"Wake up, for the love of the sun!" a harsh voice rang out. The mage he had met earlier loomed over him, his expression twisted with irritation. "It's already nine in the morning," he added, his eyes narrowing as if every wasted moment was a personal affront.
Val slowly opened his eyes and noticed the mage standing in the shadow of the sun. His vision was still blurred from sleep, his eyes half-closed, allowing him to see only a dark blurry figure.
The mage kicked him and shouted, "Get up already! How long are you planning to lie there?"
Val sprang to his feet. "What? What's happening? Are we under attack?"
„No, you idiot, the only thing attacking is breakfast! I made us porridge, even though it was you who should cook!" the mage said, his voice raised in frustration.
"By the way, what's your name?" Val asked, rubbing his eyes.
"Oh, I nearly forgot to ask the same," the mage said, scooping up a spoonful of porridge. "I am Athar, a Mage of thousands illusions" he added after a moment. "And you?"
"I'm Valen Lu Mare," Val replied.
"Lu Mare, you say?" Athar muttered, settling himself onto the ground.
"I knew a Lu Mare once... That was fifty years ago, back when I lived in the northern desert of the Great Abyss," the mage said, devouring the rest of his meal.
Val stood silently, not asking, and began eating his meal. "Can you tell me about that person?" he asked between bites.
"Oh, I don't remember much, but... alright, I'll tell you," the mage began, his voice growing distant as memories surfaced. "She was a woman with beautiful white hair, though despite the color, she was truly young." He continued, his gaze drifting into the distance, painting a picture of their past. "There was a war between the clans. Oni. Many of my friends perished, even though they were neutral... "
The mage's voice faltered slightly as he recounted the chaos. "Time passed quickly on the battlefield. The Ocean Clan won, but after that, there was no trace of my friend..." He trailed off, his words growing softer, almost as if he was losing himself in the memory.
He went on, recounting the battle and its aftermath, until eventually, his voice slowed and his head drooped, the tale fading as he fell into a deep, weary sleep.
The wind had grown heavier, though the sun still blazed high in the sky. It was around 2 p.m.
Valen had long finished his meal. He stood up and made his way toward the interior of the tower.
He noticed his sword levitating, absorbing letters, numbers, and runes symbols that Val had never seen before. The wind grew stronger, and a blinding flash of magical light momentarily blinded him. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, everything fell silent. There was no wind, no sound only an oppressive, eternal stillness. The sword continued to levitate, but slowly, it began descending toward the ground.
Val reached out, gripping the hilt tightly, and with a swift motion, he sheathed it, his mind racing with confusion. It wasn't until after the moment passed that he realized the three books that were flying with his sword now left on the ground reduced to nothing but ash.
"I need to wake Athar!" Val shouted, but as he turned toward the mage, he found that he was gone. The only thing left was a circle etched into the ground and a note pinned to the earth with a fork.
"Val, I'll be back tomorrow. Don't wait with the food. And remember, don't sleep in the tower!" the note read.
"Goddamn it, why now, when I have so many questions?" Val muttered, frustration seeping into his voice.
Val had come to terms with the fact that his new companion wouldn't return until the next day. Resolute, he decided to sink into the magical tomes from the tower. His hand reached for one with an unusual cover metallic, etched with a rune that symbolized fire. Slowly, he opened the book and began to read.
He began to read the strange words aloud, his voice barely a whisper against the winds outside the tower. As he continued, he stepped out into the open, the cold night air brushing against his skin. He sat down upon the barren earth, the book still open in his hands, his gaze fixed on the cryptic text.
"Dne llahs efil, s'tirf s'of,
Dneb llahs dlrow eht, lliw s'malf yb,
Sssil nub gnihton evael, nrub
Sssiba eht morf esir, onreif."
The words seemed to resonate with a dark power, a pull deep within him that he could not resist. His hand rose slowly to the sky, trembling with the weight of the spell, and from his outstretched fingers, a shadowy flame, black as the void, began to manifest. It flickered like a dying ember, yet burned with a terrifying intensity, swirling around him in ominous silence.
"Shit," he muttered, panic creeping into his voice. He released the dark flame from his hand, and with a sharp crack, it shot upward, a violent burst of black fire that soared to two hundred meters before exploding in a blinding, chaotic display like a twisted version of fireworks.
explosion sent shockwaves through the air, but it drained him entirely. His body felt like a hollow shell, the last of his mana ripped from him as if by some unseen force.
He collapsed, staggering, his limbs weak, his skin pale as death. Yet, with no more energy left to spare, he drank the potion Orlen friend had given him, the bitter liquid burning his throat. With the slight strength he regained, he forced his eyes back to the book, muttering the next lines, unaware of the dangers ahead. The world around him seemed to blur, but the pull of the magic was undeniable....
The surroundings vanished entirely, replaced by a vast expanse of stars. Val felt no ground beneath him, no air to breathe, yet somehow...he could still breath. A haunting melody drifted in his ears, like the enchanting song of dryads, drawing him closer to the stars, pulling him away from the earth. It was as if he was floating, weightless, his mind and body. The knowledge of the ancient text from the book surged within him, pulling him in like a magnet. He felt as though he were drowning in it, but not entirely just on the brink of understanding.
Then, as if all at once, he was struck by an overwhelming sense of peace. For the first time in what felt like forever, he was free of both mental and physical pain, lying somewhere in a field of red flowers. Memories of his childhood flooded his mind his mother's smile, the laughter of old friends, the warmth of sunrays on his skin. Time seemed irrelevant. Was it an hour? Two? It felt like an eternity, but he was lost in the spell, unaware of how much time had passed.
"Val! Val! Val!" A voice shouted, sharp and urgent. A hand grabbed his shoulder, shaking him from his trance.
He snapped back to reality, confusion clouding his thoughts. He felt a deep, inexplicable sorrow, as if something had been stolen from him.
"Why did you do that?" he muttered, his voice thick with frustration. "Why?!"
"Chill out. Do you actually know what just happened?" Athar's voice was steady, though there was a hint of concern beneath it. "You got sucked into the book for an entire day. If I hadn't come back when I did, you'd be dead."
Val's eyes widened in panic. "Dead? No, that can't be true!" He paced frantically, biting his nails. "How could that be?"
Mag stepped forward, placing a calming hand on Val's shoulder. "Calm down. It's the nature of these books. They show you what you need or want to see... then take it all away. They feed on your soul."
"I know what I'm talking about," Athar said softly, pulling Val into a hug. "You're still here, and that's what matters."
Athar began to explain why this happened…