The streets of Dravos were a maze of crumbling stone and narrow alleyways, where the light of day barely touched the ground. It was a place where the forgotten thrived, where children learned to survive before they could even walk. For Eryx, the city was a cage, and he had spent twelve years trying to carve a life out of its sharp edges.
At 12 years old, Eryx had already seen the worst of what the slums had to offer. His mother was a shadow in the darkness, always working, always tired. His father, a man of strength and mystery, had vanished when he was just a baby, leaving Eryx with nothing but whispered rumors and the occasional glimpse of what might have been.
But what set Eryx apart from the other kids wasn't just the absence of a father—it was the magic.
It had always been there, a flicker at the edge of his consciousness. It started when he was very young, an odd sensation that would surge through him whenever the world pressed too hard—when the cold of the slums was too much, or when a fight broke out over the last scraps of food. The magic would flare up, raw and untamed, threatening to break free from the prison he kept it locked inside.
It wasn't normal. He knew that. But it wasn't something he could ignore either.
Every time it happened, something inside Eryx told him that his life could be something different—that the power he held could take him away from this place. But he was careful. The slums didn't care for outliers. It punished those who were different. So, he kept the magic hidden, buried deep beneath the surface.
He spent his days working in the market, running errands for the vendors who barely acknowledged his presence, and trying to avoid trouble. There was a peace in routine, in the quiet hum of life amidst the chaos. But that peace was always fleeting.
One evening, after the sun had long set and the cool breeze of night had settled in, Eryx was walking home from the market, his arms full of food he had earned through a full day's work. He moved quickly through the alleys, keeping to the shadows, when a faint glow caught his eye.
It was coming from an abandoned building—a place he had passed countless times but never thought much about. Tonight, however, something about it felt different. The glow wasn't natural; it pulsed in a way that made his magic stir. It called to him.
He hesitated for a moment, then made his way toward it, his feet carrying him of their own accord. As he approached the door, the magic inside him swirled, like a storm threatening to break free. He reached for the handle, then stopped.
There was someone inside.
Eryx's breath hitched. He wasn't sure how he knew, but the presence was unmistakable. His heart pounded in his chest as his fingers hovered over the door.
"Who's there?" he called, his voice hoarse.
There was a long pause, and then a voice answered from the shadows. "I knew you would come, Eryx."
Eryx tensed. The voice was familiar, but it wasn't a voice he had ever heard before. It was as though it echoed from far away, resonating with something deep inside him.
"I don't know you," Eryx replied, his magic pulsing in response, as if testing the air around him.
The figure stepped forward, emerging from the darkness. He was tall, his features sharp, with eyes that seemed to burn with an inner light. His clothes were tattered, but there was an air of authority about him, as though he carried knowledge that transcended the ordinary.
"I know you, Eryx," the man said, his voice both calm and urgent. "I am Elder Malcor. And I've been watching you."
Eryx stepped back instinctively, his fists clenched. "Watching me? Why?"
Malcor smiled faintly, as though amused by the question. "Because you are not like the others. Your magic is unlike anything I have ever sensed. You have the power to change the course of this world, but you are still just a boy, untrained and unaware of what you truly are."
Eryx's heart skipped a beat. "What do you want from me?" he demanded, his magic swirling restlessly beneath his skin.
Malcor's expression softened. "I want to help you, Eryx. You have no idea what you're capable of, but I can show you. You were born for something greater than this. But first, you must learn how to control it. You must learn the truth of your power."
Eryx swallowed hard, his mind racing. "Who are you really? What are you talking about?"
Malcor's gaze darkened slightly. "I am not just any man. I was once a part of the Order of the Celestial Spire, a group tasked with protecting the ancient magic of the world. Your power is linked to that magic. Your father knew this. That's why he left your mother. He knew you were destined for something greater."
Eryx recoiled, his mind struggling to make sense of it all. His father—the man who had left him and his mother—had been involved with this magic? He couldn't believe it.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Eryx said, his voice quiet but filled with defiance. "My father left us. He didn't care about me."
Malcor shook his head, his eyes filled with pity. "Your father cared more than you know. But his time is gone. It is now your time to take up the mantle. The Academy can help you control your power, Eryx. It is the only place where you can learn to use it without losing yourself."
Eryx's chest tightened. The Academy. He had heard of it, of course—the legendary school for the world's most powerful mages, a place for the chosen few. But he had never thought he would be one of them.
"What's the Academy going to do for me?" he asked, his voice more subdued now.
Malcor stepped closer, his eyes intense. "It will train you. Help you harness your power. But first, you must make a choice. The path is not easy, and the world will not give you mercy. But if you want to survive, if you want to understand the true nature of your magic, then you must come with me."
Eryx's heart pounded in his chest. The weight of the decision felt overwhelming. But deep down, he knew he had no choice. His magic was only growing stronger, more dangerous. And it would only be a matter of time before it consumed him—unless he learned to control it.
"I'll come with you," Eryx said, his voice steady now, though a part of him was still uncertain. "But I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this for me."
Malcor nodded, his expression unreadable. "Very well, Eryx. We begin tomorrow. There is much for you to learn."