Lucas Benjamin didn’t feel like a wizard on the morning of his twelfth birthday.He sat on the cold stone steps outside the house under a sicamon tree, his hands wrapped around a chipped mug of cocoa that had gone lukewarm. The sun had barely touched the sky, and the trees around them still wore their night shadows. Everything was too quiet.Inside, Mirna moved through the kitchen like someone carrying a thousand thoughts on her back. She hadn’t said much all morning, not even her usual, “Eat something, you’ll need your strength.” Everyone knew why though.Today wasn’t about turning twelve. Today was about leaving. A special day in the life of every born wizard. It is a truth known to all who carry the blood of magic that once a born wizard turns twelve, the time comes for their spirit to cross into the Realm of the Spirit. There, for not less than ninety-one days, they must dwell among the echoes of those who came before them, 'The past wizards' guardians of forgotten knowledge, kee

It was another day in the realm of the spirit. The courtyard was alive with movement, young wizards bending light and wind, twisting small flames between their fingers, and weaving spells with careful gestures. It was a place of focus and potential, where every breath could shift the unseen currents of magic. Lucas stood apart, his chest tight with nerves. His hands trembled slightly as he looked around. His palms felt dry, and his heart beat so fast it felt like it might burst from his chest. The others seemed so confident, their spells flowing naturally, like breathing. Kael, standing beside him, was calm, unshaken by the energy around them. His dark eyes sparkled with a mixture of patience and understanding. He noticed Lucas’s unease and placed a steadying hand on his shoulder.“Relax,” Kael said softly, voice low but clear. “There’s no race here. Magic isn’t about speed or strength. It’s about control. The kind of control that comes when your mind is calm.” Lucas shook his head, b

The spirit world stretched endlessly around Lucas, a realm caught between the fading light of life and the growing darkness of death. It was a place where time lost meaning, and whispers of long-forgotten magic danced on the cold, silver mist that curled and swirled at his feet. Here, in this liminal space, Lucas lay resting, his mind adrift in the gentle ebb of ancient power that pulsed like a distant heartbeat beneath the silence.For a while, all was still. His breathing evened, his heartbeat slowed, and a fragile peace settled over him, like a faint glow in the darkness. The sharp edges of fear and doubt dulled, replaced by the quiet comfort of this otherworldly sanctuary. But peace was a fragile thing, especially in the spirit world, where memories and visions could twist suddenly, like smoke caught in a storm.Without warning, the calm shattered. The mist around him thickened, twisting into dense shadows, swirling faster and darker until the quiet void transformed into a vast, s