cold night. He felt the presence of everyone he’d ever loved, filling him with joy.

The comfort was unsettling. David’s grip tightened on the blanket as a cold pit opened in his stomach. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t real. Yet, the blurring edges of his reality gave way to this new, wonderful feeling, leaving him drifting into euphoria for a moment.

“Wait a moment,” he cracked one eye open. “What did you do?”

“A little magic to calm your mind,” Kaelen said with a smile. “It always helps visitors from low-magic worlds relax and collect their thoughts.”

He explained that Physicians in Varelith are skilled practitioners, combining medical knowledge with magical talents. Physicians train for many sun turns, learning their craft with others who have more experience than they do.

Kaelen’s poultice and magic closed the bullet wound in just two days, then he helped David fall into a deep rest to heal. Herbal potions were given to David every few hours to keep him strong, though they left a bitter, mud-like taste in his throat.

A glass of cool water sat beside the bed, its surface dotted with blossoms, filling the air with sweet citrus. David gulped down the soothing liquid, washing away the grogginess he felt. His eyes opened.

“You’re telling me this is all real?” David rubbed his face.

Kaelen nodded. “I am very real, sir. Hurting yourself was reckless, but I’ve never seen anyone arrive in Varelith with a gun.”

“How do you know what a gun is?”

“The Orcs in Bruy Clines have plenty of guns,” Kaelen said with a chuckle.

David scoffed. “Orcs? Broo-ee Clines?”

“Yes. Bruy Clines is a beautiful set of islands west of Ordrya,” Kaelen said.

“Orcs?!” David tried on the word like a pair of pants that didn’t fit.

Kaelen chuckled. “The Orcs are wonderful people. We have a few working here in Zloras Castle.”

“Giant brutes with underbites are nice?”

“Who in the forests told you that?” Kaelen threw his head back with laughter. “I’ve seen no Orcs looking like that in my time!”

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As David recovered, Kaelen sat next to him, talking about Orcs and Bruy Clines. It served as a distraction and allowed his body to finish healing. Within a few days, David had all the Orc history he could handle.

It is amazing what the medicine of Varelith can do for a person. A little touch of magic, along with some medicinal herbs, creates a combination that heals the body, mind, and soul. The longer Kaelen spoke, the more at ease David felt. Soon, he found himself sitting on a cushioned stool.

Soft footsteps echoed through the hall, nearing the arched doorway. Collin’s wrinkled face appeared in the doorway. His concern melted into a relieved sigh when he saw David at ease.

“Mister Lochner!” Collin said. “That was a terrible thing to do to yourself! Are you feeling alright?”

“Better. Yes. I’m sorry, I only meant to find out if…” David trailed off, hanging his head like a child being disciplined.

Collin Div’vossian, one of the oldest living Elves in Varelith, had spent a lifetime with the Scholars’ tomes. His grandfatherly presence could make anyone shrink away with just a look. Though he didn’t mean to scold, the narrowing of Collin’s eyes made both David and Kaelen feel the need to apologize.

“Did you come to an understanding with yourself?” Collin asked.

“I did,” said David. “Thanks to your Physician.”

“Kaelen does good work,” Collin said, a smile tugging at his mouth.

David stood, straightening the unfamiliar shirt. The light fabric felt comfortable, though its embroidered cuffs were unlike anything he’d worn.

Collin and Kaelen wore similar shirts, though Collin added a tunic that fell just below his belt. David noticed a few Elves milling around the room. Most of them were curious about the visitor. They too wore similar clothes, some with tunics, some without. Some wore skirts, and others wore slacks of a wool-like material.

“Collin. Why did you bring me here?”

Kaelen stood, gathering his things into a bag before heading to the door. The heavy wooden door creaked on its hinges before clicking shut. The room fell into silence as the sounds of the halls faded.

Collin motioned to the stool where David had been sitting. “David, you are one of the few Humans born on Earth with natural magic inside of you. That is how you have done so well for yourself. It is why you have created these wonderful things that help people. I want to see it fully awaken in a world where magic can thrive.”

David tried to keep his face straight, but he could not hide the smile of disbelief. “My magic? You are telling me I have magic? This is silly!”

“Yes, David. Your magic,” Collin sat up straight. “Have you ever felt a force pushing you? Ideas coming from nowhere? Maybe your hands moved with a mind of their own—it was there, even if you didn’t understand it.”

David hesitated, searching for words. “…Yes. I suppose so.”

“That is your magic working,” Collin said. “Stop to think for a moment. What do you feel right now? Is there a strange pull inside of you towards something you can’t understand?”

“Come to think of it, yes,” David admitted.

Collin smiled. “Varelith is brimming with magic, David. Yours is waking up.”

David frowned, getting up from the bed and pacing as the weight of this new reality settled on him. His hands shook, clapping together while his mind swirled with thoughts. Everything he had built—every invention, every innovation, every success—was all slipping away. He’d sacrificed so much: family, friends, and love. All of it for progress. Now it could all unravel, turning him into someone he didn’t understand—someone he couldn’t control. Not yet.

All the time he’d spent creating marvels of modern medicine was now reduced to something as intangible as magic.

David balled up his fists. “I’m finding this very hard to believe!”

A small table sat between the stools. Collin dropped a plain gray rock on the table—it looked out of place on such fine furniture.

“Take this,” Collin said.

“It’s a rock,” David said.

“No. It is a gemstone from the Lempick Caves, south of Zloras,” said Collin. “It is charged with Traditional magic.”

Every word out of Collin’s mouth made David roll his eyes toward the rounded ceiling. But the man’s eyes were pleading with David to at least try.

As David’s fingers reached it, the hair on his neck stood on end. A sharp smell of ozone burned his nostrils, and a metallic sensation covered his tongue. Something deep inside the very bones of his fingers leapt away from them, and the stone jerked on the table. A soft golden glow spread over the rock, transforming it into a radiant gem.

“Whoa!” David dropped it. “What is that? What happened?”

“You used it!” Collin clasped his hands together. “Goodness, that was fast! It seems Traditional is indeed your talent.”

“Traditional?” David couldn’t make sense of it—magic was supposed to be a myth, wasn’t it?

Another explanation came over many cups of tea. David listened intently, uncertain if he fully believed Collin. Yet.

Varelith is so full of magic that most are born with it in them. Some have strong abilities, and others don’t. In Varelith, a person’s magic awakens. For most, it happens around four or five sun turns. After that, one must find their talent.

Traditional magic was the most common talent in Varelith, and David’s seemed to align with it, like many of the Elves. He would be able to explore more as he grew in his abilities.

Once the tea had been finished, Collin handed David the stone again, urging him to take hold of it. The man had magic. Collin knew that. Now, he must awaken it. There were so many plans for David, but it all teetered on him grasping magic.

As David’s fingers brushed the stone, a violent pulse of energy surged through his arm, knocking the breath from his lungs. His vision blurred, the world around him flickering as if he were going to pass out again. His skin crackled with electricity, and the stone glowed, pulling at something deep inside of him.

No… no, this can’t be happening.

It was happening. And as the light swirled around the stone, David could not deny it any longer. This was no dream. It was no illusion. Magic was real. And it was inside of him.